The Rephaim: Burn Part 5

He watches me, unflinching.

'And, Rafa'-I swallow, taste blood-'if you ever touch me again, I will end you.'

DISLOCATION.

'What the h.e.l.l was that?'

Micah leans over me and blocks the sun, blond hair like an aura spiking in all directions.

Rafa knocks my hands from his shirt and rolls over, lets out a small moan. 'Minor disagreement.'

Micah looks from me to Rafa and back again. 'How about I get you both to the infirmary before anyone else sees this mess.'

'Not the infirmary.' Rafa picks the shard of gla.s.s from his lip and winces. 'Get me to Zak.'

Micah hesitates for only a second. 'Fine.' He reaches for my wrist. We're in the vortex for barely a second, but it's enough to take the edge off the pain. Except for my shoulder-that's still screaming.

Zak is alone in his room, hanging from an inversion table. Rafa leans against the wall. I slump to the bed, refuse to look at him. Zak stays upside down for a good five seconds after we arrive; doesn't say a word. Then he slowly hauls himself up the right way. He takes in the state of Rafa, checks me over, and runs a hand through his s.h.a.ggy black hair.

'Demons?' He unhooks his feet and steps onto the carpet. The room is so much tidier than mine-Ez has always hated clutter-and smells of fresh cotton and orange blossom, a hint of liniment.

Micah gives a short laugh. 'They did this to each other. And Rafa needs a new window.'

Zak raises his eyebrows at me. 'That's extreme, even for you two.'

I ignore him. My shoulder is killing me.

'Right,' Micah says. 'If you finish taking care of Rafa, I'll get Gabe sorted.'

Zak nods and they wait for Rafa and me to speak to each other: an apology or at the very least a parting shot. It's how we'd usually walk away from a dust-up. But this isn't a bit of overenthusiastic sparring. This is so far beyond that. Out of the corner of my eye I see Rafa watching me, waiting to see what direction I take this. I ignore him, hold my hand out to Micah. 'Still in pain here.'

A small line creases his forehead. He flicks another quick glance at Rafa and then grips my wrist. We shift to his room and I immediately sit on his bed, wince at the pain radiating down my arm and across my collarbone.

'Are you going to tell me what that was about?' Micah asks.

'The usual stuff. Can you get this back in?'

He takes a good look at my shoulder. 'You know I've never done this before, right?'

'You've seen it done. You'll be fine.'

Rafa popped my shoulder back in two years ago after Zarael threw me against a brick wall. Rafa. Just thinking about him brings an instant spike in blood pressure. I hope Zak takes his time healing him.

Micah helps me lie down and then kicks off his boots. 'Sorry about the sock, but it's better than my bare foot.'

'I don't care about your stinky feet, Micah, just get my shoulder back in.' I turn my face into the pillow and breathe deeply. He takes my hand, gives it a rea.s.suring squeeze.

'Do you want something to bite down on?'

I shake my head and the pillowcase rustles. I focus on the acoustic guitar propped against the wall, the scuff marks on the scratch plate under the strings. Micah positions his foot in my armpit, gets a better grip on my hand. 'Here goes.' He pulls on my arm, slowly increasing the stretch. I grit my teeth, squeeze my eyes shut. Oh G.o.d, I forgot how much this hurts. The seconds grind by, filled with knives and needles. It's an effort not to shift to escape the pain. And then finally my shoulder slips back into place. The relief is instant.

'Hey,' Micah says, his voice gentle. 'You're crying.'

I wipe my cheek with the back of my finger. 'No I'm not.'

'I haven't seen you cry since we were kids.'

'I'm not crying. Let's shift again.'

He gives me a level look. 'You might want to throw in a please and thank you there somewhere.'

I sigh. 'Please, Micah.' My phone rings. I ignore it. 'Another shift or two should do it. Thank you.'

My phone stops. Micah's starts. 'It's Daisy.' He answers it, glances at me. 'She's here, why?' A pause. 'Okay. I'll tell her.'

I rub my eye. 'What now?'

'Jude and Nathaniel are in the piazza. Daisy says it's bad.'

There are at least sixty Rephaim cl.u.s.tered under Rafa's window in the piazza. Word travels fast at the Sanctuary. But it's not the broken window or the gla.s.s scattered across the lawn they're interested in, it's Jude and Nathaniel, facing off under a pale blue sky.

'About time,' Taya says as I move between her and Malachi. Heads turn in my direction, expectant. Micah and I shifted via my room so I'm wearing a clean shirt and my shoulder has settled to a dull ache, enough that I can hide the injury. Daisy visibly relaxes, as if me just being here is going to fix everything. I stand between her and Jones-I need a feel for what's going on before I jump in. They're both dressed in training gear, flushed, hair damp: they were sparring when the s.h.i.t hit the fan.

'Who?' Jude demands. 'You keep going on about how the archangels give you orders but who are we talking about? Michael? The same Captain of the Garrison who ordered you all be thrown to h.e.l.l in the first place?'

Nathaniel is calm, his icy gaze flickering slowly, patiently. 'The secrets of the Garrison are not for you, Judah. Not yet.'

Daniel and Calista flank the fallen angel. Daniel meets my gaze and there's no doubt what he's thinking: I told you this was coming. Jude has his back to me, feet planted and shoulders tense. He's holding something in his left hand, it's...an apricot brioche in cling wrap.

And, like that, I can guess how this all unfolded. Jude was on his way back with my breakfast when he heard about Rafa and me crashing through a window. Nathaniel must have heard too, and the two of them crossed paths coming to check on us. It was too much to hope they could avoid each other for even a day.

Mya is at Jude's side, mussed blonde hair falling around her shoulders and jeans too tight for anything except drawing attention. Anger stirs under my ribs. She flicks a look over her shoulder in my direction, dismissive rather than triumphant. She doesn't know about Rafa and me, but it's a bittersweet consolation. She's standing beside my brother, energised by the conflict. Ez catches my eye. Tense, anxious, silently urging me to do something. d.a.m.n it. If I hadn't been brawling with Rafa, this wouldn't be happening.

Rafa.

I rake the crowd and find him with Zak, pushing past Seth. They've just arrived. The sight of Rafa-healed, unbloodied-is like a hot knife between my ribs. He catches me looking, winks without smiling. The blade twists. I fight the urge to shift over there and break his nose.

Nathaniel sees me before he sees Rafa. 'Gabriella, good. Could you explain what happened here?' He gestures to the spray of gla.s.s around us. Jude glances my way and the tightness around his eyes eases a little. He might have Mya at his side but it's my support he wants right now.

'Rafa and I were sparring,' I say and shrug, as if he and I regularly smash through windows.

'In his room?'

'Close-quarters fighting,' Rafa says, drawing Nathaniel's attention. 'We needed the practice.'

'You need a bit more,' Jones says, pointing up at the shattered window. n.o.body laughs.

'Nathaniel,' Jude says, his tone flinty. 'Don't dodge the question.'

The fallen angel is still focused on me. 'Gabriella, perhaps you can talk sense into your brother. He appears no longer to respect the sanct.i.ty of the Garrison.'

'My brother has always respected the Garrison,' I say, stepping up next to Jude and avoiding eye contact with Mya. 'And a full understanding of the archangels' role in our lives will deepen that respect, not diminish it.'

Daniel makes a small noise of disapproval and Daisy frowns at me: this isn't what she had in mind.

'Why don't we settle this once and for all,' Jude says. 'Call down your captain. Let Michael tell us himself what he wants from us. And while he's at it, he can explain why our fathers have to go straight back to h.e.l.l if we ever find them.'

Behind me someone gasps; someone else swears-Malachi, I think. Nathaniel remains immobile. Rigid. Only his eyes betray him: the icy blue irises flare white.

'Trust me, Judah,' he says, his voice arctic, 'you do not treat the Captain of the Garrison as if he were a pet dog.'

Mya folds her arms, digs her fingers into her skin. 'What about Gabriel? He's supposed to be merciful. Summon him.'

'Do you forget, Mya, that the archangel of whom you speak executed two hundred and twelve nephilim? Gabriel may be merciful, but his mercy is tempered with justice. Do not give him an imperative to choose one over the other.'

We've heard this story a thousand times: a cautionary tale to remind us what happened the last time the Fallen fathered children. It's the first time Nathaniel has used it to directly threaten us.

'Maybe if you'd lost a child that day with the rest of the Fallen you'd share their opinion of the Garrison.'

I suck in my breath. Even for Mya, that's a low blow. We know Nathaniel fell, and we know his earthly romp didn't produce a child, but he was still thrown to h.e.l.l with Semyaza and the others. It's not something we bring up. Ever.

'You think you understand what it is you are asking, but you do not,' Nathaniel says, not quite as calm now.

'Because you've never explained it.'

'Let me explain it now, Mya, so there can be no doubt. You do not summon the Host of Heaven. The Garrison is not...acquiescent. The warriors you so desperately wish to face will kill you before you can draw breath to question them. They fight h.e.l.l sp.a.w.n that you have neither the experience nor the courage to imagine. Their war has been raging for thousands of years. You'-he sweeps his hand around the room-'all of you, are but the blink of an eye to them.'

'Then why do they care what we do?' Her voice is louder now. 'They've never shown any interest in us, so why do we have to prove ourselves to them?'

'Your value to the Garrison will be determined by your actions. When we find your fathers, your value will be beyond doubt.'

Jude scoffs. 'You and the rest of the Fallen escaped on their watch. It's not our problem.' He searches the faces around us. There's uncertainty. Agitation. His eyes meet mine. s.h.i.t, he's really going to do this. I nod and he straightens his shoulders. 'If you can't produce a member of the Garrison, Gabe and I are leaving.'

I blink. Not the bombsh.e.l.l about Nathaniel murdering our mother. This is actually worse: he's really ready to walk away. Am I? I'd be happy never to see Rafa or Mya again, but everyone else...I haven't had time to think about that.

'You are behaving like a child,' Nathaniel says.

'We've done everything you've asked of us-we're your own personal army, for f.u.c.k's sake!' Jude says. 'We have a right to know who's pulling our strings, and we have a right to meet our fathers before they're dragged off in chains again.'

'Enough.' Nathaniel's voice echoes around the courtyard. 'Cease this disrespect right now.'

'You say you're in contact with the Garrison. Prove it. Summon them.'

'No.'

'I mean it. Summon one or all of them. Let's take our chances.'

'No, Judah. I will not do that, now or ever.'

Jude stares at him. The tendons on his arms stand out, my breakfast pastry a crushed mess in his palm. n.o.body moves. n.o.body speaks.

'Then we're going.' Jude says it quietly and turns to me.

My heart knocks against my ribs. We're really doing this. Which means Jude is getting ready to lob our grenade as a parting gift. He looks to me again. I nod and- 'I'm going too.'

My heart freezes. f.u.c.k.

Mya.

'And me.' Rafa steps forward. No.

'Jude, don't be an idiot,' Daisy says, panicked. 'Where are you going to live? What are you going to do?'

'Whatever we want, that's the point.' Jude points at Nathaniel. 'What has he told us over the years? Nothing! He says the Garrison showed him where to find each of us, but how does he know it was them? And how did the Fallen break out of h.e.l.l in the first place? Come on, we've all talked about this...don't any of you want answers?'

Silence. And then: 'I do,' Jones says.

'Don't...' Daisy reaches for him as he steps away. Lets her hand fall. She looks at me, wounded.

'Does anyone else want to find out if there's another life for us?' Jude asks.

I see Ez slip her fingers between Zak's. They don't look at each other: they don't have to. They've made their decision. They walk forward together. More movement as others follow. Rephaim around them move aside, so there's no mistaking who's standing with Jude.

Taya walks right up to me. 'You're leaving? With her?' She stabs a finger in Mya's direction. Taya wasn't a fan of Mya before Malachi hooked up with her: even less so since Mya made sure he caught her with a random guy in an alley behind a Paris bar a month ago. Public s.e.x acts are apparently her thing.

'This isn't about me,' Mya says to Taya. She's standing between Rafa and Jude-so much shorter than both of them-chin up and eyes bright. She's loving every minute of the drama. 'This is about what it means to be a child of the Fallen. There's a life out there that's different to this one. I know: I lived it for more than a century.'

'And you've been here for all of eight seconds,' Taya says, lip curling. 'Don't act like you know what we're about.'

'I know that most of you wish you could take the fight to Zarael, not sit on your hands waiting to be attacked. Jude's not the only one who wants to know why our fathers abandoned us before we were born. Not all of us are sheep.' She levels a gaze at Daisy, sharp enough to draw blood. 'Why can't we meet the Fallen? We have as much right to them as the Garrison.'

Nathaniel takes a slow, deep breath. 'I know your fathers in ways you cannot. I have served with them, I was imprisoned with them for millennia. I know their rage. I know their obsession with the Garrison. Wherever the Fallen are-hiding or trapped-they are plotting. They are scheming. They will use your neediness to turn you against me, use you to bolster their ranks in their fight with the Garrison to stay out of h.e.l.l.

'You really think we're that naive?'

The fallen angel watches Mya for a long moment. 'Child, you have spent too long as an outsider. You do not know how to exist if you are not in opposition to someone or something. Semyaza will see that and mould it to his own advantage.'

His attention returns to Jude. 'Your only hope for redemption is to be accepted by the Garrison. Any attempt to interact with your fathers will destroy that possibility.'

Jude shakes his head. 'And yet again, we have to take your word for it.' He looks to me but Daniel steps between us and blocks him.

'Gabriella,' Daniel says. 'Look around. Your brother is about to take our best fighters out the door. It will leave the Sanctuary vulnerable. Can you live with that?'

I don't answer, but I don't move around him either. A breeze whispers through the pine trees beyond the Sanctuary.

'And if you go, how many others will follow you out the door? What does that mean for those left behind who aren't soldiers? What does it mean for the monks? Where is their protection?'

'For f.u.c.k's sake, Gabe,' Jude says, 'don't get sucked in by this bulls.h.i.t. If we're that important, Nathaniel will do what it takes to keep us here.'