by Sadie Waters
He tried again, and she said that was better but then asked him to throw a few punches at her so she could show him. “I’m not going to punch you, Em.”
“I know you’re not. But you can try.”
“No, seriously. What if I hit you?”
“You won’t.”
“I might.”
“You definitely won’t hit me.”
With a deep breath, Zach took a swing at her, not attempting to actually hit her, but the back of her wrist connected with his fist, knocking his arm aside before he got anywhere near her head. A little frustrated, Zach swung again, a little faster that time. Again, Ember blocked it and knocked his arm away. No longer holding back, Zach swung at her head, and Ember not only blocked him but shifted his momentum so that he ended up on the grass on his ass.
“Oomph!” His butt bone hurt, but his pride hurt a little more. Zach shook his head and pulled himself up off of the ground.
“Don’t feel bad about that, dude. I’m a freakin’ superhuman.”
At least she’d given him something to laugh at. “All right. Now what?”
“Now, I’m going to swing at your head again, and you’re going to do your damnedest to knock me on my ass. Got it?”
“I got it.”
Ember swung at him again, and this time, when Zach blocked her, he did it with gusto. “Nice,” Ember said, and with each punch she threw, the faster and stronger Zach felt. It was almost as if he was channeling some sort of superpower himself He wasn’t sure if that was possible, but he felt good about it.
After an hour or so, he didn’t even feel tired. Ember moved to blocking and throwing kicks, roundhouses, and all sorts of moves Zach would’ve never thought he was capable of. While he wasn’t able to match her strength or speed, he was getting better all the time. He was so engrossed in what they were doing, he hadn’t even noticed they’d drawn a crowd until Ember said, “All right. Let’s take a break, eat some lunch, and then we’ll come back out and practice with weapons.”
Zach’s eyebrows went up. “Weapons?”
“Yeah. We’ll start with knives and swords and then move on to guns.” She was headed over to pick up her jacket, but Zach followed behind her.
“Uh, I’m not really comfortable with firing a weapon.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to fire it today if you don’t want to. We have a range beneath St. Paul’s where we practice.”
So many questions came to mind, he wasn’t sure where to start. “How… how do you have a gun range under a church?”
She shrugged. “It’s been there since the gun was invented. It’s so far underground, it’s always been difficult to hear the guns, but it’s soundproof now. Besides, it’s NYC. There’s always gunfire from everywhere.”
“But… it’s a church.”
“And?”
“And you think guns and church go together.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh. This is one of those arguments.”
“What arguments?” Zach was offended. He followed her over to where some of the other guests were sitting or standing on the porch. Ryan and Jake were there, as well as a few other people he’d seen but not met. He followed her up the stairs.
“One of those anti-gun arguments,” Ember said over her shoulder.
“Sort of. I mean, I don’t like guns. Guns kill people.”
“People kill people,” one of the men they were passing tossed out.
“With guns,” Zach clarified, following Ember inside and toward the kitchen. “I believe guns are a problem in this country.”
“Okay, Zach. I”m not asking you to kill people, though. I’m asking you to kill demons.”
“With a gun.”
She spun around and faced him, and he stopped, causing the others who were behind them to stop as well. “Zach, I need to make sure that you’re capable of defending yourself, no matter what the situation is. So, yeah, you’re going to have to show me you can shoot a gun well enough to knock something on its ass, even if you can’t kill it or send it to hell. If you’re not comfortable with that, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing unholy or sinful or even dangerous to the human race about us using guns to fight evil. So… get used to the idea because it’s happening.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then you’d better get used to living out here in the middle of nowhere because I’m not taking you back until I’m sure you’re not gonna end up dead the second you step off of Holy Ground or I leave you alone for five minutes.”
Shaking his head, Zach said, “God, you’re stubborn.”
Ember was walking again, and he followed her. Without turning around, she said, “Hi Pot. It’s me, Kettle. You’re black.”
Zach growled under his breath and let her go. Jake’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Sorry, man. You may as well wrap your mind around it, because it’s going to happen.”
Jake and Ryan moved on, and Zach stepped out of the way so the others could get through. He knew they were right. Ember was the boss, and there was sense in trying to get around what she said. As much as he hated guns, at least he wouldn’t be shooting people. He wouldn’t be shooting anyone at all if he had any say about it, but that wouldn’t preclude him from showing her he knew how to use one.
His stomach rumbled and he decided he may as well follow them into the kitchen for something to eat. If he was going to be productive after lunch, he’d need to refuel. He thought he’d impressed her with his performance so far that day, and he didn’t want to spoil it by making her mad, but it seemed that he was getting pretty good at that, too. At least she was pretty when she was mad.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The feel of the gun in his hand was as awkward and clumsy as the first time he’d tried to grab a girl’s boob on a date. While he was pretty sure he was doing it right, it didn’t feel natural or anything at all like he’d expected.
Ember stepped over to adjust his grip, not at all gloating that she’d managed to get her way, and Zach had a gun in his hand, despite his protests. “Move this finger here, and this one slightly…. There you go.” Satisfied, she took a step back and folded her arms.
“Should I close one eye?” he asked, studying the target one of the other team members had constructed against some trees that hopefully backed into nothing but open fields.
“If it helps,” Ember said with a shrug.
Zach tried closing one eye, but he wasn’t sure it helped at all. Knowing he could stand there all day and do nothing or just squeeze the trigger already, he fired.
The gun had more of a kick than he expected, and he almost fell backward, sending the nose of the gun up into the air, and firing the bullet well away from the target.
“And that’s why this is a stupid idea,” Carson said, turning around and walking back toward the house.
Zach wished he could aim the gun at him--but he didn’t.
“Now you know the kick. Try again,” Ember said, getting him back into position. The feel of her hands on him, even through his clothes, had him distracted, and he had to take a few deep breaths to steady himself, breaths that had nothing to do with the possibility he would embarrass himself in front of a crowd of onlookers again.
When she was sure he was ready, she stepped away, but he could still smell her perfume. A mix of vanilla and flowers of some variety that made him really like flowers. Wiping his mind as clean as possible, he focused on the target and pulled the trigger.
This time, he expected the kick and didn’t lose his balance. The bullet hit the target, but not on the outline of the person. Still, it was better than he’d expected. It was even better that Ember was cheering.
“Awesome shot! Try it again.”
Zach took aim once more and managed to hit the outline in what would be the shoulder. Without waiting for her to tell him to, he fired off a few more rounds. With each shot, his aim was better so that by the sixth or seventh shot, his opponent would’ve been dead--had it been human. He realized these type of bullets didn’t ki
ll demons, but it was better than nothing. Maybe they’d give him some of their special blend once he passed whatever test this might be. Ember looked pleased with his progress, and after a few more rounds she signaled for him to stop.
“Great job, Zach. Let’s call it a day, shall we?”
“Sounds good to me.” He handed the gun back, and she flipped the safety on before she put it back in her holster. “Now what?”
“Now, we get some rest, probably listen to some crazy stories, and then see what tomorrow brings.”
“Are you going to train me some more before you take me home?” he asked, not sure what he wanted the answer to be.
“Probably so. I have no idea what Lane’s involvement is in this, but I don’t trust him. He might be coming for you, and if that’s the case, you’ve got to be ready. Because I’m not about to lose you to him.”
“Because I’m an all-powerful Seer?” Zach asked, sucking in a deep breath.
“No, because you’re mine,” she replied with a shrug and a glint in her eyes he couldn’t quite read.
Zach followed her back to Abby’s house, not sure whether he should be flattered or scared, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the sound of Ember saying he was hers.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ember sat staring out the window as the sun went down, sipping a cup of coffee and trying to decide what her next move should be. In an adjoining room, she heard conversation she couldn’t distinguish, peppered by laughter and thigh slapping and knew one of Abby’s friends was telling a great story. She wasn’t in the mood, though. Whatever was brewing, she knew it wasn’t good, nor was it like anything they’d ever faced before. How could she make sure Zach and the others were ready for something when she had no idea what that something might be?
The sound of footsteps behind her brought a soft smile to her face before she turned her head because she recognized Ryan’s presence even before she saw him. He sat down next to her, taking her hand gently in his. “How are you?”
“Ugh,” was about all she could say. He laughed, understanding completely. “What are they talking about in there?”
“Battle of Reevis Pass,” he said, his handsome face taking on a serious expression. “You were there, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was.” She remembered that battle well, considering all of the thousands she’d participated in. “Almost bit it that day, but I managed to survive. Were you there?”
He nodded. “Yes, but I was still with Hester at the time. She got hit early on, was losing a lot of blood. I had to carry her off the field.”
It had been a long time since Scales and Sorchas had faced off in an epic battle like that one, facing each other across a battlefield. In some ways, it was easier than what they did now ,searching for each other amongst the densely populated humans. “Where’s Hester at these days?” she asked, trying to be nonchalant. She’d never cared for the other Xana. She was bossy and rude--sort of like Lane in female form.
“Last I heard, she was about twelve years old, living in the Midwest,” Ryan replied, clearly not too thrilled with the woman himself
“Good. Maybe if I die in the midst of all of this mess, you’ll have someone else’s team to join until I’m back.”
Ryan snickered and shook his head. “I’m not letting you die, not unless she kills me first.”
Ember smiled at him, knowing he meant it. “And what if it’s Lane that takes me out?”
“That’s not gonna happen. I have no problems killing him if he so much as raises a finger at you.”
“Lane’s a receptor, though, Ryan. If you killed him, there’d likely be a punishment involved for you, one that would take centuries to serve.” She thought about him not reincarnating for all of that time, sort of like serving time in a penalty box during a hockey match.
“You’re a receptor, too, though, so Lane would also be out of the picture for a long time.” He adjusted in his seat. They both knew it was silly to talk about the consequences of killing their own kind. It was so rare that if it ever happened, it was hard to know what the consequences might be. Yet, under the present circumstances, Ember would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about just taking Lane out of the picture altogether.
“I wish we could get Ruby away from him. She’d talk if she didn’t depend on him.” Ember had been contemplating a way to get her friend free from the Ink, but there seemed like no way to do it.
“If there was another team she could join, she might leave him.”
“It would have to be someone in New York. She wouldn’t leave the city unless she had no choice.”
“Maybe Dr. Ford knows of someone.”
“Maybe.” Ember took a deep breath followed by a sip of her coffee. “What do you think Lane was looking for in our apartment?”
“I’m not sure, but if it wasn’t Zach, and it didn’t appear to be because he knew he wasn’t in any of your boxes, I’d say… the sword.”
Her eyes enlarged. Every Sorcha knew what she’d gone through to get that sword. If Lane thought he could just waltz into her apartment and take it, he had another thing coming. “Why would he want that? And why now of all reasons?”
“I don’t know. But until we do, Zach’s not going to be safe, and neither are the rest of us. Not even among our own kind.”
He was right--and she hated it. “We’ve got to figure out a way to get Ruby to talk.”
Ryan nodded in agreement, and Ember turned her attention back out the window. Getting Ruby to leave Lane would be as difficult as getting any woman to leave an abusive relationship--almost impossible for reasons Ember couldn’t understand. But she had to figure it out because, as much as she hated the way Lane treated her friend, she knew it was Ruby’s choice and had left her alone until now, when lives depended on it. Since hers was potentially one of the lives that was in the balance, as well as the rest of her team, Ember would have to come up with a way to get Ruby to tell her everything she knew about Lane’s snooping. Everything. Before it was too late.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Zach woke up in a cold sweat, his eyes wandering around the room for a moment as he tried to remember where he was, or where he should be. He saw Jake’s sleeping form on the bed next to him, his own struggles clearly disturbing the Ink, but not enough to wake him. That’s right--he was at Abby’s--and Jake was with him because Ryan was next door with Ember.
Running a hand through his hair and flicking sweat all over the place, Zach got out of bed. It had taken him forever to fall asleep, and then, once he’d finally gotten there, he’d had a string of horrible dreams, all of them about dying, and some of them about being locked up. In one of them, he couldn't hear or see anything but darkness and void. He’d had no idea where he was or how he could get out. That one had been the one to break the camel’s back and send him flying back to reality.
He slipped into his robe and meandered down the hallway, past Ryan and Ember’s door. Thank goodness Ryan had been aware of how badly the noises had bothered Zach the night before, so he’d done his best to stay quiet. Zach had ended up putting in some earplugs Abby had given him earlier in the day, but even with the quiet, he hadn’t been able to sleep. Now, it was three o’clock in the morning, and he had no idea why he was headed to the kitchen.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
The sound of Carson’s voice but no body that he could see anywhere made Zach almost pee his pants. He realized the Ink was standing in the shadows next to the refrigerator, so he hadn’t lost his ability to see him. Carson did seem to materialize next to the appliance, though, and it was eerie thinking about how it must be for everyone else who couldn’t see him. It wasn’t clear what he was sipping, but it wasn't milk, which was what Zach had had in mind.
If he’d known Carson was out here, he would’ve never come. There hadn’t been a decent moment between the two of them since they’d met. Zach felt as if he’d tried to be kind to the other man, but nothing he said or did seemed to mak
e Carson like him one bit.
But here they were, all alone, in the middle of the night, and Zach could hardly turn around and walk away. He opened the refrigerator and found the milk then snatched a glass out of the cabinet and headed to the microwave.
“What the hell are you doing?” Carson asked. “You have to heat that on the stove.”
“Why is that?”
“Seriously, what are you? Some sort of savage? Give that to me.” Carson took the glass of milk away from Zach and found a saucepan. He went about heating the milk up as Zach watched, dumbfounded.
“You’re very particular about how other people enjoy their beverages,” Zach noted.
“Well, if you want to enjoy it, you’ve got to do it right. There are no shortcuts in this life, man.”
Zach was quiet for a moment, wondering if this was a moment he could take advantage of to try to bond with the ice-cold Ink. “Why are you up?”
“I’m worried about Ember,” he said, and it was apparent he meant it. “You?”
“Bad dreams.”
“Oh yeah?” He finished stirring the milk, decided it was warm enough, and poured it into Zach’s glass.
“Thanks…. Yeah, I guess listening to all of those battle stories earlier got to me. I kept getting murdered. Then… I couldn’t see or hear anything, and I was trapped. It was awful.”
Carson studied him for a second, as if he had something on his mind. Zach sipped the milk. He was right--it was better this way.
“You sure those were dreams?” the Blender asked, picking his mug up off of the counter.
“What are you talking about? I sure the hell wasn’t awake,” Zach replied.
“No, I know that. But… could they have been memories?”
“Memories? Not unless my parents were meaner than I thought, and I’ve been suppressing the better part of my childhood.”
With a snicker, Carson said, “From former lives, dumbass. If you are a Seer, chances are, this is not your first time around this pinwheel.”