The Taking (5 page)

“Well then. Let’s start with the best one, shall we?” Zacharias' eyes fall on me.
 

“The best is a matter of opinion,” Archangel Michael says. “Each one has their own gift to—”

“Oh don’t give me that rubbish Michael. We have known each other too long for pretence. I want the one that Separus wants. He only goes for the best. Does he not?” His almost hairless eyebrows rise.
 

Archangel Michael nods once.

“So, from what you tell me, that would be her,” the old angel says as he points to me. He turns his hand palm side up and curls his fingers. “Come, young one. Show me what you’ve got. It’s been a while, but let's see what tricks this old angel remembers.”
 

The smirk he gives me sends shivers down my spine. I am about to move when I feel Ben’s hand brush up against mine. I look into his eyes, and again I am met with the swirling ocean of concern.

I hear a whisper,
Be careful
. It sounds like Ben’s voice but I am positive that his lips did not move. My forehead pinches as I blink slowly. I must be hearing things.
Have we become so close that I hear his thoughts?
I shake my head once.
No, that can’t be.

Stepping forward, I meet my challenger. His green eyes have suddenly become bright with life. They dance as he watches me step forward to the middle of the floor. I stand ready. My feet are sturdy, and my hands raised.
 

“Are there any rules?” I ask as I try to focus on the taunting eyes.
 

“Only one,” Archangel Michael says. “There shall be no killing or permanently maiming. Powers are allowed, and physical fighting is definite. Street style is encouraged.”

“Great,” I say. I am not sure I hid my sarcasm. It is a little distracting watching the old one become more enthusiastic with each passing moment. If there weren't so many wrinkles on his face, I am sure his face would look like a kid who was let loose in a candy store.

“First though, do not forget your manners,” Archangel Michael reminds us.

Zacharias and I lower our hands by our sides, and we bow in unison for the traditional way to show respect before a
friendly
fight.

The archangel then says, “Ready.”

We both raise our hands, his in a more relaxed position than mine.
 

“Start.” I admire the business tone in Archangel Michael’s voice. I wish I could show the same kind of emotion.

My eyes focus on my opponent. If they are not taunting me, they are preparing for an attack. I watch as he takes a short balking step now and then to observe my reactions to his movements. He is sizing me up like a professional, and I don’t like it. When the demons attacked, the minions just attacked without thinking. A couple in humans would allow the attacking to be done using the human's experience with fighting. Some were reasonably good at martial arts, but none of them sized me up like Zacharias is now. He balks again, and I move in response. As soon as I have set myself up again, he is on to the attack. He shimmies in, landing a solid sidekick to my stomach.
 

I grimace in pain. No bones are broken but I want to be sick from soreness. He undeniably moves quick for an older being. As I catch my breath, he throws a white pulse at me. My guard is up before it reaches, and it deflects the attack. My limbs are glowing, and I catch a look of amusement on the old man's face. He has not harmed me, but he has managed to find the source of one of my powers. He throws some more pulses at me, which again I deflect. Approaching him, I know he can see me coming, but I don’t care. With this power, I only know the attack of placing hands on their bare skin. So I need to be close for this or I need to attack physically. The training to expand on my gifts has not been long enough to combat a proper enemy. It is the reason that we are here. This whole exercise is useless — unless he is secretly sizing us up to see if he desires to train us or not. I know we need the help, so I will do my best for the three of us.

I step forward faster while he throws more bolts of light at me. Almost at a reaching distance, I am ready to start fighting when I feel myself being lifted off the ground, and it is not by my wings. Before I know it, I am completely engulfed. My protective layer is on, but I am finding myself raised higher and higher. I flap my wings trying to take control. I can’t move. I struggle, but it does not do any good. He has somehow managed to pick me up, wrapped securely in the protective layer.

I look down at the wrinkled face. There is something in those green eyes — something disturbing; mocking and threatening at the same time. I don’t have to wait long to find out. A gasp escapes my lips as I feel my body being flung across the room with exceptional force by a flick of the hand. My barrier protects me from powers, but it does not protect me from the intensity of a physical impact. I give out a loud pain-filled moan as I slam into the solid wall made of stone. I hear my collarbone and hip snap with the force of the collision and a shriek exits my mouth. He releases me and I fall to the floor. For a moment, I lay motionless on the ground trying to gain the courage to move. Archangel Raphael is not here, so I will have to heal myself. The cold from the stone presses into my skin and I welcome it as it slightly numbs the pain.
 

“You monster,” Cindy cries.

With my ear pressed to the floor, I hear hurried footsteps coming my direction. I groan. I need to heal myself.

“Is this the best you can do? That is your best human?” Zacharias’ gruff voice echoes through the room. “It insults me that Separus considers this a worthy enemy.”

Aided by Cindy and Ben, I am lining my hand up to heal my collarbone. I feel Ben’s hand stroking slowly through my hair. I look up into his comforting eyes. I wish I could wipe that worry away.
 

Cindy has my uninjured arm and is holding it firmly over my collarbone, in case I flinch with the pain or lose too much energy in the process.

“They are only fledglings, Zacharias. Of course they are not going to win a fight against a being that has had centuries of experience. They are not even a year old.”

My collarbone has healed, and I begin on my hip. At least I can use two hands on my hip, now that I can move my other arm. It is an unnerving sensation feeling the bones slide back into place and realign with the reconnection of the muscles and tendons. I am glad Cindy and Ben are holding my hands in place. We listen silently to the conversation.

“Human or fledgling, I don’t care. That was a pitiful effort,” he snaps. “If Separus is after her then he will surely win. I cannot help you with them. There is no way they can be trained to fight Separus.”

To watch the discussion; my eyes travel over the cold stone walls — a fitting place for the mood. Zacharias talks as though we are not even here. I watch as he waves his hand at the door.
 

“I want you to leave and take your rubbish with you. Let me go back to my peace.” He turns his back to Archangel Michael not wanting to look at any of us.

Our leader stands still. Despite being abused by the lower angel, he does not show his wrath. It surprises me. I do not know who he is, but it is not as though Zacharias is an equal among the archangels. Either they desperately need his help or there is an extensive history between the two angels that we are not privy to.
 

The last of the damage to my hip slides into place; the pain leaves, and I begin to stand.

The level voice of Archangel Michael speaks, “Alright Zacharias. I will leave with my fledglings if you will look into their minds to see what they are capable of doing. If, after this your interest is honestly not aroused then we will go, despite the need of your help.”

“What is it with you and these—” Zacharias has spun around to face our leader, but at the same time caught a glimpse of me walking unaided toward the door. His eyes swell and his mouth hangs mid-sentence.
 

I see a small smirk form on our leader’s face. “Yes, this is just one of the things performed without training.”

“You were broken,” the old angel mutters. His eyes study me.
 

I am not sure what all the fuss is about, but I am certainly tired of almost begging this old angel.
 

“You see why I ask you to take a look, Zacharias. Do not confuse youth with incapability,” Archangel Michael says. “Although I must admit, at times they do push the limits.” A glare projects my way.
 

We have reached the two angels and stand waiting for the outcome, one way or the other.
 

I watch as the hardened look returns to Zacharias’ face. Lifting his chin, he says, “I am only doing this for you.”

Archangel Michael raises an eyebrow yet says nothing as Zacharias approaches Cindy. “I guess I should check the dense one first. At least then my assessment has a chance of finishing on a high note.”

Cindy’s eyes squint as she crosses her arms over her chest. Her legs plant firmly apart. I can see she is only a glimmer away from raising her arms for a fight. He has successfully pushed her buttons, as it usually takes a while to get her this angry.

As he places a finger on her forehead, I catch a twinkle in his green eyes. Something tells me that he gets a kick out of annoying people. His eyes glaze over as the white light shines into Cindy’s forehead. I watch carefully for any flicker or emotion to show on his face. The wrinkles do not move.
 

He removes his finger and approaches Ben. Ben’s face is a blank canvas as the white light illuminates. He has that same look he always gets when dealing with superior angels. I continue to study Zacharias’ face. Still no emotion is shown. His face is so fixed it could almost be a statue.
 

Leaving Ben, the old angel approaches me. The finger begins to probe, and the warm light fills my head. The creases on the aged face do not move, yet, I thought I saw a glimmer of something in his faded green eyes. If he trains us, I know what I have to learn to read if I want to know his authentic feelings.
 

He removes his finger, immediately taking the warmth with it. He studies my face for a while longer before he places his hands behind his back and begins to pace. His wings flick and dust bursts into the dim light. A deeper frown has formed on his face. He spins during his pace and takes one last look at the three of us. Shaking his head, he turns to Archangel Michael. “I will take them for one month. If I do not see improvement, they will leave.”

The corners of Archangel Michael’s mouth turn up. He bows his head and says, “Thank you, Zacharias. I am positive they will not disappoint you.” He casts a stern look in our direction.

“We’ll see,” the old angel snaps. He shoos Archangel Michael with his hand. “Now off you go and do your job
—
leave me to mine.”

- Chapter Five -

Standing in the dim light of the large stone room we wait. Archangel Michael has left, and we are waiting in silence for this strange angel to give some kind of instruction. In reality, it has only been a few minutes, but when waiting in awkward silence, the time drags. Out of habit, we stand in line giving him our full attention as the leader of our small army. He paces in front of us, head tilted slightly down and hands clasped behind his back. His strange shaped wings are flicking and losing more dust with each jarred movement.
 

He stops directly in front of us. I stand in the middle with Cindy and Ben on either side. Cindy’s arms are still crossed, and I am not quite sure what to make of the situation. His eyes pass over us one by one then finally land on Cindy. He quickly observes her demeanour then says, “Right, you, dippy one.”
 

I am not even looking at Cindy and I can see her face change to hold a death threat.

“Follow me,” he orders ignoring her scowl. He turns briefly to Ben and I. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” He heads toward the door with Cindy following behind, casting mental daggers into his back. When they leave the room, the tension leaves with them.
 

Ben instantly turns to me, taking my hand. It is the first time we have been alone for a long time. “Are you all healed now?” he asks. The concern is still in his eyes.
 

I nod. “You worry too much when it comes to me. Everything is okay, see.” I roll my arm that had the broken collarbone and move my hips slightly.

He smirks. “Do that again.”
 

I give him a playful push on the chest. “Behave. We are in a monastery.”

He stands closer, scooping me around my lower back and pulling me until we touch below the waist. “Yeah, and we are angels. What better place is there?” His tall frame bends as he leans his face nearer to mine and my body tingles.

Mustering all control, I hold a finger to his lips. His eyes beg as his lips pout. “It is a place of God,” I say.

Gently he removes my hand. “And we are just sharing the angelic love.” His eyes dance playfully as he leans in closer.
 

“We could get caught.” My words rebuke while my knees start to give. “It’s not like Zacharias to be the understanding sort from what we have see—”