by R. J. Blain
Everyone had the bombs, and one nation launching a nuclear strike would end the world, which no one wanted. I had always wondered why they kept the devices, but I hadn’t been brave enough to ask.
Knowledge was dangerous, and questioning the way things were done was a good way to draw unwanted attention.
“I follow, I think.”
Rob smiled at me, but it was such a sad expression I held my breath, wondering what had caused him such anguish. “Do you remember the language I spoke to you when I first saw you in your apartment?”
I did. “It was beautiful.”
He had been beautiful, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it out loud. I loved how the years had slipped away from him, leaving him mature yet playful, but I had liked him older, too.
“It was a language spoken on Earth, once upon a time. Time moves differently through the portals I take. Sometimes, if someone takes a wrong step, they can end up in the right place but at the wrong time. When I first saw you, you reminded me of an older time. I didn’t realize you spoke English until you said something.”
“Oh. What language was it?”
“Ironically, Hebrew—a very old form of Hebrew. Too old for even modern speakers to understand, but I wasn’t thinking too clearly at the time. Portal hopping is tiring and disorienting.”
“The same language as was written on that gold and white book in the vault?”
“The same.”
Just how old was Rob? Grateful for a change of subject and intrigued by him, I kept flipping through the Bible, marveling at the number of notes written in the pages. “Okay, so you’re a little older than I initially thought. I know you’re not human; you have a highly specialized and intangible diet. You seem to believe refrigerators are the height of travel, and you have a twisted sense of justice. Anything else I should know?”
“A lot of dae aren’t nearly as nice as either me or Colby.”
“I figured that one out all on my own, Rob. Tell me something I don’t know. Why did you all show up one morning?”
“This is where it gets complicated.”
“I have time.”
“You won’t like what I have to say.”
I arched a brow, planted my elbow on the counter, and rested my chin in my hand. “Stop the verbal dancing, Rob. I’m ready for my introduction to dae magic. You’ll find I’m an attentive student who asks smart questions.”
“You have a smart mouth.”
“Biologically, you’re approximately what I expect from a human man, although I have my suspicions you may be slightly more robust and energetic in certain areas. Unfortunately, I don’t have the experience to make a definitive judgment. So, you look like a human, you eat plenty of human foods, you talk like a human, and you act like a human. Why aren’t you a human?”
“I eat because I enjoy it, not because I need to, for starters. I’ve already told you my real sustenance is acquired through pleasure and other positive emotions. Yours, to be specific.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “How many others can you use as a food source?”
While it was subtle, Rob tensed, and his expression soured. “I haven’t exactly done extensive studying on it. A little here, a little there—enough to survive.”
“You look younger than you did before.”
“You’ve had a lot to do with that.”
Over the months, I had had a lot of suspicions about my dae lover, but I hadn’t had the courage to speak my mind. “Because you’re not running around half starved any more. Am I right? You weren’t actually eating enough, were you?”
“You don’t pull your punches, do you?”
“Does talking about it make you uncomfortable?”
Rob sighed. “Well, there’s no helping it, I guess. Yes, you’re correct. I’ve always been attuned to positive emotional energy, but the amount I could absorb from others has been minimal at best.”
“Until you met me.”
“Until I met you,” he confirmed. “Yes, my physical age manifestation is directly connected to the fact I have more basic energy to work with. The happier you are when I’m around you, the better off I am. So, understandably, it’s in my best interests to keep you content. Fortunately for me, you’re an interesting, vibrant woman, so I enjoy being with you. In that regard, I’m no different from a bonded dae, except you’re an unawakened.”
“Okay, let’s start with that. If I weren’t unawakened, what would having you around do for me?”
“You’d understand dae, for one,” Rob muttered, slumping onto the counter with a groan. “This is like trying to explain the sky to someone who has been blind from birth, Alexa. We just know. How do you describe the color blue to someone who can’t see?”
“I guessed as much. When the dae came, their humans learned things about them. Something I don’t have. Everything changed so fast, but so many took it in stride. Why? How?”
“Their dae helped. Remember, I’m not like the newborn, either. I was created before any race manifested dae. I don’t know what it’s like to wake up one morning and discover I’m something completely different from when I went to sleep. I think it’s easier on those with externalized dae. Those bonded to externalized dae are, fundamentally, still human. Like I do with you, their dae absorb things from them. Energy, emotions, things like that. Arthur Hasling is probably an externalized dae who consumed his human and found he was slowly starving to death. When he found you, he realized you could feed him.”
“Like you. Earlier, you said that the dae were like nuclear fallout, the result of some big, magical bomb. If that’s true, how do the dae know so much about what they are, then?”
“Like me.” Rob’s cheek twitched. “You’re right; I’m not all that different from him in that regard. As for the dae’s knowledge, that’s also difficult to explain. When the Dawn happened, during the explosion, so to speak, the newborn dae tapped into us portal dae for the knowledge. They know because we portal dae know, and they’re not much different from us. We were created with the knowledge of what we are, and so were they. Magic, Alexa. But, that said, I’m really no different from Hasling in too many ways. You’re right. I’m like him.”
I reached over and poked the dae’s nose. “Except you didn’t flatten me into asphalt and try to find out how far you could go before you killed me. Big difference, Rob. A very, very big difference. I can accept I’m a walking meal ticket for you. How long can you be away from me before it starts to hurt you?”
“A week. It becomes problematic after a week. It’s true I had work I had to attend to, but I wanted to find out what my limits were. It gets worse; it’s harder than it used to be to gain energy from others, too. I’ve even found other unawakened humans in the city. It’s not the unawakened. It’s you. You’re different, and I don’t know why.” Frustration sharpened Rob’s tone, and I straightened, my eyes widening as I considered his words.
In my worries over losing my independence, I hadn’t thought about the adjustments Rob would have to make because of me. “What will happen to you if we’re apart for more than a week?”
Rob ran his hands through his hair in brisk strokes until it stuck up in all directions. “I can’t tell you. I don’t know. I’ll probably go through a gradual decline. Accelerated aging is likely. I’ll be tired and sleep more, too. Maybe with time I’d be able to get energy from other unbonded in desperation, but it’s not like I’ve been in this situation before. It’s as new for me as it is for you. It’s not something I’m really keen on testing. I crave being with you when you’re gone.”
I understood cravings far too well. “Okay. So you’re a helpless addict and I’m your drug. Do I have it right?”
With a groan, Rob draped his arms over his head. “You have it right.”
“Okay. So, what can you do? You don’t breathe fire, do you? I have a no fire policy. I’ve had enough burns for a lifetime, thank you.”
While Rob laughed, it was a weak, strained sound. “I don’t breathe fi
re.”
“So what’s your magic trick? All dae have tricks, don’t they?”
Rob lifted his head and met my gaze, his expression serious. “I suppose you can call our powers magic tricks. Some shapeshift, some breathe fire, some manipulate water, some fly, and some even grant wishes.”
Wishes.
A chill ran through me, starting with my toes and sweeping upwards, until I shuddered from its intensity. I understood wishes far too well.
I had wished my parents out of existence, and if I believed Rob, it had worked. Could a child’s wish actually come true? I was afraid to ask. If he confirmed I had wished them into their graves, what would it mean for me?
I had been a child.
“Wishes,” I echoed.
“Wishes,” he confirmed. “You don’t want to believe in anything, do you?” With a gentle touch, he took his Bible and patted the worn cover. “You shy away from religion like it will bite you. You don’t want to believe in it. You set goals within your reach, and you never quite dare to go beyond what you can actually achieve. All of your hopes and dreams are within your grasp, and you work hard to make them into a reality. Am I right?”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
“You’re a rare and exceptional human, Alexa. If only all humans could be like you, then the world would be a completely different place—but they’re not. They weren’t. They never will be. What if I told you that, once upon a time, the Bible wasn’t actually a religious text?”
I couldn’t help myself; I laughed at the idea the Bible, the focal point of several different religions, wasn’t actually a religious text. “I’d probably tell you that you’re crazy.”
“What if it had been a history book someone rewrote to fit their needs? What would you think then?” Rob pushed his Bible to me. “What if the Bible told true stories?”
“I’d definitely be a little more cautious about taking the Lord’s name in vain,” I muttered.
“Why?”
I didn’t know a whole lot about the Bible, but I had picked up a few things over the years—mostly the unpleasant consequences of sin. I had decided long ago I was so far removed from the good scale I had no hope of redemption in the eyes of most Christians.
I didn’t have any use for them, and as long as they didn’t bother me with their faith, I really didn’t care what anyone believed.
Sitting straighter, I pointed at the Bible. “I don’t know, Rob. Maybe the whole thing about the hosts of heaven coming down and smiting my ass for not believing like a good girl? I’m not exactly well-versed in the angelical religions, Rob. Not my thing.”
“What if I told you the hosts of heaven were already here?”
I snorted my laughter. “We’re all fucked.”
The ghost of a smile played across Rob’s mouth. “Some might say you’re one of the few who isn’t fucked, Miss Daegberht. What happened during the Dawn of Dae?”
The question took me by surprise, but after a few moments thinking about it, I replied, “You dae all showed up. A bunch of people disapp…”
I froze, my eyes widening as realization sank in. “Doesn’t the Bible say something about that?”
“For a charming little heathen, you are surprisingly knowledgeable about the end of days. A bunch of people disappeared. Sounds quite a bit like the Rapture, doesn’t it?”
“I only know the basics, Rob. You know, the basics to make an informed choice about religion—or my choice to forgo religion, which, for the record, is my stance. Believing in anything is pretty dangerous.”
“Yet they taught you the basics as a child.”
“So I could make an informed decision,” I hissed.
“Touchy, touchy. Relax. I’m not saying you need to believe. I’m just pointing out the coincidence so you can think about it.”
“Isn’t all of that from the bull—ah, more prophetic and colorful parts of the Bible?”
“Is it? Or is history merely repeating itself?” Rob smiled, leaned towards me, and kissed my forehead. “You’re pretty when you’re flustered. I already told you what type of dae I am. I’m in the business of knowledge. I learn things—things people don’t want me to know. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but knowledge frightens people most of all. I’m very good at what I do, and you’d be surprised at how much someone will pay to keep their deepest, darkest secrets safe from the world. That’s my job. I learn things, and I keep secrets. I’m very good at what I do.”
“What sort of secrets?” I whispered.
“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. But, all things come at a price, including wishes and knowledge. Do you truly want to know?”
I clenched my teeth together. Did I want to know? Could I, if I asked, learn if I had truly killed my parents when I had wished on a star so many years ago? I swallowed. “What are the dae, Rob?”
“The end of days brought to life. The dae are the hopes, dreams, and wishes of people ripped away from them, leaving the progenitors something less than human. The dae are ambition manifested. They are everything wrong with the world given flesh.” Rob paused, and he smiled again. “They’re everything right with the world, too. You’d think of them as magic, although they’re far more than that. Be careful what you wish for, Alexa. Someone might be listening.”
I believed him, and because I did, I was afraid.
10
“You’re the unawakened.”
A lifetime of working on my own should have prepared me for the realities of interviewing with the police without Rob or Colby supporting me. Going to Kenneth’s alone had led to disaster, and I still craved another hit of the red drug and its pleasures.
I acknowledged it wasn’t just the drug I craved, but I craved the experience with Rob.
He had changed everything, even more than the Dawn of Dae had changed the world. I still wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing. Rob’s explanations left me with more questions than answers, but I hesitated to press him any more on the subject.
Maybe the world had changed, but I had changed, too. When Rob had drugged me in order to get revenge on Kenneth, I should have been furious.
Rob had drugged me.
Instead of being angry with him, I had laughed. I hadn’t cared. Instead of being sensible, I wanted to see how far he would go for my sake. In so many ways, Kenneth’s red drug was similar to Rob’s aphrodisiac.
I should have been angry. The sharp bite of betrayal should have pierced through me. It hadn’t, and I didn’t understand why. Had it been because Rob had dosed himself as well? Was accepting equal risk part of it?
The walk to the police station from Rob’s apartment wasn’t far. Instead of preparing myself for the interview, I spent the entire time wondering what was wrong with me.
Answers once again slipped through my fingers, leaving me with far too many questions.
In the fringe, the police stations were concrete and steel reinforced buildings, more often than not single storied, with the holding cells located in the basement. They were designed to withstand just about anything, not that those from the fringe had the weaponry required to bust in or out of such a place.
They were a symbol of how hopeless such an effort would be, and it worked.
The glass and steel skyscraper belonging to the police blended in with the surrounding condominiums and department stores. At first, I wasn’t sure I was at the right place, forcing me to dig my tablet out of my purse to check the address.
Apparently, the elite didn’t like openly advertising the police were so close to their prized residences. In the fringe, the eagle-in-flight logo marked the front door and a nearby street sign, ensuring everyone who came close to the station knew what it was.
I tucked my tablet back in my purse, clenched my teeth together, and pushed through the double doors. The lobby reminded me of the Ivory Tower with its polished marble floors. A large reception desk made of dark wood stretched along the entire wall to my right, and five women sat behind it.
They ignored me until I strode to them, my heels clicking on the floor.
The woman I approached wore the dark blue of those in the force, her gold and silver badge pinned to her chest. Brown eyes flecked with red and yellow betrayed her as a fire user long before I was close enough to catch a whiff of the smoke clinging to her. A shiver went up my spine.
Instead of turning and fleeing for the safety of the street, I said, “I have an eight o’clock interview with Sergeant Gildroy.”
“Name?” Flames crackled in the woman’s voice, and another shiver ran through me.
“Alexa Daegberht, ma’am.”
My name caught her attention, and she narrowed her eyes and looked me over. “It says here you are from the lower commons.”
I struggled to keep my expression neutral. The lower commons was a nice way of saying the fringe, and the doubt in her tone made me tense. Losing my cool wouldn’t get me admitted for an interview. I forced a smile, the same boot-licking smile I’d used so many times before, and said, “I’m a Bach student, ma’am.”
“It doesn’t say that in our file.”
At Rob’s recommendation, I was wearing my gun under my jacket. With the gun came my carry permit, and I dug for my wallet. I pulled out my college identification card and my carry permit, setting them on the polished surface of the desk. “I can pull out my tablet and show you my access details if you need additional proof.”
The cop snatched up my cards, and when she caught sight of my carry permit, her eyes widened. “Where did you get this?”
Her outburst drew the attention of the other four women, who stared at me with undisguised curiosity.
No matter how much the world changed, some things stayed the same. With Rob, I had enjoyed a sense of equality, but the woman reminded me of why I had worked so hard to rise through the ranks.
Until I secured my Bach, there’d only be exceptions to the rules of prejudice. What would the woman do if she found out I was unawakened, too?
Smiling hurt, but I did it anyway. “It was issued for me after the Dawn, ma’am.”