Dark One: One for Sorrow... (The Khiara Banning Series Book 1) (26 page)

Lisa seems surprised, but nods her head. “I forgot the Fae can sense things that most humans can’t. I guess your necklace helps you see that, Khiara. That’s why we think she’s still alive. Mom wouldn’t have left on her own accord, and the fact that this book came a week after her disappearance is even more evidence towards the fact that she
has
to be alive.”

Tristan scratches his head thoughtfully and after a minute of appraising the book, he asks, “What
is
the book anyway?”

“Well, that’s the thing. Only Sam can read it. For some reason it looks blank to everybody else.” Lisa twirls a piece of blonde hair around a finger for a second, and bites her lip; we share a nervous habit. “Sam,” she says, “read them the first page.”

Sam walks over to her, looking so young, so small, and he takes the book as if it weighs as much as a feather. “Okay,” he says, opening the book to the first pages.

His small voice suddenly seems much deeper, when he reads,
“The Rephaim race is the most pure in existence; it is the offspring of two of the Fallen. They must be guarded, as they are hunted for all they can do. Rephaim are the closest to God and should not theoretically exist, yet they do, and have the potential to change the world.”

“It’s a book all about what Sam’s kind can do,” explains Liam. “They can do everything angels can do, and more. They can bring things back to life. They have the potential to be like Gods. For all intents and purposes the Gods are aliens, and angels are creations of an alien race in the image of humans. But the Rephaim race is
native
to Earth. They are almost like Earth-born Gods. Do you know what Lucifer can do with this knowledge?”

“I can only imagine,” I breathe. “So who sent you this then? Samael went missing, and then a week later you get this book, and the cover is made from her wings
and
it just so happens to be about your son’s kind. That is not a coincidence.”

“We think it’s a warning,” Vicky says with a sigh. “Somebody must have forced a member of the Fae race to divine the future all those years ago after ripping Samael’s wings off, and found out that she would give birth to Sam. It’s the only way it makes sense, and it makes even more sense that they’d abduct her a while after Sam was born.”

Cara nods, “She’s right; my grandmother taught me a bit about the art of divining, though I’m crap at it since it’s not my element.” She looks at me sheepishly – I keep learning more about her than I thought possible, since I thought I knew everything about her.

“But,” she says, “the future is not always concrete; it’s all about chance, especially when it comes to birth. They must have been very advanced.”

Tristan says, “So then the question arises. Where is she?”

“That’s the problem isn’t it? We don’t know. We’ve searched, and even Sam has tried to find her, but he’s still young and we have to limit the use of his powers, lest he’s found and taken away.” Replies Liam, sadly.

“And that’s why I can’t help? Just ‘cause Mommy went missing and I can’t find her doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help if I can,” says Sam, “because I can help Khiara with what she needsta know!”

“No,” says Liam. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t hear any more of it, and this is the last we’ll talk about it until we find a way to find your mother,
without
you using any of your abilities.”

Sam puffs out a world-weary sigh, pouts, but nods his head. “Okay.”

I cough a bit and my head begins to pound with a slight headache, and sensing this, Sam looks over at me, his green eyes wide with concern. “You can still nap in my bed if you want,” he says.

“I’ll be okay,” I reassure him.

“You sure?” Asks Cara, who begins to study me as if I were some math test she needed to ace. “You look really pale, K.”

“I promise,” I say. But really, I’m not so sure I’m trying to reassure myself as well.

Twenty-Three

Cael is quiet when he finally emerges from the bathroom, his eyes swollen from tears, and his voice hoarse from the strain of crying. “I’m alright,” he says to nobody in particular, as he sits down next to Sam on the couch and pulls his nephew by blood in close for a hug. I can see the resemblance between the two now; the messy hair, the shape of their eyes.

He hardly says a word as Liam and Vicky explain their plan to awaken my soul. They will teach me as much as they know about the war, and Cara will help in any way she can now that she knows the stories her father told were true. They will show me how to fight against not only angels, but Nephilim too, and potentially even rogue Fae, though Cara thinks it’s impossible.

My soul will have to figure the rest out.

When we leave it’s snowing lightly, not enough to really warrant heavy jackets so we’re fine with our sweaters – everybody except Vicky who is now complaining about the cold.

“Tinkerbell,” she says, addressing Cara. “Gimme your sweater. You don’t need it anyway do you?”

Cara flails her arms dramatically. “Well no, not technically. But I love this sweater, it’s fuzzy and comfy.”

“And it’s mine,” I remind her, though I don’t actually mind since we’re always borrowing things from each other.

She rolls her blue eyes. “That is
beside
the point! It’s a sweater that I am enjoying the comfy-ness of. Damn it!”

“Oh just take it off,” says Tristan, peeling his own sweater off and rolling his own eyes. “I’ll give you mine.”

“Ach,” says Vicky, making a gagging motion. “You guys are sweeter than syrup.” But then she stops walking altogether.

“Everybody go back to the house,” she commands. “Now!”

All of a sudden, just as Cara is about to complain, growling comes from behind our car.

Cael, who’s been quiet since we left, narrows his eyes and looks around as if he’s sure there’s something he’s missing.

“
Camael
,” Vicky whisper-shouts. “You need to get your girlfriend inside; pronto.”

Cael nods and turns to me with panic displayed clearly on his face. “We need to go back in,” he repeats Vicky’s words, his voice still thick from crying and lack of use; I’m not sure.

Cael clears his throat. Nods. “Come on,” he says, taking my hand and leading me back towards the house.

All of a sudden the back of my neck tingles, and the feeling of being watched, that feeling I’d almost forgotten about, is like a punch straight to the stomach. Damien.
Douma
. He’s here.

The growling grows in intensity, and Cael breaks into a run, towing me along with him, Cara and Tristan not far behind us.

As soon as we reach the back door, he shoves me inside, and Cara and Tristan follow. He opens his mouth to say something to me, but an angry scream from Vicky stops him and he pushes me deeper into the house and slams the door shut, rattling the glass. He runs off at an almost unnatural blur of speed, disappearing around a corner.

“The house is protected,” says Liam from behind us, gesturing towards the living room. “Nobody can come in unless we want them in here.”

He gets out six cups, and puts the kettle on. “I’ll make some hot cocoa for everyone.” I sit down at the kitchen table, watching him get to work putting cocoa in each cup, carefully measuring out the right amount, putting some chocolate syrup into the smallest cup – Sam’s.

He looks at me with his piercing green eyes and smiles, so fatherly and kind. “You look like you could use some extra chocolate in your cocoa as well.”

I smile a bit. “That’d be great, Liam. Thanks.”

Ten minutes pass, and suddenly Cara is in the kitchen, terror on her face. “Hey, uhh do you want
him
in here? Cause he’s sure trying real hard to get in!” she shouts, pointing at the door where Damien is suddenly standing, bloody and dishevelled, fighting to open the door.

“Don’t worry about him,” says Liam calmly. “He can’t get in.”

Abruptly, Vicky is behind him grabbing him by the throat and squeezing savagely, yanking him away from the sliding door. She too is covered in blood, and her lip is burst and seems to be healing at a very slow rate.

“Get away from there,” Liam says gently, handing me my cocoa. “You don’t need to see this.”

Cara listens, and goes back into the living room, where Lisa is sitting on one of the couches, cradling little Sam in her arms while Tristan tells a story.

But I don’t follow, because I can’t see Cael and somewhere in the back of my mind, we’re still connected; but I can’t feel him there anymore. I didn’t know he was still there until…until he wasn’t. As Vicky and Damien disappear from sight, I begin to panic.
Where is he?

Before anybody has time to stop me, I thrust open the door as fast as I humanly can, and my eyes roam over Vicky and Damien, who are now fighting just next to the huge pile of fire logs.

When they land on Cael, lying on the ground unconscious, covered in dirt and blood, my heart squeezes painfully in my chest. The scent of burning hair wafts over to be on a breeze from somewhere and then I hear Damien scream in pain, only to be cut off into low growls.

He’s shifted into a dog, I realize. It probably speeds up his healing to change forms. 

I gag at the odour of his burnt hair.

Taking hold of my necklace, I close my eyes – then everything goes still and I’m running to Cael, running like I’m in a marathon sprint and I’m about to win. Details around me become fuzzy as I run towards him.

I kneel next to Cael on the dirt covered ground and assess the damage. He isn’t cut anywhere, but his cuts could have healed already which is good; they would have to be shallow to heal so quickly. The blood could be anyone’s and I pray to whoever cares that it isn’t his. Just because he can heal doesn’t make his pain any less real to me.

He looks so peaceful; he could be sleeping if he weren’t covered in blood, twigs, leaves and dirt, and if his clothes weren’t ripped to shreds and his hair dishevelled even more than usual.

I reach out to touch him, but that proves to be a mistake. As soon as my hand touches his face to move his hair out from over his eyes, I’m being pinned down by the biggest red fox I have ever seen, with very familiar blue eyes. Everything seems to still be frozen outside, so I momentarily don’t understand what is going on.

But then it speaks.

You idiot,
it thinks to me in Cara’s voice.
If you hadn’t have gone outside and done that weird time freezy-thing, which by the way doesn’t work on the people inside of the house, fun fact, I wouldn’t know I could do this. As cool as being a giant fox is, I really wish you’d have stayed inside. I burst out of my clothes for this shit.

I’m sorry,
I think back because it’s all I can muster. I cough and instinctively wipe at my suddenly runny nose.

She barks out something that resembles sarcastic laughter.
Get inside now. I’ll carry him in; just place him on my back. And then you’re going to have to un-freeze everything and let icky-Vicky do her thing.