His eyebrows twitched, but he nodded solemnly. “I understand. You have nothing to fear from me.” He glanced over sharply, but only for a fraction of a second, not daring to take his eyes away from the road for longer than the span of a blink. “I know you’re not pleased with us. And I do understand why. Just know that we are soldiers. We are often tasked with less than desirable orders, but we cannot deny an Angel.”
I nodded, tapping my lip. “Do you know your father? Or mother? How does that work? Is it always a male bloodline?”
His forehead bunched up in surprise. “You don’t know?”
“Missed that day in Sunday School. When the lobbyist for Smiters Anonymous came in.”
“I… do not know that group,” he said, forehead furrowed. There was a lot of sighing coming from my side of the Holy Miata. “It’s all about lineage,” he continued. “There are the Firsts, who are directly descended from an Angel and a mortal, but the rest of us have parents who were both Nephilim, as the genes carry down. Not many Firsts these days, they tend to get killed off.”
I nodded, thinking. “What if a Nephilim sleeps with a mortal? Does it always make another Nephilim?” I asked, thinking about my own history and what I’d been told about it.
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” he admitted.
I guessed I was just lucky, then. Maybe I really was a Nephilim, because I sure had received a lot of Heaven’s benefits package, even though I didn’t toe the line and work for an Angel.
Chapter 6
A short time later, we pulled up to an old brownstone near the Plaza – much nicer than the brownstones I had visited earlier. Alyksandre seemed to take an hour and a half parallel parking his toy car in a spot big enough for a tank. He even got out to verify we were the appropriate distance from the curb and the other cars. I wouldn’t have been too surprised to see him whip out a ruler.
I followed him up the steps to the front door, but glanced over my shoulder as I heard a catcall. I noticed a jeep swerving down the street with two college guys hanging out the back window, obviously drunk as they hooted at me. A common, but annoying, occurrence.
Unbelievably, they swerved and accidentally clipped Alyksandre’s side mirror. They slammed on their brakes abruptly, skidding to a halt, their cheer dying like a popped balloon. I felt Alyksandre looming behind me, muttering furiously.
The car sped off an instant later, their windows rolling back up as they fled the scene.
Alyksandre was panting as he stared at his car, seeming more offended that they had fled than that they had hit his car in the first place. “Drunk driving… have they no sense of responsibility?” he growled.
I patted him on the shoulder and walked past him into the building. “You were parked a little far from the curb…” I offered.
His gasp of indignation was satisfying.
Two men stood just inside the doorway, glancing over my shoulder alertly, having overheard part of the commotion outside and likely trying to determine if it was a smite-able offense. Then they seemed to notice me. I heard the door click closed behind me as Alyksandre cleared his throat. The Nephilim stood down, not that they had seemed aggressive towards me or anything, but the sudden relaxed set to their shoulders made me wonder if I had missed the threat.
Alyksandre walked past us and began ascending the stairs. “Please follow me.”
I stayed close, but far enough away to be ready for an attack – even though that was highly unlikely. These Nephilim were dangerous, but obviously honorable, judging by Alyksandre. In fact… I hadn’t ever really seen them do anything that lethal. Like they were the administrative side of the Nephilim. I knew Nate had run afoul of some Nephilim in St. Louis, and they had left him for dead in a sandwich shop, but to be honest, I was kind of disappointed in the Kansas City crew. All bark, no smite.
They’d avoided almost every confrontation I’d ever been involved in. Or… had been caught and killed when they did try to assist.
Maybe I was giving them too much credit. Not sheepdogs, but sheep.
Alyksandre reached a set of double doors and hesitated for a second before knocking. A muffled response came from within before he opened the doors.
Angel sat on a wooden chair in the back of the room near a stained-glass window. The desk was a simple wooden piece, no ornate carvings of weeping angels or anything. In fact, it almost reminded me of a destitute bachelor’s pad. Nothing hung on the walls. No elaborate couches or pillows. No fancy rugs. No decorations on the bookshelf near the back of the room.
A few more Nephilim stood on either side of the desk, but hung a few paces back to give Angel space. I approached the desk, studying the space further as I followed Alyksandre. I noticed the bookshelf was actually full of ancient texts – all related to God, Heaven, Scripture, or the Occult. It was the most extravagant thing I had seen so far in the house, but that wasn’t saying much.
Thinking back, the entire house had been like this. Stark. Spartan. Functional. Not an Angel lounging in the lap of luxury. But an Angel with a purpose, not a material girl, figuratively speaking.
Angel watched me approach, face devoid of emotion. He was a tall, imposing figure, even sitting down. He had a long, narrow face, but his harsh, godly-clefted chin more than made up for it, and his wavy blonde hair hung to his shoulders, glistening like spun gold.
“I’ve brought Callie Penrose to see you…” Alyksandre said, eyes lowered.
“Thank you, Alyksandre. Please, leave us. Can you—” he cut off with a smile to find Alyksandre already pulling over a simple wooden stool for me to sit, “thank you.”
Alyksandre dipped his head, set the seat beside me, patted my shoulder in an awkward attempt at reassurance, and then left. So did the others. I made sure they all left, turning my back on Angel until the door closed. I took my time turning back around to him, scanning the room for cameras or secret doors.
Nothing. We were alone. I finally sat down. “Okay. What’s this about, Angel?”
He tapped a finger on the desk absently, as if considering his response. “First off, you should know that I go by a different name, now. It was apparently confusing to some of the locals,” he said, sounding vaguely puzzled, as if not understanding why his name had been confusing.
In a literal fashion, I could understand his confusion. Angel the Angel. What was so confusing about that?
But he didn’t understand humans very well. Or monsters. It was like calling everyone on the street Human and then wondering why they gave you strange looks.
“Oh? And what do you go by, now?” I asked, not really caring one way or another.
“Nameless,” he replied, watching me.
I looked up, frowning. “That’s an unusual choice…”
He shrugged. “I’m not good at coming up with things like that, so it seemed to fit.”
“Right,” I said, as if it made perfect sense. “Any reason you keep changing your name? Didn’t… He give you one, originally?”
Angel – Nameless – glanced down at the desk, seeming… tired. “I feel that our original names hold us back. Too long a history attached to them. I feel it has gone to some of our heads. That we expect mankind to drop to their knees in rapture when they hear our names. It… isn’t right.”
I watched him discreetly, wondering what it meant for the world if an Angel was having an identity crisis. Or maybe he was a body snatcher. A demon in disguise. Because he seemed entirely different from the last time I had met him. I casually angled the toes of my boots to face him – since they could detect demons – but felt nothing, which was even more baffling.
“Okay, Nameless. I’m here. You’re here… The why still eludes me.”
He nodded. “I realized that authority didn’t work with you. That I mishandled you.”
“You are never going to be handling me, Ang— Nameless,” I corrected myself. That new name was going to take some getting used to. “Let’s lay that point out front and center, and then proceed from there.”
<
br /> He took a deep, relaxing breath, and then nodded. “Okay.”
I waited. Then I squinted suspiciously. “What is this? Good cop tactics?”
He shook his head sincerely, even managing to look mildly guilty. “No. I misjudged you. Old habits are hard to break. I’m used to working with Nephilim who already know what they are. Have known what they are their entire lives, practically. They want this life and consider it an honor. But you… had it thrust upon you. I never took that into account. Or your stubborn, simple-minded Free Will.” A faint smile cracked his features, softening his comment. “I have seen the error of my ways, but as you can see, it is not easy for me to admit.”
Something about that smile was contagious, and I found myself relaxing. “Okay.”
He studied me. “You have lost much for one so young. I do wish we had found you sooner.”
Something in my stomach tightened, and I felt the Whispers in the back of my mind, but I pressed them down, wanting to focus entirely on this conversation. I was sitting down with an Angel, and he was nothing like the last time I had encountered him in the diner with his two Nephilim thugs. Which one was the real version? Or was he genuinely remorseful for mishandling me? That sounded Angelic. But… it was more likely – at least in human circles, which I wasn’t in at the moment – for one of the two to be a deceit. A ploy.
Something was up, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like it.
Chapter 7
I looked up, trying to get a read on his motivations, but came up with nothing. “I have,” I admitted. “But I don’t think finding me any sooner would have changed things. My disdain for authority is pretty much ingrained. Being an orphan will do that to you.”
“I know a few things about parental abandonment…” he said with a guilty sigh, leaning back in his chair. I stiffened on my stool. Had that been… a joke, or literal? He wasn’t smiling, though. He just looked sad. “Sometimes it is necessary, but it still inflicts a deep pain. I would help you find absolution, but I’m not sure you want it. The offer is there, nonetheless.”
I found myself dipping my chin appreciatively. I checked my mind to verify he wasn’t softening me up with some power play, but I couldn’t even sense his power unless I focused on it.
He smiled knowingly. “I’m containing my power at present. I didn’t want to give you a reason to act defensively. This is just a talk. Not a recruitment pitch. I’ve given much thought to this conversation. Especially after you… well, our last encounter.” He looked torn between smiling in amusement and frowning in displeasure, leaving his cheeks to spasm between the two like a mini seizure. I knew Angels weren’t accustomed to displaying emotion in the first place, so his reaction was the equivalent of him attempting to pole-vault while quoting Shakespeare.
“I don’t think Alyksandre knew it was just for a chat. He made it sound important,” I said.
Nameless nodded. “Everything is important to him. Every injustice is a personal slap of disrespect to our cause, in his eyes. But he is also working on mastering his vehemence. His people skills.”
Sensing the correlation Nameless seemed to be assuming from my comment, I clarified. “He was the perfect gentleman. Not rude. Just… concerned. Wary.”
“And should one not be wary after their first encounter with you sent them sprawling into the street, booted from a church? And when the second meeting put their boss in danger?” he asked in a soft, neutral tone. Not sounding amused or angry. Just… controlled, stating the facts. Oh, he wasn’t pleased about it. Not at all. But he was keeping his emotions in check.
I felt like I had walked into a Twilight Zone episode.
“You sent Alyksandre to pick me up in the middle of the night because you wanted to tell me you mishandled me during our previous encounters. But… you don’t have any further requests for me,” I said, summarizing the meeting so far.
He grunted. “To balance my… self-control, I might have relished the idea of causing you a small inconvenience by choosing the time of our meeting,” he admitted, smiling down at his hands. “I have plenty of requests, Callie, but I have come to realize that we don’t share the same priorities.”
I studied him. “Well, the way I see it, that’s one of the problems. I’ve taken down two demons. And Gabriel, the only Nephilim who offered to help, died. It seems our relationship could be defined by mistaken priorities. I’ve been shouldering all the weight, while your crew has been swimming in the piety pool.”
The wooden desk cracked, making me jump instinctively. It was only a hairline fracture, and Nameless had gone forcibly still, closing his eyes. I waited, holding my breath. “Yes…” he finally admitted, letting out a breath and opening his eyes. “My apologies for the desk. It is not easy to admit fault. I never claimed to be perfect.”
I nodded very slowly, letting a few moments pass before speaking. “This is pretty strange, Nameless. I can’t tell if I’m in trouble or not. Or if I should care if I was. If you know you should have helped, why didn’t you?”
He nodded. “I haven’t always been free to choose my assignments – let alone act at all – in worldly events. But… the walls seem to be weakening. I have more sway now, but not as much as we need to stand against the Armies of Hell. This newfound… freedom to act is likely a result of the demons appearing here in recent months.”
“That makes sense.” I actively ignored his comment about Armies of Hell on the horizon, wanting to be able to get some sleep later. “So, you knew my fights were important, but were unable to get too involved. Any idea why?”
“No,” he said, sounding troubled. “But that is why I might have come across too strongly during our first interaction. I wanted to rectify the situation, and instead took my frustration out on you. I saw power, an unmarked Nephilim slaughtering demons on her own.” He lifted his head to stare at me with his intense, pale eyes. “I wanted you to lead my Nephilim.”
I blinked in disbelief. Talk about bad ideas. I would have gone on a rampage with an army of Nephilim at my back. I hadn’t been in a very sane place when I first met Ang— Nameless.
He stood, resting a palm over the desk. The wood groaned as it grew back together. He then walked over to the wall and leaned against it, folding his arms as he faced me.
“If that ever sounds appealing to you, I would appreciate it if you’d let me know…” he said.
I nodded. “I will… consider it. But I’ll be honest, I’m wary of abrupt changes of character,” I told him, pointedly looking him up and down.
He nodded. “That’s why I asked you here. If I met you now, bared my breasts, admitted my past mistakes… then perhaps our healing could begin sooner. Give you more time to trust me before things get worse.”
“I won’t be baring my breasts, just to be clear, but…” I locked eyes with him. “I do appreciate this. Truly. I won’t say I’m convinced, no offense, but I am surprised. And open minded.”
“They say women forgive, but never forget,” he murmured with a faint smile.
“And men forget, but never forgive,” I replied, returning the smile.
A look of genuine amusement crossed his face. “I like that.”
“So, that’s it? You aren’t about to shackle me into servitude?”
“No,” he said, almost sorrowful. “You are free to go.” He extended a hand towards the door. “I appreciate you giving me a chance to speak my mind. I don’t blame you for feeling hesitant.”
I studied him suspiciously. This was all too weird. I was a pretty good judge of character. But that was with humans, not Angels. Was I missing something?
“Okay. Nice talk.”
I turned and walked back to the door, ready for his hidden card.
I heard papers shuffling and glanced over a shoulder as my hand rested on the door handle. Nameless was reading from a small stack of papers, old parchments of some kind.
I hesitated, calling myself nine kinds of idiot.
“Just out of curiosity, what kind of req
uests did you have on your plate?”
He looked up at me, not a flicker of victory or surprise on his face. In fact, he looked hesitant.
“We can handle it. I’d rather have your trust, first. But thank you for asking.” He resumed reading his papers, not dismissing me, but as if trying to be polite. I knew this tactic, dangling a carrot, but I was still too curious to leave it hanging. I could always decline after he told me.
“I just meant that maybe it would be beneficial to exchange information, at least. A good starting point. We both want the best for the city, right?”
He looked back up at me, nodding thoughtfully. “But I also want what is best for my Nephilim and Heaven. If I can’t have all your devotion to that cause, I’m not sure I want any of it. It would only make things worse.”
“Just consider us allies exchanging information. I definitely don’t want anything bad to happen to your cause. I’m just not sure I want to get the tattoo yet.”
He finally set his papers down.
“Do you drink tea?”
“Sure,” I said, making my way back to the table, wondering if I had made a mistake. Oddly enough, I could tell that Nameless harbored the same thought.
Were things really that bad in Kansas City?
I sat down, and Nameless began to talk.
Chapter 8
I studied Nameless thoughtfully, considering what he had just shared with me. “Just a scouting mission…” I repeated, watching his eyes.
He nodded. I glanced over at Alyksandre who had entered the room halfway through Nameless’ explanation. He stood beside the bookshelf, decked out in dark military fatigues with a sword over his shoulder, having dropped the plaid shirt and jeans. I arched an eyebrow.
“Just in case,” he said. “We are always ready for the worst.”
Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2 Page 4