Fire and Shadows (Ashes and Ice #2) (2 page)

3

GIOVANNI

T
he memories always
crept in, snaking their way around every thought. We were on a journey to find Lynx and it dragged me back to the mission that brought me to this Earth in the first place, all those years ago.

Lynx
’s home was a terraced house in town
.
I knew that he always settled in with the locals to avoid suspicion, but this... this ordinary brick-front home harboring something sacred and mystical, seemed wrong. Lynx was supposed to be in the sphere of Heaven where he could translate, archive and guard the Sacred Truths, but instead, he was on Earth playing fortuneteller and neighbor. It was irrelevant that he was in fact human—or at least had once been, before he had been chosen. That fact alone should have rendered him obedient. It didn’t.

I tapped on the splintered
wooden door.

Immediately, the
door opened on its own. I walked in to find Lynx at the end of the corridor, hands folded. “What do you want, Seraph?”

I knew I needed to be calm and collected,
and not let my true intentions be known. Not yet. Not until I could show him, convince him of the truth. “I’m here because I heard you have a new oddity in your collection.”

“
I have quite a few,” he said cautiously. “Are you going to try to take me back to Heaven?”

I lied. And when an
angel lies, it hurts. It hurt like a cold blade slicing into my throat, but I refused to let my pain show in my voice. “No.”

He relaxed.
“Well, then, come in.”

I didn
’t expect an invitation, but I knew I would be going in. “What of this girl? I’ve been hearing
…
rumors
,”
I questioned carefully; I couldn’t antagonize him.
It was known that Lynx, a guardian who had abandoned his post to seek this unknown denizen out, was somehow fond of it, protective of it. I couldn’t antagonize him. I had to know where he stood. I searched his face for answers, for a telltale sign of his intentions. Since he had been on Earth, his face had become worn and wrinkled, but there was something else different about him. His eyes swam with a depth, no longer the calm calculation of a guardian. The air around was alive.

“
Lynx, I am going out to see if I can find that little boy, okay?”

My eyes darted to the room behind Lynx, to the voice that echoed from within it. Lynx went rigid,
giving away his unease
..

“
Is that her?”

“
Who?”

I had to choose my words carefully.
“The young girl you saved.” The words felt foul in my mouth. An
angel
could twist words till they weren’t quite lies, weren’t quite truths and not feel pain. It did, however, still feel wrong, against our nature. “Young girl” made it sound that Lynx had actually done an honorable thing... saving someone innocent from demons. But, no
. He
had gone with the intention of unleashing one. And she was here, in a room just beyond this old man standing in the doorway. What had he been thinking? Why had he done it? The questions piled on.

Lynx stared at me for a moment, as if he was checking to see if the lie
’s pain was written on my face, to see if I was reaching for the restraints tied at my belt. Lynx’s answer was one curt nod, but I didn’t see the expression on his face, because just then, the person in the room stepped out into the hallway.

My muscles contracted in reaction. I wasn
’t sure if it was because I was bracing myself for an attack, or if...

A smile blossomed on her face and she stepped forward.
“Are you an angel?” There was a sound of sincere awe in her voice.

I blinked at her. Her eyes twinkled with delight
; her smile was a wide half-moon set into her delicate face. She looked at me as if I was something magnificent and glorious, something unreal. I swallowed. No one had ever looked at me like that. I lifted my chin, but didn’t respond. My fingers were twitchy and ready to lash out for my sword if she charged.

She raised her eyebrows, confused.
“Lynx?” She looked behind her. “Is he an
angel
?”

“
Yes, he is an
angel
.” The quality of Lynx’s voice had changed into something reassuring. He had always been a blunt, harsh man, and this voice of rushing streams and earth sounded foreign on his lips. “This is the Angel Giovanni. And I think...he has come to see you.”

Jade let out a nervous giggle. A giggle. I was feeling more bewildered every moment. When did a soul leech giggle?
“He came to see me? Why?”

She brought her eyes back to me, and I stared back at her. I opened my mouth and closed it,
my
thumb grazing the hilt of the daggers attached to my trousers. “I came to see if the rumors were true.”

“
Well, are they?” It was the first time that her smile faltered. She was testing me. I did not know what rumors she had heard...what she expected me to know. I could not tell her what I had heard.

“
From what I can tell, no. They are not true.” The slicing feeling cut into my throat. I was startled by it, because I had thought that I had said the truth, but then I realized the soldier in me was on guard and unbelieving. He knew better.

Jade smiled wider then. Lynx stepped forward and made a motion for me to come further into the house.
“Come in, Giovanni
,”
Lynx said. “I want you to meet the daughter of Heaven.”

I choked on a breath and glared at him
, and then at Jade. Angels couldn’t lie, but Lynx no doubt could. I wanted to hurt him for speaking such a wicked, disgusting thing. Then Jade skipped down the hall and took me by the arm; the feeling of absolute calm surged up within me and I stared at her smiling face. A demon’s trick. It had to be. I pulled my arm away from her and looked away from the hurt evident in her eyes. She pivoted back and I followed her, watching the swoosh of her long black hair. I tightened my grasp on my hilt and focused in on the energy coursing within me. I had
seven
days to return to the Gold City. I would have to make each one count.

The memory flashed before my vision and then spluttered out, bringing back into focus the dark wood and all its shadows. I didn’t like shadows. The Gold City didn’t have them. Yet
,
there I was
,
sitting on a wet log among the cold, rotten leaves staring past a fire pit with the same bewildering girl from all those years ago.

My hand almost went into my pocket, almost reached for that small dewdrop of memory; that tiny gold orb that felt like a cruel reminder of all that I lost.

It was then that I heard the sound, like a mallet to my skull, bang, bang, banging. The sound lurched inside me and screamed that I needed to let her go; that she was other, wrong, and weak. I glared at her. Her heartbeat.

Her heartbeat was a mortal sound and it was hideous. It was almost as toxic as the note tucked into my pocket, almost as painful as a seraph blade into my stomach, almost as ugly as the fact that I had made promises and dreams with someone who would never remember me.

Heart’s beat. I could only imagine if I had one, how broken it would be. The sound of Jade’s was a reminder to never want what you can’t have, and never dream
,
because dreams weren’t real. I stiffened, consciously building up the walls around myself. Life was for battle, for blood, for glory. I wouldn’t let a girl steal away my purpose again. I looked at her as she slept and then turned away when I realized that I did that too often, every night in fact.

I sat up straighter. I wouldn
’t fail the Seraphim again.

4

NANAN

Nanan sat on
the small twin bed in the attic. It was too soft, caving in in the middle. She considered maybe it was just her weight, which forced the mattress to give. She wasn’t sure. She just knew that another weight should be occupying it. She ran her fingers over the blankets. There were some tiny holes in places, faded print in others. How could she have let Jade sleep here? In this old bed, with these old sheets, with these old holey blankets? She tightened her grasp on the fabric before standing up.

No more wallowing. She crossed to Jade
’s dresser drawers and ruffled through Jade’s clothing, reached back to the corner, and pulled out a leather-bound dream catcher. She pulled it out and looked at the binding, running her weathered fingers over the old stitching. She’d had it tucked away for so long... an entire chest of hidden, blessed talismans in little corners of this room. This was the first one she had placed here. Jade didn’t even notice the night that Nanan had slipped into her room when she had been screaming in the dark. Nanan never mentioned it, and never asked about the nightmares because she knew what it was like to have them; she knew that some things were meant to stay secret and haunt the poor soul that it sought after. Still, she came in and held Jade as she flailed and writhed. She never woke up, but she did start to settle down against her large frame and breathe in slowly, deeply. That is when she had put the dream catcher in the room, in hope that it would catch the nightmares plaguing her thoughts, save her from them. It hadn’t. Nanan tossed the dream catcher in the trash angrily. She looked around the room and wondered whether any of the talismans stuffed into closets, floorboard, and dressers worked. She assumed not. It was her fault too; she blamed herself completely. She had hidden the talismans just out of precaution. She hadn’t whispered blessings to them or done any of the proper rituals; in her haste, she had simply pulled them out of the dusty chest in hopes that they still had some of the bayou magic from her mama still clinging to them. They used to work on her and her little sister. They had gone years without a single nightmare... that is until their lives had become one.

Holding on to the talisman, a
prickly sensation settled over her, followed by flashes of images tumbling into focus. Skull masks. Black smoke. Her mama’s intoxicated dance around fires. The smell of freshly killed dead things gaping open and bleeding out into swampy earth. The musk of the bayou. The slurping and ever-slow movement of the swamp. And then...her sister’s eyes. Eyes that dimmed and lost their light right in her powerless arms. Nanan caved and bent over, feeling a gut-wrenching pain in her stomach; a wave of nausea collided with her. She heaved in heavy breaths, shaking her head, trying to shake free of the memories.

Nanan
grasped at the dresser and pulled herself upright. She tore through the room, sprinting as fast as her weight would allow, yanking free the clothes and material that covered all of the voodoo tokens. They all had failed her. Failed Jade. She had failed so many people she loved. That is why she moved out here. Far away from the tin swamp houses and the knowing eyes. It had been Connor’s grandfather who’d had the mercy to find her a place. It was he, who had warned them. But they didn’t listen and they all paid for it. This house was supposed to be a sanctuary from past pains, but now it harbored new ones, fresh and gaping just like the birds that used to be split open and pinned down on the earth all those years ago. Fresh and bleeding. The tokens were precariously balanced in her arms as she left the wrecked room, just as wrecked as her life felt. She tipped the chest’s top open with her foot and let everything tumble inside. She glared at it all. Miserable relics. She wasn’t sure if she could truly step back into that life of smoke and blood and terrible things, but she would if she had to. She would if it would save her Jade.

Jade
’s lovely face flickered in her mind. Her tanned complexion and bright green eyes had been so familiar. She knew from that first day she would protect her. She just didn’t know how much protecting that girl would need. She swore under her breath, remembering another set of bright green eyes. Another thing dead and gone. Nanan wasn’t a woman who cried. She was strong and steady like an oak, but just as she found Jade—afraid of drowning on the pier—she was afraid all the sorrow that swelled in her heart would burst through like a broken levy. She was afraid of drowning. She stood over her chest of past pain and nightmares and wept until she had no tears left.

5

JADE

I clawed at
the mass on top of me, scratching at his face. He squeezed my throat, his eyes sharpening.

“
Fight. Fight!” His voice was a lilting growl that rumbled our bodies, a pressure that rattled my bones. Black spots invaded my vision as my lungs fought for oxygen. I thrust my hips forward as he had taught me in an effort to gain some momentum to move out from under him. He pulled himself closer and squeezed me between his thighs. My strength faltered, my hands losing purpose in their thrashing motion. I fell limp under him; there was no more fight in me. I searched Giovanni’s face, hoping he could see my own look of surrender, hoping that he was capable of a fraction of pity.

He roared, releasing me and slapped me across the face so that it whipped sideways and I could see the wet moss underneath us, the dreary grey day smothering us into the earth.
“Don’t you dare faint on me, weakling!” He stood up and the air rushed into my lungs. My body was a recurring shudder, afraid of opening its eyes, afraid of breathing, afraid of standing, because it would only be a moment before he had me panting in pain again.

“
You are never going to impress the Seraphim with your pathetic skills. They will never allow you to join their ranks. And, we will never survive Hell’s circle and save Lynx if you can’t even survive a fighting drill.”

The disgust etched into Giovanni
’s face made me feel like a small, insignificant thing among the rotten leaves, like a petal-less flower wilting into uselessness. I curled into a ball as coughs racked my body. I saw the kick coming a second too late; it slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I rolled over and pushed myself up to my hands and knees.

A choked, unfamiliar voice rasped out of me.
“Has…anyone…ever…told…you…that…you’re insane?”

Giovanni
was soundless. He circled me, predatorily. He wasn’t finished with me yet. He wouldn’t be until sundown, when the Angel’s power weakened because of the darkness. The sun was an orange—plump and juicy in the sky—promising pain for many more hours. “No. I have been told that I am the best soldier in all of Heaven. I have been told that I have trained the most lethal assassins and fighters. And because of that,” his smooth expression winced for a moment as he grit out, “I am here training you.”

I looked at Giovanni. Dozens of blocks, kicks, and punches raced through my mind, but the faint feeling that nagged at me whispered that there would never be enough time for those moves to make it to my hands or legs, that my body was too sluggish to move at all.

Giovanni didn’t advance. He stood perfectly still and stared back at me. My shoulders heaved up and down with each breath, my breath hitching on oxygen and pain. I tasted blood. Seeing him, a still and perfect statue, made me feel even more incompetent, even more ridiculously inept, and I nearly plopped back onto the ground. I didn’t. I stood tall and faced him. My knees nearly buckling underneath me.

I could feel my body slowly recuperating, cuts closing, bruises healing, my breath evening out.
I watched as my skin knit back together and the bluish tint to my skin turned pink and then tan. I sighed as I rolled my shoulders back. Giovanni’s gaze threatened pain. My thoughts snagged. Why couldn’t I just be a regular girl? Why couldn’t I be back in Louisiana with Connor’s arms wrapped around me? Why couldn’t I just be a nobody who blipped off the radar and lived a long life full of smiles, gumbo, and laughter? Instead, I was me. A half-breed demon who had to save the people she loved. I squared my shoulders, feeling steadier on my feet. I had much to prove. Too much. But there was too much at stake and I could not crumble, could not give up.

Connor was waiting. I shivered remembering the slacken look on his face in the hospital bed—just a breath away from death. The absence of him made me feel empty and alone. He was my light-filled man, my Connor, and I had to go back for him. I had promised.

Then there was Lynx. The old man who held me and whispered he was sorry in my ear. The old man with a voice like crashing waves, and eyes full of wisdom. The old man who saved me, loved me, and because of that, stole all of my memories. Lynx was somewhere deep in the center of Hell being tortured by my mother.

The
Seraphim were also waiting. Waiting on their champion, a warrior to join their ranks, and here I was—a helpless wreck who could barely fight against one unarmed angel.

And then
, finally, the world…the world was on the verge of collapse. And when it did…if it did…angel wings and nightmares would cover the earth with their wrath.

Too much. Way too much.

I didn’t wait for Giovanni to say attack or to make the first move. I clenched my fists and hurdled forward, my worry, pain, shame, and determination fueling my strength. I could not be on the defense. I had to be the warrior, because if Giovanni was right, war was coming. And we could not lose.