“What’s happening?” I hear Tessa from the veranda.

“Stay inside.” But even as I say it, her footsteps rush in behind me.

“Isis? What is she doing?”

I latch onto Tessa’s arm as we reach the edge of the driveway, the gates opening. The barrier of protection ends at the street and we are ten feet away from it. If Tessa crosses the line, I’ll lose her. The thought nearly sets me in panic. I pull her behind me, keeping a hand on her for reassurance as I face the barrage heading down the center lane.

Isis sends a shockwave of Light against the street. The rolling emission tears at the grass, uproots hundred-year-old trees and they roll along with the typhoon, striking the mansion across the street. Windows shatter seconds before the whole outside wall combusts and caves. Electric wires spark and set the place ablaze. In mere moments, three floors collapse in on itself and surrender to smoke and flame.

Isis smiles as she stops in front of my house. “Can you come out and play?”

“Get out of my city, you lunatic.”

“Now is that any way to speak to an Erelim? Please, my lord Felix, let’s keep civil. For the children.”

Trepidation and rage is hard to suppress. Every move she makes causes my body to jerk. I don’t know my enemy at all as well as I thought I did. She’s unpredictable. How can I fight her if I don’t know her?

The Ruling begins to part. Between their lines, two struggling victims emerge.

Eric curses as he’s thrown to the floor. He glimpses up at me through his mask before looking to his left. A woman falls behind him and he snatches her hand, “It’s alright, love. Nowt to worry about.” He murmurs softly, catching my eye again.

It’s Meghan. Eric’s human girlfriend. Tears run down her black cheeks as she leans against him.

“Isis. This is between you and me. Let them go.”

She latches onto Meghan’s arm pulling her from Eric’s fierce grip. A Ruling member slams a baton on his back, knocking him to the ground, allowing her fingers to slip through his own. “On the count of three, you and Tessa will surrender yourself. Or this human will die. You see, I haven’t time anymore to play games, Felix. I’m afraid I’ve lost a bit of my morality. Having your clan taken from you does that. Watching everything I’ve done for the last six hundred years derail and falter, tends to make you rethink your direction in life. Now I have one simple desire. To destroy you. It will be all too easy.”

“I’ve done nothing to you but hurt your pride. I’m the easiest target you got, Isis. That’s why you’re coming after me. Blame Dion. Blame yourself. But I’m not the one for your misery.”

She pulls a dagger from her hip. I latch onto Tessa keeping her from bypassing the barrier. One more step and I could lose her. The fear of it is nearly consuming.

Isis takes Meghan’s hand and forces her to hold it. “You are right. You are the easiest target. And yet, I will still get satisfaction out of watching you die.” She turns her gaze to Meghan. She brushes black tendrils from her forehead and soon the quaking of her shoulders subsides. Isis lifts her chin to gain her watery eyes. “On three, you will stab yourself in the heart.”

Isis uses Persuasion, an art performed to assist humans in making good decisions. For Angel manipulating freewill is supposed to help them. For a Fallen, we usually use it for personal gain: to get a car or a winning lottery ticket. I’ve rarely used it and never maliciously. I still have a conscious.

Meghan robotically replies. “I will stab myself in the heart.”

Isis smiles adoringly, tapping her on the nose. “Good girl.” She looks toward me, “Persuasion. We know what’s best for them.”

Eric fights to get back on his feet, “Stop this, please!” Another hit from the back drops him to the ground. An Angel wraps the baton around his neck forcing him up, making him watch. Eric’s eyes focus on me and he struggles to get through, “Felix. Please.”

I look back toward the house. Miley and Meryl linger in the doorway, holding each other tight. I look at Tessa. Tears pool down her red cheeks. Everywhere I look there is fear. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. This is my home. This my clan. They’re supposed to be happy and safe.

I’m failing as a king. I’m failing as a guardian. How ashamed would Tymician be with me if he knew? How ashamed am I?

“One.”

Eric’s pleas fill my ears. If I don’t save her, I will lose his Soul. Tristan will lose a Soul Mate. Eric will descend into Hell and be lost to the levels below. He’ll be swallowed up by the malevolence and the decadent breeds. I’ll never see him again. He’ll transform into a beast, a vile and grotesque creature only the Darkness could love.

If I go, I’ll lose everything. I ’ll lose the clan. I’ll lose Tessa. I’ll never find Kyla. There are so many things that I have yet to do. I hear Molly’s distant whisper. ‘You matter, Felix. You’re important now.’

“Two.”

But I am no better than the Soul that Isis holds in her hands. Meghan may have plenty more lives ahead of her but that doesn’t mean her life is expandable. She is just as important. She is Light. We are equal. I must surrender myself.

I step forward.

The sweet, singing voice of a little girl stalls my step. “Isis.”

Ema sits on the railing of the veranda. She swings her little legs back and forth, looking out with a brilliant smile. The color of the evening sky reflects her young beauty and the lights from the house illuminate her short black hair.

“You.” I hear Isis, her voice riddled with unbridled fear. She takes an unsteady step backward. “Why are you here?”

Ema shrugs, “Enjoying the scenery.”

The wind begins to blow with a brutality that forces me to shield my eyes. My feet become unstable and I falter. I knell to the ground, unable to support myself and I swiftly pull Tessa into my protection. Panic and confused yelps echo in my ear. No one can keep to their feet under the ungodly pressure of the sudden torrent of wind. It feels like it lasts forever until, like a switch, it flicks off.

Isis stands firm, unbothered by the bizarre event. Where there was once fear now excitement twitters on her lips. “Imagine the praise I will receive capturing you.” She bites. “They’ll forgive me readily.” Isis’ eyes land on me, “I came for fool’s gold, and I found a diamond in the rough. God shines Her mercy on me.”

Ema shakes her head. A sadness dwells on her dark brows. “No, Isis. She doesn’t.”

The ground begins to tremble.

I snatch Tessa back from the street, but yelps and cries gain my attention, stalling my blind abandonment. I watch the line of the Ruling as they begin to scatter. Something provokes their desperate screams and they break off into a full run. Shock stills me when I watch one particular man racing down the sidewalk step into the grass. The ground sucks him down and leaves only his shrieks behind.

Isis stays on her feet, observing with carelessness as her army disperses taking off into the Dust. With a Net surrounding her, she has little to fear. The single fighter remaining holds Eric and he unsurely glances around as his comrades disappear. Her confidence keeps him sturdy and he strengthens his hold on Eric’s neck.

Isis malicious grins, “Three,” she whispers.

Meghan holds out the dagger and shoves it into her heart.

Eric screams, elbowing and kicking at the ground. Meghan gasps, choking for air, but blood so quickly spills over her lips. A red river snakes down her pale blue dress. She falls on the cement, dead as her head bangs against the road. It takes such little time for a puddle, dark and shining in the fading sky to billow out from her bosom.

“Oh, Isis.” Ema’s voice distantly sounds but I can’t think, I can’t move, on my knees unable to undo what she’s done. I should have moved faster. Why didn’t I move?

Isis removes the knife from her chest and approaches Eric. “One.” She begins again.

The Dust opens and a Fallen woman steps out upon the road. She kneels in front of Isis, thoughtless to the dead body or the tragic scene playing out around her. She presses her fists to the ground.

I hold Tessa’s trembling form, unable to speak, unable to take my eyes away from Eric’s somnolent form. He gapes at Meghan, frozen as the bloodstained dagger hangs beside him waiting to end his life.

Isis drops it. “We’re leaving.” She tells her last remaining soldier. He shoves Eric from his hold and follows Isis into the Dust.

As simple as that, they’re gone. The evening deduced to catastrophe. Sirens wail loud and obnoxious nearby. Fire trucks, police, and ambulances assist the populace from the burning properties. What will they call it? A tornado? A typhoon? Or will someone think of a religious symbol to slap on a newspaper? ‘Bear Valley, struck by the Devil.’

Tristan takes a step forward. “Eric.” He murmurs.

Eric crawls along the pavement, “Call 911.” He latches onto Meghan’s arm, pulling her into his lap. She’s a doll in his arms, her head tossing to the side, her arms flailing as he rests her upon his legs. He gently slaps her cheeks. “Come on, love. Open your eyes.” He yanks off his gloves and throws his mask to the ground.

Slowly he touches her neck.

His face contorts in misery as he looks up. “God!” His sobs, a dry, tearless, and angry sob.

Tristan kneels beside him. The world is quiet in our grief. Eric’s heartbreak keeps all stagnant, unable to move on while he sits there in the blood of his girlfriend. Police move down the street steadily until they see us. They burst out of their car eager to help but their words fall flat as they focus on what holds our attention. One of them calls for an ambulance. He saunters up to me asking if I knew what happened but I can’t get words across. Isis had ignored Ema’s warnings. She wasn’t intimidated by the beast that lingers in the floors. She went through with her threat when I had every intention of stopping her. She hadn’t even given me a chance.

An ambulance stops before us. The paramedics don’t rush. They stand by, waiting for Eric to pass over her body. When Tristan attempts to pull her away, Eric only clings tighter. He whispers in his ear, trying to get through to him. He reaches into Eric’s pocket and pulls out a small box. Eric buries his face in her hair, kissing her temple, soothing out the wrinkles in her dress.

Tristan whispers once and Eric hesitantly nods. His hairless brows cramming in agony. Tristan slips the ring on her finger. With wild hysteria, Eric releases her and latches onto Tristan, burying his face. He curses and slams a sudden enraged fist on Tristan’s shoulder but he doesn’t let go.

Leon steps forward and with a simple nod from Tristan he reaches down and slowly, delicately takes Meghan from his lap. Her hand sways, the ring visible even as he turns toward the ambulance, taking with him any hope for Eric’s Soul.

--

I watch the fire crackle in the pit. I’ve built it high and I plan to go higher. I want to burn everything. If I could find Isis, I would dangle her over this inferno and listen to her scream. I doubt it would give me any gratification but I’d much rather think about her and envision revenge then think about Eric and observe his suffering.

I take a swig of whiskey. This is the third bottle and I’m no closer to being drunk than when I started. Fallen don’t have blood and so therefore getting drunk becomes a state of mind. If I really want to ignore the world, I need to go to Sheol. I can get lost in Mictlan, start a few fist-fights, chase Alu for the thrill and be chased if only for the humor. There are whores there, not that it would do me any good but I can pretend.

I just want to forget. I want to forget the utter despair on Eric’s face. That’s all. It shouldn’t be too hard and yet that’s all I see.

I smash the empty glass into the fire pit and watch the pieces gleam.

“Well,” Elisa shouts, leaning against the trunk of tree, “That was entertaining!” She claps her hands, “Very well done.”

“Get away from me.” I curl my hands, “Some help you were.”

She runs a hand through her thick hair, “Oh, quiet, carrot-top. Believe me, if Isis chose to come and rip us apart there isn’t much I can do about it nor would I. I don’t have a death wish,” Elisa bounds closer, “yet.” She takes a seat beside me. “You’re not mad at me, Felix. Don’t set your rage on my doorstep.”

I turn back to the fire.

“You had a setback. Now it’s time to move on.”

“A setback? She murdered someone right outside my house. Twelve homes demolished. This neighborhood has been around for a hundred years and she had the audacity to come into my town--””

“You got involved with an Erelim, Felix. If you think it’s over, you’re terribly mistaken. Be thankful that something drove her away. She’s out for you. Don’t think she won’t get it.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Perhaps not. Perhaps someone else wants you dead. Either way, you are on her radar.”

The way she says it, so nonchalantly, like it’s just an idea makes me see her lie. I snatch her arm, bringing her to her feet, “What do you know?”

“Nothing, I--”

“She murdered Eric’s girlfriend on my front lawn! Tell me what you know.”

Elisa clamps her mouth tight, sighing through her nose. “This information is handed down through multiple people. I don’t know how accurate it is. But.” She pulls out of my fingers to fix her shirt. “The Ten Great Houses want you dead. Isis is trying to keep her status in their society. She has to kill you or she’s out.”

“Ten Great Houses? What is that?”

“You know how humans, there’s a one percent? The incredibly wealthy. They have influence over nearly everything. Well, these are the one percent of Angles and Fallen. They pretty much own the world. Think of the Earth as a game of monopoly. Every clan is a property, the Ruling is Jail, Heaven is Go and Sheol can be the ‘No parking’ space. The Ten Great Houses are the actually players. They collect the best and most valuable pieces, trading and swapping properties, swindling money from the bank, and they have abundance of ‘get out of jail free’ cards.”

“Why haven’t I heard of them?”

“Does a game piece ever know it’s being played?” She pokes at the fire with a wooden stick, watching the tip smoke and char. “Problem is, they don’t like paying utilities. That’s what you’ve become to them. You’re a hazard. You cost more than your worth so they are throwing you out. Replacing you with a Boardwalk, or a Park Place.”

“Who?”

“Take a few guesses.”

My chest fills with rage. “Abida.”

She smiles broadly, “Not as dumb as you seem.” Elisa flicks a stray hair from her face, “Do you know why Tymician chose you?”

I face her as she steps up to me. Her fingers graze my pectoral and her smile forms into smirk, “Because he knew you’d never surrender the clan. He’d rather it fall to pieces then be handed to an Elder. But he had to pass it on to someone. So he chose you. A normal, average, nobody with a determination to never surrender.”

I snatch her hand, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I? Tell me, after what happened today, knowing it’s only going to get worse, knowing there are dozens of people that want you dead, that they will kill your friends, your family, everyone you know and have ever loved; will you give up this clan?”

“Never.”

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