“We’ve been patient,” my mom said. “We’ve tried to give you time to work through your feelings. Well, it’s time to get over it and get on with life. This hiding in your room is going to stop.” My mom picked up her mug and took a sip of coffee. Her gaze never left my face.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. And then the tears came. I sobbed, laying my head on the table. I couldn’t get the image of the girl lying on the pavement, her blonde hair soaked in her own blood, because of me.
“You can’t fight them,” my dad said quietly. He leaned over and rubbed my shoulder.
“It’s my fault.”
“You have to give into your visions or things like that will keep happening.” My mom smoothed my hair over my ear. “Learn to look at the visions as a gift, Milayna, rather than a curse. You have the ability to help people in a way others can’t.”
It is kind of awesome. If I stop fighting it and learn to use it
My dad cleared his throat. “There’s more we need to tell you.”
“Oh,” I said between hiccupped sobs, “something tells me I don’t want to hear it.”
My mom slapped her hand flat against the tabletop, and I flinched. “You will listen, Milayna! It’s important. There are far worse things you could be than a demi-angel. People don’t get to choose their lot in life. This is the life you’ve been given. So stop whining and bitching and learn to deal. We’ll talk after school.”
My parents stood and walked out of the room, leaving me slouched in a chair at the kitchen table. I was supposed to leave for school, but instead, I sat at the table most of the morning, thinking.
Emotions tumbled through my brain like a dryer set on high. Some sliced through me, like my family’s betrayal and lies, leaving wounds still open and hurting. I opened my heart and pushed those emotions out. They were toxic and not something I had room for. Not something I wanted to keep. Other emotions were raw, but welcomed. Memories of family game nights, traditional Saturday morning breakfasts, trips to the mall with Muriel. That was my life. Was it really going to change as drastically as I pictured?
***
I was in my room when my parents got home from work that evening. I heard them talking and laughing when they came in. It was rare they came home at the same time, so I figured our impending conversation had something to do with that. I bounded down the stairs to meet them.
“You should change out of your work clothes. I made dinner.” Shoving my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, I rose on the balls of my feet and then lowered myself down again. “And I took Ben to Grams’.”
“Really? I thought something smelled good in here.” My mom smiled at me. We walked into the kitchen, and she went to peek in the oven. “Roasted chicken. It’s perfect.”
Dad took the lid off a pot on the stove. “Mashed potatoes.” He smiled and looked at me. I winked at him, and his smile widened. That was our secret sign that let him know I used extra butter—and not the diet kind that Mom used.
My parents went upstairs to change and wash up for dinner while I set the table. When we all sat down, my mom looked over the table and gave a happy sigh. “This is nice, Milayna. I didn’t feel like cooking tonight. Thank you. And thanks for taking Ben to Grams’ house. I wasn’t looking forward to fighting rush-hour traffic.”
I fiddled with my fork and nodded. “I wanted to help.”
We ate in a semi-comfortable silence until my dad spoke. “You skipped school today.” He took a bite of mashed potatoes.
“I had a lot to think about.”
“Yes, I suppose you did.”
I picked off a slice of chicken with my fork. “I’ve come to a conclusion,” I said. “I don’t like it, but hiding in my room and trying to fight my visions doesn’t change what I am. And I don’t particularly like the person I’ve been the last few days. I don’t want to be bitter and nasty the rest of my life.”
“That’s good, Milayna.” My mom nodded. “I’m really glad to hear you aren’t happy with how you’ve been acting because, well, you’ve been almost unbearable to live with.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words.
“I know. I really am sorry.”
We ate in silence for a bit. The only sound in the room was the scraping of utensils against plates and the ice maker dropping cubes of ice in the bin.
Shifting in my seat, I turned toward my dad. “So, what did you want to tell me? You said this morning there was more I needed to know. I think I’m ready to know the whole truth. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of something I did or didn’t do.”
“Well, first,” my dad said around a bite of asparagus, “it might help you deal with things knowing there are others like you out there.”
“I know. Muriel.” I nodded and picked up my water glass.
“Yes, she’s a demi-angel too, but there are others.” My dad wiped his mouth on a napkin and reached for another biscuit. “Including you and Muriel, there are ten demi-angels at your school. They all know about their powers. You are the youngest, so you’re the last to show signs that your powers are maturing.”
“Signs? Like the visions?”
“Yes, that’s part of your power. You have the ability to change the course of some people’s lives. Sometimes, you’ll be able to step in and change it for the better, and sometimes you won’t. But once you mature, you’ll have the power to fight Azazel and his demons. Your visions will help you track him, see his plans, and stop him before he can unleash his evil on earth.”
He finished buttering his biscuit, set it and his knife down, and pushed them out of the way. “Milayna, I was the third highest-ranked angel. On earth, I am the highest-ranked angel. That means my children are the highest-ranked demi-angels. Your power is far greater than any other demi-angel. Your job, your power, is to track Azazel and his demons. Keep them from doing harm, making sure humans are as safe as possible from their evil. But above all—keep the underworld from taking over the earth. It would be a massacre if the evil of hell were let loose on unsuspecting humans. It’s that power, the power to track, stop, and kill his demons, that Azazel wants from you. And He. Will. Kill. To. Get. It.”
I swallowed hard against the lump forming in my throat. Setting my fork down, I wiped at the tears building in my eyes. Thinking of Mr. Rodriguez and the girl burned a piece of me, like a brand or a tattoo. That memory was bound to me. “Um, why was I able to fight the vision so hard yesterday? If I have to step in, if that’s my duty, why was I able to wait until it was too late?”
My dad shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not sure. It’s probably because your visions are still weak. Your power hasn’t reached its full strength yet, but the more you have the visions, the closer to your birthday you get, the stronger they’ll become. You’ll come to a point where you won’t be able to fight them.”
“Good. I don’t want that to happen again. Ever. I may not be completely thrilled with them, but I know I don’t want anything to happen to anyone because of me again.” I thought of the girl lying on the pavement. Just two seconds, that was all. If I’d gotten there just two seconds earlier, it could’ve been avoided. The guilt was like a giant mouth that swallowed me whole.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
I forced the memory of the girl out of my head. “Who are the others?”
“They’ll come to you. Muriel will help introduce you to the group. Listen, Milayna, this is very important. Right now, your powers are stronger when you’re with another demi. They won’t be fully mature until your eighteenth birthday, and until then, you are susceptible to outside forces.” There was an urgency in his voice that pulled me to him and caused goose bumps to spread on my skin.
“What kind of outside forces?”
“Well, it’ll be easier for you to understand if I explain a little about me. Then you’ll be able to understand what sets you apart from the other demi-angels.” I nodded my head for him to keep going. “I was a high-ranking angel when I left. Third in charge of the Iri Council
.”
“What’s that mean?” Putting my elbow on the table, I rested my chin on my upturned palm. I had the feeling we’d be talking for a long time.
He flipped his chair and straddled it. “The Council is the government of the Iri. I had a high position, and my high ranking made my powers stronger. As my daughter, that power transferred to you. You are a high-ranking demi, so your powers will be stronger than other demis.” My dad stopped and took in a big breath. “It also means you’ll be the leader of the group and other stuff after you turn eighteen,” he said so quickly the words blended together in to one long word. “But until then… Well, until then, you have to be careful. There are people who want to harm you.”
This just keeps getting better and better. First, I was just a demi-angel, but now, I’m like a demi-angel general. Go me! Ugh!
“For every good force in the world, there is an evil force.” Dad ran his hand down his face. I studied him; he looked worried. His eyes were dull and smudged underneath with dark bruises. Tiny lines fanned out from his eyes. His mouth was pinched. For the first time, I thought my dad looked old.
“So evil wants to get me? I don’t understand what you mean.”
“The Irin are our enemy, and one of the main jobs of the Fallen is to convert or kill the Iri. Azazel, a high-ranking Irin, wants your powers. He’ll do anything to get them, even if that means killing you so you can’t use them.” He doodled on the table with his finger. “Until you are eighteen, you are susceptible to his influence. But after your eighteenth birthday, your powers will strengthen and you’ll become immune to him. He won’t be able to touch you.”
My hands began to shake and were slick with sweat. I wiped them up and down my pant legs.
You said kill. That’s more than touching! That’s ending, like ending a life. Over, done, finished, caput. I don’t like this demi-angel thing. At. All.
“Why not?” I asked, hoping my voice wouldn’t give out. “What makes me so special when I turn eighteen?”
“Your ranking as a demi-angel will supersede Azazel’s ranking as an Irin. Essentially, when my Iri rank and power transfers to you, it will make you the strongest demi-angel on earth. You will hold more power than Hell’s Angel. And when Ben reaches eighteen, well, the two of you together? You will have control of the angelic army, which will be so strong that the demons of Hell won’t have any footing on earth. The thousands-year-long fight to reign over the earth with evil will be stopped.”
“Wait—” Questions were rolling around in my brain so fast it was hard to concentrate enough to ask one. “If I’m so vulnerable, why hasn’t he tried to get to me before now? And, I mean, if I’m so vulnerable, how come you’re just telling me this now? He could have grabbed me!” I smelled the coffee my mom was making and inhaled deeply, the smell oddly comforting. “And why didn’t you prepare me before now? I mean, isn’t there some kind of class for this? A special school like Harry Potter had? I mean, come on, really? I find out a few weeks before my birthday, just sitting in my kitchen.”
A chill ran through my body as I thought about Azazel and him actually wanting to kill me. If this wild fantasy were true, then I’d been walking around for days with a huge target on my back and didn’t know it. Nothing said “kill me” like a person who didn’t know to protect herself! My lungs hurt when I took a breath. I rubbed my chest with the palm of my hand and gripped the edge of the table with the other.
“You were safe. The other demi-angels were following you. Keeping watch—”
I slapped both hands on the table and stood. “You had me followed!”
“It was for your own protection. Once the visions started, we knew you were vulnerable, but we hadn’t prepared you yet. Plus, you weren’t in the best mood for us to tell you all this.” My dad rubbed the back of his neck. “You were having enough trouble just finding out you were a demi-angel. I was afraid if I dumped this on you too, you’d really lose it.”
The tension leaked from my shoulders, and I slipped back in my seat and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s fair. I wasn’t listening to you.”
My mom set a cup of coffee in front of my dad, and he took a sip before answering. “Before your visions, you were in a safety period. Azazel only has two opportunities to get to a demi-angel: before you reach the age of accountability and then again in the months leading up to your eighteenth birthday.”
“Age of accountability?”
“Yes, the age a person is able to understand the difference between right and wrong, good and evil. Once they understand the difference, they choose which to embrace. Azazel can try to influence their choice, but when they reach the age of accountability—regardless of the choice they’ve made—they enter a safety period. This is the time during their childhood when they are too young to protect themselves from Azazel’s evil. But when their demi-angel powers emerge in the months or weeks leading up to their eighteenth birthday, they lose that safety. Azazel has one more opportunity to convert or take the demi-angel’s powers before they fully mature.”
I stared at my hands and twisted my fingers one after the other, thinking about everything my dad had told me. So far, he’d made the visions seem like fun in comparison to this Azazel. Azazel. Even his name sent shivers through me. I couldn’t stop shaking, and I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning. I could die. Muriel could die. Geez, this was way too much. My body felt brittle. Put the least bit of pressure on me, and I’d snap.
As I glanced to my right, the pink sticky notes counting down the days to my birthday caught my eye. I tilted my head, stared at them, and had the oddest sensation. It was funny. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe laughing about it was a way to release the stress building inside me like steam in a teakettle.
I laughed and pointed at the refrigerator. “That’s why you made the little countdown calendar on the refrigerator, right? I thought it was because you were excited about my big birthday: turning eighteen, becoming an adult, and all that. But you’re really counting down the days I have to either fight off Azazel or die.” I laughed harder.
I’m losing it. This is so not funny. Why am I laughing? It’s not funny, but it totally is funny, too
My mother sighed. She wrapped her arms around her middle and sat down. Her lips clamped together in a straight line as she glanced at my dad. Her eyes were soft and swimming with emotion. I could almost see her irises swirling like waves in a storm. “Sort of,” she answered finally.
I laughed so hard that I snorted. “Wow, when people say turning eighteen is a milestone, they really have no idea!”
My dad chuckled. “Look, Milayna, the bottom line is that you have to be aware at all times. He’ll use anything or anyone to get to you. If he is able to convert you and pull you to his side, he’ll control your powers, making him even stronger than he already is.”
“Wait, he’ll use anyone? What keeps Mom safe?” I looked between the two of them.
My mom pulled the collar of her shirt down her back and showed me a patch of raised skin. I’d seen it before when she’d worn a tank top or swimsuit, but I’d never examined it before. Now I saw it was an intricate design, the layers of skin weaving above and under each other. “It’s a rune for protection. All human family members get them. It doesn’t keep us completely untouchable, but it gives some protection.”
I ran my fingers over the patch of skin. “Good. That makes me feel better.” I smiled at my mom and she pinched my side, tickling me. When I stopped laughing, I looked at my dad and asked, “So, what is he waiting for? I mean, I’m not in the safety period anymore.”
“The closer it gets to your birthday, the stronger you’ll become. That means there’ll be more power for him to absorb. He’s greedy. He’ll wait until the last possible second so he can absorb the most power from you.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Your powers are weakest when you’re having a vision. Azazel will exploit that. He’ll force visions on you by creating situations that will require
your involvement. Knowing that, I want you to make sure you’re always with another demi. They can protect you, and you can protect them.”
Taking a drink of his coffee, he wrinkled his nose. He dumped some creamer into it and tasted it again. With a nod, he turned his focus back to me. “Because you are the highest-ranking demi and the leader of the group, the others in the group are also vulnerable until you turn eighteen. You must, you must, work as a team, Milayna. I can’t stress that enough. You’re strongest when you are a united front. Alone, you are at your weakest, and Azazel has a better chance of defeating you. It’s very important you understand that.”
Okay, then, this Azazel guy was really serious. Taking in a deep breath, I glanced at my mom. She’d been silent while my dad talked. She stared into her coffee mug with glassy eyes, and I could see a slight tremor in her hands. My dad was also acting strange, downing coffee like it was water, and he was in the middle of Death Valley in July. They seemed as worried and scared as I was, and my heart rate kicked up another beat. I thought this was all about my demi-angel status and me, but looking at my parents, I could see it was also affecting them.
I forced a smile. “How do we fight him, Dad? This Azazel guy? Do I have laser beams for eyes or spider webs that shoot from my hands?” I asked, only half joking. If Azazel was as evil as they said, what could a group of teenagers do to stop him?
My dad laughed. “No, you don’t have spider webs or laser beams. You’ll have to rely on good, old-fashioned, hand-to-hand combat against his demis.”
“The Tae Kwon Do and every other type of self-defense class you could find—is this why you made me take them?”
“Yes.” My mom set down her coffee mug and moved to pull me into a hug. I squeezed her to me, breathing in her comforting scent.
“As your powers increase, you’ll have telekinetic energy, but it will be weak. You won’t be able to rely on it until your powers fully mature.”
“Wow.” My brain was slogged down with information. It was so full that I had trouble focusing on one thing to process. But telekinesis? Really? I was really starting to believe my dad was embellishing the story a little. Everything I’d heard so far seemed mega far-fetched, but the telekinesis tipped it over the mountain into bizarro world.
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