Rising (13 page)

“Good.” War gives me that wicked grin
that makes his beady eyes shine. “Cause Diamond’s really good at sniffing out
lies.”

“She hates when people lie to her,” Heather
says. She seems to naturally bounce every time she speaks.

I feel the first slight chill of fear
ride down my spine, but quickly push it away. I’m still flushed with energy and
cling to the confidence it affords. Whatever’s down this hallway, I’ll handle
it. I want to face this Diamond, see who she is, what she knows, and then I’ll
bring this whole house down on their heads…somehow.

Our steps eat up the distance of the
long hallway. Behind a door, I hear a deep guttural moan accompanied by a
rhythmic thudding, which I assume is a headboard. The sound of a spank is
followed by a girl’s shriek, which peels off into giggles.

Thirteen, fourteen….

Blue Eyes touches the chain at his neck.

Heather titters. “Who’s in there?” she
asks.

“Michael and Tanda,” Rachel replies.

“Oh, she’s fat though,” Heather says.

Blue Eyes approaches two frosted glass
doors at the end of the hallway. He waits, and I feel a familiar pulse of
static crackle across my mind followed by a steady hum. Someone is a mind
talker, like Kyle was. Maybe it’s Blue Eyes or Diamond if she’s the one behind
the glass doors. I shift my feet and watch a chunk of ice slide from the toe of
my boot onto the carpet.  

“Nicolas and Warren, come in,” a soft
voice says from behind the door.

“Ladies, why don’t you claim a nice bed
for me,” War says to his two blonde companions. “Something without a lot of cum
on it.”

“What if it’s your cum?” Heather asks
with a teasing smile.

War thinks about this for a moment.
“Then I guess it’s okay, since you two really like my cum.”

“I don’t.” Heather wrinkles her button
nose. “It smells funny.”

“It does?” War takes a step toward her.
“You don’t like how it smells?” He snatches her chin and pulls her down to his
eye level. She gives a cry and puts her hands on his wrist.

“She didn’t mean nothing by it,” Rachel
says.

“You just haven’t had enough yet, you
know, to get used to it, right Heather?” War’s fingers dig into the sides of
her face.

Heather looks up at him with round,
tear-rimmed eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“So, I’ll just have to give you more. A
whole lot more.”

“War,” Nicolas interrupts. I’m not sure
if his frown means he’s concerned with War’s treatment of Heather or that
they’re keeping Diamond.

“Get a bed ready,” War says and pushes Heather
away. The red streaks left by his fingers are stark against her pale skin. War
and Nicolas walk into the office and close the door behind them.

“You can’t be teasing him about his
cock,” Rachel lectures her sister even as she wraps an arm around her shoulders.
“He always goes berserk.”

“I didn’t say nothing about his cock,” Heather
huffs and touches her jaw tenderly. The red marks are already blooming into
bruises. “All cum smells funny, it’s just a fact.”

“Not War’s cum. His smells like
flowers,” Rachel says, and they both laugh. She looks over at me, and I can’t
stifle the dubious expression on my face fast enough. Rachel frowns and takes
her arm from her sister’s shoulders.

“You ever been to Rigsby, Virginia?” she
asks.

“Me? No.”

“Most folk haven’t. It’s poor as all
hell. School only got three classrooms. Some kids don’t have more than a single
pair o’ shoes. Lot of folk drink. There just ain’t much work.”

“We didn’t even have a proper toilet,”
Heather adds.

“Okaaay,” I say, because I’ve obviously
missed the train to this conversation.

“You wonder why we’re with him,” Rachel says.
“Why we let him do this.” She beckons to her sister’s face. “But you ain’t
never been to Rigsby, so you got no right to judge.”

“I ain’t…I mean, I’m not judging.” I
hold up my hands.

Rachel’s mouth tightens. “Yeah ya are.”

“War said to get a bed ready,” Heather
says. She touches her jaw again, though the bruises are already beginning to
fade. Tim McGraw interrupts our conversation with a long croon. Heather fumbles
in her pocket as the two girls turn and walk off, their hips swaying together.

Heather pulls out a pink bejeweled phone,
looks at the number, and crinkles her brow. She puts it to her ear.

“Hello?”

Rachel knocks on a door and then opens
it.

“Hang on, hang on, I ain’t Janice,”
Heather says as the door closes behind her.

Rigsby, Virginia; I have no idea what to
do with that. I take a breath and dismiss the conversation. Time to focus. I
turn back toward the glass doors. It was stupid of them to leave me alone. I
could walk right back down the stairs and out of the house. Maybe I should. I
know the address now. I know what half of the angels look like. If Tarren is
nearby, maybe I can find him.

My feet stay planted. War said they were
leaving tonight. If I duck out now, we could lose the entire group. Who knows
where they’ll show up next, and how many bodies we’ll have to follow to find
them. And the Ascensions. If they create new angels in each town they feast on,
this situation could grow to utterly fucked proportions real quick, if it isn’t
there already. No, I need to stay here. Find an opening.

Kill this Diamond woman,
I think to myself
, and the rest will
scatter
.
They’re young, inexperienced. Tarren and I can pick them off,
easy.

I think about that poor girl in the
study, her eyes puffy with tears and the hunger wild in her gaze.
Maybe I
can help some of them. Teach them how to control—

The glass doors open. War and Nicolas
step out.

“You passed the first test,” War says.

“Yay for me,” I respond.

“You didn’t try to run. That would’ve
been real bad.” He leer gets extra creepy. “Diamond gets a little stormy when
people try to pull shit on her.” He laughs abruptly like he just said the
funniest thing in the world.

“Inside,” Nicolas jerks his head toward
the doors.

“What, am I going to, like, get
interrogated?” I ask.  

“Not an interrogation,” War says. “A
pleasant conversation.”

“Pleasant, huh?”

“No handcuffs.” War glances down the
hall as if the talk of handcuffs has suddenly brought a different thought to
mind. “Where did my ladies go?”

“Second door on the left,” I tell him.

“You should stay,” Nicolas says to him. “In
case Diamond needs us.”

“If she needs us she’ll call,” War taps
his head.

So Diamond is the mind talker. Good.
That’s a relatively benign ability, which means she shouldn’t be too difficult
to kill. I can take her down nice and quiet, then pretty Nick and ugly War. That
fucker definitely needs a date with a ditch. If I get a chance, I’ll take out
the twins too, and the Cherubs will come later. I shiver, though with fear or adrenaline,
I’m not sure. Can Mousey Maya really kill five people with her little bare
hands?

Mousey Maya isn’t here,
the monster purrs in my mind.
You’ll
do it because you have to.

“Go on,” Nicolas says to me. I square my
shoulders, open the glass door, and enter the room. The door closes behind me, pulled
shut by telekinesis. I immediately feel the throb of intense power, something
I’ve only felt once before.

Oh fuck an ostrich.
My little plan of delivering death and
mayhem flees my head with a whimper.

“Welcome,” a soft voice says. “I’m
delighted to meet my niece at last.”

A large lacquered desk, mahogany wood so
dark it looks almost black, dominates the room. A heavy, high-backed chair sits
behind the desk, turned around so I can only see the arched back of it.

“Take off your shirt.”

Diamond is not at the desk. She lies on
a purple yoga mat on the floor, one leg cranked behind her so severely that even
the best yogi would wince.

“Huh?” I stammer. The handles of the
door press into my back.

Diamond turns her head to look at me.
“Take off your shirt.”

She is Grand’s sister. Her lineage is
stamped clearly on her face, from the rounded forehead and weak chin to those
china blue eyes that are twins to his. And the power. That is the same too. It
ripples from her person, almost physical in its intensity. She is what the
angels call “Exalted,” one of the remaining few who was changed using the
original formula.

The game is up, assuming I even had any
game to begin with. I know the reason behind Diamond’s request, just like I
know how easily she could hurt me if I disobey. I grasp the hem of my shirt, tug
it up and over my head, and then stand, clutching it in front of me.

The Exalted are far more powerful than
the lower form of angels who are changed with bone marrow injections.

“Turn around,” Diamond commands in a
soft, fluty voice that belies her strength.

I turn and can almost feel her gaze
pinpoint the small, tea-colored birthmark that kisses my left shoulder. This is
what Tarren revealed under torture when he admitted my existence to Grand. This
is how Grand knew I was his daughter, how Diamond knows me now as her niece.

“I find that yoga aids me in
relaxation,” Diamond says. I make to put my shirt back on, but pause and look
to Diamond for her reaction. When she doesn’t seem to notice I slide the fabric
back over my body, though I hardly feel any less naked.

I must stay calm. Must, must, must stay
calm, no matter what.
Or she’ll see your lies in your aura.

Diamond shifts her position, folding
forward into a more conventional pose. She looks up and lays her luminous blue
eyes on me. “He was searching for you for so long. It became an obsession.”

Diamond is not beautiful, not ugly or
plain either. Distinguished.
Powerful,
I think again. Regular angels,
those changed through bone marrow injections, only each develop one ability;
the Exalted have many.
Grand could move things with his mind, and he could
fly,
I think.
He stole me away in the night.
The Exalted are also
faster, stronger, more agile, more everything than normal angels.

“Especially after he lost the hand.
That’s when the final threads began to snap,” Diamond says. “The last of his
followers deserted him.” Diamond puts her palms and feet onto the floor and
pushes up into an inverted V.

I wonder if she’s a zealot, believing
like Grand that angels are the next expression of human evolution and deserve
to take the world by force.

Diamond gazes at me through the curtain
of her pale hair. “There was a rumor that he found you again. That he’d gone
after you somewhere in Texas.”

The ground feels treacherous beneath my
feet, made up of eggshells, or maybe hot coals is the better metaphor. How much
does she know? Is she baiting me to see if I tell the truth? Has she already
spoken to the angel with the enigmatic smile who watched me burn down the
warehouse with Grand’s body inside it?

Gem,
I think to myself.
His name was Gem, and he had blond
hair and blue eyes just like Grand. Just like Diamond.

“He did find me,” I say, managing to
keep my voice steady.

“Maya,” Diamond’s eyes never leave my
face, “is my brother dead?” She asks the question lightly, betraying no
emotion. I’m not sure whether she is nervous or hopeful about her brother’s
fate.

“Yes,” I tell her, “Grand is dead.”

A low growl of thunder sounds in the
distance.

“I see,” Diamond says. I watch her back
arch, vertebrae by vertebrae. Small breasts push out from her orange yoga top.
Her arms are all wiry muscle. “And yet here you are.”

The unspoken question hangs around my
neck like an anvil. I take a long breath, pulling the remaining strands of my
courage tight around me like a safety blanket. My mind, still juiced with
energy, quickly churns out a half truth. I don’t even stammer.

“The Vigils, when they first took me,
they experimented on me, starved me to keep me under control. I was weak,
confused. There was nowhere to escape, no one I could go to for help without
the risk of killing them, so,” I shrug, “I stayed. I suffered. I assumed they’d
get around to killing me eventually.”

“Go on,” she says in a languid voice.

“Grand came, got me out. He explained
about his…his dream, but there wasn’t much time. The Vigils pursued us. They
killed Grand.”

“How?” Diamond lies on her back and
pushes up into a bridge. One leg comes up, coral-painted toes pointed to the
ceiling. “How could a few humans kill someone like my brother?”

I remember War’s boogeyman story about
the Vigils. “They’re not just ordinary humans,” I caution her. “They’re
disciplined. They train day and night. They live to kill angels.” At least this
part is true of Tarren.

“Still, they’re human.”

How much does she know about them? Is
this a test?

“Grand had just taken a vial of bone
marrow. He meant to complete my change…my Ascension,” I quickly correct myself.

“He was weakened then,” Diamond says, a
hint of emotion putting gravel into her voice.

“They came in on different sides. So
many gun shots.” My voice catches. I try to make it real in my head, try to
project the images I’ve created. “I saw him fall, and then I ran. I kept
running.”

“And yet you ended up in their clutches
again.” Diamond switches legs. Now the left points up to the ceiling.

I make a decision and take a step
forward into the room. My mind is moving fast, cogs whirling. The energy keeps
the gears lubricated as I piece together a new narrative. I have to play this
just right.

“Those were amateurs. Shadows of the
real thing,” I tell Diamond. “I allowed myself to be captured hoping they would
lead me back to the ones who first tortured me.”

“And?”

“And your boy got in my way.” I realize
my arms are hanging limp at my sides and cross them over my chest. “S’okay
though. I’ve been looking for you too. The family that Grand promised.”

“And what do you think so far?”

I consider all the muddy footprints
marring the pristine carpet in the hallway outside this office. So many feet,
such dark stains left behind. I want my own family back.
I’d do anything
right now, anything, just to hear Tarren nag me about the length of my
shoelaces or some other stupid nonsense.

I bite my lip, forcing the ache away.
Hold
it in. She can read your aura.
I don’t need to look at Diamond. Her power
is everywhere, filling the room, pressing her dominance against my
consciousness. She could probably unspool my small intestine from my body with
a thought, or pin me to the wall in a psionic net like Grand did the night I
killed him.

I make an effort to meet her gaze. “Grand
wanted to take over the world. Is that what you want? Is that what you’re doing
here, making all these new angels?”

“It was not my brother’s dream,” Diamond
corrects softly. “It was our father’s dream. We grew up with crowns in our eyes
and stories of the necessary evolution of mankind in our ears.” She rises up
from the bridge to her feet and stares at me. She is tall. Almost six feet, all
long legs and defined arms. “When my brother discovered a new way to create
angels using bone marrow, he thought that was sufficient cause to build himself
an imaginary throne. But he lost control of the process, and his little empire
crumpled.”

No kidding. When word got out that any
angel could change a human with three injections of angel bone marrow, their
numbers swelled, and my brothers have been very busy ever since.

A smile creeps up on Diamond’s lips. “So
no, that dream is not my dream, though I suppose it hardly matters. The result
is nearly the same.”

In the following silence I realize that
she wants me to ask the inevitable question. “So what is your dream?”

 “Survival.”

Diamond sinks down to her knees. I watch
her small, pale hands. She could probably bend a steel pipe just as easily as she
rolls up her yoga mat. “The angel population is growing at a rapid pace. Our
original measures of concealment are no longer adequate, and we are on the
brink of discovery by the humans,” she says. “When that happens, they will
recognize our danger. War will descend.” The mat bends like a broken thing in
Diamond’s tightening grip. “We must be ready, and we must have the numbers.”

I suck in a heavy breath. My brothers
have the same concern about a big public reveal of the whole angel situation
and the resulting melee. Tarren fears as many humans would want to join the
angel clubhouse as try to burn it down. The result could, very literally, be
the end of the human race. That’s why, despite the overall shittyness of
fighting a thankless war all alone, the Fox brothers and their intrepid hybrid
half-sister keep to a code of strict silence.

Diamond walks to the desk, but instead
of occupying the chair, she sits on the polished surface, draping one long leg
over the other.

“Do you think I’m insane like my
brother?”

“Grand was….” I trail off, realizing
there’s no good way to end that sentence.

“A few crayons short of a box,” Diamond acknowledges.
“I know. We all knew.”

“More than a few,” I admit. “He enjoyed
hurting people.” Tarren’s scars are more than proof of that.

“Yes he did,” Diamond says. “You’re
wondering if we’re all like that. Sadistic.”

When I don’t answer, she says, “I don’t
play with my food, but there is no remorse in feeding. We are what we are, and
we must embrace that.”

Her words are chillingly familiar. It’s
what Kyle told me when he and Jane made the epic mistake of trusting me. I feel
again that familiar flutter of envy. Diamond feeds so freely and embraces what she
is while I wallow in endless guilt, plagued by nightmares that I may hurt those
I love.
You already have.

“That’s good,” I say and break away from
her gaze. My eyes land on a small shelf in the corner filled with legal
textbooks and a few framed photographs laid face down.

“I am building an army,” Diamond says, “city
by city. The ones you see here are mostly Cherubs; new angels who need training
and discipline. It is a slow process, but we must be ready for the inevitable.”

“Yes, I …yes, that’s a good plan,” I
say, while in my mind the word
Army
seems to grow bigger and bigger.
She’s
building an army, a god damned army of angels. And it’s just Tarren, Gabe, and
me to stop them!
I envision an entire ocean of faceless angels, moving in
lockstep, chewing through cities like a storm of locusts.
Fuck a pig,
I think
my lungs just shriveled up and died.

“You’re surprised,” Diamond observes,
breaking through my thoughts. Did she read my emotions in my stunted aura, or
did my hitched eyebrows give me away?

“That you would tell me all this,” I say
as I try to calm myself and school my face. “You don’t even know me.”

“I will though,” Diamond says and leans
back on her palms. Those blue eyes are peering into me again. “I will know you
Maya.” The threat is delivered in a soft, sure voice, and I actually take a
step back. Stupid move. Diamond sees it as she must see the flair of distress
in my aura.

Control,
I think, but I can feel my artificial
courage slowly draining away. Animal energy is a fleeting crutch. Not like
human energy.

Not like Gabe’s energy.
I push the thought away as soon as it
whispers in my mind.

“The family that Grand promised you
doesn’t exist,” Diamond says, her voice still smooth and controlled. “But there
may be a place for you here if you’re interested…and if you prove trustworthy.”

I smile, even as my lungs begin to ache.
I’ve forgotten to breathe. “I’ve already proven myself. I killed all those fake
Vigils and saved your boy, War. A very pleasant man, by the way.”

“Some men have courage. Some men have loyalty.
Some men have strength,” Diamond says, and I wonder which of those attributes
she could possibly think applies to War.

“Warren has money,” Diamond finishes. “Even
we need money sometimes.”

I give out a forced chuckle. She hasn’t
told me to sit, so I stand awkwardly to the side of the desk.

Diamond glances at the darkened window.
“We’ll leave in the morning,” she says. “Too many bodies are showing up, and
the ones who survived the transition are strong enough to move. Would you like
to be a part of my family?” The smile that creeps up on Diamond’s lips is a
warning. I know I can’t seem too eager.