Nate moved closer and put his arms around both of us. “I love you guys.”
I laughed, choking on a half-sob at the same time. “There’s hope for us, then.”
“Of course there is,” Alex dropped a kiss on my head. “We all love each other. Maybe some of us a little too much…”
Nate winced.
I nudged him in the ribs. “Now come on. We’ve got to call your parents.”
Twenty minutes later, I sat on the sofa in the boys' bungalow and watched them call their circles.
Having cleared the furniture and rugs out of the lounge room, both boys were setting up their circles, pouring salt onto the flagstones in an unbroken line. Alex, taking the left spot, pulled out a piece of chalk and got busy drawing the summoning sigil on the floor.
“How come you’re making it so big?” I asked as he drew. “In the caves, I drew a teeny, tiny squiggle in the dirt, and she still came through.”
He glanced up at me, finishing a curling cornice with a full sweep of his arm. “The bigger the sigil, the more flames you create, the easier it is for Nimue to come through. She expended an awful lot of energy coming through in the caves - in fact, she barely heard you. But she did hear you - just - and she came through anyway. Because she heard that it was you calling, and correctly assumed it was an emergency.”
“And she still managed to get us out of the caves, and heal you? She must be powerful.”
“Well, she was struggling once we got back here. Luckily, Met was here, and he healed me while she got her strength back.”
“He did?”
“Yes, I did!” His cheeky voice popped up beside me.
“Gah!” I clutched my heart. “Met, would you please stop doing that!” The little man had materialized again on the sofa right next to me, resplendent in his plush, jet-black, velvet suit, his bowler hat still perched on his head. But now, he had a Dundalk Football Club pin on his lapel, and he was holding a pint glass in his hand.
“Speak of the devil, and the devil will appear,” he announced grandly.
“You are an angel, Met,” I told him patiently. “You are literally the Voice of God.”
“We’re all the same stock and breed, darling.”
“I didn’t think you were? I was under the impression that you, out of all of them, were created for a specific purpose, and that all the others just sort of… fell into their roles?”
“Don’t believe the hype, my little Strawberry. We are all the same. We were all created equally. We just make different choices, that’s all.” He winked at me. “And beyond that, Angel and Demon, Human and Cambion and Nephilim… we’re all just meat-covered skeletons riding a spinning ball through space. We’re just ghosts, huddled inside a collection of rapidly-vibrating molecules, clinging to a giant silicate rock.”
I grinned at him. “You have a way with words, Met.”
He tipped his hat to me. “That’s probably why I do what I do!” He held his pint glass out to me. “Cheers!”
“Is that your famous Fireball and chocolate milk combo?”
“Of course not! It’s Guinness. And you can’t have any.” He tipped the glass towards his lips and drained half of it in one gulp.
I rolled my eyes at him, and he beamed, wiping the foam off his lips. With the other hand, he offered me a bag of candy. “Sweets?”
I held my hand up to refuse, until I saw the bag filled with crystallized ginger. “How do you know exactly what I feel like, Met?” I asked, taking a few little cubes of spicy sweetness.
“You are a glutton, Strawberry. You feel like everything.”
Nate clapped his hands. “If you two are finished, we’re ready to cast the circles.”
Met made a show of pinching his lips shut, locking them, and throwing away the imaginary key. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse,” he declared.
“Shush,” I giggled, and nudged him. “You’ll get me in trouble.”
Alex grinned at me warmly, I could feel it. As soon as my eyes found him, I couldn't look anywhere else. He stood tall and straight at the top of his salt circle, his hands relaxed by his sides. His hair was scraped up in a topknot today, drawn back off his face and highlighting his incredibly strong jawline and flawless cheekbones. I wanted to throw myself at him again, but instead, I snuggled down into the sofa next to Met. I was still very tired.
Alex stepped back from the sigil he’d drawn inside of the circle. He dribbled methylated spirits on the flagstones, and in a smooth, practiced movement, he snapped a match and dropped it on the floor.
Flames burst through the sigil, lighting it up like a beacon.
The blaze shot up towards the ceiling, filling the space inside. I could barely make out Alex’s features through the flames. My eyes drifted over to Nate, who was casting his own circle.
His own was ringed with salt just like Alex’s, but inside the circle was a smaller sigil, chalked in white, and a spiky chunk of clear quartz crystal. Nate stood at the top of his circle, arms outstretched, palms facing up, eyes closed, chanting in a low, vibrating tone.
It didn’t take long. The beam of light shot through from the quartz on the ground, spread out towards the edges of the salt, making a perfect cylinder of light shooting up through the roof. Idly, I wondered if it came out of the roof like a spotlight. I doubted any of the guests would worry about that too much. They were used to spotlights.
Nimue appeared first, rising up within the flames. She unfolded herself slowly, a huge, terrifying, but shockingly attractive figure. The fire danced around her body, shimmering down her arms, shaping themselves around her breasts, skirting her waist and flowing down around her legs like a glittering ball gown. Her thick, blood-red hair curled around her shoulder blades with superhuman smoothness. Sparks ringed her head like a crown. She looked like a Goddess.
As she rose up, Nimue spotted her son inside the circle, and she gave him a wide smile.
“My darling. It’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Mom.”
She waved her hand over the circle. The flames receded down her body, coming to rest, fluttering gently at her feet. As they disappeared, her glittery ball gown vanished. It was replaced by a black velvet tuxedo suit, sharply tailored, nipped in at the waist, with a shirt unbuttoned down to just between her breasts.
I gaped at her. I’d seen fashionable women here at Revelations all the time, but Nimue blew them all out of the water. “That’s better,” she murmured lightly. She tossed back her thick red hair and sighed with satisfaction.
A noise to her right made her freeze in her tracks. Suspicion clouded her lovely features, and she glanced over.
Nate had finished his incantation. In the bright-white light cylinder, three katadonis appeared, buzzing around like fat flies. Nate dismissed them with a low curse and a wave of his hand, and they left puffs of sparkles where they disapparated. In a deep tone, Nate called his father’s name. Slowly, the overwhelmingly powerful figure of Malach started to materialize inside the light.
I glanced back at Nimue, wondering how she was going to react to an archangel materializing next to her. Of course, she couldn’t see what was going on outside the circle, but when she heard Nate call his father, I distinctly saw her roll her eyes. With a little frown, she pushed her arms out to the side, manipulating some invisible force away from herself. Then she shook herself delicately, the way a purebred show dog might shake after a bath, and quickly hopped out of the circle, materializing in almost-human form right in front of me.
She gave me a quick wave, before turning back to watch Malach appear in Nate’s circle. “Hello, Eve, darling. How have you been? I hope you’re well,” she said absently, her back to me. She crossed her arms and waited, all her focus on the light circle.
“I’m fine thanks, Nimue,” I replied, acutely aware that her attention was elsewhere, but pleased that she was trying to be polite. “Thanks for coming to our little meeting.”
“What’s all this about, anyway? What’s with the get-togethe
r?” I could see her face slightly from the side, she was scowling. If I'd known better, I would say that she was nervous about Malach showing up.
He was taking his time. Nate was having trouble banishing all the katadonis that wanted to crash our party. “It’s a summit, of sorts,” I told Nimue while we waited, wondering if she was even listening. “Something weird is going on here, and I could use some help.”
Nope, she wasn’t listening. I could swear that I saw her bite the edge of her nails nervously before she shoved her hand under her armpit again.
The massive body of Malach rose in the light. He was muscular, bare-chested and twice the size of a normal man. He unfolded himself from the light, his starry wings sparkling behind him like the midnight sky. He stretched out slowly, and I marveled at every curve and bunch of muscle in his body. His wings were magnificent; they stretched out behind him, draping like a cloak and twinkling like starlight.
“Ah, Nimue…” I mumbled, gaping up at Malach. “Why don’t you have wings? I mean, if you’re all the same stock and breed, why does he have wings and you don’t?”
Met bounced up and down on the couch beside me. “Sweetheart,” he drawled. “You couldn’t fit wings into that divine suit she’s wearing, could you?”
Nimue whipped around to face us, shock all over her face.
Whoops. I’d forgotten we were supposed to be staying silent.
But Met just grinned and waved. “Hi, Nimue!”
I was nervous for a heartbeat, but Nimue’s astonishment turned to delight.
“Metatron! Darling,” she cooed, and rushed over to the sofa. “It’s so good to see you!”
Met bounced up off his seat and landed straight in her arms, cuddling into her like a puppy. “And you too, my little Jalapeno. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since… when was it?”
“It would have been the coronation of Cnut, I believe,” Nimue grinned at him.
“Oh, yes! I remember that!”
“I’m surprised you do, Met. Because you weren’t at the actual coronation, you were running the pie festival in the markets outside.”
Met grinned broadly. “That’s right! The steak, ale, and raisin won the competition three years running. Who would have thought that the judge would pick that one again?”
“You were the guest judge, Met,” Nimue laughed delightedly.
“Well, it’s my favorite!”
“Ah-hem.” The sound boomed through the room and chilled me to the bone. Malach, fully formed, arms crossed over his enormous muscular chest, stood staring at us. His eyes were dark pools, fathomless, and at the moment, icy cold. He glared at us, and we all froze for a half a second. “I apologize if I have interrupted you.” He raised one perfect eyebrow. “Nimue,” he said in greeting.
She nodded her head coolly at him. “Malach,” she replied smoothly. “If I had known you were going to be here, I would have…” she gestured to herself humbly, running her hands over her impeccable outfit and fabulous curves in a self-deprecating manner, before she snapped her head back up suddenly and met his icy gaze with fire in her own eyes. "Not come,” she snapped. “I would have stayed in Hell. The screams of the tortured souls are far preferable to your useless whining.”
Met giggled and nudged me. “Burn,” he whispered under his breath.
Malach glared; a deep rumble sounded through the room as if the very atoms that made up everything in the suite were grumbling along with him. “I, too, was unaware that you would be here,” he boomed. I shivered slightly, as the archangel haughtily moved his gaze over to the sofa where I sat. His eyes were like lasers, they shot through me and pierced me to the core. For a split second, I thought I saw confusion in his eyes, a slight furrowing of his brow, a little crinkle between his eyebrows. But his eyes were pulled to my side, where Met sat grinning beside me.
“Metatron.” I didn’t think it was possible, but Malach’s voice dropped several octaves. “You are here.”
“That I am, my friend,” Met nodded amiably.
“We have been looking for you.”
Met smiled serenely. “How come?”
“We were concerned for your wellbeing.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because you disappeared.” There was a touch of confusion in Malach’s voice. “We were concerned for your safety.”
“Oh, really?” Metatron met Malach’s eyes steadily. “Tell me, Malach. In all the time over the several millennia that I’ve been visiting Earth, have I ever come to harm?”
Malach looked sullen; as sullen as a twelve-foot tall sentient being could possibly be. “Not entirely.”
“Not ever, you mean. You’re concerned, as usual, with your own reputation.”
“Metatron,” Malach sounded exasperated. “You know as well as anyone that your actions on Earth bring you disgrace. Your behavior is not fitting of an archangel. An archangel should not be involved in human activities, especially ones that could be considered sinful. An archangel should not be entering hot-dog eating competitions in Prague,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “An archangel should not be helping open the world’s first beer brewery. And an archangel should not be caught on Earth celebrating at a fertility festival in Gaul.”
Met nudged me again. “That was a bloody good party,” he whispered, winking. “I slept in the forest naked for a week.” Louder, to Malach, he said: “Well, you should. You might loosen up a little.”
Malach glared. “We are archangels. We are here to guide humans to become better, not worse.”
“That’s not why we are here,” Nimue sang out in a bored voice. “Truth is, Malach, you don’t know why we’re here any more than I do. And you know what my theory is. We’re here to get humans to understand the light and darkness within themselves, to make peace with it.” She shrugged, an elegant rise and fall of her shoulders. “It makes far more sense than just bulldozing humans into not sinning.”
He glared at her.
“Guys,” Alex called out. “You’ve had this fight so many times over the centuries. Can we please give it a miss, just this once? We have things to discuss.”
Malach huffed out a breath. Stretching his arms out, his muscles flexed. I was momentarily gobsmacked by his rippling, bunching torso and bulging biceps. He pushed himself out of the circle, and landed next to Nimue. He was bigger than her, all brawn and terrifying menace. Whereas she looked elegant and mysterious, she appeared no less dangerous than he did.
He glared at her with more passion in his eyes than I’d ever seen before; there was hatred, contempt, frustration and... something else. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. In turn, Nimue’s eyes glazed over slightly, her pupils dilated.
Even I, a lowly human, was intrigued. They hated each other. But there was an extra frisson to their exchange that I just couldn’t put my finger on. I wondered if it was Nate and Alex’s friendship that put more of a strain on them. Their natural instinct would be to fight, I supposed, as mortal enemies usually did. But because their sons were best friends, I guess they’d been banned from smacking down on each other. They must be very frustrated.
Nate cleared his throat. “We wanted to call everyone together to get on the same page. Share information.” He grimaced. “Figure out a way out of this mess.”
“There’s someone here at Revelations who is stalking Eve,” Alex explained. “We need to find out who it is.”
Nimue pursed her lips. “She’s got a whole list of people who want her dead,” she drawled. “It’s not exactly a surprise.”
“Most of them have gone to ground, for now,” Alex explained. “If they got close to Eve, they would kill her immediately. No, there is someone here at Revelations who is trying to summon someone, or something.”
“Summon?” Malach’s eyes narrowed. His voice echoed around the room. “What do you mean, summon?”
“I found some circles,” I explained. “The first one, I wasn’t sure what it was. There was a dead bird inside a salt circle, with a lump of mic
a next to it. I found it in the tea-room behind the reception desk. It absolutely grossed me out. The next one was a ring of salt, and some ash and a crystal, so I knew it was a summoning circle.”
“Silly humans play-acting,” Nimue sniffed. “Those funny goths often like to try the things they read on the internet. The most they do is bring through a lost soul who might wreck the place before we manage to retrieve it. But that’s the worst-case scenario,” she shrugged. “They’re not so bad, the goths. They’re motivated, and I do love their aesthetic.”
“You would,” Malach growled. They glared at each other for a long moment.
I huffed out a breath. “It was definitely a summoning circle. But the combination was wrong. From what I understand, to call an angel to this plane of existence, you need a quartz crystal, a sigil, and an incantation. To call a demon, you need the sigil and fire.”
Nimue’s swished her long hair back. “Essentially, yes. That’s what most beings find the easiest route.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s just a matter of how much energy you want to expend,” she explained. “Or can expend. That’s why a human would never be able to call an angel or demon. They could get the combination right, but never have the energy frequency required to pull the entity through.”
“Apparently, I have that energy frequency?”
She nodded. “Because you are the Black Chalice. Now, if the human tried to call an entity, and got all the combinations right, the entity could very possibly expend their own energy to get through themselves. But they might be depleted to the point of not being able to hold their form together once they got here.”
“It’s like baking,” Nate explained. “You could get the right combination of ingredients for banana bread and mix them all together, but if you don’t have an oven, you’re not going to be able to bake the bread. You can ask the bread to bake itself, but it’s not going to want to do that.”
Revelations: The Fallen Page 4