“No.”
I tried to block the memory of Michael standing in the kitchen. He had turned toward me, looked me in the eyes, and lied, straight-faced. To think that I had almost kissed him. I had wanted to kiss him. Even now, I still wanted simply to be with him. That was the worst part; I still loved him. How could he have done this to me? And how could I still love him?
“You okay?” Kale asked. He was looking at me with a concerned expression on his face.
“Yeah. Just having flashbacks.” I wiped a tear that had slipped past my defenses. I smiled as best I could. I wasn’t okay; not even close. I wanted to run and curl up to die alone. But I might not die; I might have to live for thousands of years. I stood before the yawning chasm of eternity, and it was fast filling up with misery. A change of subject. “How long was I out?”
“About an hour. We’re still two hours out. I did some digging and found out that Stanley Alexander is a defense attorney. He’s widowed; his wife died of cancer, according to her medical records.”
“How did you get all this information?”
“I have a source.” He let a smirk cross half his face.
“A source?” It was clear that he was not going to let me in on this secret.
“I think I know where he will be.” Kale took a sip of his coffee. “The authorities don’t know what he’s done yet, but that won’t last long. People he works with, friends, neighbors will have seen that video on the news, recognized his voice, put two and two together and called it in. He hasn’t been seen at work in quite a while too.”
“What video?”
“He sent a video to the newspapers and TV stations. It aired last night.”
I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Kim?”
“Yes, she was on it. Which proves that she’s alive. But we need to find her before anyone else does. If the police show up, she’s as good as dead.”
“It’s like he wants to be caught …” I wondered if the video was an attempt to flush us out.
“Maybe he does. If he’s as far along as I think he is, God help the police if they try to arrest him.”
I wondered what he was talking about. “What do you mean? How are we going to get Kim back?”
“Airel, I think Stan is the Seer. You would have read about him in the Book I gave you.”
I nodded, wondering how someone who had lived thousands of years ago could still be alive.
“The Seer is a spirit. He can be killed, but only by one of the Sons of El. We must be careful how we go about our business, Airel. If we kill Stan and leave the Seer without a host, he will be driven into the Bloodstone.” Kale looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Do you know what that is?”
“I know a little about it.” I hoped he would tell me more.
He did. “The stone was stolen from paradise when the Sons of El fell. It is a pure union of diamond and onyx that glows red in the presence of the spirit of the Seer on earth. It does not belong here in the earthly realm. It is a talisman that allows him unnatural power, power that he continually consumes via the bridge enabled by the Bloodstone, between the spirit realm and this one. He uses this power to try to subjugate any created thing he desires to control. He is a demon prince from the substructures of hell. Some believe he may even be Lucifer himself; it is difficult to discern these things. The spirit of the Seer is confined to the immediate vicinity of the red Bloodstone. If his host is killed, the Seer will be recaptured by the Bloodstone until he finds someone else to enter.”
“So Stan invited this Seer to possess him?” I couldn’t believe someone would be willing to do that.
“He can be very convincing. He will say anything, as I said: you name it, he will promise it. A person who’s drunk or high will let him in without even realizing it. All the defenses of the mind, the gateway to the spirit, are nullified, and the doors stand open wide.”
I shuddered. She fluttered in my mind, as if asking for my attention. “What about me? I’m not possessed, am I? I hear this voice in my head—like my conscience, but almost audible to me. I call her She.”
Kale’s eyes narrowed. “I have one too. She, as you call her, is your inner man. Or woman. I keep forgetting that these days, man means a man, not the race of men.” He gave me another smile, and I was struck by it—there was something in it that I couldn’t quite figure out. It felt warm.
“When you were activated, your inner woman, your angelic spirit, was activated in you at the same time. It’s like a sixth sense, only separately cognitive. She is there to help you and protect you. In battle, for example, She will warn you in advance of a threat to your life.”
“So it’s a good thing.” I could feel her sitting back down and fluttering her wings, folding them under her. They sounded like the pages of a book sometimes, like the fluttering of a bird at other times. It was so bizarre how I could visualize what she looked like and simultaneously be unable to see her.
“Yes; a very good thing, if you listen to her. In time, she will blend with and complement all of your other senses. It will be simple instinct to trust her and respond to her leading. She also heightens your other natural senses. You may have noticed this already.”
Those were the times when I lost my breakfast. I figured that I started to get sick the day Michael came to school. As I thought back, I recalled that every time I got sick, Michael was close by. Then the last time, at Kale’s house, when I passed out for eight days, must have been an overload. “So why did I get so sick?”
“When you began to change, your body was rejecting your angelic side; it makes you sick. Being close to someone in the Brotherhood will start the process. Michael’s job is to find our kind; he can feel when someone is turning and feeds off the power. You, however, somehow resisted him, and his drain on you is not as strong as it should be.”
“Sometimes I would get sick, and a second later he would be there, but other times I was fine.”
“I think your system has been adjusting, allowing your angelic side to take over. I’m not sure if this will make it better or worse for you around one of the Brotherhood.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Airel, if I had my way, you would not be here, and I would rescue Kim by myself. However, I don’t think you will listen or obey me on that particular point, so we’ll go in as a team. I will provide the diversion, and you will keep yourself alive. Your job is simple: get Kim out. I will deal with Stan.”
“But you could be killed. He has super-human abilities; you said so yourself.”
“I know. This is not about me, though. All you need to know today is what I have already told you.” His eyes softened to a washed-out blue hazel, and his voice flowed freely with compassion. “Obey me.”
I flushed at being spoken to like a child and shook my head. I didn’t want Kale to put himself in harm’s way, but I couldn’t stand by and let that monster kill Kim, either.
“No, I’ll listen. Just tell me what to do.”
Kale nodded, obviously pleased.
I looked over my shoulder to the two seats and the straps and tie-downs. My stomach turned.
Kale noticed and gave me a smile in excuse. “I had no choice, Airel. You understand I was never going to hurt you.”
I nodded. “I know; it’s just that it seems like forever ago. My family must be beside themselves. What am I gonna do about them?”
“We can talk about that later.”
Great. More mysteries.
I sighed and thought about what my parents must be going through. I bet the police were involved by now. I could see my mom sitting on my bed looking at a picture of me and crying. God only knew what Dad was doing. I needed Mom, especially now.
My whole world was being torn apart, but I didn’t have the luxury to dwell on the past. Past is perfect; what’s done is done. You must leave it where it is and move on today. Only learn. I wanted nothing more than to go home and cry on Mom’s shoulder, lie in bed for the next month, and bathe in my sorrows.
I started to recognize landmarks and saw a sign: Now Leaving the Sawtooth Wilderness Area. My stomach was tight, balled up, and butterflies flipped and flopped inside it.
I had wanted to bring some sort of weapon, a gun or a sword, but Kale refused. “You will be going after Kim, not Stan. Remember that. You should have no use for a gun or any other weapon.”
I protested, but it fell on deaf ears. I thought I was stubborn, but compared to Kale, I didn’t stand a chance.
He armed himself with a small black dagger that ended with a wicked curve at its tip. He put it in its sheath on his belt. He was wearing his white robe from our time in the dojo, and he looked positively out of place behind the wheel. “This is comfortable,” he said, catching my disapproving glance. I guessed men were all the same; it didn’t matter how they looked as long as they were comfortable. Fashion? What’s that?
I was nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I checked in with my little winged friend and she sent me a wave of comfort, for which I was grateful, and I tried to remember to breathe. I focused on Kim, thought of her face in my mind, and recounted all the fun we had together. She was like a sister to me, my best friend.
“Some things to remember,” Kale said, interrupting my reverie. “If you fight Stan, you will lose. Most likely he will kill you. If I fail, you must get Kim out of there, return to the mountains, and hope that Michael did not tell his father where my home is. Do not try to fight. You have not been trained, and you will lose. Do you understand?”
Kale’s face was somber. I could tell that he wasn’t joking. Not that he ever would. “Yeah, but …”
“Promise me. Run. Do not fight.” I thought in my heart that I could beat him, but Kale was not backing down. I promised.
Kale looked at me.
Again, there was that old feeling, the same one I’d felt when I first saw Michael in the coffee shop: destiny.
CHAPTER I
Eagle, Idaho—Present Day
I SIGHED LOUDLY AND looked out the window. We had pulled in four houses down from where Stanley Alexander lived. Maple trees looked like they were on fire in a spray of yellow, orange, and red, with only a memory of green from the summer. Pines stood dark green against gray skies, and it felt as if I was on the edge of something.
I climbed down out of the Yukon and shut the door as quietly as possible. The neighborhood was empty. Fittingly, there were no signs of the police—they were busy cruising the blue-collar areas. There wasn’t even an Eagle soccer mom running behind a stroller. It was lifeless and foreboding. Kale pointed with a subtle jerk of his head up the road. I followed him along the little bike path.
The Alexander residence was all stucco and wrought iron. Fake Italian, like those wretched casinos in Vegas—my least favorite town in the whole wide world, because literally everything was fake. This house even had a similar scent. I wasn’t sure if She was helping me or not, but I smelled stench. Cigarettes—no, stale cigar smoke. I searched for Michael’s scent.
We approached the house. A three-car garage was attached to the right side, and a black BMW sat in the driveway, looking like it hadn’t been washed in quite a while. It was just like a horror movie, when the camera shows something completely normal and innocent, but the mind processes all of it in a different context. It chilled me; the wind gusted through a drift of leaves, and She stood up, taking it all in just as I was.
What do you see? I asked.
Be careful; he’s sleeping, but not like you think.
I could feel an augmentation of warmth filling my veins with power. My vision became much clearer, richer. Colors were bolder, sounds louder, and I could even hear Kale’s heart beat through his silly white Moses robes. I guess it works… Halloween is right around the corner. I reached out with my mind to try to read his thoughts. I didn’t know if it would work, but I had to try. All I got was static; nothing worth anything, so I gave up.
I followed Kale to the back of the house. Everything was wide open in this ritzy neighborhood. No fences or anything between houses. The grass was deep green, having come back from the oppressive heat of summer, and smelled like it had just been cut. I filled my lungs with it. Kale elbowed me to pay attention to what I was doing. I apologized with my eyes.
Before I knew it, Kale had drawn his sword-dagger thing. We entered through a sliding door into the kitchen of Stan’s house. No one sat eating lunch; no one had washed any dishes in quite a long time. Something was rotting in the sink. Probably in the trash can, too. Kale motioned for me to go to the garage while he stood guard. I knew, even without the benefit of reading his mind, that he preferred to avoid a confrontation with the Seer if we could.
I crept silently toward the white door that I assumed led to the garage. It was unlocked. When I opened it, I saw Kim’s back, her head slumped over on her chest, her body still taped to the chair. My heart failed me. Too late. She was limp. Dead.
***
UPSTAIRS, STANLEY ALEXANDER WAS sleeping. As he lay there, the creature within poked, prodded, and slid free of his body like excrement. It was not the biggest demon by any means, but covetousness, ruthlessness, and the will to act where others would not dare gave him rank and title.
He was called by many names. “The Seer” was one of them, and that because of the Bloodstone. His wings were long, black, and ragged, and hung around his twisted body like tattered sails on a forgotten ship. He pulled the left one free of the host and noticed for the ten-thousandth time that it had been clipped. The memory of how he had lost part of it made him seethe with anger.
He stood over eight-feet tall when hunched over. His eyes were dark red and glowing. A black fume fell constantly from his mouth. Two horns curved downward from the top of his skull and protected his face from the edge of the sword. The thin tail twitched and bobbed like that of an excited dog. The tip was barbed with a hook. Thorny scales ran up the length of his back, ending at his short neck.
The Seer took the red stone from the sleeping and weak husk of the man and held it. He looked into it and frowned with thin black lips. He sneered, yellow and brown rotten teeth exposing themselves in a menacing grin.
“You have come at last, daughter of El.” The voice was guttural. The stone throbbed, humming, and he watched through it as Airel opened the door to the garage, finding her best friend. The gasp that escaped her mouth made him smile, revealing crooked and gnarled teeth as he crossed his arms and embraced himself, shivering with excitement.
Then the stone showed him something else in the house—Airel’s guardian companion. The Seer howled in a shriek of delight and fury. Thick smoke vomited out from his mouth as he crouched, then he threw back his head and roared, “You return to me. My old friend—Kreios. KREIOS.”
The cry of the beast woke Stanley from the sleep of the dead. The house shook from footing to rafter. Dust rained down on the Seer, and Stan sat up in utter horror—he had never quite gotten used to it—as he saw what was standing next to his bed. Before he could gather the breath to scream, the Seer dove at him, grabbed his frightened face, and looked into his bloodshot eyes.
“Look at me, you sniveling slob. Look into my eyes. You will bring Airel to me; do not kill her, do you understand?”
“Do not kill her; yes, Master, I understand.” Stan’s voice was low and droned on. He was a man who had lost his soul and replaced it with nothing but darkness. He stood up and clawed at the open sores that refused to heal, covering his body from head to foot.
He was already dead; his body was trying to tell him so, but he would not believe it. As his body decayed and rotted, he still moved. He continued among the sentient, he was autonomous—this was evidence enough of his power, at least to him—which made him useful enough for the demon who pulled his strings. The Seer unfurled his ragged wings, enclosing his slave within them. A boiling pool of blackness collected at his clawed feet.
Stan smiled as he felt his strength returning. He felt unstoppable once more. Stan is the man—true master of the
Brotherhood. It was his destiny to destroy Airel before she could discover anything more of her true identity. Michael had done a wonderful job. Stan swelled with fatherly pride at the thought of his only son. He would move quickly through the ranks, indeed.
The Seer placed the Bloodstone into Stan’s hand. Stan replaced it around his neck. He felt like he was naked without it. Of course, he had plans of his own that did not involve the Seer. He would keep it. With it, he could do anything, go anywhere, and rise to be the most powerful being in the world.
Slave would be master.
The demon withdrew the shroud of his iniquitous wings, discharging Stan to his work, newly empowered by the unnatural. Stan fished out an ancient dagger from under the bed. He had stolen it; from where, he could no longer remember. These days he couldn’t remember much—his memories had been mixed and adulterated with those of a thousand hosts before him. In the final analysis, he had no idea who he was anymore. But it didn’t matter. Stan was the new Seer de facto, and soon he wouldn’t need the wretched lizard to call the plays, to direct and control the power. Soon…
***
I STOOD IN THE doorway to the garage frozen in horror—my best friend, dead. I felt like throwing up, but I held it down. How could…? This was all wrong; this kind of thing was not supposed to happen. Reverberating through my bones, calling me back from the nightmare, I heard an unearthly scream that chilled me absolutely, and more than the sight of Kim’s lifeless body.
“Kreios? KREIOS.”
Images superimposed themselves on top of each other, of the man I was growing to love in the Book, and of the man named Kale who had abducted me and kept me prisoner. His marble skin, blond, almost-white hair, and his odd ways—he seemed so old, but at the same time looked so young. It all crashed into me with violence, stopping me.
I looked at my hand on the doorjamb, but my mind saw beyond the physical. What I saw… angels, half-breed offspring, demons, Ke’elei, an immortal race, Kreios, Kale, Airel. Could it be? Could he still be alive? Why had the Book withheld that part of its story from me? Had it withheld anything else? Kreios was not merely one of the Sons of El; he was an angel, descended from heaven itself. He would live forever unless a demon like the Seer killed him, which even then was not an easy task. Kreios was a fearless warrior, with more skill in battle than I could dream of.
The Airel Saga Box Set: Young Adult Paranormal Romance Page 27