Shimmer: The Rephaim Book 3 (10 page)

Simon’s bed squeaks. ‘The demons want you,’ he says to me. ‘You said it yourself.’

Jude closes the distance to Simon in three steps, gets right in his face. ‘You want to hand my sister to demons?’

Simon leans as far back as he can to get away from him. ‘No, of course not. I’m just saying—’

‘Even if she had what they wanted—which she doesn’t—that’s never going to happen. You keep talking like that and I’ll ask Ez to drop you straight back to that camp. See how you go on your own.’

The colour leaches from Simon’s face. ‘Bloody hell, give me a break. I just watched demons hack Mick’s crew to pieces.
Demons
.’ His voice cracks.

‘You weren’t the only one there,’ Jude says.

‘Yeah, but it’s different for you—you’re one of
them
.’

‘Which means nothing if I don’t remember how to
be
one of them,’ Jude snaps. ‘If I did, maybe I could’ve been more help in that fight.’

‘Hey.’ I pull him away from Simon. ‘Don’t even start with that crap. We’re swimming in the deep end doing the best we can. What happened on that mountain wasn’t our fault.’ Although even as I say it, I’m not sure I believe it.

‘It’s my fault if I’m the one who changed our memories. Made us less than what we should be.’

‘What did you say?’ Daisy stares at Jude. ‘You did this?’

‘We don’t know that,’ I say. ‘It’s a theory—based on pretty flimsy evidence.’

Daisy is about to press the issue when her phone vibrates. She stabs at it, impatient. Reads her screen.

‘Okay, we’ve got company.’ She turns to Ez. ‘Get your crew to the chapterhouse, and then nobody moves from there without orders.’

My skin chills. ‘What is it?’

Daisy jams her phone in her back pocket. ‘Demons at the gate—literally.’

KNOCK, KNOCK

The wind up here chills me bone-deep. Or maybe it’s the view. I’m on the roof of the Sanctuary looking down on Zarael, who’s at the edge of the trees. My heart’s going like a road drill. Has he brought a body? A head?

I bite the inside of my lip. Remember to watch where I put my feet.

Keep your shit together.

The leader of the Gatekeepers stands forward of two other demons, long black hair blowing away from his face. He’s all angles and scars. The last time I saw him he was centimetres from me, breathing sulphur into my face—a heartbeat before Ez shifted with Jude and me to the chapterhouse. I’m three stories above him now. It’s nowhere near far enough.

The other Gatekeepers are disturbingly uniform, with their black trench coats and long white hair. Even from up here I know that’s Bel closest to Zarael; there’s something about the way he stands, the tilt of his chin. Which means the demon on Bel’s other side is most likely Leon. Why are they here? Did they bring Rafa? The forest fades.

Jude takes my elbow, steadies me. Everything sharpens again.

‘Thanks.’ It comes out in a plume of vapour.

We’re on top of the westernmost wing of the Sanctuary, lined up with the Outcasts. The smell of pine needles, cedar and wood smoke cuts the air. Steady wind gusts stir trees older and taller than the monastery. We’re rugged up, gloved fingers clutching cold swords. The roof pitch is steeper than it looks from the ground and my calves are already aching from the effort of staying upright on the grimy terracotta tiles.

The demons have seen us. I know because they’ve turned their faces skyward and I can see flickering orange eyes.

‘We’re about to find out if Nathaniel’s wards cover the roof,’ Zak says to nobody in particular.

I change the grip on my sword. ‘Why are they here?’

Ez shakes her head and her plait swishes on her black ski jacket. ‘I have no idea.’

I glance back at the demons and then try to get my bearings. The roof we’re on extends more than a hundred metres in either direction, forming one side of the elongated Sanctuary compound. Behind us is the piazza I can see from my room. Further north is another collection of wings and courtyards where I think the infirmary might be. To my left, a huge tree sprouts out between buildings, taller than the Sanctuary. This place is the size of a university. The chapterhouse is at the opposite end, closer to the mountains. Where we should be. We skipped the briefing: we had our own in Jude’s room. And as soon as Daniel sets foot outside he’ll see us up here.

Jude touches my elbow again. I follow his gaze to the line of trees. A hellion lumbers up behind the demons: seven-foot tall with a huge misshapen head. In chain mail. Two more appear behind it, one of them missing half an arm.

‘Holy shit…’ Jude whispers. It’s the first time he’s seen a hell-beast outside of his nightmares. ‘You killed one of those?’

I shudder, remember the beast crushing me, teeth buried in my neck, sucking at me. The searing pain when it ripped open my side. The smell of blood and sawdust, that rush of strength—my first taste of what it means to be Rephaim—and the shock of being able to throw the monster off me. That moment when I brought my blade down on its bared throat…

‘I don’t recommend the experience.’

Mya picks her way across the tiles, steps around a brick chimney billowing white smoke.

‘We need to know if there are more down there,’ she says.

‘No, what you need to do is learn to follow an order.’

Daniel.

I turn to find him on the roof with us. A dozen Sanctuary Rephaim flank him, including Daisy, Malachi and Micah. I’m so wound up I hardly felt them shift.

‘You were told to come to the chapterhouse.’ Daniel’s eyes pass over Mya and Jude, linger on me.

‘Nobody here re-enlisted in your army.’ Mya’s face is pink from cold, her blonde hair tied back and tucked inside a faux-fur collar. ‘If there’s a threat we act, not wait for an
order
.’

‘That’s why your people get hurt.’ He doesn’t look at Ez. He doesn’t have to.

‘How else are we supposed to see what’s happening out here? There are no windows on this side.’

‘If you’d come to the chapterhouse as instructed, Mya, you would’ve learned there are other ways to see what’s happening outside our walls.’ Daniel’s hands are tucked inside his suede jacket. ‘Our surveillance systems have advanced here in the past decade.’

‘Maybe someone could’ve mentioned—’

A loud crack pulls our attention back to the trees.

Zarael and Bel are metres from us at eye level, balancing in a cedar tree. Bel’s branch has snapped, sending a shower of leaves to the forest floor. He jumps to the next one as the broken limb breaks free. Leon and a hellion skitter out of the way before it crashes to the forest floor.

‘It’s a miracle.’ Zarael’s voice is smoky like Bel’s, but deeper. More threatening. ‘Both twins here, alive.’

He’s close enough that I can make out the crisscross of deep red marks across his face. The other Gatekeepers are pale, almost beautiful in a terrible way, but not Zarael. Rafa told me he was torn apart when the Fallen escaped hell, and then put back together. I didn’t realise the story was literal.

‘It seems the rumour of their demise was exaggerated,’ Daniel says. There’s something missing in his voice—condescension? His usual self-assurance? It’s enough for me to wonder if this is the first time the Gatekeepers have dared come this close to the Sanctuary.

Zarael is smiling. One side of his trench coat is tucked behind the heavy sword on his hip. It’s hard to tell if he’s looking at Jude or me. Jude takes a long, slow breath. It’s my turn to steady him. Are there enough of us to stop Zarael if the rest of his horde are hidden in the forest and they can shift to the roof? Nobody else on our side speaks. Maybe the Rephaim have never been this close to Zarael without trying to kill him. Or maybe he’s as terrifying to them as he is to me.

What would Rafa do?

I force myself to face Bel. ‘It suits you.’ My mouth is cotton-dry, but I say it loud enough for him to hear.

The demon’s eyebrows twitch together and I tap my fingertip in the middle of my forehead. He lifts his free hand. As soon as he touches the scars there his lip curls. A reminder of two of the bullets Mya fired into him in LA.

‘Wait until you see what I’ve done to Rafael.’

My entire body flashes hot, then cold. ‘Hurt him and I’ll cut your head off.’

‘Too late,’ he says, and shows me unnaturally white teeth. ‘It is amazing how much blood you bastards can lose. Immortality in a human vessel certainly has its drawbacks.’

‘What do you want, Zarael?’ Daniel asks.

I force myself to focus on the question rather than the horrible possibilities implicit in Bel’s taunt.

Zarael strokes his jaw with a long black fingernail. ‘I want these two to tell me what they did—and why it is that Bel and Leon were so convinced they killed them.’

‘You’re wasting your time. The twins don’t remember who they are, let alone what happened a year ago.’

‘I am confident my method of interrogation will be more thorough than yours. Give them to me now, and I will return the other two while they still have their heads.’

Zak and Malachi step forward together, swords drawn.

‘No,’ Daniel says. ‘Hold position.’

Zarael casts his flickering gaze over the roof. Hungry, predatory. ‘Your days are numbered, all of you. We will find the Fallen. They will return to hell—
all
of them—and without Nathaniel to protect you, we will pick you off like fieldmice.’

‘Except Gabriella,’ Bel says, pointing a bony finger in my direction. ‘I will have my fun with you before I let the hellions strip your bones.’

He wants my fear. I struggle not to give it to him. ‘You’re going to find that difficult without a head.’

‘We shall see who keeps their head the longest.’ Zarael changes his grip on the branch above him. ‘Now, children, as much as I am enjoying this rare chance to exchange insults, there are others here we need to see.’

And then he and Bel are gone, the leaves of the great cedar shaking in their wake.

SMILE…

‘The library,’ Daniel says. ‘Now.’

The Rephaim behind him disappear.

Mya holds her ground. ‘How is that going to—’

‘We have cameras. Stop arguing.’

She has no comeback for that.

The shift is short and it’s gentle—as it always is with Ez—but still leaves my skin chilled. The first thing I smell is musty paper. The second, fresh espresso. We’re in a long, narrow room. The walls either side of us are lined with shelves, stretching up so far I can’t make out the highest ones. There are more books in here than I’ve seen in my lifetime, and I work in a public library. In the middle of the room is a long row of desks and chairs and a bank of computer screens.

Daniel and three other Rephaim are clustered around the largest. The library is a strange hybrid of mediaeval and modern: the tables are antiques, the chairs ergonomic; the parquetry floor worn with age, the screens flat and shiny. This is probably where the Rephaim tracked Rafa online and found my short story: the one that set all of this in motion.

‘Technology’s improved since we left,’ Ez says to Mya. Mya doesn’t respond.

Daisy registers our arrival but her attention is fixed on whatever’s on the screen. We hang back. Jude is still craning his neck, checking out the library, while the other Outcasts shuffle behind us, impatient. The screens at our end of the table are all cold, blank.

I unzip my jacket. ‘Who’s Zarael going to see?’

‘Tourists,’ Ez says. She’s trying to peer over shoulders to see what’s in front of Daniel. ‘Hundreds come by bus twice a week.’

I stare at her. ‘Why would Nathaniel encourage that?’

‘The Sanctuary is a thousand years old. Pilgrims were coming here long before Nathaniel moved in.’

‘But it’s crawling with Rephaim.’

‘The tours never come past the front chapel. The rest of the world thinks this a closed order. Everyone trains indoors the days the buses come.’

And obviously the buses are here now.

Magda breaks away from the cluster around Daniel and comes over to us, cautious. Intelligent brown eyes shift from me to Ez to Mya and back to Ez. She’s still clutching her beads.

‘Let me turn this on for you so you can see what they’re looking at.’

Ez steps out of her way. Mya doesn’t move, forcing Magda to walk around her. She turns on the nearest screen and brings up images from four cameras, each showing a different angle of the front entrance.

‘It’s a live feed.’ Magda moves aside so we can crowd around the screen.

‘Oh god, it’s peak hour out there,’ Ez says.

There must be a hundred tourists milling about the gravel car park, most with silver hair and rounded shoulders. Some are climbing out of buses and forming groups around their guides, others line up for the chapel. A monk poses for photos while two others usher the visitors towards the main steps.

No sign of the Gatekeepers.

‘What do we do?’ I ask.

‘We wait.’ Daniel doesn’t look away from his screen. At least he’s acknowledged we’re here.

‘For what?’ Mya demands. ‘Zarael to send out a hellion?’

‘He won’t attack humans. He knows better than to draw that sort of attention.’

‘Of course they’ll attack. That’s what they do.’

Daniel finally turns his head. ‘No, Mya, they threaten humans to bait you. You take the bait, the demons attack, and then they kill the witnesses. The Gatekeepers have never openly attacked humans unless you and your
crew
have been in the vicinity.’

‘That’s not true,’ Jude says. ‘What about the ship? Zarael let hellions feed on aid workers—’

‘Do you remember that incident?’ Daniel straightens from the desk.

‘I’ve dreamed about a hellion on a ship. I didn’t know what it meant until today.’

‘So your dreams differ from Gabriella’s?’

‘Who cares?’ Mya shifts her weight, taps her fingers on the edge of the worn desk. ‘You should be more worried about what’s happening out there.’ She’s wound tight. Too tight. She wasn’t even like this before we went to LA.

Daniel’s gaze slips to me for a second before returning to Mya. ‘I’m not inciting a battle in the front car park. We will not engage with the Gatekeepers unless there is absolutely no avoiding it.’