Haze (11 page)

‘You still want to cling to the delusion they’re not getting information from someone?’ Rafa asks.

‘They always said—’

‘You say “revelation of God” again and I will headbutt you.’

Jason sighs.

‘Have you heard from any of them?’ I ask.

‘I tried to call Sophie, but she wouldn’t answer. But I do have something.’ He grabs a folded piece of paper from his pocket. ‘I researched the family this afternoon. Made an after-hours visit to the Des Moines Public Library and trawled through the local history collection.’

Rafa raises his eyebrows, mocking. ‘Seventy years after you met them, and now you go to the library?’

‘I know you don’t get it, Rafa. You’ve always been surrounded by Rephaim. I haven’t. I’ve known these women half my life. Other than my mother’s family, they’ve been the only constant. So I respected their wishes—’

‘Their threats, you mean.’

Jason sighs. ‘It doesn’t matter any more. Everything’s changed with that room.’

Maggie puts a hand on his arm. ‘Tell them what you found.’

Jason flattens the page on the bench. It’s covered in neat handwritten notes.

‘The library records of the property date back to 1866. It was settled by a German family around 1870. The father was a Lutheran Minister and he built a church there along with the original house. But the church was only sanctified for a few years.’ Jason turns the page over. ‘I found a reference to it in official records in 1876, by which time the church and the family had been cut off from the Iowa Lutheran Synod due to “unorthodox practices and heresy”.’

I think about the photo of a human-sized bundle in flames and tell him and Maggie about the journal I gave to Ez: the burial, and the photo of the gutted church.

Jason runs a finger over his notes. ‘The church burned down in 1939. A newspaper report called it arson, most likely related to the fact the family was German and the war had started in Europe.’

‘Or not,’ Rafa says. ‘Something’s missing here. They start out as Lutheran immigrants and then run off the rails not long after the Fallen do the rounds. They perform weird rituals out in the cornfield and spook someone enough that their church is burned down. And then what? The men just disappear? These iron bitches work out how to protect themselves from being forced to shift? They get floorplans of the Sanctuary, have someone take photos of all us and suddenly know how to build a room to trap us?’ He pushes Jason’s notes away. ‘There’s a leak at the Sanctuary.’

I wait for Jason to argue but he looks thoughtful. ‘That would make sense. How else would they know I’d never been there?’

‘But can’t Nathaniel see into people’s thoughts?’ I ask. ‘Wouldn’t he know if someone was betraying him? Wouldn’t he know about the women?’

Rafa shrugs. ‘Maybe someone found a way to hide it from him.’

I remember waking on the cold bed in the Sanctuary infirmary. Nathaniel’s voice: soothing, promising answers. The memory he found of Jude, so beautiful it hurt. And then the angel’s unmistakable confusion.

We sit in silence for a moment.

Finally, Rafa points to Maggie’s pendant. ‘Did you try it out?’ He looks at Jason and then answers his own question: ‘Of course not. Wouldn’t want to frighten any more pretty blondes today, would we? Well, someone has to. No point going through all this crap if it doesn’t work.’

‘Do we have to?’ Maggie asks. ‘I’d rather not throw up today.’

‘The plan is for you
not
to shift,’ I say.

Rafa moves around the bench. ‘Come on. I promise I’ll be gentle.’ Maggie manages a lopsided smile. ‘Don’t look so worried, Goldilocks.’

Rafa doesn’t have to hold Maggie close to shift with her, but for a second I think he will, to annoy Jason. Instead, he stands in front of her and holds out his palms.

She takes a deep breath, puts her hands in his and closes her eyes. Her skirt flutters as if there’s a breeze.

Rafa disappears.

Maggie shudders but stays.

She opens one eye. ‘Was that it? I could feel the pulling but then…It worked!’ She claps her hands and turns to Jason. He looks as though he wants to hug her. He doesn’t. I guess there’s still some hesitancy between them.

Rafa materialises next to me. ‘It’s nowhere near as effective as the room,’ he says, ‘but it’s strong enough that I couldn’t take her with me.’

‘So Jason was telling the truth?’ I give him a pointed look.

‘Jury’s still out. But the urge to punch him has eased a little. A drink would help.’

‘That’s fine,’ Jason says. ‘Talk about me as though I’m not here.’

Maggie half-skips over to the fridge. There’s a lonely beer on the top shelf. ‘Maybe it’ll have to be Rick’s.’ She pauses then turns to Jason. ‘Do you want to come?’

He smiles at her.

‘Sounds like a plan,’ I say. ‘Just let me get changed.’

‘I thought we already had plans,’ Rafa says to me, and I can see Maggie watching his reaction. Jason studies me with kind eyes. I look away. I don’t want his pity.

‘We do,’ I say to Rafa and head down the hallway to get changed. ‘Melbourne will still be there in an hour. A quick drink isn’t going to hurt.’

I close my bedroom door before I hear his response.

WHERE EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

Maggie and I share the mirror in the bathroom. I’ve changed into a silk t-shirt—a Christmas gift from her—and skinny jeans. She’s wearing a little black dress and wedges, her hair straightened and falling softly past her
shoulders.

I give up trying to get my hair to sit properly, and tie it back, then try to reposition my top so it covers more of the hellion scar. Maggie is biting her tongue. I know what she wants to say and I know she’ll say it, eventually.

She takes over doing my hair, pulls it out of the ponytail and ties another one at the curve of my neck so my hair falls over the scar.

‘So are you and Rafa fighting or flirting at the moment?’

‘A little bit of both.’ I turn away from the mirror so I can’t see my skin flush. I keep getting flashbacks to the beach earlier.

‘You could go south tonight if you wanted,’ she says. ‘You don’t have to come out if it’s going to cause more drama between you.’

‘It’s fine,’ I say, avoiding the real question. ‘We need to put in an appearance for Taya anyway.’

Maggie tucks her pendant inside her dress. ‘But I’m okay now.’

‘Taya can still hurt you, Mags—and she will if she finds out we’re gone.’

‘But Jason will be with me around the clock—’

‘Is he moving into your room?’ I tease.

She dips her chin. ‘Not…no…Gaby?’

‘What?’

‘Why are you putting off looking for Jude?’

My smile fades. ‘I’m not.’

She touches my arm, lightly, as if she expects me to pull away. ‘Are you worried you won’t find him?’

She waits. I run the tap, wash away loose powder clinging to the sides of the mottled basin. I really can’t look at my reflection now.

‘Oh, babe. I can’t imagine what this is like for you.’

Living this past year thinking Jude was dead has been unbearable. The thought he might be alive and I might never find him…I can’t even give that feeling a name.

‘The nurse is the only lead we’ve got,’ I say quietly. ‘What if we can’t find her, or she doesn’t remember anything?’ I focus on a crack in the powder-blue wall.

‘But what if she does remember?’ Maggie says gently. ‘What if she can help?’

My throat constricts. The other fear, the one I can’t hide from in the dark, leaches in. What if we find Jude and he hasn’t lost his memory? What if he doesn’t want to be found? I grit my teeth. I had no idea hope could be this suffocating. ‘I didn’t think it would feel like this.’

‘This isn’t exactly a normal situation, Gaby. Maybe you should go a little easier on yourself. I mean it. Don’t let Rafa rush you. If Jude’s alive—and, god, I hope he is—then taking one more day to feel grounded isn’t a bad thing.’

Grounded. When have I ever felt grounded? I use the hand towel to wipe out the basin and then hang it over the edge of the bath to dry.

‘Seriously, it won’t kill Rafa to show some patience.’

‘Yeah, because patience is Rafa’s strong suit.’ I give her a tight smile. ‘He’s right to want to get moving: we may not be the only ones looking for him.’

Maggie puts her arms around me, enveloping me in cherry blossom and Chanel No. 5.

‘I worry about you.’ She squeezes me and then steps back, hands me a tissue.

‘We’ll go tomorrow,’ I say. ‘I just need…I don’t know what I need.’

‘Have you told Rafa how you feel? Okay, stupid question.’ She pauses, then smiles. ‘Here’s another one: does he always smell that good?’

I manage to laugh and immediately I can breathe again. I smile at Maggie, push the dark away.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘He really does.’

Rafa and Jason are ignoring each other when we come out of the bathroom. I grab my keys and go out the front door without speaking to either of them.

Rafa’s annoyance is palpable as we walk down the hill to the esplanade. Maggie positions herself between him and me and chats with him all the way to the pub. It’s a temporary reprieve, but I’m grateful for it.

Rick’s is humming when we get there. Surfers, backpackers and locals sit around the wine barrels on the verandah. The air is heady with beer and chargrilled lamb.

Taya is behind the bar. She’s wearing a black t-shirt with ‘Rick’s’ stretched across her chest. Her hair isn’t tied back as tightly as usual. Make-up softens the sharp lines of her face. Or maybe she looks softer because she’s smiling.

‘Is she, like, happy?’ I say to nobody in particular.

Rafa makes a noise in the back of his throat. ‘She’s never been happy in her life.’

Taya moves back and forth, pouring beers, uncorking imported wines and mixing cocktails. She wipes the bar down after Rick and he nods his appreciation. Like Simon, Rick’s all gym-toned muscle and Japanese tatts, though he’s a few years older.

Simon is working alongside them, trying hard to ignore Taya. His cropped tawny hair stands up at odd angles as though he’s been repeatedly dragging his fingers through it. He’s a good guy. A
nice
guy. He doesn’t deserve to have Taya—or any other Rephaite—complicating his life.

‘I’ve seen enough,’ Rafa says. ‘If we really have to be here, let’s drink.’ He moves towards the bar.

Simon spots Rafa first and he heads to the other end of the bar. Taya is putting money in the till, her back to us. She turns around and breaks into a wide smile. I guess this is what Rafa means by commitment to cover.

‘See, Simon, I told you Gabe cared.’

Simon snaps off the beer tap with force.

Rafa leans on the bar. ‘Taya, I’ve seen Tibetan monks pull beer better than you. See if you can manage four.’

Taya measures him for a moment. ‘Coming right up.’

Her first pour is not bad and her second near perfect. She gives Rafa the better of the two. Never let it be said she doesn’t rise to a challenge.

‘Not too shabby,’ I say. ‘Maybe it’s time you retired those fists and opened up your own place in some seedy corner of the world.’

Taya brushes off the compliment and pours the other two. ‘Bigger fish to fry, Gabe.’

Despite the crowd, we manage to get a seat at the window overlooking the street. I position myself so I can keep an eye on the room. Rafa sits close, not touching me, but near enough to make me think about that kiss again.

Simon is mixing an elaborate cocktail, complete with shaker tossing. He empties the flask into a wide glass and pushes it towards a brunette in a low-cut dress. Taya saunters past and ruffles his hair, making him flinch. ‘Nice work.’ On the way back, she smacks his backside. ‘And nice arse.’

The brunette and her friends giggle. Simon smiles, embarrassed.

Rafa knocks his knee against mine. ‘Jealous?’

‘Disturbed is more like it. I can’t believe how well she’s pulling this off.’

‘She’s had a few decades of practice.’

I take a sip of beer and stare out at the streaky purple sky beyond the poinciana trees. Heavy clouds drift out towards the darkening horizon. I could almost pretend this is a normal Friday afternoon.

Rafa is still a little prickly towards Jason, so when Maggie offers to shout the next round I get up with her.

‘How about you two kiss and make up while we’re gone,’ I say to Rafa and Jason. Neither finds me funny.

We squeeze into a gap at the bar and wait to be served. Please let Simon reach us before Taya. If he can stand to be around Taya, surely he can serve me a drink? I make a crescent moon in the dregs on the bar, remember the feel of that shape on the nape of Rafa’s neck. The mark of the Rephaim. Maybe if I still had mine, I’d feel more of a connection to the Rephaim. All that’s on my neck now is a thick scar—made by a demon blade, according to Bel.

‘Another round, ladies?’ Taya places four bottles of beer in front of us. ‘Try these. Italian. Brewed not far from a certain monastery.’ She eyes me for a moment and then tips her head to where Simon is pouring a bright blue drink into a row of glasses. ‘Your boy’s good, Gabe.’ She winks at me.
Winks.
‘I understand why you couldn’t keep your hands off him.’ She takes the money from Maggie without looking at her. ‘He seems to have gone off you a bit, though. Must like his women a little more faithful.’

I smile at her, ignoring the crush of drinkers waiting to be served. ‘I’m not sure exactly how he likes his women. But if you keep your mouth shut and your fists to yourself, he might overlook the fact that you’re a cold hard bitch.’ I snatch up the beers and turn away.

I’m walking back to the window, smug, when my stomach drops. Rephaim have arrived close by. Rafa twists on his stool to look out the window. By the time I reach him and Jason, the drinkers under the verandah are making low sounds of appreciation.

‘Here we go,’ Rafa says.

I don’t have to look outside to know who’s arrived.

LADIES’ NIGHT

‘What?’ Maggie glances around.

‘Mya’s here.’ I set down the drinks.

She stares at me. ‘The Outcast you told me about? Do you know her?’

‘She was with Ez and Zak when they came to Iowa.’