Michael (The Mark) (The Airel Saga, Book 4: Part 7-8) (7 page)

There would be hell to pay, quite literally, for what he had done to the Brotherhood. In that sense he was in good company, for that was where Kreios had ended up too. He couldn’t pick a more powerful ally than that. Too bad the angel of El hated him. Michael chuckled bitterly at the absurdity of the idea; they would never be allies. It was impossible. Kreios was, truth be told, probably just saving him for last. Oh, he would have great fun with Michael. It made sense; it’s what he would have done were he in the same shoes.

He coughed and held his chest. There was the unmistakable iron taste of blood in his mouth. But it was time to go. Maybe he could sleep on the plane.

***

WE HAD ALL AGREED to meet in the lobby at 8 a.m.

Ellie and I sat by the doughnuts sipping black coffee.
I could murder for my coconut latte.
“Bleagh,” I said, scraping my tongue along the roof of my mouth like a dog eating peanut butter.

Ellie laughed, her spiky blue mane quivering in the rake of early morning light. “What’s the matter? Don’t like drinking off the bottom of the trough?”

“No,” I said. “I miss my Moxie.”

She smiled, bemused. “I’ve gotta take you to Europe some time. There’s this little shop in Rome that makes espresso that would kill you Americans with a single drop. And don’t get me started on Turkish coffee. Cor.”

I just shook my head and smirked. Ellie was a pretty fascinating person, I had to admit it. Why was I so reluctant to let my guard down with people?
Probably because they sometimes turn out to be made of newspapers and photographs and other things that are not nice. And then they try to kill you. I guess that’s why.
I rolled my eyes at myself.
Lighten up, girlie.
I smiled at that.

“Hey, Els,” I said, shortening her name in an attempt to bridge whatever gap I had engineered between us. “Can I say something?”

“Sho,” she said in her peculiar Aussie-ish Brit-like accent. “Fire away.”

“Well,” I began, feeling awkward. “I just want you to know that I’ve been … um … a real jerkhead to you at certain points … um, recently. And I’m sorry for that.”

She laughed easy.

“I really am. And I’d like to tell you thanks for all your help. With, um … everything. With Michael. I haven’t appreciated you like I should.”

“No worries, girlie. I knew you’d come round.” She rolled her eyes and smirked. “Eventually.”

I laughed. “Dude, can we be friends now? Sheesh.”

“Deal,” she said, and we shook on it.

I took another sip of what tasted like cigarette-butt soup. “Gawgh. What do they
put
in this stuff?”

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it’s illegal where I come from. Here,” she said, getting up and tossing a few little cups of French vanilla cream at me. “Try this.”

“Ugh, are you kidding? That’s like putting salsa on a turd burrito.”

She spit her coffee out, laughing, trying to catch most of it with her Styrofoam cup and failing. “Aw, look at that. Gross.”

We both fell over on our chairs, laughing like junior high girls joking about body parts. It was awesome. I felt like maybe this trip, this adventure, would turn out okay after all.

We were interrupted by Michael. “Good morning, ladies,” he said. “And I think you’ve probably had enough coffee already.”

“Howzit, mate,” Ellie said.

I smiled. I was glad to see him, glad to see he was in a good mood. “Hi. It’s really good to see you,” I said, hoping he could tell by the look in my eyes that I was as sincere as I could be.

“You too,” he said, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek.

My temperature rose by degrees, coloring my face. I could feel it. “Hey,” I said, grabbing his hand, “you really don’t want to try the coffee. I promise.”

He laughed as he sat beside me. “Okay, then.”

“And by the way, first things first. I’m really sorry if I’ve been horrible to you lately.”

He looked shocked. “If?” He held my gaze powerfully for a moment. Then a smile broke across his face. He was flirting with me. “All is forgiven, my love. And thank you.”

I just sat there and beamed. “So … you’re doing well today, then?” I didn’t want to broach the subject of Marc and having to bury the bodies of little boys, however demonic they might have been. I didn’t want to ask him about the Bloodstone that I knew beyond shadow of doubt he now carried. That he must carry, no matter how chipper he appeared to be. I was worried, but I let it go for now.

He squeezed my hand. “Yeah.”

I looked at Ellie and she gave a little tick of the head in signification of the affirmative. All was well. I was learning to trust, even if I didn’t know why Michael chose not to let me know about the Bloodstone. I loved and trusted him enough to know that he had a good reason for it. For now.

“Where’s Kim?” I asked.

“Speak of the devil,” came a voice from outside our little enclave. It was Kim.

She looked … well … sexy. That’s the only way to describe it. She was wearing a cute sundress and sandals, but there was nothing innocent or wholesome about her look. Sure, she looked well, but there was something just slightly off about her. It wasn’t necessarily a new look for her, either; I had known her to use it on occasion before. But it was a marked change from how Ellie and I had seen her in the room just a few hours ago.

“Wow, Kim. Glad to see you’re … you’re up,” I said, bewildered at how well-ish she had cleaned up. “I was just coming to check on you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now, so no need.” She yawned and stretched herself like a lioness, making the dress pull at her body and slide over her feminine curves.

I cleared my throat, embarrassed for her. “Coffee?” I thumbed over my shoulder in the general direction of the dispenser of hot brown industrial-grade paint thinner. I caught Ellie’s eye and shrugged with a grimace. What else could be next with Kim?
Welcome, Awkward Woman. Superheroine of the weird. Thanks for showing up to torture all of us with your undiluted and latently sexual oddness.

“Oh, thanks. Yeah,” she said, grabbing herself a cup and filling it to the brim. She took a sip. She growled with deep satisfaction, like she was selling breakfast cereal in one of those cheesy old TV commercials from when I was a kid. “Oh, man. This is
so
good.”

“Do you want mine?” Ellie said, and I kicked her, trying hard not to laugh.

Kim didn’t notice. “Oh. Hey,” she addressed Ellie, “Thanks for getting me my new bag, Ellie. I really needed one and I really like it.” She twisted around so we could see it. It was a bright pink backpack for elementary school girls, with an enormous Hello Kitty cartoon on it.

“Oh, you’re welcome, love,” Ellie said. “It suits you.”

Kim dropped her jaw and gasped in pantomime excitement. “I
know,
right?” She took another sip, gulping the coffee like a lumberjack.

Dear God, she is acting weird.

“Dude. Okay, who wants breakfast?” She was being just slightly too loud, and people were turning to notice the disturbance. “I do.” She raised a fist, shouting like a cheerleader, and then burst into maniacal laughter.

“Kim.” I hissed, grabbing her hand and leading her toward the front doors. “What did you do, bathe in whiskey this morning?”
And drink most of it?
“What is wrong with you?” I looked over my shoulder to Michael and Ellie, signaling them to grab our stuff and come along. The last thing we needed to do was draw attention to ourselves. I wanted to get us out of there like yesterday.
Please, God, just let us get on the plane and get out of here.

Kim skipped along, holding my hand like a six-year-old playing double-Dutch. Her ridiculous backpack knocked obnoxiously from side to side as we left the building.

“Jeez, Kim. Settle.”

“OHMYGOSH, I had the most weirdest dream, Airel. You totally have to hear about it.” She grabbed both of my hands and took a breath. “See, there was this guy walking down the street, and all along the sidewalk there were these ladders leaned up against the buildings, but he was like totally walking along, like, UNDER ALL OF THEM, and I was like holy crap, that is a lot of bad luck he’s rackin’ up. HAHAHAHAHA.” She bent over, cackling raucously at her funny joke.

I looked around desperately for a way out of this.

“Oy,” Ellie called from behind us. “Over here.” She was pointing to an old brown pickup truck sitting at the curb, idling. A large man stood by the door with his arms crossed, smiling. “Pile in,” Ellie said.

Before I could move, Kim sprinted for the man, going boldly right up to him and introducing herself with plenty of posturing.

He must be twice her age. Gross.
The man walked her politely to the passenger side door like a gentleman and saw that she was seated before closing it.

As he was walking back around to the driver’s side, our paths crossed and he introduced himself. “Hex,” he said with a gregarious, engaging smile and a crushing handshake.

“Airel,” I said, withdrawing my hand to brush my hair out of my eyes. I looked behind him to see Ellie and Michael tossing our bags into the bed of the truck.

“Don’t mind this old banger,” he said, gesturing to the pickup. “Necessity produces strange bedfellows.” His smile was broad, revealing a wall of gleaming white teeth.

“Okay,” I said, a little confused.

“That’s Hex,” Ellie called to me as she hopped into the back.

“Yeah, we met,” I said, skirting around him toward Michael, who then traded me places and introduced himself, getting his metacarpals crushed in turn.

“He’s my pilot.”

“Oh, cool,” I said. Michael then came back and, like a gentleman, helped me up and in. I let him think I needed that, for him. I grabbed one of the wheel wells as a seat. Rusty chains and bits of straw littered the bed of the truck.

“He makes instant friends wherever he goes,” Ellie went on. “Quite useful, really. He could get a perfect stranger to write him into their will, I swear. That’s how he got us wheels to the ramp today.”

“Nice work,” said Michael.

I couldn’t help but smile. It was a perfect sunny day, the birds were singing, it was still early, and we were riding open air in the back of a farm truck to the airport, getting ready to fly to someplace totally exotic, somewhere I had never dreamed of. I was excited. It was easy to let Kim’s weirdness slide for the moment. Besides, she was sitting up front with Hex and chatting
his
ear off.

Then it occurred to me: With the mood Kim was in, we were sure to get kicked out of whatever restaurant we decided to patronize for breakfast.
Not that there’s much choice here …
“Um, hey, Els? Where are we headed?”

“Brekkies,” she said.

“Yeah, not a sit-down place, though?” My face communicated the worry I felt as I jerked my head toward my slightly insane BFF in the passenger seat.

Ellie only laughed and pointed in the direction Hex was driving us.

I looked and saw my old childhood buddy: The golden arches of McDonald’s.

“Thank God for Mackers,” she said. “And drive-through windows, right?” She laughed, and I couldn’t help but join her.

Maybe everything will turn out right in the end. Maybe, after all, it really will.
I suffered myself a smile as I reached across to hold Michael’s hand.

CHAPTER XI

“THIS IS A G550. Top of the line,” Hex said, motioning to a big private jet as we all dismounted the faded brown loaner truck. “It’s in a class of its own, really.”

“Cool,” I said. I didn’t have a clue about aircraft. Nor did I have much
desire
to have a clue about aircraft. All I knew was that it looked very fast and very expensive, as if it had come from a world that existed for some people in reality, and for people like me only in storybooks. That my world was beginning to overlap that world was pure thrill for me.

I cast an excited look at Michael, who smiled at me. “Dude, this is unbelievable.” I sounded dorky, but then, who cared? I watched as another guy, who was evidently a member of the crew, took our bags and loaded them. That is, except for Kim’s new kiddie bag, which she wore over both shoulders and from which she refused to be separated.

“That’s my co-pilot, Bishop. He’s a Zulu man, very good at what he does.”

“Howzit?” he greeted us from a distance over the din of the idling jet engines.

Hex stood at the base of the ladder and motioned us toward him. “All aboard,” he said. “Make yourselves at home, please. I just have a few checks to make and then we’ll be on our way.”

I looked at Ellie, who gave me her little nod and motioned me aboard. Of course I couldn’t beat Kim to the punch. She tromped up the stairs like a football player. I followed more sedately, but hardly less excited. I just hoped Kim wouldn’t white-trash herself too much and embarrass both of us.

Inside it was all leather and wool carpets and exotic woods and technology. Lap-of-luxury stuff. Amazing. I turned back to Michael with a wowed expression. He returned it with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

Kim was being annoying, touching everything and rambling on. I wasn’t really listening to her. I sat in one of the enormously comfortable chairs and looked out the window. The farmer, at least that’s who I guessed it was, had come for his truck, and Hex was out there talking with him. It wasn’t much of a conversation as far as I could tell, with Hex, a towering black man, basically shouting into the ear of a wizened old salt-of-the-earth onion farmer and clapping him on the back. They laughed like old friends.
Dude. He is good.

Ellie, who had been waiting nearby for the two men to finish their conversation, approached Hex and gave him a side hug, her little blue pom-pom head vanishing briefly in the crook of his massive arm. She was too cute. I decided I liked her. Having greeted her friend, she bounded away from him, jogging toward the plane. She crested the stairs gracefully and ducked in.

“What do we think?” she asked.

“It’s sooooo rad,” Kim said in admiration.

“Glad you like it.”

“Can you, like, watch movies on that thing?” Kim asked, pointing to the massive display screen at the head of the cabin.