The Mark of Fallen Flame (Weapon of Fire and Ash) Page 8

  “Shall we?” Rowek motioned toward the pathway around the waterfront. She nodded, looking around. They were the only two people around.

  The sky was gray, the sun receding within the dark clouds. It was almost eerie, but Rowek looked unfazed.

  He shoved his hands into his jean pockets as they started along the boardwalk. Docked boats creaked as they rocked, water slapping against the sides.

  “It’s probably going to rain,” Emma observed, awkwardly trying to fill the silence.

  “Not afraid of a little rain, are you?” His tone was light, but something about his rigid body language made the heaviness in her chest expand.

  “No.” Emma looked away from the docks toward the street in the distance. A mother hurriedly pushed her stroller, casting nervous glances at the sky as if trying to anticipate its first drops.

  Emma’s hands itched to fish her phone from her backpack.

  “Chill, Emma, I won’t let it rain on you.” Rowek grinned as if he could truly prevent the impending deluge, and Emma forced a smile. Relax, she told herself

  “Did you hear about that bar just south of Seattle?” Emma asked, spouting the first thing that came to mind.

  Rowek’s brow rose. “No, what happened?”

  “Everyone inside was dead, and the wiring was completely fried.” Emma relayed the information her mother had shared with her that morning. She had almost refused to let Emma go to school at all until Emma had convinced her mother that it was far enough away and that most schools were practically fortresses these days.

  “Crazy,” Rowek said. “What do they think happened?”

  “Well the news says the building was struck by lightning, but some people are saying it’s aliens.” After the creatures she’d encountered in the alley, aliens almost seemed logical. Rowek paused his walking, his smile a mocking slash of white.

  “And what do you think?” he asked. His honey-brown eyes pinned her to the spot, demanding an answer.

  She sighed, choosing her words carefully. “I think there have been a lot of strange things happening lately.”

  “But aliens, though?”

  Rowek’s tone made her release a laugh.

  It did sound ridiculous; but so did flesh-eating creatures that hunted in the shadows, weaving illusions to trap their prey.

  “As fun as discussing the news is,” Rowek resumed walking, “I’d rather talk about you. What kind of music do you like?”

  “All kinds, I guess. Except for country…” Emma mused while looking back out at the bay, watching the seagulls soar through the air, spying their next meals. Her stomach felt like it was trying to work its way up her throat.

  “What’s your favorite?” he pressed.

  Emma bit her lip and Rowek’s brows shot up, then he groaned.

  “Oh no, it’s rap, isn’t it?”

  Emma laughed, “No, it’s not rap.”

  “What is it then?” he asked, his eyes alight with amusement.

  “It’s rock,” she muttered with a nonchalant shrug. “Some old, some new.”

  Rowek chuckled. His laughter, again, made something inside her stir. Like a slumbering animal twitching when its master spoke. She looked away from his face, knowing hers would be flushed.

  “Okay, favorite band?” he asked, smiling. “Please don’t say Demon Hunter.”

  “As I Lay Dying. And there is nothing wrong with Demon Hunter,” she argued.

  One moment Rowek was walking beside her, the next he was in front of her, stepping back as she walked forward. She stumbled a step, unsure of how she had missed his movement.

  “That’s a little heavy for you.” He ignored her bemused expression.

  “No it isn’t,” she countered in spite of herself. His grin grew, something sparking in his eyes that made Emma’s heart skip a beat.

  “Definitely didn’t picture you as the screamo-loving type.”

  “Okay, what’s your favorite kind of music, then?” Emma retorted.

  Rowek sighed dramatically. “Well, while I can get into the whole head-banging thing, I’m more of an AC/DC, Metallica type guy.”

  “Respectable.” Emma nodded. She inhaled the salty breeze that swept along her face, trying to loosen the knots in her stomach.

  “Favorite movie?” Rowek asked. He turned back around and was walking beside her again, but this time he didn’t seem to disappear and then reappear like before. Had she imagined it?

  Emma thought for several moments, narrowing the choices down in her head. They stopped at the end of a dock, looking out over the Sound. The saltwater sloshed against the wooden posts, the briny scent thick in the air.

  As Emma opened her mouth to answer, a familiar jingle that could make any child giddy made them both turn.

  “Ah, ice cream truck.” Rowek gave her a wink. “Be right back.”

  Her brows shot up. It was far too cold for ice cream. “It’s okay, I don’t need—” Emma started to say, but Rowek cut her off.

  “My treat, I’ll surprise you.” He had begun jogging up the grassy slope to the street before Emma had time to protest further.

  She frowned at his retreating form for a moment before turning to face the bay again. She loved the sounds of the water. Loved the mystery hidden within its dark depths. She sat on the edge of the dock, her feet dangling above the almost black surface. In the gloom, it was impossible to see more than a few inches deep.

  A dark shape rose near the surface just under her feet. Emma leaned forward, trying to make it out. An invisible icy dagger ramrodded into her lungs. Gasping, she clutched her chest, and scooted herself back. She brought her legs up and stood, her knees knocking together. Her eyes scanned the area for Rowek, but he was nowhere to be seen. And so was the ice cream truck.

  Where had he gone?

  The ambient temperature plummeted, her breath curling in front of her in wispy white puffs. A shiver racked Emma’s body as she wrapped her arms around herself.

  She took a few steps toward the road, then stilled. The water behind her bubbled and gurgled. Fear sliced through her as she slowly spun on the spot just in time to see a sickly green, webbed hand grasp the dock. Emma froze in place, the weight in her chest making her breaths come in short, labored pants.

  The creature pulled itself up. It had scaly skin. Seaweed hung off loose and chipped scales. It stood on two legs with webbed fins that resembled and acted like feet. Stringy, black hair hung from its bulbous head, its face pointed and amphibious in appearance. It stared at her with one entirely white eye and one pure black.

  It took a floppy step forward, its fin smacking the wooden planks. Emma shrieked, backing away. When she turned, three more creatures, all identical, blocked her only way off the dock.

  “Rowek!” she screamed, hoping he, or anyone, would hear her.

  More bubbling broke the surface of the restless sea to her right. Emma turned just in time to see another creature begin to pull itself up. She spun. She was blocked in. Emma’s eyes frantically searched for some way out. She remembered her backpack on her shoulders and mentally ran through its contents. Nothing helpful, unless I can stab one with a pencil or lob the whole bag at one of them to try to knock it down, she thought to herself. Anxiety threatened to choke her as they all drew closer.

  She thought back to the night in the alley. All she had to do was touch the creature, and it died…or dissolved. Hoping to buy herself time to get close enough to one without the others attacking her, she spun her bag onto her chest. She unzipped the pocket as soundlessly as she could manage, then began rifling blindly through its contents. She grabbed a textbook and a pencil. A makeshift sword and shield, she thought grimly.

  Not wanting the extra weight, she let the bag fall by her feet. She knew how to defend herself in a human attack, but she had no idea what these creatures were capable of—how strong or fast they w
ere. Their size might be an advantage, she considered. They were all roughly equal in height to herself.

  She pivoted around, a mechanical pencil held firmly in her grip, the textbook hugged to her chest with her other arm.

  As one stepped forward, a gap appeared, and Emma made her move. She lunged, thrusting the pencil at the nearest creature. The pencil cracked in half, the impact knocking it from her hand. It swung a webbed hand, narrowly missing her face as she ducked. Grasping the book tightly, she brought it up in an arc over her head. It hit with a wet squelch. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw its other arm swinging for her. She braced herself for the cold, slimy touch of a fish as she dropped her last weapon and clasped her hands around its arm, still crouched on the ground.

  The surge of foreign energy jolted into her. It filled her veins, her muscles, her bones with a strength that made her want to roar. She looked up, its eyes bugging out of its head. A grin that felt out of place split her lips.

  The creature’s scaly flesh turned black. Ash rained down on her. Through the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, she heard the other three monsters clicking and burbling. Communicating?

  She stood, ready to take on the others when she felt something she hadn’t before. It was new and not. Something to wield and control. Within her mind, she reached for it, and it told her what to do.

  She spun toward the scaly face on her left. It stepped back, fear widening its mismatched eyes. She lunged, latching her hands onto either side of its face, not noticing that they were now the same temperature. The power inside her released.

  The creature made a choked sound as water bubbled up out of its mouth, revealing several rows of tiny, needle-like teeth. She cocked her head to the side in equal parts fascination and giddy amusement.

  Apparently fish can drown too.

  In her peripheral vision, dark green figures advanced on her. More creatures lifted themselves onto the dock. Slick hands wrapped around her arms in a bone-crushing grip, tearing her away from the creature’s face. She howled at the rumbling sky; at the monsters that broke her contact with her prey.

  Though they touched her, their power no longer fed her.

  Every ounce of energy and strength was leeched from her system. In its place, cold seeped into every fiber of her being. Her lungs filled with a salty, bitter fluid. She coughed, fighting to break free of the grip on her. Panic grew as she tried to breathe. Her lungs constricted, trying to expel the liquid. Water sprayed from her mouth, but air still evaded her.

  She couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t focus on pulling their power into herself. Only water filled her.

  Stars danced in her vision as her body grew slack. She couldn’t scream for help nor beg for mercy. She was drowning from the inside. The creatures that surrounded her grew blurry. She felt vaguely aware of more finned hands touching her, filling her with water until she dropped to the dock. Her forehead connected with the solid wood, but there were no sensations beyond the burning in her lungs. The pressure in her head. Even her skull was swelling with water. A balloon ready to burst.

  Darkness started to close in on her, and she welcomed it. The pain eased. She heaved once, expelling the water from her lungs. Her head lifted. The creatures backed away from her, but they weren’t looking at her. They were staring behind her. She choked out more water, her lungs stinging as she gulped down fresh air. Her head fell and her eyes closed. Exhaustion consumed her.

  Shouts and sounds like sickening squelches rang out, but her eyes wouldn’t open. Her ears still felt waterlogged, but she could vaguely hear sizzling, and at last wet thumps. She tried to move her arms to roll herself onto her back, but they shook in protest.

  A large, masculine hand flipped her over in one smooth movement. She willed her eyes to open. They fluttered until finally, they split just wide enough to see a young, handsome face staring down at her. A few black curls hung across his forehead. His gray eyes that scanned her for injury, looked as threatening as the sky above.

  “What the hell were you thinking? Are you stupid?” Blaze shouted at her, accent thicker than she had heard it before. Emma blinked, stunned. Why was he mad? She hadn’t asked for those creatures to attack her. She hadn’t asked to be nearly drowned. Sheer defiant anger gave her the energy to respond.

  “Wow, asshole much?”

  “Apparently walking up to strange men isn’t risky enough for you. You get into random people’s cars too?” His look of disgust made a burning sensation claw its way up her throat that was unrelated to the amount of saltwater she swallowed.

  “Wait, what?” Was he talking about Rowek? “I’d have thought the green fish people were slightly more concerning.”

  His eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “Yes, and where is your so-called friend now?”

  The blond guy she had seen with Blaze stopped at the edge of the dock, twin daggers fisted at his sides. “There’s no sign of him, he must have masked his scent somehow. Jake and I will keep looking, he likely won’t want to leave her for very long.”

  Emma felt the urge to burst into laughter. The seriousness of his words was lost to the sight of a grown man carrying knives like some ancient warrior.

  “I’ll join you as soon as I’m done here,” Blaze called. He raked a hand through his hair, drawing it back away from his face. When the blond took off, Blaze looked back down. “Can you sit up?” he asked.

  Her limbs protested as she tried to push herself up. A steady hand slid to her upper back, guiding her into a sitting position.

  “What were those things?” she asked. Blaze gave a dry, harsh laugh. His eyes were scanning all around them.

  He moved his intense stare to her. “Does your mother know what you can do?”

  She swallowed, then winced. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw what you did. I couldn’t see your face, but for a moment you terrified them. Very little terrifies them.” His voice was low as he held her gaze.

  The way he looked at her, suggested he was not afraid of her. But she had seen terror in those creature’s eyes too. Their power was—

  She reached for it.

  Gone.

  The absence of their power to drown someone from the inside left a gaping hole inside her. An ugly emotion unspooled that she immediately forced down, hoping Blaze couldn’t see it on her face.

  “I don’t know what I did, but it wasn’t the first time.” She looked down at her hands as her eyes burned.

  Am I a monster too? There had to be something wrong with her. The greed for their power, the hunger for their death…it could only mean she was something far worse.

  “When?” he demanded.

  “Last Sunday. My friend and I were walking home when we were attacked. They were different though. They were tall and shadowy and—”

  “Did they make you see things that seemed impossible?”

  Emma’s head snapped up. “Y-yes.”

  Blaze nodded, then sighed, running his fingers through his damp curls again. “It’s better if you know,” he muttered, more to himself than to Emma. “They’re part of a race called the Shediem. Humans have created names for them in their lore. ‘Demon’ is the most common. They come in different shapes and sizes. The lower ranks are all you’ll usually find. They’re the foot soldiers if you will. From the sound of it, I’d guess the creatures you faced last week were Nybasses.” He gestured to the slaughtered corpses on the dock. “And those are Nickor.”

  Emma blinked. Hysterical laughter built in her chest until it overflowed.

  Demons? Emma believed in a higher power but never gave much thought to a supernatural realm. Laughter erupted from low in her belly—the events of the last week that she had kept to herself released in a torrent.

  Her savior scowled. Her chest tightened as her laughter turned into a fit of coughs. She wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to catch her
breath. Blaze scanned the area again, searching for something.

  When Emma fell silent, he said, “Finished?”

  “Demons aren’t real,” she replied in a raspy voice.

  Blaze rolled his eyes. “And yet, you can clearly see these aren’t what you’d call normal.”

  “But…” She huffed in exasperation. “Wouldn’t that mean there are angels and god and whatnot?”

  “Yes, though their interactions on Earth are rare. That’s why I’m here. There are hordes of Shediem that exist in this city alone, and it’s my job to send them back to their realm.” Emma opened her mouth to reply, but he continued. “I know it’s a lot to process, but the fact is, you’re a part of this realm whether you like it or not. In fact, no one has ever been able to do what you did. When we cut them down, we simply send them back. It buys us a few months. But what you did…I think when you touch them, you kill them.”

  Emma didn’t answer. His words stunned her. Angels and demons—Shediem—not only existed, but she was the first person in history to kill them? Her head gave a painful throb.

  She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “What does that make you then?”

  “I am a Giborim,” Blaze answered with ease. “A descendant of a Fallen One from ancient times. Thousands of years ago a large number of Fallen Ones roamed the Earth and had…relations with human women. They impregnated them and created abominations like me. The one you call God, rid the Earth of most of the offspring with a flood, but some survived. We’re faster and stronger than humans, which make us perfect soldiers.

  “The Shediem have been waging war on the humans since the beginning of time. The Giborim that remained after the Purge were allowed to exist, as long as they didn’t breed with humans and kept the Shediem in line.”

  Her eyes widened. He was a descendant of fallen angels. “How did you know where I was?”

  Blaze seemed to consider whether he should answer at all, when at last he said, “Let’s just say, I’m looking out for you.”

  “Why?” Then she recalled that he had known her name without her giving it. “Is that how you knew my name?”