Retribution, Devotion

by Kai Leakes

  The pages that Lenox handed the Elder King earlier but were now on his desk flew into King Omri’s hands, shifting while he glanced over the rim of his glasses. “Ah, let me see, forgive me for before, son. You are correct. This fleshly form has been on earth for too long and now it catching up to me; it had me in my emotions.”

  The Elder King tapped the paper with his finger as if jarring his memory. His intense gaze lit up behind his rimmed glasses and he gave a warming smile. “Ah yes, Michael. My dear brother. The Arch who left too soon with his sacrifice. His name is written in the true tongue of the Most High, which is why you cannot read it yet. His name is on the list of angels that died in the first war.”

  Say what? ran in Lenox mind. The Most High’s leading angel, the rumored Angel of Death not only sacrificed his gift creating the Sin Eaters but he died!

  He shook his head in disbelief while pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, but I do not understand.”

  Gabriel shook his head. Creases formed around his slight almond-shaped golden eyes as he looked through the pages in fondness. “He’ll tell you that story once you find him with the help of the books. I myself only learned later in my years mourning that his and my fellow brothers and sisters whose lives were lost were not dead, as you know well. After my journal was hidden, Michael gave his journal to his dragons gifted by our younger brother. The other, the final book, was also given to Michael by my sister; it lay in his hands lost when I saw him fall to his death, but I assumed wrong.”

  “But . . .”

  Holding his hand up, the High King cut Lenox off. “I know all of this now because I know. Again, I am proud of what you all are doing, that is why I am here. It is time for you to find Michael. I was given the word to bring him back out of hiding, him and the others, stay abreast of that goal. As the First Guardians, we watch, we never are allowed to intervene unless to fix the scales of the war; we protect the history and correct it without intervening with free will. We are the gatekeepers; as we play our role, so does the rest of the world as was foreseen. Stay in the background; that is an order. Now, we will speak again, son. Before I go, know that the Cursed are planning a gathering in the coming months. This is our time to train the Oracle and her Sin Eater. Do tell my son and remember, Nox, respect that divine witch. Keep your enemies close and love thy neighbor.”

  With that, the King left Lenox high and dry and confused as hell. Love thy neighbor and stay hidden? “Damn, I hate when he does that.”

  Chapter 8

  Several months later ...

  It was cold. Goosebumps formed on the back of her arms. Sanna Steele shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Chicago, when it was becoming cold, was not fun, especially downtown near the lake. She couldn’t believe he had dropped her out here like this. Told her it was time for a real world experience in training.

  Thinking back, although she had survived her first battle, Khamun had promptly explained that she almost had died, too, which resulted in months of endless butt kicking by everyone in the House, but mainly by Lenox and Khamun with Kyo in tow. Now not only had she been starting from scratch and learning how to be a Slayer and a Mystic the past couple of months, but she had been sitting with younger Nephilim children and latent Nephilims learning about Society. She also had been having private lessons about the oracle principles with Eldress Neffer and practicing the oracle levels. Both she and Kyo felt as if they were in school again. This was not her cup of tea.

  During her studies, it had astounded her that she was hustling and fighting as if the training was second nature to her. Heck, it was according to their teachings about spiritual rebirths. But, this was still unfair. All of the hard crap falling on her shoulders felt stressful, only because this was all new to her. Yes, she had been here before as Khamun’s mother had told her, and San could contest to that fact already.

  However, she also felt it in her blood. It was just interesting to her that this all had come the way it had. Definitely, with the year her life had changed full circle from the sickly girl of her youth to the plus-size chef that old men only wanted. Then later becoming an entity of power and respect who was wanted by a man who happened to be a myth. An angel. It was still crazy to her.

  She bet her old peers in North County wouldn’t recognize her now since this change. She hardly recognized herself now. To say a woman of her size was unhealthy and couldn’t run even a mile in situations of danger made her laugh. She was moving with the best of them and she was proud of herself. Size fourteen was not a hindrance, she was not a hindrance, and she inwardly smiled. Glancing around, she saw her closed restaurant with its construction underway and she felt somewhat at odds. Would she and Kyo be able to return to some of their old lives and do a grand opening? She really hoped so.

  Regardless of the changes, she still was who she was, Sanna Steele: chef, daughter, and sister. Speaking of Kyo, she glanced in the evening sky. The end of the sun setting cast a ruby haze in the distance. She smiled as she felt her god sister shadow her. Something about the life of a Gargoyle seemed to fit Kyo perfectly in her opinion.

  Once everything fell how it did, she felt a good change in her best friend. Her god sis had found the man in her dreams. He was teaching her everything he knew, along with what their parents knew. Custom within the Dragon world dictated that the parents approve their union and oversee it. So, that too was something new for them all to deal with, parents in the compounds and the power they both were coming into.

  Both she and Kyo had sat down to talk privately with each other, testing out their mental linking bond a couple of days ago. As soon as they sat down to talk, Sanna had felt that old familiar pressure and pain in her skull with the onset of what Kyo had seen when she was talking with Ryo during their training several weeks ago. Sanna sat next to her best friend in their white meditating room, watching everything play over in their mind. Sanna was practicing an Oracle bond. Seeing into the mind of her best friend, living in her memories. Kyo had been taking on a Cursed demon with Ryo. Sanna’s mind split open more, as she felt every emotion Kyo was going through while holding a demon over a ledge of a skyscraper questioning it. San could smell the demon’s pungent cooking flesh in the sun while she sat in the vision.

  “Ry, hurry, tell me what or who you are looking for. I . . . I don’t know what I’m doing, but I see everything; hurry!” Kyo urgently demanded.

  San instantly heard Ryo question Kyo about a child, a little boy from California. The more he asked, the wider Kyo’s mind opened and ripped at the mental contours of the demon. The grimy stench of burning flesh tickled at her nostrils, but Kyo kept searching. Scenes of children vanishing across the nation hit her hard. Many Kyo had seen on the news. Some snatched, others sold by humans tainted with darkness, others killed in senseless murders by stray and purposeful bullets.

  In every scene, both Kyo and San could taste, feel, and smell. Screams of the crying children tore at Kyo’s heart. It bore into her mind until she stopped at an image in the demon’s mind that begged for her attention. San and Kyo saw a young boy who looked to be no older than four or five years old. His laughter and innocent playing in a massive garden full of stone dragons kept her attention. Various trees that seemed to belong in Asia, and monks who watched in protection amazed her.

  A statuesque woman with dark brown doe-shaped eyes that framed a regal yet soft walnut-kissed face walked into Kyo’s vision. She kneeled down to hold her arms out to the little boy. The woman’s long, wavy, parted hair, which fell around her breasts, fluttered in the wind. Her full heart-shaped lips displayed a warm, dimpled smile that puckered forward into a motherly kiss against the boy’s face. A cold darkness moved through the bright baby-blue clear skies. Kyo watched as a handsome man with almond-shaped eyes that matched her own with a growing fade haircut stand before her. He was dressed as a monk but also wore a pair of jeans with workmen’s boots. Curiously he also wore a ring that matched the kneeling woman’s ring on her right hand. As if noticing the sa
me darkening skies the monk quickly glanced around the garden, appearing bristled.

  In that same moment, a diverse set of monks surrounded the family and both Kyo and Sanna were in awe. Monks of Asian, African, Caucasian, and Latino descent engulfed the gardens and temples shifting into various martial art warrior forms. Loud battle cries sounded around her as rings from ancient bells chimed around them all. Women dressed in the same attire stood by the rest of the monks with weapons in their hands. She listened to orders being barked out. The father of the young boy demanded both the woman and the child to head into a massive temple that appeared before them.

  Kyo continued to share her vision with Sanna.

  San observed then felt the enemy coming the second that the male flipped into action. His bright saffron-colored robes whipped in the stifling air. He fluidly shifted into “white crane style,” a form Kyo had just learned from her father Poppa Hideo. The untraditional monk’s leanly muscular frame flourished in size. His brown eyes slowly melded into a fiery amber shade. Then plumes of smoke emitted from his lush lips, displaying diamond-sharp Dragon fangs. They watched as he moved into his crane form then shifted upon his feet to stand wide legged. One arm stretched before him palm out in a dragon clutch, the other horizontal, holding a chain blade.

  A battle was coming and both Kyo and Sanna could feel that the enemy wanted the child. Kyo saw the shadow of a looming male standing at the entrance of the temple. Behind him, cars parked in a grassy oval parking lot that surrounded the acres of forest and hills that looked down on a bustling city were crushed like discarded cans all over the place. Demons of every variety stood behind his broad back and a sharp roar ripped from the man’s mouth. Golden-red leather ripped wings stretched wide. They knocked sleeping dragons who had not had a chance to wake up, on the ground, smashing them into pieces, killing them. Sanna could hear Kyo’s cries. Her people were dying.

  Kyo wanted to scream to help but instead gasped in shock, as the monstrous male stepped forward from the darkness. Wavy black shoulder-length hair rested on broad horn-lined muscular shoulders. A crisp black-and -white suit, which appeared to be expensively tailor made from Italy, adorned the male. To the untrained eye, if looking closely, you could see slots that blended into the seams of the suit, to allow wings to slide through them.

  In arrogance, Kyo watched him smile her way. His eyes appeared to bore into her soul. His handsome light butter-brown skin hummed in its menacing beauty. In his powerful allure, Kyo noticed him haughtily rub his ring-adorned large hands together. Kyo stared at the strong features of a man who appeared to resemble Marco. She knew without a doubt that it was the Cursed King, a man she had read about in Winter’s missives. Confusion had Kyo bridled in anger and fear while they watched each other in a silent duel.

  “Tell your Sin Eater that time precedes me. We will meet soon to finish what my daughter started; now move on, pet,” Kyo heard him croon in her mind.

  Sanna heard it as well. Sanna felt Kyo’s emotions at that moment. His dripping voice, edged in toxic sensuality, cut Kyo senseless. It left her with a jarring migraine, with the sensation of warm, trickling blood exiting her nose.

  Kyo battled with the vision, which broke her train of thought. Kyo’s power tethered from her to connect with the monk, who was not a monk, yet he was. It was as if he called for Kyo’s power. Power, her god sister had no idea she held. Kyo obliged to let him use it; use the power of their shared people and connect it to everyone at the temple. Sanna watched Kyo’s soft Shea butter skin relax in a locked state of admiration.

  Sanna felt Kyo being pulled partially from her vision, at the sound of Ryo’s pressing deep voice. “Kyo! Baby, you’re killing him. He’s burning alive.” Sanna could see that the scene before Kyo had made tears of fury fall down her plush cheeks.

  Demons tore into the dragon monks. Everyone was falling to his or her deaths defending the temple, a place Darkness should not have had access to. Kyo watched as they took the little boy, whose sweet features made her spirit smile before the scene shifted yet again. No more was that sweet boy ; now appearing before her hidden in dark shadows was a chilling demon. His once-brown almond eyes were dark with occasional flashes of ruby red and now held a cold, sinister feel to his once-innocent, warm spirit. The child was tainted. Twisted. Taken by the Mad King and everyone had died in that temple by the evil bastard’s hands.

  Anger made Kyo claw her nails into the demon before her, who had been at the scene of that atrocity. At that moment, Kyo set the demon in her hands ablaze, watching him fall from the high-rise building in nothing but dust. Sweat coated her tanned skin. Her flyaway hair matted against her face caused her to wipe at her nose and take several deep breaths. Her mismatched jade and hazel eyes stayed locked on the broad cord-tight back of her fiancé in awareness.

  “You’re not the key are you?” Kyo quietly asked.

  “No. The child is,” Ryo replied. His eyes stayed focused on the sun slowly setting over the Chicago skyline. Flecks of red mixing with orange kissed and painted a beautiful view before them.

  Sanna broke from the vision in astonishment. All of this time, everyone had been finding ways to find the second book, when it—no, he—was in their hands. Ryo wasn’t the key, he was the book in the flesh! The child was the key. Sanna sat speechless, studying her god sister.

  Kyo held her hand to listen to Ryo’s explanation in their shared mind: “Every extended generation the Dragons of my family are chosen to absorb the power and knowledge of the book. During the first war, we knew it would be hunted, so we found a way with our Mystics to protect the book and create a decoy book. Only my family knows and the Keys don’t find out until maturity. Kyo, I am his and Khauman’s Protector, but I am . . . the book. They’ll come for me again when they realize they don’t have the real book. We need to get him back from the Dark, baby, we have to, or our people, Nephilims, will die.”

  Sanna was mind blown in her mental calculations. The fact that the Mad King could sense them and had stepped into Kyo’s vision had scared them both deeply. The intel was correct; a genocide was happening all over the world. After the information Kyo had shared, Sanna felt her mind open again like a satellite. This allowed her to connect with the fading beat of humans and Nephilims around the globe and Sanna heard their cries. More like felt it.

  Her vision filtered to show her Calvin and Marco in St. Louis fighting the Cursed. The fellas had stopped a man from shooting his pregnant wife and child. The man had wanted to erase his wife from reality to be with another woman, a woman who had tainted him with her Cursed bite, resulting in the man going home almost killing his wife and their one-year-old son. In her shifting revelations, she saw that child with the haunting eyes from California again, the temple, and the fallen monks; then it shifted out of the US.

  She saw military soldiers battling for their lives outside of embassies and many people flooding the streets crying out for vengeance and help. Within those people who screamed for respect were demons that used the pain of some and turned innocent protests into raging mobs. Each Cursed demon used their power to twist the advocacy of innocent humans—and even some bitten Nephilim—words and tainting some humans who held corruption in their hearts into instigating a crazed hate, which spread to various nations. Those same humans spread the corruption to a few defending soldiers, soldiers whose fears became erratic. Everything resulted in bullets hitting innocents, then those corrupted innocent humans returned the favor by using grenades against them. The Mad King’s presence was over it all. A war he had created, which Sanna felt it all in her dream state. She tried to stop it but couldn’t.

  In a blaze of smoky fog and blood, a robed man in sandals with a mane of shoulder-length thick, corded locks came to her dreams again, speaking to her and comforting her. Sadness moistened his dark oak-colored eyes. His aura rang divine, indicating that she was speaking to whom the Nephilim called the One son. He explained that she needed what was embedded in his hands. Bleeding hands that he held out
to her in urgency.

  Two fleshy holes rested in the palms of his hands; within the wounds lay nails. He told her she needed to balance the war, to save the innocents and Nephilim of the world. Sanna listened with her heart open, kneeling before him, her curly mane now covered in a black shroud. Before her eyes, he changed. He was no longer the iconic savior: the one and only human Sin Eater. Now he was many iconic figures, spiritual teachers, and leader’s everyone around the world believed in before his thumb rested against her third eye.

  Immaculate power caused her blood to sing as he whispered, “He used my blood to create children in his own malevolent image.”

  The flash of a young girl with large light brown eyes made her gasp. Her face hovered over her own and that sweet little girl’s sudden tears spilled down her face turning into blood. Her rich cocoa skin began to split and harden to many scales before a reptilian clicking noise surrounded her and she melted away. The image of Marco as a young boy and the Dark Lady playing tag with daggers in each hand around San made her spin around on her heels then reach out for the child.

  Sanna was confused and scared to put the pieces together at the One Teacher’s words: “He seeks to find it again through the books, but Gabriel, then his sister, the chosen first Reaper, took it and they have it hidden well. You, my chosen first protectors, reborn in this life to defend the modern world will be successful in this needed change.

  “Find what I showed you, continue to keep the books from his grasp, and keep my blood from his touch. You and my brother have always been Father’s favorite as you are mine. The mouthpiece and His weapon, you both and your family make us proud. Continue to learn and stop what you can. The end is nigh, but it does not have to mean destruction of the Light. Ashe, sister, daughter. Mother of All. Ashe.” The image of Khamun’s loving eyes filled her then the sound of dragons and her family fighting rang in her ears as she woke up from her vision.