Revelations: The Black Chalice (Revelations Series Book 1)

by Lauretta Hignett

  Silence. The light stayed on. The channel was still open.

  “I guess no one is home?” I ventured.

  Nate kicked the rock beside him. “Malach!”

  Silence.

  “Dad! C’mon!”

  I cleared my throat roughly. “Um, do you think you should call one of those funny cherub things?”

  Nate furrowed his brow. “One should have already appeared. They come as soon as the channel is open, to see who we want to talk to. If nothing else, they’re helpful in going to fetch who you want to speak with.”

  I shivered. “So, something is wrong.”

  Nate nodded and lifted his head. “Yes, something is wrong.” His beautiful, sulky mouth was downturned, and he started looking around the cave, his dark eyes cold and assessing. “But I am not going to worry for now,” he said nonchalantly, his tone shifting slightly.

  But I could hear the strain in his voice. I hugged my knees tighter and watched him idly wander around my little light circle. “We’re not going to worry? Even though this is maybe the first time ever that a cherub hasn’t shown up when you open the channel?”

  “No. We will stay here for now so you will be safe and comfortable.” He finished his circuit of the little cave we were in, having inspected every corner, and he came back to face me and smiled. “I’m sure there’s nothing wrong. We will wait for Alex to return, and then we will—”

  Suddenly, his hand shot out and he grasped something in his fist. For a wild moment, it looked like he was wrestling with thin air, in a wild and vigorous pantomime. He was grappling with something invisible, but whatever it was, it gave a loud squarrk as he gripped it with both hands and squeezed it hard. Then, both his arms shot up above his head, as the invisible thing in his grasp tried to escape, but he held tight. Flexing his biceps, he brought it back down to face level and growled at it menacingly.

  “Cessare.” Nate squeezed his fists together again, and the thing in his hands gave a very high-pitched squeak. “Mostrati,” he growled. “Show yourself. Now!”

  Slowly, a glow appeared in the space between his fists, and features started to form out of the soft light: Tiny golden wings, chubby little thighs, a rounded belly, pink cheeks, and a mop of golden hair. It was almost the same as the one I had seen by the pool the night I was attacked. This one was bigger; his hair shone a little brighter. He had pure amber eyes that were currently glaring daggers at Nate.

  “Nathaniel Armanduccio,” the cherub whined, his voice petulant. “You do not have to hold me so tightly. I am not going anywhere.” He rolled his vowels and enunciated every word like an English elocution teacher, clearly proud of his language skills. I wondered if he was trying to set himself apart from his Imp cousins, who chattered and gibbered warmly. I knew which one I preferred.

  “You were about to go somewhere,” Nate growled back at the cherub. “Where were you going, little Katadonis?”

  “I appeared as you called. I am here to do your bidding.”

  “You did not appear when I called the light circle,” Nate said through clenched teeth. “You were always here. You’ve been following us.” He tightened his grip again, and the cherub’s eyes flew wide.

  “I would never do anything to harm you, Armanduccio,” the cherub whined in his nasally voice.

  Nate shook his head in disgust. “I know you cannot lie, Katadonis. So you avoid the question. And you say you would never do anything to harm me, but I know that you mean that you would never do anything to harm me directly.” Nate pulled the winged creature closer to his face and glowered at him. “So tell me now—why were you following us?’

  A sly look came into the cherub’s eyes, and he stopped trying to wrench Nate’s hands off his belly.

  “I see you have finally changed sides, Nephilim. I knew that your relationship with that filthy Cambion would taint your soul.”

  I swear I saw a fire behind Nate’s eyes. “I have not switched anything. My side, as always, is on the side of honesty and good. I am on the side that does not harm, that does not murder.”

  “Sometimes, we must make sacrifices for the greater good,” the cherub spat. “And the Great Plan must continue.”

  A rumbling voice came from behind me. “Must it?”

  It was Alex, appearing in the cave entrance. I glanced over; his shirt was torn, and some hair had escaped from his topknot, but he looked otherwise unharmed. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as he stormed toward us. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the cherub. “Why?” Alex asked. “Why must the Great Plan continue?”

  The cherub widened his eyes, suddenly losing confidence at Alex’s approach. “It is what God wants.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It is… it is…” The little creature started straining in Nate’s hands again.

  “You don’t know,” Alex growled, and the creature flinched. “You don’t know what God wants, because God has not spoken to us in millennia.”

  “God speaks through the Church,” the cherub spat, trying to prise the fingers off himself unsuccessfully. “They receive divine guidance.”

  “God only ever speaks through the Metatron.” Nate said firmly. “Only Metatron can translate; it was what he was created for.” Nate’s eyes dimmed; the fire died a little. “But Metatron has not channeled God’s words since the Fall.”

  “And he’s gone mad now, hasn’t he?” The cherub sneered. “The archangel Metatron has lost his marbles, and the Church has picked up the slack. They are left to interpret God’s will. And, it is God’s will that the plan continue, and it is God’s plan”—he pointed a chubby finger at me—“that this girl must die.”

  Still stuck in my light circle, I recoiled at the malevolence of this tiny, baby-faced creature. I’d faced hatred and anger before, but strangely, it frightened me even more that it was coming from a creature from heaven.

  Snarling, Alex ripped the cherub out of Nate’s grip and squeezed him hard. “You’ve been feeding them information, haven’t you? The Church - the Sanctum Domini - you’ve been spying for them.”

  The cherub sneered. “Of course. We know whose side we’re on.”

  Alex roared. “Who has given them their powers? How are they so strong?”

  “This is one battle you’re never going to win, Cambion.” The cherub started laughing, a wheezing, sappy sound. “While some of the host are content to do nothing, there are some that will go to war for God.”

  This time, it was Nate who shouted. “Angels are helping them? Who is helping them? Who?”

  The cherub threw his head back and laughed smugly. Slowly, a golden light surrounded his chest, and he evaporated into the glow, leaving Alex clutching the thin air.

  Alex swore. “That little bastard. I would take a thousand imps for pizza any day of the year and eat a hundred slices of pineapple and ham, rather than having to deal with that.”

  “They are not usually as slimy at this,” Nate said. “Some of them have been corrupted.”

  But my focus shifted, and panic surged in my chest. “Guys!” I shouted. “The circle!”

  The light had begun to dim. The channel was closing. Nate shook his head, confused. “But I haven’t said the words to close it…”

  “Someone else is closing it for you,” Alex muttered as he squatted down next to me just outside the fading light circle. “Are you okay?”

  I clutched at my head; the pain felt like it was going to cleave it in two. “The screaming is starting again,” I gasped. “I don’t know if I can…” I looked up at Alex, pleading. He looked back at me, helpless, unwilling to break into the circle that was softening the screams. But it was rapidly fading...

  “They’re doing this on purpose,” I whispered. “The cherubs have told Godric where we are and what we’re doing. They know the circle was protecting me. They know we can’t go down any farther—the pain will kill me.”

  Alex glanced up at Nate, worried. “You can’t do anything?”

  Nate glanced around
the cave, his eyes wild, jaw tensed. “The circle is being closed from the other side; I can’t keep it open. The Katadonis has disappeared—he’s probably reported to the Sanctum Domini that we are stuck here. I just hope—”

  “It’s not your dad,” Alex said firmly.

  “But—”

  “It’s not. Don’t worry.” Alex looked back down toward me; the light fading rapidly. The sounds of torment hit a crescendo, and unbelievably, kept getting louder and louder. With my clenched fists, I started hitting myself in the head again, over and over and over, aiming for my ears even though it didn’t dull the sounds of excruciating pain.

  Through the screams, I heard Alex snarl as though very far away, when in reality he was right next to me. “The light is almost gone.”

  Nate’s voice floated on the edge of the sounds of torment. “And Godric is nearly here. Alex… I can’t—”

  “It’s okay, Nate.” Alex was reassuring, as though his friend was scared. “We’re done here. Let him come,” he growled. “We are going to fight.”

  He leaned down closer to me, and I felt the passion in his voice vibrate through me. “Woman, I am going to save you.”

  Just then, the light blinked out, and the screams split me open completely. My vision tunneled; the pain was unbearable. The deep void of unconsciousness was calling to me like a siren; offering sweet hope of relief from the unbearable sounds of torture. But I tried to stay awake, not willing to let Alex disappear from my eyes for fear that he would not be here when I opened them.

  The pain was too much. I fell into the blackness, my screams fading in a dull echo of what I was hearing in my mind. The last thing I heard was the sound of fists hitting flesh, granite rock crumbling to dust, and grunts of pain. The smell of musty incense and the tang of desperation. And the last thing I felt was strong arms around me, the rush of wind in my hair, and I fell willingly, headfirst, into the scent of chocolate and fireworks.

  Chapter Thirty

  The blanket around me was so soft that it felt like liquid on my skin. As my subconscious eased me out of my deep, deathlike sleep, I thought for a moment that I might be back in the float tank in Farrah’s office.

  I’d used it a few times when I visited my therapist. It was a state-of-the-art, magnesium-filled, body temperature water isolation tank, and she encouraged me to meditate in there whenever I was feeling anxious.

  But then, my brain registered the heaviness of my body, weighted with sleep. I immediately readjusted my reality, placing myself on a very soft surface, wrapped in a blanket.

  Slowly, I began to notice other things. Like how the scent of the blanket made my insides melt. It smelled like strength, excitement, and sensuousness all at the same time.

  With that realization came the memories.

  The caves. The tortured screaming. The fighting.

  And Alex. He’d fought off my attackers and carried me out of the caves. And now I was back here at his suite, wrapped in his comforter, lying on his bed.

  Thank God.

  As sleep relaxed its grip on me, I realized I could hear Alex’s voice. He was speaking in a low tone, probably trying not to wake me. I strained my ears, trying to catch his words. A wild rush of relief surged through me at the proof that Alex was alive and unharmed; it was so strong it almost made me relax back into sleep.

  But I forced myself to listen to his words.

  “...Escaped, but we killed the other one,” he said brusquely. He sounded like he was giving a report. “Nate got the last assassin as they were fleeing out of the caves. So it’s just Godric still out there.”

  The other voice was haughty, commanding, and distinctly female. “It’s not just Godric. There’s more.”

  I recognized that voice. The last time I’d heard it, it had sounded slightly different; it resonated deeper through the flames of the hell channel.

  Alex was talking to his mother. And she was with us, in this room. “The Sanctum Domeni are more than just one small group,” she went on in her deep, commanding voice. “I have intelligence that suggests that they have banded together with other religious zealots. Their ranks have been bolstered by the extremists of the other Abrahamic religions.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Alex said grimly. “I thought at least one of the assassins smelled different. I guess, at the very least, they’re not fighting each other anymore.”

  “And you think that they might be working with some of the Heavenly Host?”

  “Nate is worried that his dad might be involved.” I could hear Alex’s frown in his voice. “He didn’t come when Nate called him.”

  Nimue huffed. “I would be surprised if he was. It’s not like him to actually do anything.” Her voice sounded curiously spiteful. “He’s too busy sticking his head in the sand.”

  “Be nice,” Alex growled. “He’s doing what he thinks is the right thing. Like you are.”

  “I suppose,” Nimue sighed haughtily. “Malach is many things, but he is not the type to sanction murder, for any reason.”

  “Exactly. I think there’s another reason why he didn’t come when he was called. And Nate is worried about whatever that reason is, too.”

  Desperate to see him, I cracked open one of my eyelids so I could make out their hazy shapes. My eyes confirmed that I was in Alex’s bedroom, in the middle of his luxurious king-sized bed. Alex and Nimue stood by the glass wall overlooking the lush jungle outside.

  Alex looked absolutely perfect; like a young Norse god come to earth from Valhalla and trying to blend in to the crowd by wearing chinos and a t-shirt. Out of tiny slits in my eyes, I devoured him, giddy with relief that he was okay. The dazzling whiteness of his shirt emphasized his bulging biceps and chest, and highlighted his golden skin. He was unshaven; the dark-blond stubble was becoming a rough beard, but it made his strong jaw and perfect planes of his cheekbones more sculpted, more defined.

  But, as usual, it wasn’t his arresting beauty that captured my attention and made my insides melt. It was the fire in his icy-blue eyes; it was the way he held his head—formidable, strong, and unrelenting. It was the way he clenched his fists and growled. It was the overwhelming passion that permeated every fiber of his being.

  Reluctantly, I glanced at his mother. Nimue was in a complete human form, as real as I was, but her beauty and presence was staggering. She carried herself like a queen.

  As I watched, she took a step closer to her son. “You face challenges you have never seen before,” she said quietly. “There are enemies in heaven. The enemies down here on earth have all united. And they are all fighting you,” she said, her tone gentle. “Aleksander, do you know what you are doing?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not like you to shy away from a fight, Nimue.”

  “For the love of all that’s unholy, call me Mom,” she replied, exasperated. “And that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I don’t want her getting hurt,” he said softly, his head turning toward me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut again.

  “Hmmm. That’s interesting,” Nimue murmured. I could hear the slow, deliberate tap of her footsteps as she came closer to me. “You have feelings for her,” she said finally. “I wonder if any of the prophets saw that coming.”

  My heart stopped beating. Wildly, I wondered if I was still dreaming.

  Or dead and gone to heaven.

  Alex didn’t speak again, and there was a long silence. Finally, when Nimue’s voice echoed over to me, I felt her gaze, hot on my skin. I felt her studying me intently, so I kept my eyes shut and my breathing soft while I tried to restart my heart.

  “Who would have thought,” she said idly, “that the son of a demon would fall in love with the Black Chalice.” She gave a short laugh. “I guess that’s the whole point. That’s probably what the prophets meant. The child might not necessarily be evil, but any offspring would be affiliated with hell.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” Alex said bluntly, and my heart gave anoth
er lurch. What did that mean?

  “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already,” Nimue said, emphasising the word ‘it.’ “I can feel her energy pulling at even me, and I have no sperm in my body with which to impregnate her.”

  Her voice stopped abruptly. I felt the temperature drop. “Oh,” Nimue said softly. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Her voice moved away as she walked back toward the glass wall, back to her son. “You don’t know whether you love her for her, or if it’s just because her energy pulls you to her.”

  “No.” His voice was harsh, but then his tone changed and he sighed heavily. “Yes, I feel her pull, but it’s easily resisted.”

  “Mortal men find it much harder.”

  “Half-breeds like me must be able to resist easier.”

  “And Nate?”

  There was silence from Alex, for a whole minute. And I knew it was a minute, because I counted every second.

  “I’m guessing he finds it much, much harder to resist her. Because he doesn’t feel the same way for her,” Nimue murmured.

  “Nate is fine.”

  “Nate would never step on your toes,” Nimue said idly. “But let’s be honest here—the pleasures of the flesh are what made Nate sympathetic to your little cause. Women… men… I know he’s indulged his human impulses, and I know he enjoys both masculine and feminine pleasures.”

  “Mom,” Alex grumbled, a warning.

  “And good for him!” Nimue said brightly. “On that note, he gets no judgement from me. He loves humanity; he loves human sexuality as we do. Pleasure is divine,” she said patronizingly. “You could do well to experiment a little more, Alex.”

  So now I’d learned two things: Alex had feelings for me, and Nate was clearly bisexual.

  “Mom, please.”

  “Nate is a sexual being. I know he’d feel the pull of your little Chalice there and feel it strongly. I’ve watched him seduce before, and he’s good. He’s holding himself back for your sake.”

  “Probably, yes.” Alex muttered. “We haven’t talked about it.”