“I didn’t know.” Nash sounded uninterested.
“I’m not a witch,” I said.
“Yeah, you are. That could come in handy,” said Adrianna. “What other incantations do you know?”
A chill shot up my spine, and my skin went pale. Did I throw myself from the car when I could have saved my parents?
“Stop it,” said Nash. “She has enough on her plate.”
“But I’m right, aren’t I?” said Adrianna. “You drank demon blood.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Maybe your mother or father fed you demon blood when you were little,” Adrianna suggested.
“I never drank demon blood,” I said. “My birth parents abandoned me in an old house. I don’t know anything about them.”
Nash’s eyes focused on the ground.
Great, I embarrassed him with my pity story.
“That would explain it,” said Adrianna. “Lucifer hates witches. She probably sent a demon after your mom and dad. So, they ran.”
“She isn’t a witch,” said Kiran. “Witches know what they are.”
“Well, I’ve never seen anyone do that who wasn’t a witch,” said Adrianna.
“I don’t care what she is,” said Chandra. “Do that again, and I’ll have your head.”
I awoke in pain like someone broke a guitar over my back. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. A bruise purpled below my eye. Several spotted my arms and legs. I lifted my shirt to uncover one the size of a grapefruit on my side.
I had a lot to learn, but there had to be better ways than trying to beat it into me. I wondered how long it had been since Nash trained anyone new.
My body was so sore. I ambled to the kitchen. Nash stood at the stove. The air smelled like French toast, sweet and syrupy.
“How do you feel?” He didn’t look up from his cooking.
“Like hell,” I said. “No pun intended.”
Nash smirked. “You’re not going to feel any better tomorrow. I’m giving you a weapons demonstration this afternoon. I don’t expect you to spar with anyone, but I do expect you to at least try to wield a sword.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groaned. “A sword?” My shoulders ached. I could barely lift my shirt over my head.
I sat at the table, and Nash put a plate of French toast in front of me. I grabbed my fork as he sat down across from me with his toast and coffee.
“Adrianna likes you,” he said.
“She’s the only one,” I said. “Chandra treats me like I killed her dog.”
Nash laughed. “Chandra’s like that. She’ll come around.”
“I thought you were going to let her kill me yesterday.”
“Believe me,” he said. “She went easy on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “She was going about as easy as a boxer goes on a dummy.”
“You need this. Once they know what you are, Archangels won’t hesitate to kill you, and that fight won’t be a ten-minute boxing match.”
I cringed at the matter-of-fact way he said that.
“After breakfast, I have something that I want to show you,” he said.
I finished breakfast and followed Nash to a door at the far end of the hall. I saw that door when I searched for the kitchen on my first day. Inside was a set of stairs that led down to a well-lit room.
I didn’t realize the house had a basement.
At the bottom of the stairs was a floor to ceiling vault. The vault was made of a metal that I never saw before. The metallic surface shimmered in the light like flecks of glitter were embedded in the steel.
Nash pulled on the large handle and opened the door. Upon the metal walls hung swords, daggers, maces, shields, spears, and bows of various shades of silver. Arm bracers, leg guards, and gloves covered in silver at the knuckles dangled from the opposite wall. Silver tipped arrows crowded narrow cylindrical containers on the floor. Like the metal of the vault, these weapons had the same shimmer.
In the center of the armory was a long table.
“What is all this?” I asked.
“These are the weapons we will use to fight the angels.”
Nash took a dagger from the wall. “Arcadian Steel,” he said. “The brighter the blade, the less alloy it contains, the purer the steel.”
“Will we need this many?”
“We might need more.”
“But why do you keep the door unlocked?” I asked.
When he brought me to Sheol, Bob walked right into Nash’s home without a key.
“People don’t steal in the Outer Region,” said Nash. “No reason to. They have everything they want even if it’s all superficial.”
“What’s the Outer Region?”
“Where we are now,” said Nash. “Sheol is like a giant radiating disk. On the outskirts is the Outer Region. That’s where I and a few more privileged souls live, if you can call anyone in Hell privileged, but beyond the Outer Region are the nine Circles. People are tortured in the Circles.”
“Tortured. That’s horrible.”
“That’s Hell.”
Silence hung between us. What had Nash done to deserve to be in Hell? He seemed nice enough, a bit controlling and dismissive at times, but not a bad guy.
I couldn’t trust anything I thought I knew. An angel, one of the good guys, killed the only family I ever had, and demons, the supposed bad guys, were helping me. Nothing made any sense.
“But if we finish this, you won’t have to worry about that.” Nash placed the dagger back on the wall.
“Will I be able to use one of these?” I asked.
“You will, when you’re ready.”
I sighed. I didn’t think I’d ever be.
“I need to talk to Tom,” said Nash. “You can come along.”
“What do you need to talk about?” I asked.
“Demon probation officer business.” Nash smirked. Nice to see he had a little bit of a sense of humor. It wasn’t healthy to be brooding all the time. “Just because Lucifer wants us to hunt angels doesn’t mean she wants us to stop tracking demons.”
Nash led the way upstairs.
“But wouldn’t doing both wear you out?” I asked.
“I don’t think the Devil cares about my comfort or anybody’s for that matter.” The hall led to the foyer. Nash continued up the main staircase to the second floor.
“There’s still one thing I don’t understand,” I said.
“What’s that?” asked Nash.
“I’m the way I am because of a spell, right? If Raphael wanted to use someone like me to close the gates, why doesn’t he just have a witch perform the spell on someone more…agreeable to his goal? The world’s full of crazy people who blow up buildings and shoot up schools. I’m sure he could find someone crazy enough to want to keep Heaven pure.”
Nash and I reached the top of the stairs, and he took the next flight to the third floor. “The spell is very risky,” he said. “It’s complicated to perform, and if done incorrectly, it could result in death. Unfortunately, the ritual can only be done on mortals.”
“So, when my mother did the spell on me, she could have killed me?”
“Possibly.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence. My birth mom not only sold my soul to the Devil but also attempted a spell that could have killed me. I had never known her, but the thought hurt me. How could a mother do that to her child?
A loft on the third floor opened to the library. From behind a thin metal railing, I gazed down at the books lining the shelves. As we continued down the hallway, the library was hidden behind the walls.
Nash stopped outside one of the rooms and opened the door. The room was windowless but recessed light brightened the area. Like every other room in Nash’s house, the walls were white, and the floor was alabaster marble. Against one wall was a desk with a computer and a low-backed chair. In the chair sat Tom. He crunched down on a handful of potato chips and rubbed his hand on
his jeans.
On the computer screen was a blue map of Earth. The map showed orange pulses in several different locations. Some pulses moved more rapidly than others.
“Do we know which one we’ll hit next?” asked Nash.
Tom whirled around in his chair. He didn’t seem surprised when Nash snuck up on him. I guess he did that often.
“There’s one here.” Tom pointed to a tiny pulse around what I guessed to be France. “I’m scoping it out tonight. If it’s not a Gorgon or a Succubus, you can go after it as early as tomorrow evening. I think it’s a Jikininki.”
“A what?” I asked.
“A demon who eats corpses.” Tom swiveled side to side in his chair. “They like to hang out around graveyards by extension. I think I remember there being a graveyard somewhere in that area and a café that serves the best croissants. Good late-night demon-watching food.”
“Let me know what it is,” said Nash. He walked out of the room.
Tom looked at the screen.
“A computer?” I asked. “You wouldn’t mind if I checked my email.”
“No. It’s called a Beamer. It detects demonic activity.”
“How?”
“Do you know what a Seismometer is?”
“Sure. It measures seismic waves to find earthquakes.”
“By measuring the motion of the ground. This works in a similar way,” said Tom. “It’s connected to Phoners that measure demonic presence. You see, fallen angels and demons give off subtle, but unique vibrations that can’t be picked up by human instruments. We get a read, and I go to investigate the source, P.I. style. I stay awhile to determine what type of demon we’re dealing with. That way, Nash and the others can be ready.”
Tom turned and squinted at me. “How can you see us?”
“With my eyes,” I said slowly.
Tom frowned. “If every human could see us when we don’t want them to, a lot more people would believe in angels and demons.”
“I know,” I said. “Truth is, I’m not sure why I can see them. I’ve been seeing them for as long as I can remember. I realized other people can’t, so I just hide it. Chills run down my back every time I think of the demons I ignored lurking in the corners. But it’s not the demons I should’ve been fearing, it was the angels.”
“You should fear the demons too.” Tom turned back to his screen.
THAT afternoon, as I walked down the stairs to grab something to eat before training started, the front door opened.
Adrianna’s blond waves were tied back in a sleek ponytail. She was dressed in dark tights and a tank top. “I’m so glad you lived through it.”
At first, I thought she might be making fun of me, but her relief seemed genuine. “Chandra’s tough,” I said, “but, I’ll live. I have some bruises that’s all.”
“I’m sorry.” Adrianna set her teeth. “I’m not used to being around humans anymore. I always think they’re so delicate.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you now?”
“A Succubus.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I used to seduce men into contracts with the Devil.”
Everything about Adrianna looked human, so hearing her say this made me feel like this whole thing was some big setup, and Felicia would pop out at any moment and say gotcha, but this would be far too sophisticated for her to come up with.
“Adrianna,” I said, “I wanted to talk to you about something you said yesterday when I shoved Chandra.”
“You mean when you mentally force-pushed Chandra.”
“Yeah, that. You called me a witch.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you. I know humans used to have a major problem with witches, but I thought since you are one, you wouldn't find it offensive.”
“I don’t actually. You see, that happened when my parents…”
“I have a few weapons laid out.” Nash’s voice boomed from the stairs.
Nash headed down the stairs with Tom as the front door opened. Kiran and Chandra stood in the front entrance. Kiran held a long sword strapped to his waist.
We walked out onto the field, and Nash picked up a sword from the long table outside. “I want to give Lia a demonstration.”
“I’ll spar with you,” said Kiran. “That should give her a proper demonstration.”
“No, thanks,” said Nash. “I doubt a proper demonstration amounts to you knocking me on my ass in three minutes.”
“Two,” said Kiran with a smile on his face.
“Tom.” Nash tossed Tom the sword.
He caught the hilt in mid-air and walked out to the center of the yard.
They held out their swords in front of them.
“One, two, three,” Nash counted. He swung his sword, and Tom’s blade met his. Tom lunged at Nash, but Nash stepped aside. Nash defended himself against a rain of blows. He let Tom tire himself out.
Nash’s blade sped along Tom’s, knocking it from his hands and launching the blade to the ground. Nash removed a dagger from his side and pointed it at Tom’s neck.
“I didn’t know we could carry a secondary,” said Tom. “You don’t fight fair, Nash.”
“I live in Hell.” Nash smirked.
“Alright,” said Tom. “Best two out of three, but drop the dagger.”
Nash tossed the dagger to the ground.
Tom picked up his sword. He challenged Nash with a storm of blows, but Nash defended against every one of them. Tom battered Nash’s knuckles with the flat of his sword. Nash dropped his sword, and Tom, with the point of his blade, flipped Nash’s sword into the air.
The sword flew several feet away.
“Oh, is that how we’re going to play it,” said Nash.
Before Tom could land his blow, Nash dodged it, grabbed Tom’s wrist, and twisted. Tom dropped his sword, and Nash plucked it from the ground and tossed the blade to join his.
Tom shrugged, dropped his shoulders and put up his fists. He jabbed, and Nash dodged, returning the punch as Tom ducked.
They continued to jab and punch, dodging each other’s blows with expert fluidity until Nash backed up and said, “Run for your sword.”
He took off down the field, but as Nash reached for his blade, his own dagger was across his neck.
“When did you scoop that up?” Nash asked.
“Right before you ran down the field.” Tom released him.
“I’d better take that.” Kiran stepped forward and offered his hand.
Tom gave Kiran the dagger.
“Alright then, last one.” Nash handed Tom his sword and picked up his own.
Sparks of light came off the blades as they met.
The swords danced. Nash and Tom’s movements were fluid and natural as if the weapons were mere extensions of themselves.
After several minutes, I didn’t think the dance would ever end, but Nash’s blade swept along Tom’s, and Nash made a circular motion. Tom’s blade was caught as if in a funnel. The sword flew from Tom’s hand and into the air. Nash caught the hilt and pointed both swords at Tom’s chest.
That was rock n’ roll. No way I’d ever learn to fight like that.
After they fought, I tried wielding a sword with Nash’s instruction. He let me swing into the air a few times and tried to teach me form. Chandra snickered the whole time. I really wished I could have practiced on my own first.
Nash gave Tom, Adrianna, Kiran, and Chandra time to practice together. He sat beside me while the others fought. A thin sheen of sweat painted his brow.
“No offense,” I said. “But why use swords? Guns exist, you know.”
“Yeah.” Nash wiped his forehead with a clean, white towel. “But guns run out of bullets.”
I narrowed my eyes. Couldn’t Lucifer give us all the bullets we needed?
“You see,” he said, “Arcadian Steel is a very special metal: No metal found on Earth or in Sheol could pierce an angel’s body. Arcadian Steel is a heavenly metal, and it’s difficult to forge. We have a very
limited supply down here. Waylon would hate if we carelessly embedded bullets into angels, only to have them fly away with the precious metal. We do have guns, but we try to limit their use to emergency situations.”
“Who’s Waylon?” I asked.
“He’s the blacksmith. Only one around who knows how to forge Arcadian Steel.”
“But how do you have Arcadian Steel down here if it only comes from Heaven. I mean, they didn’t let you walk right in and take it, right?”
“The Steel we have was taken in the Fall. When the rebel angels fought, when Sheol was created.”
“Oh,” I said. “You mean when the angels rebelled against God?”
Nash pressed his lips together. His eyes were hard.
“But I thought nothing could kill an angel,” I said.
“Well, that’s mostly true, but Arcadian Steel can slow them down a lot. Angels can still feel pain. They can lose limbs. Of course, they regenerate within a few months.”
“What if you cut off their heads?” That seemed to work with zombies and vampires.
“You won’t be cutting off angels’ heads,” said Nash. “I’ve never known of anyone who has, and I’m not sure that would work anyway. But that doesn’t matter, once they fall, they’ll be down here.”
“That’ll be awkward.”
“Lucifer has a special place for them.”
The sweat on my skin cooled, and goose bumps speckled my arms.
EIGHT
OVER the next few weeks, I practiced sword fighting with Nash and Tom, hand to hand combat with Chandra, and grappling with Adrianna. Kiran gave me advice when it came to sword fighting, and I was grateful that I never had to practice with him. I got enough bumps and bruises from the others.
At the end of each week, Nash treated us to a nice fancy dinner. Everyone dressed up except me and Tom, but he at least tried to look presentable in his rumpled suit jacket.
One afternoon, Nash drove me into town. He drove slower than he had the first time and glanced over at me a few times.
My face warmed whenever I felt his eyes on me.
I didn’t know where we were going, but I didn’t care. I was happy I didn’t have to train today.
Nash turned onto a wide, dirt road. It was strange seeing it among the perfect angular buildings and clean streets. But as the road continued, I couldn’t see the town beyond the leafless trees.
The Wings of Heaven and Hell (The Arcadian Steel Sequence Book 1) Page 8