Shimmer: The Rephaim Book 3 (6 page)

Mya sits on the mats a few metres away, legs crossed, watching Jude as if he’s the only person in the room. Jude is oblivious to the attention: he’s too focused on pounding the bag.

Why isn’t he more freaked out? About being here, about meeting Nathaniel, about all the talk of taking on a horde of Gatekeeper demons and their hellions? The last thought stops me cold. What if I lose him again? The shadowy wall beyond my brother looms dark, threatening. Blood rushes in my ears. What if I lose him
and
Rafa?

A loud scrape snaps my attention back to the gym. The old bronze door slides open and a shot of adrenaline spikes through me.

Daisy and Micah.

About freaking time.

They don’t seem surprised to find their gym crowded with Outcasts. Seth and the others immediately close ranks to form a barrier between Daisy and Micah and Jude and me. I shift my weight, feel the muscles in my shoulders bunch up again.

‘Let them through,’ Zak says.

Seth mutters something to the guy next to him and steps aside. The others follow, creating a gap barely wide enough for Micah and Daisy to pass single file. Micah is taller than everyone except Zak and Seth, and I track their progress by his spiky blond hair. The last time I spoke to him he was guarding Maggie with Malachi and Taya. He’d seemed happy to see me—or at least happy to see Gabe—even though I’d turned up looking for a fight. He and Daisy can hold their own, but they’re seriously outnumbered here. I need to keep things calm. I try to catch Daisy’s eye but she’s preoccupied watching her back.

Micah clears the pack first. ‘You know, Gabe, it would be nice to see you sometime when the shit hasn’t hit the fan.’

‘Who’s this guy?’ Jude asks.

‘That’s Micah.’

Micah studies Jude. Hesitant. ‘Memory loss or not, it’s good to see you, man.’

‘Did you hurt Gaby when she was here?’

‘Dude,
I’d
have to lose my memory to even try it.’

Daisy checks me over. Her straight red hair is pinned back and her face is paler than usual: the smattering of freckles even more pronounced under the fluorescents. Her eyes flit back to Jude, almost involuntarily.

‘How the hell did the Gatekeepers find you guys?’ she asks.

‘Remember the hell-beast that fed on Taya last Tuesday night?’ I say.

Daisy blinks. ‘It tracked her? But that was five days ago.’

‘Apparently it still had her scent.’

She glances at the hellion bite on my neck. ‘How bad was it?’

And just like that, my throat is all cotton wool.

‘Rafa took one through the stomach,’ Zak says. ‘Taya, here.’ He demonstrates a chopping motion above his collarbone, angled towards his shoulder.

‘Why didn’t they shift?’

‘It happened too fast.’

‘How many were there?’ Micah asks.

‘Too many. Including Zarael.’ Zak and Micah exchange a look heavy with understanding. Their fear stokes my own.

‘Shit,’ Daisy whispers.

Mya pushes her way in front of Jude. ‘Like you care whether Rafa lives or dies.’

Everything about Daisy hardens. ‘Don’t tell me how I feel about Rafa.’

‘Yeah, God forbid someone should judge
you
.’

‘Glad to see you appreciate the hospitality of the Sanctuary.’

‘It wasn’t my call.’

‘And yet you’re still here.’

‘Not for long. Count on it.’

Micah puts his arm out as if to hold Daisy back. ‘We didn’t come here for a fight.’

Ez steps up next to Mya. ‘You want to tell Daisy that?’

‘That’s Daisy?’ Jude gives her an appreciative once-over that brings a flush to her neck. ‘You’re the one with the twin-bladed sais?’

She dips her head. ‘That’s me.’

It takes a second for me to realise he means the skinny daggers she uses. Of all the things I’ve told Jude in the past few hours, I can’t believe that detail stuck.

‘I’d like to see those in action,’ he says.

‘I’d say that’s a given at this point.’ Her eyes roam over him. ‘You look good.’

Mya clucks her tongue. ‘That’s why you came down here—to check Jude out?’

‘Believe it or not, Mya, people here care about Jude too.’

‘Yeah.’ Mya smiles, taunting. ‘I bet
they
do.’

Micah steps between them, exasperated. ‘Why don’t you two sort this out on the mats?’

Daisy’s green eyes shine. ‘Excellent idea.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Ez says before I can think of a way to stop it. ‘That’s hardly a fair fight.’

‘I can handle myself.’ Mya shakes out her wrists.

‘Yes, you can, but not against Daisy. You and everyone here knows it. Don’t make this about more than it needs to be.’

Jones raises his hand. ‘I’ll take on Daisy. Unless she’s got those blades tucked somewhere I can’t see them.’

Daisy measures him. ‘In there?’ She points to the boxing ring.

Something flickers in Jones’s face—satisfaction? ‘Absolutely.’

Jude looks from Daisy to me. ‘Is this okay?’

I blow out my breath. It’s not okay—it’s wasting time we don’t have—but that’s not what he’s asking. ‘This is about as healthy as it gets between this lot. It doesn’t matter what the question is, the answer is usually a throw down.’ I follow them to the ring.

Jones and Daisy climb through the ropes and stretch out their arms and shoulders. Jones is already in trackpants and fitted singlet; Daisy strips down to a t-shirt, tossing her hoodie at Micah. The Outcasts gather around the ropes with an odd sense of anticipation.

Daisy and Jones circle each other, cautious. I grip the middle rope—too tight, impatient—and vaguely wonder how long it’s been since they faced off.

Daisy attacks first, quick and fast. Jones ducks her punch and then drops into splits to avoid a roundhouse kick. He doesn’t just have the body of a dancer; he moves like one too. Still on the floor, he swings his legs around in a scissor kick but Daisy jumps up to miss them. He rolls out of the way to avoid being stomped. She leaps at him again but he’s gone before she lands. Not shifted—just moving insanely fast. Their movements are fluid, like an aggressive ballet.

They’ve done this before.

Daisy takes off away from Jones, plants a foot on the second rope, spins, and launches at him. He dives out of the way. She curls up and lands in a commando roll. I look around at the ring. Everyone is caught in the moment—except Mya. She looks on, stony-faced.

Daisy and Jones continue their dance. It takes as much skill and concentration to attack each other at this speed without making contact as it does to connect. I’ve never seen the Rephaim like this. I have to admit, it’s mesmerising. Beautiful, even.

And then, when they’re both in the air and it looks like one of them has finally misjudged their flight, a third person materialises between them and king-hits Jones to the canvas.

Malachi.

I’m through the ropes before I think about it. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

Jones is already on his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. Movement to my left catches my eye. It’s Zak. He’s ready to tear Malachi apart.

‘Hang on,’ I say, eyes back on Malachi. ‘I’ve got this. Daisy, don’t go anywhere.’

‘Wasn’t planning on it.’ She’s somewhere behind me.

Malachi grunts. ‘Get out of the ring, Gabe.’ His eyes are overcast with anger and grief.

‘They’re just blowing off steam.’

‘Zarael has Taya. You think this is the time for games?’

‘It’s better than staring at those beige walls upstairs going crazy, waiting for someone here to make a decision about that farmhouse.’

His lips press together so hard they turn white. ‘Get out of the ring or it’ll be you and me.’

The Outcasts fall still. Jones and Daisy slip between the ropes and join them. I should walk away, get what I need from Daisy. But the Outcasts are all waiting to see how far I’ll take this. I can feel it now: the fear, the unknowing. Theirs and mine: it’s all there under my ribcage, churning. A burst of adrenaline hits my heart and strength surges through me like an aftershock. I drop and sweep Malachi’s legs out from under him, just like Rafa did to me on the training mats in Dubai.

Malachi hits the canvas hard. He springs back up almost instantly, shoves hair out of his face. ‘Cheap shot, Gabe.’

‘I still owe you a couple.’ I turn side-on, unable to keep still.

‘Gaby…’ It’s Jude, but I can’t think about him right now.

Malachi stalks closer. This is the first time I’ve fought him without a sword—or a toilet brush. I need to keep moving—

Malachi’s boot flies up at me before I finish that thought. I jump back and block the kick just as his fist connects with my kidney. I forgot how quick he is. Dull pain radiates across my hip but I slam my knee into his chest before he straightens. He hops back.

I crack a knuckle like Rafa would. Feel stronger hearing that sound.

Malachi comes at me again, feints right, left, and then throws a lightning-fast punch. I don’t get my hands up quick enough. It connects with my cheek and the world momentarily explodes into tiny white shards of pain. I keep my feet and dodge Malachi’s next punch, striking out blindly with my heel and connecting with the side of his knee. He drops down and I slam my elbow into his nose.

My cheek is throbbing. I’m bleeding, but now so is Malachi; his goatee is shiny with it. He gets to his feet. He’s nowhere near done yet. We wipe away blood, eyeball each other, and go at it again. Malachi gets in another solid punch—my ribs this time—before I finally catch on to his timing and rhythm. And then we fall into our own, more brutal, ballet of kicks and punches, blocks and strikes.

There’s no sound in the room except our breathing and shuffling, fists smacking on flesh. And Zak reminding me to keep moving, keep my hands up.

I crunch a knee into Malachi’s thigh; he elbows my lower back. I punch the side of his head; he kicks my ankle. I feel nothing except pain. Think of nothing except attacking and defending.

I don’t know how long we keep going; long enough for the blood on our faces to dry. Long enough for the sting to go out of our anger. We keep swinging at each other like heavyweights in the twelfth round of a championship bout, getting slower and slower. Not taking our eyes from each other.

Finally, Zak climbs into the ring. ‘How about we call this one a draw?’

Malachi and I stop throwing punches but keep circling, dragging our feet. My limbs are heavy; my heart feels like it’s pumping molasses.

‘Enough already,’ Zak says. ‘There’s enough pain headed our way.’

One of us has to call it quits, and I can see from the set of Malachi’s jaw that it’s not going to be him. And I still need to talk to Daisy about Virginia. My feet stop.

‘Draw?’ I manage between breaths.

He takes two more steps. Waits a second to make sure I’m not playing him. ‘Draw.’

We drop to our knees together. I slump to the canvas, stare up at the fluorescent lights. Bloody hell, everything
hurts
. I feel a thud beside me. Malachi is on his back too. His nose is swollen and bloodied, his left eye purple and closed shut. Blood cakes his mouth and goatee and his hair is slick with sweat.

He turns his head towards me, lets out a ragged breath. ‘Thank you.’

I close my eyes, absorb the waves of pain pulsing through my body; the bone-deep ache in my cheek. It was brutal and exhausting but for a brief moment we were distracted.

‘You’re welcome.’

HISTORY COUNTS

‘Fuck, Gaby, what were you thinking?’

Jude slides a hand under my shoulders and sits me up. I lean into him a little. He still smells of the ocean, even underground.

‘I wasn’t,’ I say. ‘That was the whole point.’

Daisy touches my shoulder on her way past and offers to help Malachi off the canvas. He waves her away.

‘Daisy,’ I rasp. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Let me sort out this idiot first.’

Jude wipes dried blood from my face. ‘God, you’re a mess.’

I bat his hand. ‘Stop it.’ I half-laugh, but it hurts too much. At some point Malachi split my lip.

‘How are you going to fight in Iowa now?’

Oh. He doesn’t know the Rephaim can heal each other. Something else I need to explain.

‘I’ll take care of it,’ Ez says. She’s been waiting beyond the ropes, giving Jude and me a moment. Now she climbs into the ring and helps him lift me to my feet.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Not far. You’ll see.’ Ez puts an arm around my waist, takes my weight from him.

And like that, I’m being stretched thin and crushed back together—and then I’m across the room by the door. I raise my hand to Jude. By the time he responds we’re back in the ring. He flinches, gives us a filthy look. ‘Thanks for the warning.’

My insides settle and I test my muscle soreness. Better. Jude is staring at my lip. I check and find it’s not fat anymore and the split is almost completely healed.

He stares at Ez. ‘You did that?’

‘I shared enough energy to speed up Gabe’s natural healing process. Nothing more. One of the benefits of shifting together.’

‘That’s…handy.’

Malachi hauls himself up by the ropes, sways on his feet. His eyes fix on me. There’s no anger left, just pain and worry.

‘Don’t push Nathaniel too far.’ The words come out thick. ‘Don’t give him an excuse not to go after them.’

I nod, unsure if I mean it.

‘Right,’ Daisy says to him. ‘Are you going to let me help you or are you going to keep being a dick?’

He glowers at her through his swollen eye. ‘When you’re ready.’

‘I’ll catch you in the commissary,’ she says to me. Then she ducks under Malachi’s arm and they disappear before I can think of something to make her stay.
Shit
.

The Outcasts drift off into pairs to spar. Mya waits while Jude, Ez and I climb out between the ropes. For once Mya’s more interested in me than Jude.

‘What?’ I say to her.

She shakes her head. ‘You. Every time I think you’re sliding back into being Gabe you go do something like that.’ She flicks her fingers in the direction of the ring. I try to read her expression. One minute she’s sniping at me, blaming me for all that’s wrong with the Rephaim; the next she’s putting bullets in Bel, saving my life in LA. Her mood swings are exhausting.