Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) (20 page)

"I see you." The little girl's voice was hoarse in the darkness of the tent, sounding so much older than her precious few years. "I see him."

The Dealer snorted with derision. "Shut up."

She sniffled, the sound more in keeping with her youth, and he heard the scuffle of her feet as she tucked them beneath herself on the blanket. The shackles around her ankles clinked with the movement. Moonlight filtered in through the slit, illuminating the corner. Her eyes were cool and appraising, but she said no more. Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "Whom do you see, then?"

Ashtiru's eyes glittered and she smiled. "The lost one."

The Dealer turned away, unable to bear the frankness of her gaze. "We're all lost," he murmured to himself.

"You don't like him. No one does," she said with an air of finality. "But it doesn't matter."

"Really, my dear?" he asked on a sarcastic chuckle. "And why is that?"

Her bright laugh tinkled in the stillness, and he paled as the sound washed over him. A foul taste coated his tongue and he realized it was fear. He shook his head, unwilling to believe himself capable of the emotion when her next words hammered the point home.

"Because you won't ever see him again."

His hand rose up, and the little girl shrank back against her blankets, ducking her head. The flash of terror that crossed her eyes stayed his hand, and he lowered it slowly. He knelt down and leaned into her face, waiting for her to look at him. When her chin turned a fraction, he said, “Next time, I won’t stop myself. Remember that.”

Ashtiru sat up, and before he knew it, her tiny hands had latched onto his face, the green of her eyes receding to an inky blackness. He tried to jerk away, but she held him fast, forcing his gaze to hers. “I see all,” she rasped, the age creeping back into her voice. “I see your death.” The black of her pupils grew until all he could see was the swirling darkness, the whole of the universe roiling away within. Pinpricks of light, like the gathering of stars, winked back at him as a chill froze in his bones. Her fingers curled into little talons, and the ragged edges of her short nails bit into his skin. “You will fall,” she whispered. “You will bleed on the golden edge of Vengeance, and your soul has been sold to bloody the hands of the beast.”

The Dealer clamped down on her wrists, squeezing, sure her tiny bones would snap under the pressure. She held tight, her body giving no sign she registered his touch.

“Shut up!” he yelled, spittle flying out to hit her cheek.

Ashtiru continued, unfazed by his outburst, and her voice grew in cadence, rising in the air between them, “His mercy is eternal! His will is written across time! Vengeance is coming and he shall reap all the rewards of Heaven! You will fall!”

He wrenched her hands from his face and shoved her back. She scuttled backwards to the blankets and huddled underneath, the muffled sounds of crying filling the tent. He kept one eye on the huddled mass of little girl, and lowered the flame on the lantern, unwilling to banish the light entirely. He went back to his own pallet and pulled the cover aside. As he slipped under the blanket, a cold spike of fear traveled through his limbs, settling to fill his mouth with a metallic tang. He swiped a tongue over dry lips and realized he’d bitten it clean through.

It was several hours before he could tear his eyes away from her and fall into slumber.

Chapter Eleven

Elijah’s jaw dropped. The tables once filled to almost toppling with leather-bound books were clear, their oiled wood shining in the wide open windows. He’d come looking for a reference inside a book on Egyptian hierarchy. It was not on the table where he’d left it. Elijah noted all books were neatly on the hardwood shelves. As he quietly walked over to a shelf and looked at it, mouthing the titles, he began pulling books for his own reading pleasure.

“You!
What are you doing?” came a sweetly feminine voice from behind him, “Put those back!” Elijah turned and his jaw dropped open to gape. She was beautiful, standing in the glittering sun. Her sleek brown hair was piled up in a messy ponytail, a lock fallen over her glasses. He fought the urge to reach out and brush it behind her pert little ear. She slapped a dusty hand on her jean-clad thigh, making a puff of dirt rise up. She sneezed hard as Elijah’s fingers fumbled, trying to find the words to tell her why he was there. She stared at him hard, her brown eyes unyielding.

Elijah signed, “I’m here for a book.”

“Oh, you’re deaf. Do you read lips?” she said as she cocked her head. Elijah shook his head and arched and eyebrow as he raised his hand to his throat and held it out to her.

She leaned in and said loudly, “I’m Avalon.
Av-A-Lon. What are you looking for?”

Elijah felt dumbstruck at that moment.
He leaned his head forward, almost close enough to kiss her. She leaned back and frowned, “Oh, bother. I’ll get some paper and a pen. Just a second.” Avalon turned, and with a swish of her hips, she was gone amidst the shelves.

Elijah took that moment to sign, “I’m sorry if I messed up your books.
I can’t talk to you.” He stared at his hands and sighed. “Useless,” he mouthed. His eyes shot open wide as he looked around for a witness. Avalon came back, her hair arranged a little less messy, a pad of paper and a pen in her hand.

He took the pad and pen and scrawled out a quick, “Not deaf, mute. I hear you fine. Can’t speak.”

She blushed as she peeked over his hands at the pad, pink creeping into the golden tinge of her skin. “Ah, I see. Sorry.”

He waved a dismissive hand and smiled back at her before scribbling again. “It’s okay. Do you sign?”

“Not well.” She shrugged her shoulders.

He felt like an idiot, standing there, grinning at her.
Wonderful.

Alex awoke to the brightness of sunlight, tangled in sheets and sweat. The scent of sand and spice filled his nostrils as he sat upright and raked a hand through his dampened curls. It was no use fighting any longe. The pull was insistent now, unwilling to be ignored. He dressed in silence and packed his bag. He was only a day behind Coriander and the big angel. It wouldn’t be too hard to track them down.

He pulled out his mobile and dialed. “Nico, it’s Alex. I need you to get me on the next flight to Cairo.” He paused, flinching at the litany of rapid-fire Greek on the other end of the line. “Look,” he interjected, “just do it, okay? I’m headed out to the airport now.” He nodded. “Thanks. I owe you one.” He ended the call and pocketed the phone before picking up his bag, heading downstairs.

The rest of the house was quiet, the lingering traces of sorrow clinging to every surface like a film. The house, full of people, was still and empty without Ashtiru’s presence. The weight of duty was heavy as he descended the staircase. He knew what he was leaving behind as surely as he knew what waited for him in the distance. A half-hearted smile graced Alex’s lips. Maybe one day Coriander would understand. He certainly wasn’t going to get the chance to explain it to her.

“You’re leaving.”

Alex lifted his hand from the doorknob and whipped his head around to stare at Lucius. “Yeah.”

“Change your mind, then?”

“Something like that.”

“I trust him, you know. Jude,” Lucius clarified.

He sighed, taking the bag in both hands. “So do I.”

“But not enough to think he can do it on his own.” Lucius’ lips flattened to a tight line.

“That isn’t the case,” Alex said softly. “This is my child we’re talking about. I meant it when I said I couldn’t go, but…” His voice trailed off as Lucius nodded.

“You’re her father.” The angel’s eyes were sober with compassion.

“Yes. Some priorities take precedence.”

“Some things are greater than death.”

The statement hung in the air, latching onto his skin. Alex swallowed and nodded. “Then you know.”

“I suspected as much. I’m actually much smarter than they give me credit for.” Lucius smiled with warmth. “The technicalities involved in the lives of deities are complex, but in the end, it all comes back to death. It’s pretty morbid, really.”

Alex chuckled. “I’ve been running a long time. Afraid of what would come.” Blue light misted over him and he pointed to the faint sparkle. “I can’t run anymore.”

“A brave sentiment.”

“A guilty conscience.”

“He will bring them home.”

“We’re not talking about the same ‘he’, are we?”

Lucius took in a deep breath and let it out with purpose, fixing him with his gaze. “Our will is His will. And it has already been written. All that’s left is to carry it out. That’s what we do. You, me. All of us.”

“Are you saying that what I do doesn’t matter, because it’s already been predestined?” He couldn’t help the twinge of annoyance that colored his words. “I could choose not to go. Choose of my own free will. Are you saying that has no effect on the outcome?”

“No,” Lucius offered, “I’m saying that even if you choose not to go, the end result will be to His design. Do you trust Him?”

Warmth spread through Alex, and this time he knew who Lucius meant. “With my life. It’s all I have.”

Lucius nodded. “It’s all any of us have. And your life is in His hands. Mine too. That comforts me. I hope it comforts you.”

“I’m scared shitless.”

“Then you know you’re on the right track.” Lucius pushed off from the arm of the sofa and walked over to extend his hand. “Godspeed.”

Alex clasped the angel’s large hand and shook it. “Thank you.”

He was halfway out the door when he turned back to Lucius.

“Can you do something for me, Lucius?”

“Anything I can.”

“Pray for me.”

A warm smile split the angel’s features. “You know I will.”