Michael (The Curse) (The Airel Saga, Book 3: Part 5-6) (14 page)

“You dat one we come fo’,” said the giant man, addressing me with his thick accent and wide, insane-looking eyes. He sounded native African or Caribbean, and his arms were like trees, the massive, stubby branches of them his hands and fingers. His skin shone like the blackest bronze in the light of the burning wreckage behind me, which was starting to die out in the unrelenting downpour.

I looked him over, searching for chinks in his armor. A thick red vertical line had soaked through the fabric of his T-shirt from his clavicle to the buckle of his belt. I figured I had just killed his Brother. I was happy to provide that service. He held a short sword loosely in one hand, a big gun in the other.
“It’s H&K, and you don’t want to taste that medicine,” She
said, and I made a note for trivia night, saying a little prayer that I would live to see happy times again.
Will this not end?

“Don’ preten’ you don’ know what we talkin’ ‘bout,” he said.

“Okay, fine. I’m not pretending,” I said, baring my teeth in irritation. “I actually genuinely have no idea why you want to kill me or my friends. But I can promise you this—I handled your stupid Brother, and I can handle you too. So bring it.” I clasped my hands together and took my fighting stance.

For a split second, he looked scared. But then his brows furrowed and he bared his disgusting dirty teeth, yellow protrusions sharpened into points, and growled at me.

I heard a
pop
. A single gunshot. The man winced.
What just happened?
I looked around wildly.
Kim.
She had taken a shot. I looked quickly back to the giant man. He was grasping his left shoulder, applying pressure to his wound, and blood was flowing out between his fingers. He looked at me, and I wondered if he knew who had just shot him.

Don’t go after my Kimmie.
I had to distract him.

I gave him my own crazy wide-eyed stare and called him on as if I had been the one that shot him. “That’s right. You want more, big fella?” I said
.
Confusion worked as well as any other weapon, and it seemed to be working on this guy quite well. I advanced on him, hoping the Sword would show up on time again.

***

MICHAEL LOOKED AT KIM as if she had just slapped her own mom in the face. “Kim, not yet,” he hissed at her in a whisper.

She huffed at him. She looked at Ellie and returned her disapproving glare.

He gently lowered Kim’s hands, pointing the weapon away and down, hiding it from view. He looked past her to the trio of demons.

These were the worst. Very slippery and very fast. They were difficult to defeat because of that, but it wasn’t impossible. He just had to outsmart them somehow, get them to walk into a trap. For now, it looked like they were waiting for something, perhaps a signal, from the giant man—or something else.

He didn’t much care about anything, though, as long as Airel was safe. It was murder watching her stand up against and fight these evil things—almost unbearable. But she was obviously tougher than he gave her credit for. She was impressive, for sure. He couldn’t help but smirk in admiration and satisfaction as he watched her.

***

“YOU CANNOT MAKE US die de death,” the giant man continued on. “Da Bruddahood is beega dan you. Da Bruddahood can nevah die de death. Wen you kill one, you see, two or tree mo’ take de place of dat one. We beega dan you. You on ow-ah propahtee. Dis ow-ah place. We de originah rebels, not you.”

He was wagging a finger at me, as if he was going to sit me in a corner to punish me. “Would you just shut up and—” I raised my clasped hands above my head and swung them down together hard at the ground, “—bring it.” I was so sick of his stupid monologue.

The Sword became real once again, cutting through asphalt and rock like pie crust, opening up a huge gash in the road, melting the edges of the clean cut like a cauterized wound.

I brought the blade up between me and my enemy, who outweighed me easily by a factor of three or four. I looked quickly up at him from my crouch, my eyes signaling as much danger as I could bring to bear on him in the awesome light of the Sword.

Just like his counterpart had done, the depths of his eyes betrayed the foundations of fear within him.

“Fear is like castles of sand on the shore,” She
said.

What a stupid way to build a kingdom,
I answered.

“Exactly. El is like the sea.”

I nodded and launched myself at my enemy.

***

MICHAEL WATCHED IN HONEST awe as Airel the warrior woman opened the earth with her Sword.
Sure,
he thought,
maybe that was Kreios’ Sword … but she owns it now.
She was shouting at the giant and rushing forward.

As a matter of fact,
he thought,
it sure as heck feels like we’re being stalled out here.
For what reason, he couldn’t figure out, though.

Peeling his eyes away from Airel, he stole a glance at the trio of dangerous anti-Cherubim. They were still waiting, watching; their wings, like those of a swallow, twitching nervously around them.

He looked back to Airel. She was launching herself at the man, Sword-first. That’s when Ellie poked him in the ribs and pointed back to the demons. He looked back just in time to see them take to flight, fleeing the scene.

Gone.

***

IT WAS TOO SIMPLE, too quick and too easy with the Sword. Almost unfair. I must have been moving very fast, because the whole world stood still around me as I moved in for the kill.

I didn’t make any crafty zig-zaggy moves. I didn’t feint, didn’t do anything clever. I just went for him like a bullet, the blade of the Sword held parallel to the ground on my right side.

“Mandritto tondo,” She
said, and I understood her perfectly: forehand strike from right to left,
mandritto;
horizontal strike at the target’s three o’clock,
tondo;
and just like that I was the picture of elegance in battle.

The Sword cut clean and easy at the man’s undefended waist, and I could feel the
debole
of the blade pierce his skin, gliding through his innards. I could sense in detail when the Sword impacted and sliced cleanly through the bone and cartilage and nerve tissue of his spine, as it finished, exiting out the back of his body. I had cut him in half at the waist in a single fluid motion.

I finished on one knee, both hands grasping the Sword across my body and down to the left. The giant man collapsed in a heap of two great pieces at my right side in bloody spasms. I did not hear him speak another intelligible word.

As quickly as I could, I turned around, looking for the next objective. But all was quiet.

I found Michael as the Sword began to fade and disappear again. His face was marked with worry.

“The other three are gone,” he said.

I felt my legs grow weak.

CHAPTER V

IT WAS STILL RAINING.

“Well, that sucked.” It was Kim.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked. “Sharpshooter?”

She huffed at me, but that was all I got. I decided to let it go for now. I knew we needed to talk, and soon, but it was difficult with all the drama. She probably needed to decompress, being the only one of us who really had no business being entangled with all the supernatural stuff we were dealing with.
Michael was right. We should have taken her home.

“How about you?” Michael asked me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking at him, suddenly aware of my clothing hanging in tatters off my back. I quickly assessed the situation—it wasn’t too bad. Lucky I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt under a thick hoodie. The jeans were mostly good. “My hoodie is thrashed, though,” I said aloud.

“Let’s find the luggage and get you some fresh clothes,” he said. “But after that, we gotta get outta here.” He looked to Ellie. “Can you chill with Kim for a sec while we look for our stuff?”

Ellie nodded.

Then Kim interrupted. “The luggage is mostly right over there,” she said, pointing off a little ways into a roadside ditch.

Michael and I froze, looking at her. “How did you know that?” I asked.

“You passed out after you were thrown,” she said.

“I did?” Something wasn’t right. “Ellie,” I said, turning to her, “are you okay?” I was thinking of the minimal injuries she had sustained. I was trying to worm my way into the truth somehow, hoping somebody would let something slip. For sure there was some kind of cover-up going on here, and I wanted to know what was up. “I mean,” I exhaled, “you and Kim were still in the truck when it hit. You seem to have fared all right.”

“That’s what happens when you use your belts,” she said, making a buckle-up gesture. She shrugged.

I scowled.
I don’t like this. Or you.
And I could have sworn I heard a snarky response from her, but I had no proof. Just nasty echoes in my head. Maybe it was just the look on her face. Then I jumped a little—there was something poking me in the rib.

It was Michael elbowing me. “Let’s just get to the luggage and get you dressed.”

“Fine,” I said. “Lead on, fearless one.” I didn’t want him behind me, ogling my bra strap or something. But I could tell I had hurt him—he took it wrong. He looked for a second like a whipped dog.
He still feels like a traitor,
I guessed. It was pretty obvious, though he quickly changed his expression to the one we all wear—the mask.

As he walked by me, I tried to lighten the mood. “Too bad it’s not raining soap too, cuz you need a shower, my friend.”

“It’s just smoke.” He laughed.

“Dude. Then what’s burning?” I made a gagging sound.

Actually, it was the semitruck burning in the middle of the road.

He laughed again and we walked toward the random exploded collection of bags. The sword case was there, which was bittersweet. I wanted to need what was inside that case. Clearly, however, I did not need to be lugging around a sword, not when I had the Sword of Light in my possession. However, that was possible. Unless … unless I was
its
possession.

Is this what it means to grow up? Bitter mixed with sweet all the time?
Part of me was indeed the warrior woman, but she was new and strange, unknown. The other part of me was still a scared little girl. Both of them had their bitter elements, their sweetness. It was a new way to taste life. I was glad to have Michael at my side. I made a decision right there to show him that I both loved and trusted him completely.

***

MICHAEL COULDN’T HELP ALLOWING his heart to flutter in her presence. Airel was the pinnacle of the art of the feminine to him. She was graceful, delicate, endowed with rare beauty. That, and she could handle herself admirably. She had this “don’t mess with me” quality about her. She was an impossible coexistence of so many conflicting qualities—it boggled his mind. He hoped sincerely to deserve her at some point.

“This is it,” he said as they approached the edge of the road above their scattered bags. “Not all of them, but do you see yours?”

“Yeah,” she said, skidding down the loose, sandy soil of the embankment. “I see it.”

He watched as she unzipped a duffel and started going through it. She pulled out a T-shirt and a wet-weather parka.

“Turn around, stud. A lady has got to have some kind of privacy, even out here in the wild.”

Reluctantly and a little heartsick, Michael smiled and turned his back. “Fine. Have it your way.
Be
all proper and junk.”

“You know you want it.”

“You’re making me crazy.”

“The
propriety
,” she said, teasing.

“Yeah,” Michael said, breathing hard.
I gotta walk away.
“Hey. Will you grab my parka too?” He still faced away from her.

“Did I say something?”

“No. It’s not your fault I’m completely head over heels for you. That’s something I have to deal with.”

She said nothing, but he heard her sigh from behind him.

“I’m gonna go check on Kim and Ellie, okay?”

Nothing.

“Airel?” Michael asked, ready to turn around but not actually doing it, fearing for her suddenly nevertheless.

“Michael.” There was a long pause. “I love you.”

He slumped his shoulders in the rain and sighed, stress visibly melting off. “Airel …”

“Michael, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t mean—”

“Airel—”

“—what I said. I mean, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I mean—”

“Airel.”

She gasped. “What?”

“Can I turn around now?”

“Oh. Well, yeah.”

He turned and beheld her. Soaked, miserable, tired, dirty—his one and only love. He slid down the incline to her. He wrapped his arms tight around her and pressed her to him, kissing her neck just below her ear. She shuddered, trembling in his arms.

She whispered, “Now you’re making
me
crazy.”

“Good,” he said. He could feel her warm breath on his skin.

She did not push him away. Her lips were very close to his own.

All the buried feelings, all the little recurring deferments of their passions then flared to the surface and broke out into the open, running free. He gently let his hand glide up her back, tangling his fingers in her wet hair. He pulled her slowly closer.

She breathed haltingly. He could tell she held her desire mixed with the fear of the unknown. He drew her still closer, watching as she gave in, as she stood on tiptoes and closed her eyes in anticipation. Her breath came in hot bursts and he drank it in hungrily, savoring the essence of her, all of her, every bit of her.

The rain came down, straight down.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. Every nerve ending ignited in the fulfillment of his dearest-held passion for Airel, lighting his heart on fire. It made him dizzy. Her lips were so soft, their kiss so warm and tender, this moment so unexpected.

She responded to him, pulling him tighter to her.

Their kiss intensified.