Intuition: The Premonition Series (19 page)

“I mean the way humans look at angels, as some idealized perfect beings…ya know, like yer all kind and benevolent. All y’all are just mean and spiteful,” I say, tryin’ to straighten out my fingers.

“Did it ever occur to you that the way you look at us is offensive? I have never ever looked like a child, let alone a baby, and yet, those angel babies are all over. It is insulting,” Zephyr says, and then he has to swerve out of the way as Evie manages to knick his wing with her javelin.

“Nice one, Red!” I cheer as a feather of Zee’s wing floats gracefully to the floor. I have to check myself from givin’ her the fraternal pat on the backside, like I would do to a teammate in football, ‘cuz I might just end up with a javelin stickin’ out of me.

“You distracted him, Russell. It wasn’t fair,” she says, but I see the smile inchin’ up in the corner of her mouth.

“So ya never were a kid, huh? What did ya look like when y’all were created?” I ask, ‘cuz it occurs to me that I don’t know much ‘bout their species for lack of a better term.

“I looked much the same as I do now, except no wings at first. They come later, just like they will for you,” he says, dodgin’ Evie as she parries then thrusts again with the javelin.

“So, no baby cherubs then, huh?” I ask, thinkin’.

“No, but there is an order of angel that is close to Evie’s rank, the Seraphim, that is called Cherubim, but they do not resemble winged babies either. However, it would be interesting to see what they would do to you if you likened them to one,” Zephyr says with a smirk.

“So what’s their story, the Cherubim? What do they do?” I ask to buy time so that my knuckle can stop stingin’ before I have to pick up my stick again.

“They are the guardians to the souls in Paradise. They guard the way to the tree of life and they keep the records of the souls,” he says absently, while concentratin’ on Evie’s ever improvin’ form. “You would recognize them by their coloring. Blue wings. Oh, and they are leonine.”

Evie lowers her javelin and stares at Zephyr in awe. “What’s leonine mean?” I ask.

“Like a lion,” Evie says slowly, still lookin’ at Zephyr.

“So Cherubim are lions with blue wings that defend the souls in Heaven and keep track of the soul’s records?” I ask, runnin’ down their dossier. “What kind of records?”

“Sins,” Zephyr says, smilin’ at me warmly, but his words send a shiver down my spine.

“Like Santa’s elves, huh?” Evie says, makin’ a joke, which gets a laugh from Zephyr. To me she says, “So be good for goodness sake.”

While I pale a bit, Zephyr continues. “But I wouldn’t say they look exactly like a lion, more that they have characteristics of a lion and an angel.”

“Are we gonna run across any of them down here?” I ask, still not too pleased to have learned that somewhere in Heaven there is a lion-esk, man-lookin’ angel tallyin’ up my sins.

“Possibly, but it may not be one from Paradise, it could also be one from Sheol,” Zephyr replies, and his statement makes my skin crawl. Sheol had been explained to me as another name for what the nuns of St. Vincent would’ve called Hell. The nuns had also told me, several times, that I might find myself there one day, and I can’t help thinkin’ how much I hope they’re wrong about that one. Havin’ the place confirmed as an actual destination gives a whole new spin on the word “sin.”

“How can ya tell who’s Fallen and who isn’t?” I ask, ‘cuz it would be nice to see them comin’ before they see me, even though seein’ a lion man might be a total tip off.

“The Fallen are marked… stained-like a dark smear on them. But even without that you will know when you evolve more—the smell of them is foul, it will burn your lungs like acid,” he says. I see that Evie knows what he’s talkin’ ‘bout ‘cuz she turns pale from the description. “Some can mask the smell, if it has been a while since they have been called to Sheol, but if they are fresh from there, you will know it.”

“This dark smear—is it like an aura or something?” Evie asks, followin’ him with little trouble.

“No, it is more of a stain—that is the best way I can describe it. Angels do not possess auras, that is a human trait—a trait of the soul.” Zephyr explains, watchin’ Evie processin’ what he is sayin’.

“So we stick out like sore thumbs, huh?” Evie says as her shoulders droop, understandin’ somethin’ I haven’t gotten yet. “An angel with an aura must be like a neon sign that blinks: ‘Evil Freak’ on and off like a vacancy sign.”

“A neon sign, yes, ‘Evil Freak,’ no…” Zephyr says, trailin’ off.

“Then what does the sign say?” Evie asks Zephyr. I’m glad she asked ‘cuz it’s important to know what we look like to them.

“Your sign reads: ‘Dangerous,’” he replies. Evie’s javelin slips through her fingers. She turns away to retrieve her water, trying to hide the fear in her eyes.

I search for somethin’ to say that might make her laugh. “Well, I guess that’s better than: ‘Pansy Ass.’”

“No, it’s not, Russell,” Evie says, turnin’ to me. “If it said that, then we would be left alone. ‘Dangerous’ to an angel would be almost irresistible for both sides, divine and evil.”

“There are so many levels that make you irresistible to us and that is just one,” Zephyr says, landin’ on the ground and pullin’ his wings back to a restin’ position behind him.

Evie’s eyebrow arches in question. “What would be another level?”

“You are so similar to us, being angels, yet you in no way act like us. You constantly amuse me: how you think, how you feel, what you deem essential and what you find baffling,” he explains to us, chucklin’.

“Ah, much like talking to a five-year-old child, huh? Her view of the universe is skewed by her limited life experience, and thus, deemed precious to an adult,” Evie says evenly.

“Maybe. I do not have much experience with children. But, I doubt I would find a child dangerous on any level,” he counters. “And I would not use the word ‘precious’ to describe Russell.” Zephyr continues, wrinklin’ his nose at me.

“You’re not very endearin’ there yerself, general,” I reply, pretendin’ to take offense. “The girls don’t seem to have a problem with me. Brownie and Buns think I’m fascinatin’.”

“Yes. They are used to souls, since they reap them on almost a daily basis,” Zephyr replies with a smug smile.

“That’s funny, I didn’t think it was my soul that interested them— I think they like the angel part, too,” I reply with an arrogant smile, and then shift into a defensive crouch instinctively when I hear the low growl comin’ from Zephyr. I had momentarily forgotten that Zephyr is highly protective of Buns, a fact that she seems to reciprocate. “Ahh, c’mon, Zee, I didn’t mean it that way! I’m just sayin’ they don’t think I’m creepy, like everyone else does ‘round here.”

Zephyr sniffs once, seemin’ to process what I had just said. I look at Evie who is studyin’ Zephyr herself, sorta gaugin’ his reaction.

“Are you jealous, Zee?” Evie asks him perceptively, as she smiles a little with her eyes, but keeps her mouth neutral.

“Do not be ridiculous,” Zephyr replies quickly, which makes Evie turn to me and raise her eyebrow in speculation. Zephyr picks up the javelin Evie had dropped and begins spinnin’ it ‘round in intricate patterns and maneuvers, so fast, that it becomes just a blur to me.

“Zee, if you could, would you trade places with Russell?” Evie asks him in a thoughtful way, as if unsure of how to proceed, but I can tell that she wants to pick the scab off of this one and to see if it will bleed.

“Trade places with Russell?” Zephyr scoffs. He stops twirlin’ the javelin for a moment. “It is impossible. And what would I need a soul for anyway?” he asks, and then continues to exercise the javelin. “Although, it would come in handy, your soul, if I wanted to draw out the Fallen. They would come to me then. I would not have to forever be tracking them and chasing them. They would be unable to resist the lure of a soul in an angel—the danger it represents,” Zee says thoughtfully.

“And that appeals to you?” Evie asks.

“Of course. I am an assassin. It would add to my arsenal. I would be the ultimate dead end for them—an irresistible snare,” Zephyr replies with a thoughtful air.

“You would not fear that others would constantly want to end you?” Evie asks him.

“No, therein lies the challenge—they would have to try, would they not?” he replies with a broad smile.

“Wow, Zee! That’s slightly psychotic,” Evie says with a frown.

“Not psychotic, I am just really good at what I do. I hunt Fallen. This would make it effortless to draw them in,” he replies with ease.

“But you would get the comrades on your side worked up, too. How would you deal with them?” Evie asks, studyin’ him close.

“I can be very persuasive. Russell will also probably have Seraphim wings. That would help in the negotiations,” he says as if he would be unimpressed by anyone who finds his physical presence not to their likin’. “But I would not have that luxury, if I were to take his soul. I would have to make due with being a Power with a soul.”

“But what if you had to change places with Russell as he is now, without the strength, power, and fighting skills you possess?” she asks, frownin’.

“I would make the most of it. He will be a very powerful being one day, maybe even as powerful as me,” Zephyr says with hubris, grinnin’. I can’t help smilin’, too, at his arrogance. “And he will certainly outrank me, but he will cease to be if he ever tries to pull rank on me. Since I am training him, I will know all of his weaknesses.”

He does know all of my weaknesses, which are too many to count right now. ‘Bout to agree with him, I glance at Evie and see her growin’ pale. Evie picks up the stick I had dropped earlier and the look on her face is piercing—deadly. I have never seen her look like this before; she looks like Reed did when he was about to kill Sebastian. Lethal. Holdin’ the javelin out in front of her, she mimics the whirl of the javelin that Zephyr had demonstrated effortlessly just moments before. She moves in close to Zephyr, before pressing the sharp tip of the javelin to his throat.

Bracing her hand behind the javelin so that the slightest movement from Zephyr will impale him, she asks in a deadly calm voice, “Why are you helping us? What’s in this for you?”

“Are you questioning my motives?” he counters in an even tone without emotion.

“Answer the question,” she snarls, but she is losin’ some of the calm she had just displayed as her hand trembles just a little.

“Evie?” I ask, ‘cuz this is so unlike the girl I know that I am startled and confused.

“Nothing is unconditional, Russell.” she barks at me with her eyebrows comin’ together. Then, she asks Zephyr, “What do you expect to gain from helping us? Because if you ever try to take his soul, I will end you—I promise you.” Her hands are shakin’ while she scans Zephyr’s face. She presses the point deeper into his throat and I watch, shocked, as she scowls at Zephyr like he is an enemy.

She has taken him by surprise with her threat, but he does not pull away or move at all. He studies her face; so close to his own, and replies, “I promise you I will never be tempted to kill Russell for his soul. It is not for me, you see, so I will leave it where it is. I am not evil—and I am not Alfred.”

Evie looks like she is desperate to believe him. She loosens her grip on the stick, pullin’ it back so that it isn’t diggin’ into his neck, but she doesn’t drop it entirely. “Why?” she asks again.

“Because I am compelled to help you. I do not know how to explain it. When I was unable to kill you, when we first met, you became the first prey that has ever survived me. Ever. You are my first incomplete mission. You survived because of who you are and I just need to see what happens next… and…” he trails off.

“And, what?” she whispers, her arms are really shakin’ now from raw emotion.

“And this is the closest I have come to having a family—which is not what I had expected. Generally, I thought that families were supposed to be kind to each other,” he says, but there is a teasin’ note to his voice. Evie’s lower lip begins to tremble and her eyes are fillin’ up with tears. I step forward to hug her, but Zephyr holds up his hand to me, indicatin’ that I should stop.

Evie whispers, “I know that you’re not Alfred…I’m sorry, Zee…I just can’t afford to be wrong anymore.” She lowers the javelin. “This has messed me up. I was so wrong about Alfred. I thought he was my friend, but he never really was…you’ve been so good to me, to us,” Evie says, indicatin’ her and me with a hand gesture. “I just… I just…” she trails off.

Zephyr pulls her into his arms and lets her cry on his chest. “That was a harsh lesson that Alfred taught you. Evil can disguise itself well. The Fallen are deception incarnate,” Zephyr says in a quiet tone. “You will battle with this lesson for a while.”

“Alfred crawled inside my head and left me with the feeling that I have to question everyone and everything or he’ll win,” Evie whispers, her face still resting against Zephyr’s chest.

Zephyr gives me a grim look. “Betrayal is hard to overcome. You will need to come to terms with it because emotion is costly. You must be able to look at things from an objective point of view or you will run the risk of making the wrong decision,” he says in a gentle voice, pattin’ her back. “Now, take this situation as an example. I allowed you to surprise me because I have become comfortable with who I believe you to be and I forgot to realize that you are so unfathomable in your tactics, that when you saw me as a threat, you reacted in a manner for which I was unprepared. I did not see how threatening my words were to you. It is what I said before, you do not act like an angel, making you unorthodox.”