Sweet Evil(118)

“Someone whistled last night,” my father said during the flight. The plane hummed with white noise from the engines. Nobody sat next to us.

“It was Kopano.”

“Did you tell him about that?” he asked.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

“So he listened in on your training.” He sucked air through his front teeth. “Ballsy.”

“You’re not mad?”

He lifted a shoulder and let it drop as if it made no difference. Then he raised the issue of the summit again, and my insides constricted.

“Sit as far away from the Dukes as you can tonight,” he instructed. “Neph don’t talk at summits. Don’t speak out, no matter what happens. If there’s a problem, I’ll take care of it. And don’t pull out that damn sword unless I tell you to. It’s our absolute last resort. Once that cat’s out of the bag there’s no going back.”

Together we’d rigged up a holster for the hilt around my ankle. He’d found a leather pouch to hold it so my bare skin wouldn’t be zapped. I was wearing black pants that flared enough at the bottom to hide it. He hadn’t thought metal detectors would be able to sense the celestial material, and he’d been right. I made it through airport security without notice.

The most terrifying thing about the summit was not knowing what to expect. I needed to prepare for the worst.

Ridicule. Torture. Pain. Death. Hell.

A tremor of terror racked me at the thought of eternal damnation. At the same time the plane hit a pocket of differing air pressure and the cabin dropped, shaking. I gripped the armrest. Not eternal, I told myself. It would be only temporary; I could make it. I closed my eyes in meditation. And then another horrific thought surfaced. What if Kaidan or Kopano tried to stop the Dukes from hurting me during the summit? They’d cause themselves to be subjected to punishment, too. The idea of anyone intervening was too much. A tear trickled out.

My father reached over and wiped it away before taking my hand. I kept my head back, eyes closed.

“It might not be about you,” he reassured me. But it might.

From the small rounded window I could see the speck of another plane passing in the distance. We would be passing Patti somewhere in the sky that morning as she returned home. I closed my eyes and pictured her face, hearing her encourage me to be strong. I couldn’t think about how she would handle tonight’s news. My dad had said it was too dangerous to call, so I’d left her a letter. It was not a sufficient good-bye.

A bell chimed overhead and we looked at each other. Our initial descent into New York City had begun. We had no information and no plan.

“When we get there I’ll check you into a hotel. Stay in the room until it’s time to go. I’ll send someone to come get you.”

That night, as I stepped up from the NYC subway with my five Nephilim friends, we were swallowed up by a torrent of partygoers headed toward Times Square in the freezing cold. Everyone was bundled up in thick coats, gloves, scarves, and woolly hats. I’d never seen so many people.

If it was this crazy on New Year’s Day, I couldn’t imagine what it’d been like the night before, when the ball dropped. Since New Year’s Eve fell on a Friday this year, everyone was making a weekend of it.

I grabbed the fabric on the back of Marna’s coat so I wouldn’t lose her as I stared up at the massive billboards and flashing displays across buildings. I shoved my other frozen hand into my jacket pocket. Everything here was supersized: giant buildings, screens, stores, all crammed together into a barrage of images and sounds. There was no way to take it all in; you simply had to let it envelop you. Get lost in it.

I envied the cool expressions worn by the other Neph, as if nothing were amiss. Would I have been able to share in their confident swaggers if I’d been trained to reveal nothing under pressure? I concentrated on not allowing my forehead to furrow.

We were well hidden in the large, exuberant crowd. There was a mix of national and international faces, visitors who’d come from all over for the Big Apple holiday. Thousands of sheer guardian angels bobbed along with their charges. Everyone was talking and shouting their laughter. The general atmosphere was euphoric, and many auras were blurry from the influence of substances.

After walking fifteen minutes through the masses, we turned down a less busy street. It was still active, but we had more elbow room and the crowd was thinning out ahead. We were close, mere blocks away. Kaidan must have felt it, too, because he fell back next to me as he walked, continuing to look straight ahead. Being close to him made me feel better, and I reveled in the occasional brush of his arm against mine. Even through our coats I felt the electric pull between us.