Even Angels Fall (Book 3)
Kyla-Caught

Kyla

The train wobbles as it rolls across the empty valley. Cows and sheep graze by the dozens, undisturbed by our presence. The sights of newborn calves produce a smile on my lips as I stare out the wide window where my head rests against the metal. We’ve been on this train for hours now and I haven’t an idea where Tymician takes me. We were in Sante Fe this morning and now, we are trudging out into the country.

Ty sits across from me. Aged worn sandals decorate his feet. Loose khaki pants match the long sleeve white button shirt he wears. With an open collar, he appears to me a relaxed tourist just returning from the beach. His skin is so perfectly tan but yet, it always is. He tosses his hair, removing his annoying bangs from his eyes, smiling at me, winking.

He speaks on the phone. It’s never far from his ear. The moment he hangs up, someone else calls. I don’t understand how he does it. I don’t do idle chat but he lives for it.

I have to admit I’ve been listening. They’ve been relatively boring calls, or perhaps I don’t understand them. He names people I haven’t heard of. There are thousands of people in Kio and Ty has not introduced me to many of them. In fact, I have only met the members of my family and Master Dion. On these journeys we don’t meet Angels or Fallen. We go sightseeing.

One thing that stays constant throughout each phone call is his level of concern. Ty loves Kio and it presents in his voice. Despite his love, I see his gaze wander from time to time. He looks to the window with a yearning I’ve interpreted as a dire desire for a moment’s peace. He grows tired and he won’t admit it.

I’ve heard before that Tymician is not a fighter but they’ve obvious haven’t taken the time to know him as I have.

Ty leans on the phone, weariness finally catching up to him with this phone call. “Molly, I’ve told you not to worry.” He murmurs. “Your husband is safe.” He waits for a response. “Elder Veronica is wrong to say that and I’ll talk to her.” I watch him and he catches my gaze, forcing a small smile. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t have you move. I need you there and I’ve explained why. If you think your husband is in serious danger than perhaps we can move him to a better location but I promise you, Elder Veronica is not going to hurt him. HMUs are acceptable in this clan.” He listens for a moment longer before they say their goodbyes.

I shift, adjusting the blanket, playing with my scarf, “What’s an HMU?”

He drops the phone in his lap and rubs his eyes, “Human Mate to an Undead. Which was explained back in your lessons about Soul Mates.” A sarcastic smile stretches his lips. “I’m starting to believe Felix is right about your listening problems.”

I fold my arms, clamping my lips shut, refusing a reply.

Ty laughs lovingly leaning his elbows on his knees, reaching across the short space between us to touch my arm, “Forgive me. I’m aggravated with the silly antics of the clan. I shall not take it out on you.” He drops his head, his brown hair short and choppy dangling down as he plays with the phone between his fingers.

I give in. He’s stressed and he rarely ever chastises me on anything. It’s always Felix telling me to do this or that. I tuck a strand of black hair behind my ear. “That girl, why can’t she move?”

He keeps his gaze on the floor. “Morgantown has eleven Fallen. Nine of them have developed a deep-seated hatred in their heart for humans and Angels alike. If I remove the ones that think differently, I risk their animosity growing stronger. Molly may not see it but she helps keep balance.” He stretches, sitting up, “Aside from that, there is so much paperwork,” He laughs. “The Elders have to approve. Then on top of that a new house has to be chosen. Not many will take in a Fallen with an HMU.”

“There are others with HMUs?” I question with a subtle suggestion in its tone.

“Yes, but to pile them together is not teaching tolerance. We are adapting and growing. The old ways are dying and I will have them know it. Even if I must shove it in their faces.”

My eyes drift to the aisle across from us. A husband and wife sit side by side. Their child sits upon the wife’s lap looking out the window as I had been doing, pointing at random objects speaking softly, making her mother laugh. The father occupies his time on an IPad, occasionally looking over, smiling.

“Ty?”

“Hm?”

“That girl is scared because she’s in love, right?” I feel his gaze land on me. “What does that feel like? Love? A lot of books I’ve read, they compare it to the heart. It feels like it’s bursting or it’s so full of so much it can’t be described. But I’ve never felt a heart. I’ve never even heard one.” I look to him sharply, “You were an Angel once. You were human. What’s a heart like?”

He smiles reassuringly, “It’s a nuisance. You’ve been blessed to be born without it. Try to sleep.”

--

{Wake up.}

{Run}

I hear her pecking at my conscious. I unfurl, groaning in unfamiliar pain. My limbs stretch, enraged at the brutal position they’ve been in while I slept. I rub at my eyes, unhappy about the pestering of this bothersome hen in the back of my mind. I was quite content sleeping my problems away.

Unlike Wilkes-Barre, this unknown land has hundreds of buildings and they all seem interconnected. I can hop from roof to roof with no fear of falling through the cracks. I didn’t understand why I was walking but the woman in my head forced me to continue.

Though most buildings are condemned or vacated, I located a section with human life. I watch their activities for a few hours, moving from family to family, noticing the accent of their voices. Alexander mentioned I was in London. Their accents remind me of Eric, who’s dialect sounded vaguely familiar to their own. But I have no recollection of coming across the Atlantic. So how did I get here?

I suppose it doesn’t matter, I am lost and finding my way is becoming harder and more dangerous. Angels and Fallen search for me everywhere I go. They don’t seem to be able to sense me but they use a tool that keeps them close. I can pick them up a mile out but they would walk right by the building I occupy and not feel a thing. What does my Soul look like to others? I’m not suppressing my Light. I don’t know how.

I feel guilty. I broke into one of these houses and stole clothes and food. I even attempted to use the phone but dialing Tymician’s got me nowhere. I tried Felix’s and even that had the same reply. Wherever I am, the phone doesn’t work the same way, I take it.

I lean over the balustrade of the roof, gazing out onto the street below. Night has settled. I don’t know what time it is and I don’t care to know. What’s the point of counting the hours that I’ve been stranded?

{Run}

“Shut up.” I bite back.

Am I going crazy? Schizophrenia in the making? I don’t want to understand it. I just want to run away from it.

{Move!}

She nags like Felix. They would get along well, I’m sure.

Where is Tymician? Why isn’t he among the lot of Fallen searching for me? Why isn’t my family among them?

Footsteps alert me and I fling my head around. A woman treads lightly with her hands held up, tentatively stepping closer. She wears a black robe with a symbol on her right chest, two creatures holding up a globe. She is young, a human and yet she’s part of the crowd searching for me. There is another Soul attached to hers, which makes her a Seer.

“Who are you?”

She gently smiles stopping before getting too close. “My name is Ashley, Kyla.”

My hopes rise, “You know my name? Do you know me?”

“Yes. I know a lot about you. I know you’re scared. You probably miss Tymician, don’t you?”

Harsh burning bothers my eyes and blurs my vision. “Where is he?”

She holds out a hand. I notice the slight tremble of her fingertips. “I know where he is. I can take you to him.”

I feel bitterness and a sudden unexplainable rage swell up inside me. It grips ahold of my nerves, ceasing my tears. Like strings attaching itself to my ligaments, all of my muscles grow rigid and attach to a leash of some other entity.

She takes control.

With a rush of speed, my own fingers wrap around the stranger’s neck and slam the body to the cement flooring. I dig my knee into her chest plate, making it near impossible to breathe. She growls so violently and terribly through my lips, “Liar!” My body convulses in outrage and a surge of killing intent blurs my vision.

I push the wall that she has mentally placed between us and I gain back the ability to speak and move, loosening my fingers, fighting against her, “Stop it, you’ll kill her!”

She snaps the wall back in place, pushing me behind it once more, restoring her ownership of my voice and my appendages, “This being of Adam means us harm. Do you think I have come so far to allow you to ruin it? You are a naïve girl, Kyla. Understand your fate and do us both a favor.”

I am getting tired of her pushiness. She thinks to rule me, to do away with me but that’s not how this is going to work. I have been treated like trash my entire Fallen life and if she thinks she is any different from them just because she is in my head, she has yet to realize what kind of person I am. I shove her back as she has done me, taking control, loosening my fingers upon Ashley’s neck and pulling back, straightening. “You listen to me. I am in control. This is my body and you will do what I say.”

She twists my head, “You think so?” She notices it before I do, our captor swinging a knife and with her in control, she snatches Ashley’s wrist, digging our nails into her skin curling her hand at an alarming position. The knife drops and even as the woman cries in warning she doesn’t stop until we feel the bone snap under our palm.

I take charge, sloppily throwing my body to the ground so Ashley can run, whimpering and crying. I stare after her, pity and sorrow swelling on my conscious. She had done it to prove that I had little command. She wanted me to see the strength she possessed. I feel her rise my lips into a malicious grin, altering my facial features from fear into victory. “Do you see, Kyla? I allow you here for my purposes. Your pathetic and needy persona is essential for my survival. Until the time comes, and then you will be needed no more.”

She relinquishes control and I shake staring at my legs. My eyes drift to the knife not feet from me. “You’re going to kill me?”The restraints take ahold and I’m back inside my square jail cell as she resumes command of my body. She directs my gaze toward the sky, brushing strands of hair from my face, smiling crudely. “You chose this, Kyla, you just don’t remember. I liked you better than. But yes. You will die, followed by many others. But do not fret. I will avenge you.”

I feel her influence release and I once again have control. I look to the ground for answers. I once again come upon the knife. Foolishly, I scamper for it, gripping it harshly, pressing the blade against my wrist. It a wild desperation, one I won’t go through but I’m rash and impulsive, willing to scare her into submission if I must. “Avenge me?” I bite. “Get out of my head or I’ll kill us both! I’m serious.” My body trembles. “I’ll do it!”

A bubbling chuckle begins to formulate in my chest and rise out through my throat. She throws my head back, cackling like a mad woman, her laughter echoing up into the open air. A wicked grin spreads wide when she snaps my mouth shut, “Oh, yes, your martyrdom. We have done this before and it did not turn out as well as you had hoped. I cannot die so easily, you dole mortal.”She pulls down the scarf and the blade rises obligatorily and traces the brutal and rigid scar upon my neck. She drags the tip across it, lovingly and admiring its contour. “If only you could remember. You shed our blood and you will call forth the Darkness that rages beneath just as you did before.”

I have enough consciousness to drop the knife and it clatters against the cement. The scar I’ve loathed and detested these past ten years was done by my own hand?

Where did this beast come from and why is she torturing me? I’ve done nothing wrong. I just want to be left alone! I’m not anything important! I’m not special or different! I’m just a girl.

I curl in a ball inside the spacious domain of my mind. It is safe here despite hearing her words and sensing every move she makes. If she takes control and I give up this seemingly unwinnable battle, I can’t be blamed for anything, right? She’s the monster, not me. She hurt that woman. I’m innocent.

Her speech continues, gaining my attention. “2001, do you know where we were?” Her smile drifts and her pride diminishes.

She murmurs gazing at the stars, “New York, right in the heart of Manhattan on a beautiful fall day. You and I shared this body equally. But you changed.” I feel detest stiffen my limbs. “So suddenly you attacked me and we bled on the streets like any despicable vagrant. There was nothing to be done with what would come from our blood. Hours later, three thousand humans burned to death and others were buried alive. You may blame yourself for that.”

She stands on my legs dusting off the clothes and straightening my muscles. She runs her fingers through my hair sensually, using my body as if it her own toy to do with as she pleases. It sickens me. Rage and bile course through me and I rebel, knocking on the brutal walls with mental fists, begging for their release but she simply smiles warmly with my lips. “Now, do not grow irate. You may have your body back. But do not assume for one moment that you are in command here.”

The moment she releases me, I look at my fingers and my arms to make sure I’m really here and not locked away inside the spiritual jail. How can I ever tell the difference? I feel the same. I look the same. My hair begins to dance across my face and I realize that it is wind. I look up, out into the night as a wave of air brushes across my skin and I close my eyes, breathing deeply, filling my diaphragm, feeling the drumming inside my chest. This is the difference. These sensations convey that I am here on the earth plain and I have rule over my own form.

{Run}

I obey, instinctually going in the direction she wishes. For now, she may be in charge but I will find a way to get rid of her.

I grip the edge of a roof top, panting, catching my breath. I look out across the way, trying to figure out how to cross the street without touching ground. “There isn’t a way.” I explain to her as nicely as I can.

Yet even so, she finds the reply unacceptable and takes the wheel of my nerve endings, throwing my hair over my shoulder. “You are callow, Kyla. Observe your gifts that Adam has bestowed upon us.”She steps upon the ledge and glances down. I reel back mentally but she is in full control and plunges down, smacking into the roof of a car with ease, bending upon impact. The metal roof caves in but it does little damage to our bare feet. I stand and she is proud at our survival. “This body is strong but only if the intent is. Do not doubt and you will succeed in the unfeasible.” She jumps once more and lands upon the car across the road. “Will you try?”

I grasp ahold of my body and feel the metal beneath my feet. My toes sting and tingle yet I am otherwise unharmed. It is an awesome feeling to see. I was so scared of her and now I am in awe. Is that terrible?

I look up to the building. “You want me to jump up there?” I question absurdity. “And if I fall?” She remains silent, humoring me none. I have a feeling she doesn’t laugh very often. I shake out my fingers. “My intent. I must intend.” I focus squarely on the tip of the roof, aiming for a pivotal spot that I think I can manage.

I fall, clenching my head, full of loud horrible noises. There are screams and echoes of screams and it won’t stop. My whole body wraps in a ball on top of the car and I roll off onto the pavement. I can’t breathe, I can’t see.

Distantly, something grabs my arm. I don’t care. I want the pain to stop. “Please.” It’s so hard to speak. I’m tired. It aches around my eyes, around my mouth, my throat.

When I wake, there is fire in my eyes. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to cause anymore harm to my head. “Why did you do that?” I whisper to her. Tears drip over my cheeks in the memory of the pain. I wdon’t want it to happen again and I’m afraid. “I was doing everything you said.”

{Stupid girl.}

So distant, I hear her whisper. She is tired and barely capable of it.

{We are captured.}

Painc seizes me and I sit up. A cage surrounds me. Metal bars and stone walls. My head rolls and a wave of nausea bubbles in my stomach. I run to the sink and gag but thankfully nothing comes up. I wash my face, hoping when I emerge it will be a dream and I wake up in my bed in Bear Valley.

“How?”

I tiptoe toward the metal bars.

[Don’t touch!}

I withdraw my hands. Inching my head forward, I look out. Torches light the room around me but there is nothing.

“Hello?” I call out.

Coming around the corner, a woman approaches. My body stiffens and I find myself retreating as she steps closer. The four scars upon her Soul are bleeding and it drowns the beautiful Light of her Angelic form. She does not smile. She does not weep. Emotionless and cold, she stares at me, her pain more brilliant than the sickening damage of her hands.

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