Twenty-Seven
Death Angels
I awake refreshed with Silas at my side. I don’t jump as I did before. Even though I know it is Zeke’s turn to watch over things, I am glad he has surprised me with his presence. I remember having a hard time sleeping after my talk with Micah last night. I have a feeling once I finally fell asleep, Silas came to put me under and make sure I stayed that way. Perhaps I was tossing and turning in my light sleep.
But now I cuddle into the “nook” as I call it, between his chest and arm as I lie on my side, scooting as close to him as possible. I smile into his chest as I feel his arm wrap around me and steady me there. I can hear voices down the hall. A lot of them.
“Who-all is here?” I ask in a hushed voice, hoping no one else knows I’m awake yet.
“Everyone.”
“Can you hear what they’re saying?”
“Every word.”
“And?” I ask.
“Everything is fine. You needn’t worry. Molly is more accepting than most of your kind. Honestly, the only one I sense reservations from is your father. He seems a bit concerned with you. He doesn’t quite understand what all this Bellator stuff means, and I think he’s afraid to ask more questions. Maybe he’s afraid of the truth itself.”
I ponder that for a while. Perhaps it’s time for me to have a heart-to-heart with my father. I’m still his daughter and the girl he raised, and one day the girl he will train. I have accepted my fate. It’s time he does.
* * *
After I’m dressed and down the hall into the open living room, I’m overwhelmed. There are so many people in this mediocre-sized home. Still, I smell the scent of bacon and eggs, and conclude Molly and Rain are probably cooking for our new guests. Half of them, after all, are in the kitchen with them.
Rain has seemed to take a special interest in Acrania and Obrum. Probably explaining what the vampires’ auras look like. I roll my eyes. But then I discover she hasn’t been wrong yet. She knew something was off with the brothers but also knew they weren’t a threat. Perhaps she sees more than I give her credit for.
“Dad,” I say, pulling him partially down the hallway, away from the others. He had been lingering in the back of the room, observing everyone, clutching a drink in his hand. Perhaps waiting patiently for the food. Though he showed no signs of mingling.
“Something is bothering you. Something other than the obvious. What is it? You’ve fought demons before. You aren’t scared,” I say.
“I’m not scared for myself,” he admits. “But for my daughter. All these years I thought I had lost another child. Be it a son or daughter. Now I know it was a daughter and she lives inside you. I’m not sure I know you at all anymore.”
“I’m not sure you’ve ever known me,” I say. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get to know me.”
“What is a Bellator? It sounds like a demon in and of itself.”
“I was named by the demons. But I fight for good, same as you. Micah says the Lord looks down on me with special favor. This is why the brothers were able to save my life that day, and every day since. This is how I can prove to you that you, and the rest of us, are on the right path. The path you and the ancestors have led us to. It’s just up to me now to continue to lead us.
“But I can’t do that without you. Not because you are my father, though that plays a definite part. But because you will be my teacher. I need you for this, and I need you accepting and strong. Can you do that much for me? Look at me as a daughter, yes. But for now, I have to be who the world has elected me to be.”
He places a hand upon my cheek. “When did you become wiser than me?”
“Dad,” I moan, taking his hand from my cheek. “You taught me to be wise. Everyone else has taught me to love, and the compassion I feel comes from who I am meant to be. It’s up to me now to decide who lives and who dies. It’s going to be a tough future with tough decisions. So, tell me. Why is everyone here? Why so early?”
“They are all awaiting Micah’s response for help. Zeke couldn’t get anyone to leave. And now Molly is cooking breakfast for everyone. Probably trying to keep herself sane. They’re worried. Without the angels’ help, I’m afraid we stand no chance at all. We will all perish.”
“Micah won’t let that happen,” I assure him. “We’ll find a way. With or without their help. Even if we have to pick them off one at a time.”
“That’s easier said than done. Damius hasn’t revealed who is with him, nor have we been able to find him.”
“You’ve been trying to find him?” I ask with horror.
“Of course we have. As one Huntsman stays with you, myself and the rest go hunting every night.” I shake my head. The thought of my dad risking his neck each night to save us all is a tough pill to swallow. I wouldn’t begin to know where to look.
“Do you think he is still in Jefferson?” I ask.
“He would stay close to his clan.”
“And his biggest threat,” I mutter.
“What do you mean?”
“He knows. He knows I’m the Bellator. He knew before we did. The only thing I can guess is he attacked me at first because I’m with Silas. But after putting Mom to sleep, he might have been able to read her mind. If she thought or dreamed of my sister, he would have known it.”
“He can read our minds?”
“I have reason to think so. At least when we are under. Silas has put me under before so I’m able to sleep. I think it would be easy for a predator of that sort to either read our minds or manipulate us into divulging secrets. These aren’t humans, Dad. Remember what they are.”
“I remember more than most,” he scoffs. “This house filled with them alone makes my blood boil something fierce.”
“They are our allies, Dad. And right now our only ones.” But as the words float from my mouth and off my tongue, the cool air blows into the house and everyone draws a quiet breath and a shiver. The eggs no longer have anyone cooking them, and everyone piles into the living room, including us, awaiting Micah’s magical entrance into our world.
“I come with word,” he says as the glow around him fades out and he stands before us as though he is a human same as me.
“What is it?” I ask. But soon there are two more figures, one on either side of him. The angels appear more like traditional photos than Micah. They have widespread wings which curl around them as they stand before us. But unlike angels, they don’t wear white gowns. On the contrary, they dress more as Silas and his brothers do.
The female’s hair is cut shorter than most females and is so black the light reflects blue from it. Her eyes have no pupils at all. They are only white balls in the sockets. The male’s eyes are the same, as well as his hair. They seem almost evil themselves.
“I don’t understand,” I tell Micah. “Is this how all angels look?”
“Not exactly,” he says. “This is Leahla and Sebastian. They are Death Angels.”
“What’s a Death Angel?” Molly asks, clutching a dishrag to her chest at the sight of them. They are a lot to take in. I never felt death had come to me when Micah appeared. He is so human-like. But these angels are not. There is no mistaking they are from another world.
“Death Angels are those who bring upon judgment on beings who wrongly prosecute or attack innocent groups,” Micah explains. “They are powerful and are your best chance at survival when Damius and his followers come for you. Even if you are outnumbered, you are not. I can’t promise everyone’s safety, but I can promise a more even fight.”
“Thank you,” I tell them. “I am—”
Micah holds up a hand. “They know who everyone is. They know everything, period. They are the eyes and ears of those wrongfully prosecuted. No need for further introductions.”
“Thank you,” my father says to Micah and the Death Angels. “Thank you for helping protect us all”
“There is no need to thank us, Christopher,” Leahla says. Her voice is strangely disturbing. Not like a huma
n and not like a demon, nor like Micah. It almost has an echo to it and it is deep. If I were on the wrong side of this battle, I would definitely be in fear for my life, if only from them. With her words, the angels, including Micah, dissipate into the heavy air of the room and once again all is silent. That is, until the uproar ensues.
Everyone begins speaking at once about how lucky we are and how incredible Leahla and Sebastian are. I peek to Silas and he offers me a wink. My father takes me by the arms, grabbing me into a hug. Perhaps his worries are not as great now.
I can only hope. But from this point on, one thing is certain. We will have our equal battle. Bring it on.
Twenty-Eight
A Birthday Shindig
It’s been a few days, and I got a call last night that sent me into a frenzy. Simone was attacked. She couldn’t make out her attacker, only that she woke with a man at the foot of her bed. This only heightens my fear for her. Had it been Damius and he wanted her asleep, then she would have been.
For whatever reason, he wanted her to see him standing there. Maybe so we would do exactly as we plan to — move Simone into the house with us. Or maybe he just wanted us to know that he can get to anyone, anywhere, so no one is safe. Either way we had no choice but to try and protect her.
So, late last night, the brothers, Simone, and myself helped bag up her clothes and few belongings and took them to the safe house and gave her the room right across from mine. The others usually crash in the living room anyway. Except Silas, who will stay by my side making certain I get to sleep and stay that way.
Our backyard has a high, seven-foot privacy fence and there are no neighbors on either side of us, so at times there are a few of us gearing up for battle back there. Practicing, I should say. Today, as Simone and I step out, it’s the new additions out there. Obrum, who is doing hand-to-hand combat with his twin Acrania, dodging, leaping, and striking. And Malinus and Jarion are creating fire from air, shooting it back and forth, and stopping it with a single raise of their hands. Next, they seem to create a ball of energy out of nowhere and throw it at one another. You can’t see it, but you know when it hits someone because that person goes sailing across the yard and onto their backside.
It’s quite extraordinary to watch. But how on Earth am I the one who must lead these great people into battle? The thought shakes me to my core. Who would listen to some, well, soon to be eighteen-year-old? Tomorrow is the day my world is to change forever.
I’ll no longer be the invisible girl with the blonde locks and mediocre job. I’ll be the Bellator, leading all into battle, daggers in hand. When did this happen, and why?
Since it’s my last day as a child, I demand to see my mother. No one wants to let me go. They think it unwise of me, but I have to visit her grave one last time. Who knows when I might get another chance? Dad allows Silas to accompany me, although I make him wait in the car.
The cemetery is small and although I’ve only been here once before, I have no trouble finding her headstone. Laura Lorraine Lester, Beloved Wife and Mother, it reads. A few flowers and a simple headstone are all that’s left to show my mother was ever here.
If I know my father, he has already packed up her belongings and stashed them in the attic. I suppose I can’t blame him. Having constant reminders of her around would tug at the old heartstrings.
I lie on top of the small amount of grass that has now grown over her gravesite. “Who am I, Mom? What am I supposed to do?” With everything I’ve seen and experienced, I half expect her to answer me, but she doesn’t.
“She’s not here anymore, Emma.” I hear Micah’s voice say. “This is why I hate cemeteries. So many loved ones want answers and they think they will find them here, but this is only where their bodies remain. Their souls are elsewhere. If you need comforting, you need not seek it here.”
I peer up at him, sitting up and brushing myself off. “I have nowhere else to go.”
“You have a house full of people waiting for you and counting on you. You will find peace in their loyalty and determination, I assure you. There grows a special bond between people who fight the good fight together,” he says. “Go in peace, Emma.”
With that I am alone. He has gone, and I am only left here with the shell of my mother, six feet below the ground, with no word of her whatsoever. I glance to Silas’s truck and see him offer me a half smile. I’m certain he’s unsure of how to comfort me. I am as well.
* * *
Silas and I take a joyride through the small-town back roads for an hour or so. He says it’s to do me good. A little fresh air. But when I return home I see why he did it. Streamers hang from the ceiling, along with a banner I’m sure Simone made which reads “Happy Birthday.” There are a couple of presents on a table and a small cake with punch nearby.
I chuckle. “What have you all done?”
“Well,” Simone begins, “we knew tomorrow would be a bad day for a party since none of us are sure what to expect, but turning eighteen is definitely something to celebrate, regardless.” She hugs me as Rain takes a quick picture and the rest grab themselves a cup of punch or a bite of cake.
I’ve never been one for parties, especially when I’m the guest of honor, but I can’t help feeling touched that so many people from different backgrounds of this world have come together, even for just a little while, to celebrate my coming of age. Perhaps that’s what it’s truly about: the Bellator here to rid the world of the unclean and unholy.
Either way, the action touches me. And for a moment I wish my mother were here to celebrate it with us. Although I’m not sure if she would be proud or scared. Maybe both.
As the day takes on life, I take note of Malinus making friends with Silas. I suppose it’s only natural with them being the same sort. Jarion, though the quiet type, speaks with Molly and David in a corner. Acrania and Obrum, with their lilac hair and black eyes, speak to me about their lifestyle of drinking blood and also living off human food to survive. They’ve been vampires for more than fifty years, though they only appear to be in their twenties.
Simone and Kutz are cuddled up in a corner, whispering in one another’s ears as she sits in his lap. My father watches over everyone, and for the first time there’s a hint of a smile on his face, as if his heart has been opened up to something he didn’t know could exist. But for me, the main attraction of the party is Zeke and Rain, who now are sitting awfully close to one another and talking soft as if in secret. Zeke finally smiles and Rain lets out a rather girlie laugh. I’d say the party is a success.
Toward the end I’m asked to open the few gifts I have on a table. Simone got me some cute clothes, Molly and Rain got me a journal to document my experiences, and the brothers have managed to fix the door of my car to shut as though it was never broken in the first place. I laugh as they tell me. Something tells me that was Silas’s idea.
It reminds me of the simple days of the restaurant where my biggest worry was someone seeing me trying to close the thing to no avail. Now look at everything. I’m in a room full of demons, half-breeds, vampires, and Huntsmen. And here I sit, their Bellator. My, how things have changed in the past two months.
The rest of the party carries on while everyone mingles, even my father, and I glance at the clock to see it’s now nine at night. In three hours I’ll know everything I’m supposed to. I’ll be able to fight like no other. I’ll be able to see things others cannot.
I could say everything will change, but I certainly hope not. Or do I? A change could help me out a lot. A little bit of understanding couldn’t hurt. Perhaps understanding awaits me on the other side of eighteen. Knowledge even.
But as I roll all this over in my mind, I glance up from my cup of punch to see Zeke lean in slightly and kiss Rain ever so carefully on the cheek. She blushes red and takes his hand in hers. Zeke of all people. And falling for a Huntsman as his brother did. I never thought I would see the day. It’s now I’m reminded just what I’m fighting for.
I’m fighting for
the good that is in everyone here. We all have good and bad inside us, but the people in this room work hard every day to control their bad feelings and act only on the good. I’m fighting for their freedom to continue. I’m fighting for their lives in general. And I’ll fight until I have nothing left.
Twenty-Nine
Birth of the Bellator
When time inches closer to midnight, my father escorts me to my bedroom. He says the coming of age is for no one’s eyes by the Almighty’s. Although Micah is there, escorting me with him.
“Take care of her,” my father instructs.
“Always,” Micah answers. The door shuts and there are still two more hours until I’m eighteen. I know my father is standing guard by the door. I hear him cough or clear his throat every now and again. Silas wanted to be with me so badly but my father says it’s just not allowed.
I’ll have to take his word for it. I’ve never seen it with my own eyes nor heard of it until it was in relevance to myself. Micah sits on the edge of my bed, our hands wrapped around one another’s.
“Will I still be me?” I ask him.
“Of course. Still you, just not as fragile.”
I shake my head. “Does it…does it hurt?” His eyes stare back at me with no answer, which is as good an answer as any. He need not say it. I know now.
The power of one coming of age is probably bad enough, but I will have the power of two. I’m guessing that means it will hurt twice as bad. I lean back against the headboard, awaiting my fate. What will it be like? What will happen?
I could ask Micah, and truth be told, he would probably tell me, but maybe it’s best I don’t know. I’m not sure how long it will last before I’m able to come out of my room and face the others. And now that worry plagues me.
How will the others react? Will I seem different to them? Appear different even? Will Silas still love me as he does now? So many questions run through me that Micah couldn’t possibly answer them all and surely not to my liking. Yes, it’s better if I don’t know.
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