Undone (The Reaping Chronicles Book 2), page 17
Lucas glanced back over his shoulder to where the tree stood, then back to Cecily. “It’s right next to my family’s graves. That’s why.”
“I was standing behind that tree, Lucas. Your attention was pulled to it because I was there. I tuned into your thoughts to see if I was right, though the couple of hours you followed me around town had pretty much cemented my suspicion as fact.”
“Why would I be drawn to you?”
“Because we’re now the same.”
“I’m nothing like you.” Even as Lucas said those words, however, he felt what she said was true.
But . . . how can we be?
“Do you want me to answer that question?”
It agitated Lucas that she’d once again heard his thoughts. His fists opened and closed as they hung by his side. “Sure. I’ll listen to your theory.”
“When I tried to kill you, I failed to because you’re Nephilim.”
“I know that.”
“So, that meant the only other option for you was to become more like me because you didn’t die. You turned, at least partially. A good part of you is now Qalal.”
“Yes. I’m well aware of what you’ve done to me.”
“But you don’t know that your blood, the Divine part of it, altered me, too. I’m now walking around with Divine blood in me. A Qalal can’t kill anyone with Divine blood, Lucas. And had I really thought it through that night, I wouldn’t have even tried to kill you. But I guess it just sort of didn’t register for me. Because while I knew drinking Divine blood would kill the Qalal, your blood wasn’t purely Divine. I didn’t think the risk of me dying from it was there. Turns out I was right. Sort of.”
“What do you mean, and why aren’t you dead?”
“I mean, while it didn’t kill me, it almost did, and I spent several weeks in so much pain that I wished a thousand times that I would die. And I’m not dead because part of your blood was still human.”
“The number of times I’ve wished death for you is at least double that, Cecily. Only I’ve wanted to kill you myself.”
Cecily stared at Lucas for a long moment. “Lucas, whether you like it or not, that night we became the same. You have Qalal and Divine blood coursing through your veins now, not human and Divine. And so do I. We’re the only two of our kind walking this planet now. So, I know you’re drawn to me . . . because I’m drawn to you. Like attracts like.”
Lucas wanted to argue, but he could see how she was right about them—they were the same, and unique unto themselves—so instead he turned and started walking back to his Jeep. He felt Cecily following him.
“Leave me alone, Cecily,” he yelled back to her as he got to his Jeep and opened the door, turning to her before he got in. “We might be alike, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”
“Right,” she said as she came as far as she must have felt safe to and stopped. “Like I said, though, I can tune in to you—to your thoughts.”
“Yeah? Well, join the club. Anything with Divine blood can. It doesn’t make you so special.” Lucas turned back to get in the Jeep.
Cecily smiled. “Yeah? Well, since I can read your mind, I know how consumed you’ve been with getting revenge on someone other than just me. You want vengeance for what Javan has done to your family . . . to you.”
That turned Lucas’ attention back to Cecily completely. He glared at her, hating that she was yet another creature that could invade his privacy, though now that he knew she could, he’d learn to block her. “What about it?”
“I can help with that, Lucas.” Cecily started walking backwards back up the hill. “And I think that does make me special. And, by the way, I’m not so sure that you can learn to block me from reading your thoughts, at least . . . not completely. An angel can . . . sure. But not a Qalal.” Cecily winked at him as he closed the door and started his Jeep. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to get one last look at her because . . . like she said . . .
He was drawn to her.
Chapter Thirty-four
Javan ~ Barriers
A frustrated, guttural growl came from Javan’s throat as he continued to test whatever invisible barrier there was between him and where Cecily and Lucas had been talking in the cemetery, but no matter what he’d tried to do, he couldn’t penetrate whatever it was, he’d even tried going over it. He wanted to at least get close enough to hear what was being said between them, but he couldn’t. Their words were too far away—too muffled.
Rage surged through him as Lucas began to drive away. He was so close to being able to get to him but couldn’t because of whatever the protection was that was around him. He should have known when he saw Lucas leaving his house without Gabrielle or any other angel, that finally getting the opportunity to kill him was too good to be true—he should have known they wouldn’t let Lucas go without some way of keeping him safe.
Now he watched Lucas as he drove away. He didn’t follow. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to touch him, even spit on him, because of the protection granted by Yahuwah—protection Javan had no hope of ever having again for himself. As Lucas’ Jeep rounded a corner and drove out of Javan’s view, his attention returned to Cecily, who was now standing in front of Emma’s grave. That’s all she did, from what Javan could tell—simply stood there and stared down at a tombstone.
“What’s she doing?” Javan whispered as his curiosity grew, then reached out his hand to test the invisible barrier. Instead of stopping just a foot in front of him, he was able to stretch his arm out fully.
Javan took several steps forward, wanting to get closer to Cecily to confront her about what she was doing with Lucas, and see why she was so intently staring at the ground that covered a decaying corpse of a dead human who was once an angel. But he didn’t go to her, thinking it’d be more advantageous to keep the fact that he’d followed her and had seen her talking to Lucas to himself.
Deciding it’d be better for Cecily to remain unaware and realizing he needed to make sure she didn’t see him or sense him now, Javan removed a different sort of barrier and opened a portal in the earth. He let himself drop beneath the surface and down into the uppermost levels of the Underworld, something he hadn’t done in a very long time.
As soon as the portal closed above him, he regretted the decision. In front of him stood a demon, but not just any demon—this one made no secret concerning how much he disliked Javan.
“Hello, Lek,” Javan said.
Lek stood before him, towering over Javan. His size alone made Javan uncomfortable, but it was more than his height that made Javan so wary of him. It was the way Lek looked—no . . . glared—at him. It was as though he could shred Javan into a million pieces if he wanted to or split his mind open with those onyx eyes of his, and read every thought, desire, or disappointment that Javan had ever experienced in his angelic, or demonic, life.
“Javan,” Lek said as he took a deep, assessing breath. “What brings you down here?"
Javan took a step back. “Has Ramai put a border patrol in place since the last time I came down here? If not, it’s really none of your business why I’m here.”
Lek closed the space between them again, looking Javan up and down slowly as he did. Javan could tell by the smirk that showed his gnarly teeth that Lek wanted a fight.
“Ramai is always curious as to why someone like you,” Lek looked him up and down once more, “is coming down here when your kind don’t make it to the depths unless they’re trying to make some sort of trouble for him.”
“So, I guess you’re more of Ramai’s henchman now. Interesting. I’d taken you more for the independent, rebellious type. Not one who liked to follow a leader. Especially on such as Ramai. Besides, I am like you, Lek. We’re both fallen, so we’re both demons now.”
“We’re all rebellious down here, Javan. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be here to begin with, would we? And, as far as you and I being alike, we are only so by the fact we were once angels. We differ in every other way. Your kind don’t come down here. You stay topside like you’re better somehow than the rest of us. That’s why I said your kind.” Lek studied Javan for a long moment before continuing. “As far as the role Ramai has me in at this time, that’s truly none of your business.”
After several moments of a non-verbal standoff, Javan nodded and side-stepped Lek. Lek might not like Javan, but he couldn’t keep him from entering the Depths if he chose to. It was open to any of the Fallen to use as refuge or escape from whatever they needed to get away from on the surface. Regardless, Javan didn’t take a breath until he was quite a few steps away from Lek and he didn’t feel his energy following. Just as he was about to turn down one of the many snaking paths of the Underworld, Javan finally breathed in a deep, lung-filling breath.
“I’ll be watching you, Javan,” Lek called after him.
Javan flipped him off without turning around as he turned the corner, taking him out of Lek’s sight. He shook his head slightly and expelling the breath he took as a long, slow sigh as he did. He wasn’t particularly worried about Lek, considering Lek wasn’t any more powerful than he was, but he didn’t want any more eyes on him than necessary. If word got back to Ramai about all Javan intended to do, it would be a real problem for him.
And Ramai was definitely someone Javan was not looking for a fight with, because unless Javan was able to wield the power of the Book, Ramai would end him in less time than it took to take a breath.
Chapter Thirty-five
Nate ~ Ramai
Nate sat in the chair on his parent’s front porch, staring across the street as the bone-chilling air seemed to pierce his bare arms with a thousand tiny needles. He didn’t know why he was even sitting there. He’d been compelled to come outside over a half an hour earlier and he followed that desire. Why he didn’t put on his coat before he did was both a mystery and a nuisance now that he sat shivering. He knew he could go back in and get it or go back in and simply get out of the cold, but he stayed, seeming to not be the one calling the shots at the time. That feeling seemed ridiculous to him when he started to experience it the first time many years ago, but the more he had it, the more he wondered why he seemed to not be the one in control so often.
At times, like now, he was aware of what was going on and even seemed to have some level of control. Other times, when he had those holds, he would lose time like he’d blacked out. Though he knew when the latter happened that he was still functioning like he was completely aware because he’d never be questioned by anyone when he came out of whatever abyss he’d been in. He’d simply be back in complete control and totally aware of everything he was saying and doing, but with zero recollection about what had transpired or how he’d gotten from one location to another if he’d found himself in a different place or room. He couldn’t keep count of the occasions he was about to talk to Nonie or Lucas about it, but in the end he didn’t because he knew he’d sound crazy.
Truth be told, though . . . he did, in fact, feel crazy sometimes.
Lately, however, the pull to do things he couldn’t explain the need to do happened more and more frequently, and he now realized that the pull was always toward Lucas. It was like he, or some part of him, was obsessed with trying to keep an eye on him—always wanting to know where he was and what he was doing, who was with him and how he was getting along with them. He was particularly intrigued to know how things were going with Lucas and Gabrielle since the day Emma and Chloe had died. But he also wanted to stay away from him, not wanting to share his space because of the anger he felt about his little sister’s death.
A crow cawed from a tree on the edge of the yard, capturing Nate’s attention. When he looked at it, he saw there was more than one. He counted ten in total, although one in particular drew his attention. He and the crow locked eyes. Nate didn’t know how he knew they had with the crow being too far away for him to see his eyes clearly, but he was sure of it. A shiver traveled the length of his body as the crow lowered its head as if to say, ‘Yes . . . I do see you’.
Dread filled Nate the longer they stared at each other, and he suddenly realized that the air around him had chilled, making it even colder than it was before.
‘Stop resisting me, Nate,’ a voice sounded in his head.
Nate shot to his feet, his body now trembling from more than just the bitter cold of the early February air. Nate shook his head hard and scowled, as if doing so would force the invading voice out of his mind. He reached for the knob on his front door and began to turn it, desperately wanting to get inside and hopefully forget what had just happened.
‘That won’t work, Nate. I know you’re noticing something’s been off with you for a long while. That . . . something, is me,’ the voice continued. ‘But do you really think going into your home can keep me from you?’ I’ve been getting into your mind for years. Your house has never been the safe haven you’ve imagined it to be.’
“Who said that?” Nate said as he spun around, almost jumping when he turned and saw the crow he’d locked eyes with now perched on the railing of his front porch, looking at him with its head cocked as it cawed at him again. Nate shooed at it with his hands. “Go away.”
The crow’s head cocked to the other side, then began to dissolve into nothing more than a deep, dark shadow that could not have been a true shadow since the sun shone bright on the spot it ended at on the cement of the front porch. The air grew even chillier as the shadow began to grow in front of him. Nate backed into the door, frantically reaching for the knob. His heart beat so rapidly in his chest he had a fleeting thought that it might be working too hard and it would just quit.
Nate’s eyes opened wider as the shadow morphed into a human form and began to show the facial features of a man. His hand found the knob and he turned it. He’d been pressing his body against the door so hard that when the latch was released from its place in the doorjamb, Nate fell backwards into the house. He scooted back from the form that was now a man that stood in his doorway—an imposing, well-built man, who had a face that would cause most women to abandon any fear they may have of him because of the evil Nate could feel wafting off him and fall willingly into his bed. He was wearing a black three-piece suit that Nate could tell would be ridiculously expensive, with a black shirt and tie. The ensemble matched his hair and eyes . . . and the shadow he’d morphed out of. The man smiled, or smirked. Nate couldn’t really tell which it was because he couldn’t decipher whether the look in the man’s eyes was amusement or disgust. It struck Nate how disarming his smile was, even though he knew whatever was in front of him could do great harm if he, or it, wanted to.
“Hello, Nate.”
“Nate,” Nate’s mom said as she, his dad, and Nonie came around the corner. Nate glanced at them with what must have been terror in his eyes as he saw them look at him with concern.
“Run!” Nate shouted as he tried to get to his feet. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to move his legs, though.
“Son,” Nate’s dad said as he looked outside and then kneeled beside him, “are you okay?”
“What happened?” his mom asked as she kneeled on the opposite side of him. “Why are you on the floor?”
Nate looked at them, then at Nonie, who wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at the doorway.
Nate pointed at the man. “Get him away.”
Nate’s dad and mom glanced at the door.
“Who, son?” Nate’s dad asked.
Nate’s mom walked to the door and looked outside, then turned. All the while, the man stood and stared . . . smiling at Nate. “Sweetheart,” Nate’s mom said, “there’s no one there.”
“Yes, there is,” Nonie said, and the man’s attention shot to Nonie. “There is someone there, mom. He’s standing right next to you.”
The man’s brows pinched together, and he cocked his head at Nonie the way the crow had done to Nate. “Interesting,” he said as he raised and lowered his hand slightly. Nate watched as each of his family members collapsed to the floor like they’d been knocked unconscious.
Nate's heart dropped as he used the wall behind him to help him stand. He couldn’t lose them, too. “What did you do to them?”
The man looked back at Nate, the smile-smirk still in place. “Don’t worry, son. They’re fine. Just taking a little nap. I didn’t know your sister had . . . gifts, so I needed to make her less of a nuisance for a moment.”
“Gifts?”
“Yes, it seems that my glamour to remain unseen by anyone whom I do not wish to be seen by doesn’t work on your sister. Her name is Nonie, correct?” The man-thing stared at Nate, waiting for a response.
“Yes.”
“Yes . . . Nonie . . . All these years, I’ve not paid much attention to her. That’s going to have to change. I’ll need to keep a closer eye on her since she seems to have abilities no other human I’ve even encountered has.”
“Leave her alone.” Nate’s pulse was ratcheted so high that he really did think his heart would give out from the stress.
The man-thing laughed. “Dear boy, you can’t even keep me from affecting you. What makes you think you can order me to leave Nonie alone?”
Nate didn’t answer. He knew the man-thing didn’t need a response from him to know that Nate understood what he said to be true. Nate couldn’t protect Nonie, or his parents, from whatever this thing was standing in front of him. “Who are you?”
“I’m Ramai.”
“Shit,” Nate said, feeling like his stomach plummeted to the floor, taking the blood from his face with it. Nausea suddenly gripped his stomach, making it feel like its contents had bounced off the floor and sprung into his throat. Nate’s hand flew to his mouth as he leaned to the side. He couldn’t stop the bile from shooting from his body, though. He removed his hand just in time as the lunch he’d eaten a couple of hours earlier coated the wood floor and splattered on the walls. “Oh . . . God . . .”
