by R.K. Ryals
~Bezaliel~
“You want me to what?” I asked Marcas shrilly.
He pointed at the carpet again but didn’t say a word. We fly? Not this half Angel creature! I didn’t do heights. I started to turn away but Marcas grabbed my shoulders and pushed me toward the carpet. The alarms around us were deafening.
“Go, Blainey! Now!” Marcas ordered.
I swallowed hard but didn’t move.
“Oh, this is just great! We’ve gone from the Bible to Arabian Nights,” I grumbled as Marcas pushed me somewhat roughly from behind. I lifted my leg and stomped rather hard on his foot. He didn’t even flinch, but it made me feel better.
“I’m going, okay! Geez!” I said quietly.
I was incredibly freaked out by heights. He knew this. Even my pride couldn’t keep me from hyperventilating. I took a step forward gingerly.
“At least tell me this thing has seatbelts. It’s the law right? Click it or Ticket,” I asked lightly as Marcas moved in behind me.
“Just sit down and be still. Do that and you’ll be fine,” Marcas said.
He was annoyed I could tell, but I was too shaken up to care. Being dragged into this hadn’t been my choice. Of course, I had to concede, it wasn’t his choice either but. . .
“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled as I sat down cross legged, as close to the center of the huge rug as I could get.
I’m sure he’d clocked some massive frequent flyer miles in his Demonic lifetime. The only trip I’d made had been to Italy and my stomach still protested at the thought. To make matters worse, this wouldn’t be inside a vehicular metal body. We’d be completely exposed to the elements.
Marcas sat down behind me, so close my back lay slightly against his chest. I tried not to wiggle. His proximity unnerved me, and I fought the urge to move.
“If you’re that bothered by it, just close your eyes, Blainey,” Marcas practically growled.
Yeah, he was annoyed. I shifted a little. The tone of his voice made me defensive. The alarms grew louder.
“I’m not bothered by it,” I argued.
He hrrrummmphed. The carpet suddenly moved, and I yelped. Oh my God! Just breathe, Blainey. Just fucking breathe!
“Your mouth is going to get you into trouble, Dayton,” Marcas said from against my back, and I cursed. Crap! Had I been talking aloud to myself?
“Thanks for the insight, Craig.” I mumbled.
He remained silent. Maybe I did need to watch my language more. I didn’t need more trouble than I already had. The carpet moved upward, and I forced myself to breathe evenly. I wanted to close my eyes, but that would admit a weakness I was not willing to admit. He knew I didn’t like heights, but I didn’t want him to think I was a coward. I could do this. Stubbornly, I looked straight ahead, watching as the night sky enveloped us. Stars twinkled, closer than the norm, and I concentrated on the beauty rather than the fact we were getting higher. Wind whipped my hair, and I shivered.
“It’s a chilly way to travel,” Marcas said suddenly, his voice breaking through the night as he leaned closer.
Leather material fell around me, and I realized he must have used his powers to produce the jacket he’d worn when we first met. I felt thankful for his sudden charity. Not only was the leather warm, but it kept my vision limited. As thankful as I was for the warmth, I was just as irritated by his help.
“If you start singing A Whole New World, Aladdin, I’ll puke,” I muttered. Marcas backed away a little.
“A simple thank you would have sufficed,” he said as I lamented the warmth of his jacket. It still fell forward around me but not as securely.
Blast me and my mouth! There were screams from below us and I looked down, startled. The movement made me grab for Marcas’ jacket. Not only was the distance terrifying but so was the scene laid out before us.
The battle was still going strong. The members of the SOS were frantic. They were fighting off the Demons we’d led to them while frantically moving toward the house. They’d heard the alarms. A tear slid down my cheek.
“I’m a traitor,” I sobbed silently. The wind whipped the words right out of my mouth. Marcas leaned in from behind me.
“We need the ring, Blainey. The carpet will take us to it. Even your friends understand that or they wouldn’t have helped,” he said coldly.
I didn’t find any comfort in his words. I was a traitor. I was aiding and abetting a Demon. That simple fact remained.
Looking up at the sky, suddenly the height seemed less important to me than the magnitude of what I’d just done. People were dying below us.
Conor was battling with them, Monroe and Lita were helping the Coven, and most of the Jacobs family was working to help the SOS. The Jacobs had always taken care of me in some fashion or another. I was betraying them.
I sobbed into my hands. The wound on my neck throbbed. The light pushed at it. I cried out. The last of the poison dripped down my neck, and I opened my eyes to find the cloudy image of a very beautiful woman wavering in front of my face.
I cringed and crawled back into Marcas. What was this? Marcas’ arm came around me, and I knew he could see her as well.
“Son,” the woman said with a chuckle as she glanced between Marcas and I. She had raven hair with skin as alabaster as the moon. Her lips were as red as blood. She reminded me of the description the Grimm Brothers used to describe Snow White minus the whole child-like, innocent princess persona. Her eyes narrowed and shone red.
“Daughter of Bezaliel, hear my cry. You will die, Naphil. If not tonight, then soon. Our battle isn’t finished. It has just begun,” she warned before fading mist-like into the night. The poison dissipated.
Another sob escaped me. Marcas didn’t have to tell me who the woman was. I knew instantly. Her spider had bitten me. She had sent me a personal message I couldn’t ignore.
“Lilith,” I whispered as I looked toward the moon. It was full tonight. My friends were fighting a battle I’d run from to find a ring I thought could end this war. Or at least manage to pacify most of the Demons and even Angels who might want me dead because of Marcas.
But I’d been wrong.
The ring would only fix one small problem in a huge tapestry of trouble. Even unbound, Lilith would want me dead.
There would still be the SOS to face.
I would still be a Naphil with untrained powers and nowhere to go.
My journey hadn’t even truly started. I closed my ears to the cries that still filled the night and the carpet soared quickly away. I looked up at Marcas and realized he was already staring down at me.
The arm around my waist was tight, possessive even. His eyes met mine and I realized suddenly that I cared about him. I wasn’t sure he gave a damn about me, but he seemed to feel the need to protect me. Possession, Alessandro had said, tended to destroy his relationships. Had this same possessiveness driven Sophia from him? Did he still love her?
“This is just the beginning isn’t it?” I asked Marcas quietly.
He looked up at the stars and then back down at me. He nodded solemnly. His face was so near mine I could see the blue in his midnight eyes. If he had tried to kiss me then I may have let him.
I sighed and looked away. He was what he was and I was what I was. No future in that. His voice suddenly circled me as he drew his jacket close again. I looked back up at the moon.
It almost seemed to frown at me.
“Blainey,” Marcas whispered. “We haven’t even started.”
My tears hit the carpet.
###
About The Author
R. K. Ryals is a scatterbrained mother of three whose passion is reading whatever she can get her hands on. She makes her home in Mississippi with her husband, three daughters, a Shitzsu named Tinkerbell, and a coffeepot she couldn't live without. Visit her at https://rkryals.blogspot.com/, or on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100002962212970
Other works available:
Ransom: Redemption Series Book II
Retribution: Redemption Series Book III
The Acropolis: Acropolis Series Book I