Court of Nightfall (12 page)

And I fell backwards, unable to connect with him at all. My power couldn't penetrate him.

"What is this? Now you're attacking a Grandmaster? Is the impending death of your little boyfriend not enough of a warning, Miss Night? Are you ready to join him on the chopping block this week?"

I didn't respond. Didn't give him the benefit of seeing my rage. He waited half a second longer, then sneered—a default look for him, I was learning—and turned on his heel to walk away. I was left sitting on the stone hallway floor, the color drained from my face, my blood boiling under my skin. I should have torn out his throat that day. Should have pulled the trigger. Should have ended him when I had the chance. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

Unsure of why my powers weren't working, I ran to my Initiate room, which already had my luggage thanks to one of the soldiers who escorted me back to the Castle from the landing strip, and I collapsed onto my desk chair.

First, I double checked the encryptions I'd encoded in my new e-Glass, making sure the Order couldn't get through and track me. Then, I dug through my bags and found the rebel chip I'd taken from the dead rebel's e-Glass. I slipped it into my e-Glass and accessed the line, but wasn't surprised they'd given their signal a new encryption. It didn't take long for Evie to hack it. She was becoming almost as good as me.

When it was live, I pressed the button and spoke. "It's N," I said, heart racing. "I need your help."

As I waited for their reply, I used a knife to cut my finger and on the glass of my window I drew the stylized wings and sword. The symbol of the Nephilim. The symbol of trust. It shimmered with a glowing light and then faded into nothing.

Messages sent, I waited.

New York marched on. An immutable fact of history and present day alike, New Yorkers were a tough breed and no amount of Inquisition harassment, public executions and murder could keep them down. There still existed signs of the tragedy that had just occurred: impromptu memorials of flowers, pictures, gifts, left where loved ones died. You could tell the socio-economic class of the deceased by the foliage. The rich left exotic, genetically modified flowers with petals that shimmered with silver and turned colors throughout the day. The poor gave what they could, from wherever they could find it.

All of it broke me, but I pushed myself on, averting my eyes to the sorrow, protecting my heart from the memories as I scouted the location Zorin had given me to meet him. He'd sent an encrypted message to my e-Glass, by means I couldn't quite decipher. I had to admit I was impressed.

When I arrived I found a coffee shop, which surprised me. He was sitting at an outside table with a steaming cup of something in front of him. I joined him and eyed the cup. "Does our kind drink coffee?" I asked. I loved the stuff before all this, but so far not much appealed to my no-longer-human taste buds.

He pushed the drink toward me. "Try it."

I shrugged and took a sip, and nearly spit it out. "That is vile. What is it?" It was like drinking acid.

He laughed. "Coffee. You'll find some things still taste good, but most human food won't. However, it doesn't hurt to try to blend in and look human whenever possible."

I studied his chiseled face, his grey-blue eyes and perfect body, and choked back a sarcastic retort about how well he did
not
fit in as human.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

I nodded and followed him to one of the most rare sights in Manhattan. A parking spot. He waved at a red sports car and it unlocked using his scanned hand print.

When he opened the passenger door for me, I slipped in and sank into the leather comfort. "This is the newest e-Drive on the market," I said when he got in. "They aren't cheap."

He grinned. "No, they aren't."

"But you've been unconscious for years." I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "Where did you get the money to pay for this?"

He started the engine, bypassed the auto drive feature, and pulled out. "I've lived a long time in this world, Scarlett, and I've accumulated a massive amount of wealth. I've also acquired a decent survival instinct. I have safe houses throughout the world with stashes for emergencies. Today, I used one."

"Smart," I said. "Given how much you spent on this beauty, why aren't you letting it drive, since that's what it was designed to do?"

He shook his head. "I prefer to stay in control as much as possible. Less chances of ending up dead that way."

Our drive took an hour and led us to a long stretch of wilderness on the outskirts of Manhattan. He pulled up to a property that had seen better days, with overgrown weeds, debris littering the grounds and shambled buildings lining the entryway to the main building.

I looked up and smiled. This place was amazing. Even in its current state it was magnificent—an old cathedral that rivaled the Notre Dame and was made of black obsidian that glinted in the sunlight.

"What is this place?" I asked as we parked and got out.

"It belonged to the Nephilites. It was their main temple before the war. They believed Nephilim were gods. Angels returned to protect the earth and lead the people. They would offer their blood as sacrifice and erected this cathedral as a place of worship. They created a community around it, which is what those other buildings were for. Lodging, storage, barns."

"That religion is outlawed now," I said. "Anyone caught practicing is sentenced to death." I walked around, admiring the architecture as Evie pulled up footage of the cathedral before the war. I scanned the articles briefly. "It looks like this place was destroyed during the war and all the worshippers were hanged as heretics and traitors."

I stepped on something soft underfoot and bent to pick it up. A doll. Old, torn, weathered, but once belonging to a child who had lived here, who had played here, and who had ultimately died here.

"Do you believe Nephilim are gods?" I asked.

"No, I do not." His lips were set in a grim line. "But people should be allowed to believe as they wish and worship as they are led, as long as they do not harm others."

A memory returned to me, one I hadn't recalled in many years. I was young and the Nephilim War had just erupted into international news, but no one knew what the outcome would be. No one knew the devastation that war would cause for all involved on both sides.

I remembered sneaking downstairs one night to watch the news with my parents when I was supposed to be asleep. They showed a clip of several Nephilim in flight, their gorgeous wings outstretched, some blue, some purple, some bright gold or yellow, all captivating to a child who dreamed of nothing but flying.

My dad caught me and walked me back to bed.

"I want to be Nephilim when I grow up, Daddy," I told him as he tucked me in.

"Why is that, my little Star? They're the enemies."

"Because they can fly and they don't even need a plane. And besides, you always say that no group is bad, that individuals in any group make their own choices. Couldn't I be a good Nephilim?"

He smoothed my hair off my forehead and kissed it. "I suppose you could, Star. If anyone could, it would be you."

Zorin tore the boards from the front door of the cathedral and walked in, then turned to look at me. "This is where we will train."

***

"Wow, you're really just going to throw me off the roof of this cathedral? That's your brilliant training plan?" I stood at the edge and looked over the fields around us. The wind blew against me, and I breathed deeply of the fresh country air.

"Your wings are like a new limb. And like any limb, they are best first used by instinct. The height will motivate you… even if the fall doesn't kill you, it will hurt. Before we start—"

Without letting him finish, I ran to the opposite edge of the roof, building momentum like I would in airplane, and I jumped off the edge.

I didn't so much fly as I fell. And fast.

My heart raced in my chest, knocking against my ribs as if it could escape this fool body and find someone with better self-preservation instincts. But I knew I could do this. I was born to do this.

Come on, wings, do whatever you're supposed to do. Now!

I closed my eyes and let all my fear go. I focused on the feel of the wind, on the momentum of my body, on the sheer bliss of being airborne. I'd been flying my whole life. This was second nature to me.

It happened in a flash. First my shoulders burned and my back felt on fire, and then the air currents changed as my body expanded and grew new limbs. I opened my eyes and saw that I was racing over the ground, no longer falling toward it.

Joy, intense, visceral joy overwhelmed me. I turned my head and saw silvery feathers made almost of light shimmering at my back. I wanted to touch them, to feel their texture, but that could come later. For now, my wings and I were ready to soar.

I flew over the woods and dove toward a lake, letting my hand trail in the water and splash around me. I could see my reflection and the light of my wings in the water. I looked otherworldly.

Zorin joined me, his wings dark to my light. The night before, in the dark, I thought his wings were entirely black, but in the light of the sun I could see they had blue mixed in. I wondered how it would feel to touch
his
wings, to run my hands over them.

I blushed and pulled my eyes forward.

He chuckled as if he knew what I was thinking. "Let's see how fast you can go, shall we?"

He sped up, turning into a blur as he flew, and I pushed myself to match him.

We became sparks of light twirling through the sky. When he finally slowed down and let me catch up with him, I could tell he was impressed. "You surprise me, Scarlett. It's been a long time since someone has."

I grinned, still in flight, so very happy that I could almost forget the horrors of the last few days or why I was really there with Zorin. To train. To learn as much as I could in the next two days so I could save Jax.

"Now, let's stop," he said, and he hung mid-air, suspended as his wings kept him from falling. Like treading water.

Only I didn't know how to tread. Airplanes couldn't tread. At least, not the ones I flew. I kept flying in a blind panic as I tried to slow my wings to stop without falling out of the sky.

And instead I crashed into a tree and fell to the ground like some kind of miserable cartoon character.

He floated up next to me and reached out his hand to help me up.

"We'll work on that," he said, smiling a tad too brightly.

***

Zorin held a stick out to me and kept one for himself.

I glared at mine. "A stick? When do I get a fancy sword? Or even one of those wooden swords kids train with? Why a stick?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Because I don't have any wooden swords on hand, and you aren't ready for a real one. You'd end up hurting yourself and we don't have time for that.
You
don't have time for that."

I held up my stick, sufficiently scolded.

"Do what I do."

We parried back and forth, hitting each other's sticks as he spoke. "Nephilim swordsmanship originated in Greece, and the different forms are named after our different deities of the night. This is the Way of Nyx. She is the personification of night, and just as she stands at the beginning of creation, so does her form stand before all others. You must learn it before you can progress to other forms."

I hadn't realized that the Nephilim leader had been using the name of one of their deities. "How many are there?" I asked, trying to mimic his wrist movements.

"Seven in total," he said, blocking me and striking. "In time, I shall teach you all of them."

My muscles burned and my hand grew tired of holding up the stick. I dropped it to my side, halting our practice. "I'm not sure why I have to learn this. I already know how to shoot."

"Bullets won't kill a Nephilim, nor an Angel. You've seen that yourself. But a Nephilim Blade, like its master, can draw the life from its victim until there is nothing left."

I'd felt the power of his blade the night before, though less than a fraction of it I was sure. "When do I get one of those?"

He smiled. "Not until you're ready. A Nephilim Blade of your own is a great responsibility."

I held my stick back up and lunged. He blocked and parried.

"You're afraid I'll lose it?" I asked.

"I'm afraid of what you might do with it. Or what it might do with you." He stepped past my block and whacked me on the arm.

"Ouch! That hurt." I rubbed the sore spot.

"Not as much as a Nephilim Blade would. A Nephilim Blade craves life force just like a Nephilim… so if one is not careful… the blade will send them into a bloodlust, or, if no blood is to be found, it will turn on its master."

"You make it sound like it's alive."

"Not quite," he said. "I'll explain more later." He whacked me again on the hand and a red welt formed. "Focus."

I rubbed at the sting. "But how do you make it appear from—"

"Focus."

I hit his stick with mine, but didn't give up. "But how do you make it appear?"

He stopped our sparring, and silently began to collect sticks.

I huffed and I puffed but he didn't acknowledge me until I sighed and said, "Fine, I'll focus."

I trained hard, mirroring him, blocking, dodging, lunging. I figured if I could prove myself a good student he'd be wiling to tell me more.

At one point, he had me fight a tree with my stick, while he collected more twigs and sticks and made a fire as the sun began to set.

"That's enough for today," he said, his wings flickering behind him.

He'd had me train with and without my wings, so I could get used to the balance either way, but I found I loved having my wings and regretted that I'd have to keep them hidden while at Castle V.

So while we sat around the fire, I let my wings expand behind me, glittering silver moonlight in the darkness.

He tossed me a Life Force and we both drank, replenishing our strength.

I held up my empty packet. "Why do I feel better when I drink this and nothing else?"

"It's an application of Angel technology," he said. "They found a way to harness the actual life force of living beings in a way that can activate our own cells to regenerate. Not like blood, but close enough to get us by for a time."

I tossed my empty packet into his bag and tucked my legs under me, enjoying the warmth of the flames and the stillness of the night.