Wars & Wings

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Wars & Wings Page 7

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem


  I let my legs rest and go about punching the mattress. Somewhere between the hits my sorrow turns to anger as I deliver each blow harder. A slight pain throbs in my hands, but I ignore it. I need to get back to my family and friends. My arms, legs, and hands are bright red, and some of the knuckles are cracked open. Blood trickles out, but I welcome the pain. It makes me alive. What seems like hours later, but is probably only thirty more minutes, I quit my regimen and take a bath to get rid of the sweat.

  Turning on the water to scalding hot, I inhale the sweet aroma of lilacs wafting up from the tub. My body glistens while I vigorously use the loofa as I try to wipe off the stench of Aiden. I relax for a moment, soaking in the calming effects of the lavender fragrance.

  While in the bathtub, I try to conjure weights or tension bands. Neither appears. Aiden knows I’d use one and chuck it as his evil head, which reminds me of my next task for today.

  Lifting my refreshed body from the water, I dry off and dress in a clean pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt.

  My sister told me that it’s finals week at school. I’m missing the exams, but who cares? I miss my friends and the routine of going to classes. What really hurts me more is that Aiden has robbed me of my junior year. Isn’t this supposed to be the best time of a teenagers’ life?

  And he’s taken that from me, time away from my family, from my friends, and from Shay. Okay, that last one sounds a bit shallow, but he’s the first real boyfriend I’ve had and he’s my soul mate. My heart truly aches from being away from him.

  I move the bed back to its original location and conjure paper and a pen. But the pen never appears. Great. I try for a pencil. Nothing. How am I supposed to make a list without a writing instrument? Aiden must have a list of all known items that cannot enter this room. A pen or a pencil would make an excellent weapon for stabbing his black heart with.

  Sorting through other potential items I could use to write, I try markers, crayons, and paint. Nothing appears. Well, a tube of black paint does appear but no paintbrush. I picture using that to gouge out Aiden’s eyes. No wonder those are on the list.

  I rub the paper between my fingers, gazing onto the floor where my cell phone lays. I never could conjure a reading devise; it had to be no technology.

  Hum.

  What did they use to write with in the olden days?

  Paint. Nope, tried that.

  Ink. Definitely a no to that one. The quill tip is a dagger-like object.

  Chalk.

  Yes!

  A black board and chalk appear in my hands. I’ve never been so thrilled to see that fat, white tube before. Yeah, there is no way I could do any damage with it. The powder is leaving white residue in my palms and fingers, and when I try smashing it against the board, it falls apart into large chunks.

  At least I now have something to use.

  Immediately, I draw a line down the center of the black board. On the left, I write “Name” and on the right side, I put “Characteristics.”

  Name Characteristics

  Fairy Wings. Time manipulation.

  Angel Wings. Good, but maybe not.

  Nephilim Wings. Strong. Cunning.

  Werewolf No. Never seen him shift into anything.

  Human No. He has black wings.

  Demon ???

  Unknown ???

  Well, okay, that didn’t help me at all. I move my hand to wipe the slate clean but stop. Maybe I need to keep it and add to it when I think of anything else. I erase it anyway in case Aiden is spying on me.

  But what else do I know about each Order? I look at my board again. Apparently, not much. I think back to everything Kieran and Shay have told me about themselves and their Orders.

  I recall the afternoon after the warehouse incident where Kieran told me about angels. That was nine weeks ago.

  He told me he’s a guardian angel and a member of the Third Hierarchy of Angels. Archangels are members of the Second Hierarchy of Angels. Seraphs are in the First, and each level has particular gifts. As a guardian angel, Kieran could create Protection Orbs around himself, but not others; he can disappear or be ghost-like and can fly. He uses angel Light as a weapon that draws out evil. To know if a being is an angel, they must allow humans—Ordinaries—to “see” their tattoo by using Light. And rare people, like me, can see through their Light without assistance. Both angels and demons have wings and a special symbol. Males have theirs on their upper arm while females get theirs on the undersides of their wrists, and it’s called a Triquetra symbol.

  Fairies have a different kind of mark. They have either a blue lily if they are of the Winter Court or a green lily if they are of Summer, like Sidelle. And werewolves have a paw print.

  Shay has the same Mark and has wings. As God’s warriors, he has enhanced human traits: speed, hearing, and strength. Plus, he’s a member of the Order of Naturals—beings who live longer lives.

  I guess that sort of narrowed it down since Aiden does have wings. He must be a Fairy, Angel, or Nephilim. Come to think about it, I’ve also confirmed a tattoo on his arm. It was during gym and the whole class, even me, stared at his perfectly sculpted body.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shay

  SATURDAY, SIX HOURS after Zoe’s disappearance.

  TWO HOURS LATER, WE make the descent into Las Vegas. I feel the downward pressure, making me stir from my sleep. Through the small window bright lights illuminate the strip. We land fifteen minutes outside of Vegas Boulevard at Bellator Executive Suites on their own private runway.

  I shouldn’t be surprised on how well the Bellator family has done. They are one of the oldest packs in North America, and their ancestors date back to the 1600’s from England.

  Outside the runway is a black SUV awaiting with its doors open. Vash glides down the mobile stairway and onto the red carpet. I follow, making sure I have my duffle bag. The driver steps forward and grabs Vash’s bag and extends his hand to mine. I relinquish it and watch as it’s placed in the back. Vash whispers something into the driver’s ear. He nods and saunters back to the office building.

  “I told him that we don’t need his services today, and I’d like to drive,” Vash informs me.

  “Yeah, I don’t think he needs to witness anything that I end up doing.”

  “I’ll do my best to ensure it doesn’t come to that, or that I need to call my cleanup crew.”

  I nod my gratitude and climb into the passenger seat. “Since it’s early and the clubs are still in full swing, let’s hit a few bars to see what the climate is like,” I suggest. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here.” My eyes follow the massive towers and blinking lights head of us, even though we’re a few miles away.

  “I’ve secured two rooms at The Cosmo for us,” Vash says.

  “Thanks. I haven’t even thought about that. My only thoughts have been to come out here and see what anyone can tell us about Zoe, or who has her, and why.”

  “Do have you a specific bar in mind? We need to start somewhere.”

  “Yes, I know a demon who might help us. I spared her life some time ago, but I don’t know if she still hangs out there or not. She used to be a regular at the Purple Zebra, right outside of The Flamingo.”

  “All right, yeah, I’ve heard of that place.”

  Vash creeps the massive SUV down Las Vegas Boulevard, dodging drunk party-goers, and takes a right onto a service road between The Flamingo and O’Shea’s Casino. He stops the vehicle in a no parking area and gets out. “Let’s go,” he says.

  “Won’t you get a ticket?” I’m hesitant to leave my bag in the back, especially if it gets towed away. “Let me grab a few more items out, just in case.”

  Vash clicks the back hatch open, and I rummage through, grabbing more daggers and knives, sheathing them into holsters that are strapped to my thighs.

  “No. Every cop in Vegas knows this vehicle.” He kicks the license plate, drawing my attention.” It reads: BELLATOR. “We’ll be able to park it wherever, right in fro
nt of main doors, alleys, delivery spots, and yes, even the fifteen-minute parking places. While the city has granted the company use of the fire lanes and handicap spots, we don’t ever park there. People with needs use those spaces. As long as I still have two working legs, I can walk a few feet.”

  We approach the violet doors of the casino, and my heart beats in time to the music. The place hasn’t changed much, if any, since the last time I was here. The larger than life purple-striped zebra still greets us at the door. Zoe would love this place since all the cups and glasses are various shades of purple along with the neon lights, the menus, and the advertisements. I make a mental note to bring her here after we win the war. But first, I need to find her.

  We stroll to the bartender and plop down on two bar stools. His back is turned to us, fixing someone their drink. We wait.

  As he turns around, his eyes widen slightly as he huffs. “What can I get you?” he shouts over the blaring music. His mask slides back into place hiding his recognition of what we are, which is why he doesn’t card us for the alcohol.

  “I’m looking for Oriana,” I say. “Know where she is?”

  “Nope. Haven’t seen her in a long time. Years, maybe.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” I stand, leaning closer to him.

  “Me?” He lowers his voice. “Never Nephilim. Just doing my job, keeping my head down.” He sets a beer down in front of us, even though we hadn’t ordered it. “Who’s this? Haven’t known you to get a partner. Thought you were a solo worker.”

  “I usually am, but not today.”

  “Don’t play with me, Demon,” Vash growls. “Oriana. Where has she been hanging?” He doesn’t have to shout, I can hear his chest rumble.

  The bartender’s nose flares, but he keeps any quips to himself. Wise choice.

  “Fine, you don’t have to go all whatever you are on me.” Using a white towel, he cleans a spill. “She’s been down on her luck lately and got kicked out of the high stakes games a few weeks ago. You’ll find her at the penny slots.” He nods to the right.

  “This better be good intel,” I threaten. “Or I’ll be back after your shift and beat it out of you.”

  “It’s good, I swear. Oriana walked in a couple hours ago. She’s drinking today’s special. It’s the drink that flashes purple and white, in that three-foot plastic bottle.” He holds up an empty one.

  I nod to Vash, and we leave the bartender to his grumbling. We head farther into the room and scan the crowd. I know exactly where the penny slots are. After people part the aisles for us, I spot her in the far corner. I stalk in her direction, but Vash pulls on my arm.

  “What does she look like, and what is she? I need to know so I can prepare myself, if need be.”

  “She’s the one in the rainbow hair sitting on our left. She’s a Knight. Pretty harmless, but on a good day, she will fight.”

  “Okay, you go directly toward her, and I’ll come in from a different side in case she decides to run.”

  “Good plan.”

  I continue my way toward the Demon Knight sitting in front of a purple zebra machine, hoping that today isn’t a bad day for her. The bar is crowded even at this time of the morning. I don’t want to have to fight her and accidently injure an Ordinary. With any luck, she’ll see reason and give me information, or we can somehow get her into the alley.

  I glance over her shoulder to see how much money is in the machine. She’s betting high, and her balance is in the low thousands. But since this is a penny slot, her total is a bit over ten bucks. She’s placing her last bet when I tap her on the shoulder.

  “Get your hand off me,” she yells but remains staring at the screen. “This machine is taken.”

  “I think you’re done.” I dig my fingers into her shoulder.

  “I said...” She spins around to face me. “Oh, it’s you. I was having an okay day, but it seems that it’s gotten a bit worse.” She scans me up and down. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You still holed up in Minnesota?”

  “Yes.”

  “What ya doing in Vegas?” Oriana swivels back to the screen and presses the “Bid” button.

  “Searching for you.” I lean against the machine, pressing closely to her.

  “Well, you found me, so now you can get lost.” She waves her hand.

  “Hey, now, is that how you talk to someone who spared your life?”

  “We’re even, Shay.”

  “Not even close.”

  “What do you want?” Oriana slumps her shoulders in defeat. “Since you’re not going to let me continue playing until you get what you need from me, so shoot.”

  “Answers.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  “That may be true, but you might know someone who does.”

  “What do I get out of it?”

  “Your life.” Vash steps out from other side of the machine. “Now, let’s go somewhere a bit quieter, so we can talk like civilized beings.”

  “But I’m not done here,” Oriana whines.

  I move to stand on her other side, one hand leaning against the machine. With my other hand, I press the “Bid” button, and we all watch the pictures go around and around.

  “Come on zebra.” Oriana bounces in her seat. “Momma needs a new pair of shoes!” I roll my eyes. The first picture stops on a purple zebra. “Oh, yeah. Come on. Come on. Come on.” She hits the front of the machine as if that will help her get lucky. The second picture lands on a purple zebra. Dull silver Light glows under my palm that’s touching the top of the machine. It’s inconspicuous with all the other neon signs flashing, the machines swirling, and drinks blinking in cups.

  Vash smirks at her and taps his fingers on the side of the machine. He has no powers, but Oriana doesn’t know that.

  “Hey, stop doing that.” She slaps Vash’s hand away. “This is it.”

  The screen totters between the purple and the pink zebra. The last picture rolls to a stop.

  My face mirrors Vash’s smirk. She’s going to hit the big jackpot.

  “Please, please, please.” Oriana’s head tilts back.

  “I didn’t know you were the praying type,” I say.

  “A demon’s gotta do what a demon’s gotta do.”

  The light on top flashes like an ambulance and sirens blare. “WINNER, WINNER, WINNER” scrolls across the middle screen.

  “Oh, hells.” She kicks the stool away and jumps up and down. “I won. I won. I finally won!” She glares around at the other gamblers. Some clap and others scowl.

  “See what a little faith will do?” I glance at Vash, and his face is stern. He knows what I did, but I don’t care. I ignore him as a security officer dashes in our direction.

  “Congratulations, miss,” he says. “I need to verify your player’s card and will escort you to the Guest Service counter.”

  Oriana beams. Purple lights reflect across her face. She can’t stand still. The officer checks Oriana’s card and nods for her to follow.

  Vash stops me from following her. “Why did you do that?” he asks.

  “I thought if she won some money, she’ll be on a high and more apt to answering our questions. If she lost everything, she’d be depressed and reluctant to help.” I shrug. “I’m not going to justify my actions to you. I need answers, and she’s going to give them to me.”

  We catch up to them and wait for Oriana to get a payment voucher. She turns and heads back to a different penny machine, but I block her path.

  “I think it’s time to take your winnings and leave while you’re still ahead.”

  “Get out of my way, Shay.”

  “No. You’re going to answer my questions.”

  “Hell, no. Now, I’m on a winning streak. I can’t stop now.”

  “Yes, you can,” I grit though my teeth.

  “I can’t—”

  “Please. Give me ten minutes.” I can see her wavering. It’s sad, really. She doesn’t have the money to spend, yet this is all she wants
to do. How did she get like this? I can’t save her if she doesn’t want to be saved. But I can save Zoe. “If you don’t, I’ll make you lose all of it and more.”

  “You did this?” She holds up her credit voucher. I nod. “No, you didn’t,” she huffs.

  My face shows nothing. She launches herself toward me. I dodge her punches, but she persists. She shoves me hard. I jump, missing her leg sweep. She comes at me again as I step aside. I don’t want to fight her in here or at all. People are moving out of our way, and the floor is shaking a bit. Security officers are coming.

  Vash is on her in a flash, pinning her arms behind her. “Stop,” he demands. “Do you want to be kicked out from this casino? I can make that happen.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she spits back. “There are others who will let me in.”

  “I can ban you from all of them in Las Vegas. Don’t push me.”

  She hangs her head. “Where are we going?”

  “Follow me,” Vash says as he releases her.

  Oriana glances my way. “After you,” I say.

  Vash leads us through an emergency exit and out to the alley where the SUV is parked. There are no bystanders milling around, so this is perfect.

  “So, talk.” Oriana leans against the brick wall.

  “Have you heard anything about a demon who is keeping someone prisoner?” I ask.

  “You have to be a bit more specific on that. Hell has a ton of beings in its cells.”

  I inhale and close my eyes.

  “How about any Ordinaries being held?” Vash asks.

  “No.” She flicks her eyes to mine. “Wait, humans? No. We don’t take them to Hell.”

  “You sure about that?” I ask. “Because I was there.”

  “But you’re not a full human; you’re a Nephilim.”

  “True, but because you don’t know of any, doesn’t mean that other demons don’t take them there.”

  “Look, I can’t betray my own kind.”

  “Yes, you can, and you will.”

 

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