The Nephelim
Chapter 3
animus and Staine

When two authors get together to write a story, it�s better to have them in the same place. Preferably in the same country, at the very least. Seeing as Staine and I are currently separated by a large stretch of ocean, we�re taking turns to write the bulk of a chapter, then Emailing it back and forth for additions and editing. This is my first chapter in the re-write of a tale we began nearly five years ago together. I hope it meets the high standard set by Staine thus far.

-animus

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Act III

Stretched out on his bed, Alec’s eyes trailed lazily over the pages of the latest Robin Devski novel he’d picked up the day before. A few short weeks ago, the single candle that lit the far corner of his room wouldn’t have provided enough light for him to read by, but now, even though his brain told him it should be too dark to read, he had no problem picking out the words on the page. Apparently his burgeoning powers were enhancing more than just his mind. Without his realising at first, his vision had sharpened and colours had become more vivid. The night sky held more stars for him now, and his hearing had improved to the point that he could hear every word of the conversation between his aunt and uncle downstairs. He marvelled at these new additions to his growing arsenal of ‘talents,’ wondering what could possibly happen next.

A summer storm approached Durwent quickly, bringing with it a semi-humid thickness to the air and the static hint of thunder in the distance. The sun had nearly completed its journey across the sky and was a degree or two from dipping completely below the horizon. This was Alec’s favourite part of the day, when the heat of summer became more subdued and comfortable. He considered calling Marc and Allen and going out, but dismissed the idea immediately. This was the sort of mood he preferred to savour on his own, and company would only ruin it. He shut the book and blew out his candle. Once upon a time, the glare would have left him with a glowing afterimage for a few seconds. Now, nothing but crystal clear vision. With a grin, he rolled out of bed and changed out of his school clothes into something more suitable.

“Going out. I’ll be back sometime later tonight,” Alec called into the living room as he headed for the front door.

“In that case, we might go out for dinner,” his uncle Steve returned. “You got money?”

“Yup.”

“Got your keys?” Lindsey prompted.

“Yup.”

“Have a good night, then.”

“Will do.”

The air was even nicer outside than it was inside. Alec released the knot at the base of his skull and shook his long hair loose, letting the slight summer breeze lift the silken mass off his neck. By now, the sun was out of sight and its light left a fading final kiss upon the sky. The clouds were feathered wisps of pink and purple on one end of the horizon, dark and ominous on the other with the coming storm. It was a good night to be alive.

Setting off in an unhurried walk toward the train station, he wondered how he’d survived so many years of being miserable. Now that he was happy, he finally realised how much pain the simple act of living had brought him. The angst and self-loathing that went along with being the school punching bag had given way to a grudging self respect that blossomed finally into a simple happiness at being alive.

Whistling an anonymous tune, he rounded the corner into Church Street and crossed the hundred metres or so of semi-darkness that filled the space between the infrequent pools of light provided by street lamps. Not so long ago he would have expected someone to jump out of the darkness and attack him. But then again, many a time people had jumped out and attacked him. He wondered if he would ever be free of the persecution complex years of bullying had drilled into his mind. But then, he had nothing to worry about now. Let them come. Let them try. Please… he added sadistically, but to no avail. The dimmed pulses of living thought that radiated from his mind painted a picture in greyscale that told him there was nobody there. Amazing how quickly he’d come to rely on this new sense almost as much as he did his others. The overbridge loomed above as he leapt down onto the train tracks and scrambled up the other side.

“You can get booked for that, you know,” spoke a female voice just ahead.

Alec looked down from the sky into the eyes of a beautiful girl in black. Her long, dark hair was parted in the middle in a manner very similar to his own, and her fine, pale features were painted artfully into a mask of Gothic beauty. Flat-tipped fuck-me-boots covered her feet and extended up under a black, lacy skirt that billowed luxuriously around her slender legs. A corset-like garment, also in black, closed severely over her stomach and chest, and let her breasts blossom as firm, pale globes above. Her neck was long and slender, her face a long oval that exuded beauty. Despite her ravishing prettiness, Alec felt no physical attraction for her beyond the simple masculine affinity for appreciating good-looking girls.

That was how he knew.

“Hey, ‘you,’” Alec said with a smile. “And what am I calling you tonight?”

“Ah, I wondered if you’d recognise me,” the girl laughed. “What gave me away?”

Alec shrugged. “Easy. You’re beautiful, and I don’t have the slightest need to throw you onto the ground and slip you a length. Makes it glaringly obvious.”

“You may call me Chantelle,” she said with a sweet smile. “So, what do you think?” She pirouetted, making her full skirt and hair flare out.

“Perfect, as always. You know, I never thought of you as a Goth. It suits you.”

“You, too,” she said, stroking his arm.

“Me?” Alec looked down, realising that he’d dressed all in black without even thinking about it. “I never really thought of it that way,” he mused.

“Well, it looks good on you. We make a cute couple, no?” she winked.

Alec had to admit that they did look good together, despite the fact that he would never bed her. Then again, he reasoned, he hadn’t the slightest desire to. In this gorgeous girl he had found a female friend – a girl he liked spending time with, but had no intention of having sex with. He smiled suddenly. Maybe he didn’t need to be alone to enjoy this night.

“I’m going to the city. You want to come?”

“I’d love to.”

“The train should be here in a few minutes,” he said, checking his wristwatch.

“Train? It’s such a nice night. Why don’t we walk part of the way, then take the train a few stations down?”

“Sure.”

‘Chantelle’ presented her hand and he took it, their fingers clasping together comfortably as they walked slowly down the platform. By silent agreement, they hopped down onto the tracks again and made their way through the dark in the direction of the city. Crickets chirped in the long grass against the fence separating the suburbs from the railway lines. The swollen clouds overhead flowed past quickly and the night was lit every once in awhile by a distant flash of lightning, followed soon after by the roll of thunder.

“So what brings you to our world tonight, Chantelle?” Alec asked, stealing a glance at her profile. She noticed his attention immediately and caught his gaze. A streetlamp to the side revealed her eyes as big and grey, framed with long lashes enhanced with a little mascara. Normally, Alec didn’t go for dark eye shadow, but on Chantelle the effect was dazzling, making her eyes look all the more pretty and somehow erotic. Just because it didn’t give him a hard on didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the eroticism. It struck him as very amusing, but refreshing.

“You really like this one, don’t you?” Chantelle asked.

Alec thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do. Maybe it has something to do with what you were saying. We do suit each other very well this way, don’t we?”

Chantelle hummed and nodded. “And back to your question, I think you can guess why I’m here, although I did want to see you again before I went on the prowl.”

Alec laughed. “It’s a bit of a shame we can’t be together, you know. You’re the first girl I’ve met whose… appetite, is as big as mine.”

She laughed, again showing that dazzling smile that cut through whatever guise she was wearing. They relaxed into a comfortable silence, and Alec mulled over that thought.

“Chantelle,” he began.

“Yes?”

“I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“What you’re wearing right now. The body, I mean. Is that real, or is it an illusion? Could I see through it if I tried hard enough?”

Chantelle stopped and gave him a hard look for a minute, then her expression softened into a smile. “You’re learning,” she said quietly. Alec returned her grin.

“You didn’t answer my question, though. Is it too… personal?”

This time Chantelle laughed outright. “It’s not like you’re asking me if my boobs are real.” She gave him a wink and a nudge. “They are, by the way. To answer your question, yes, this body is real. In order to exist in this realm, I need to fashion myself a body. It’s as real as you are, though it will cease to be real once I stop inhabiting it. I could easily have walked around in my normal state, which is invisible here, and merely projected the image of a body to everyone I come into contact with, but I prefer to go for realism.” She smiled in a way that could only be described as randy. “Besides, it feels better this way! Nothing beats a real, live human orgasm.”

All Alec could do was laugh. “Okay, I guess that answers that question. Now for the next one: Do you think I could do that? The illusion part, I mean.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Well, I might want to change my appearance.”

“To what?” She looked searchingly into his eyes for a moment, then darted her gaze to the surrounding area before looking back at him. “Those boys really fucked you up big time, didn’t they?” she asked quietly.

“What…”

“No bullshit, Aleck. This is me.” She passed her open hand through a section of the air and it shimmered into a shining disc.

“Holy shit!” Alec exploded, jumping back.

“Look into the mirror, Aleck,” she ordered. He complied quickly, sensing the tone of command in her voice. “What do you see?” she asked.

The mirror seemed to be lit from within, showing his face and leaving the background as the pale nothingness of the Void. He only looked for a moment before answering. “Well, I see… me.”

“Not your identity. Look at your face. What do you see there?”

“Uh… me. Green eyes, black hair, white face.”

“Facial structure, Aleck,” she said gently. “Looks. Fine cheekbones, lovely complexion, gorgeous eyes. Hair to die for! How is it possible that you don’t know what you look like?”

“Well, I…” Alec looked away.

“No, come back here.” She took him firmly by the shoulders. “Look into the mirror and see who you are. See what you are. You don’t think your father is hideous, do you?”

Why is this so hard? Alec asked himself silently. The face peering back at him so often showed him things he didn’t want to see that he avoided looking into a mirror at all. Pain he could take. Rage and anger he could take. But somehow the pain and defeat in his own eyes was more than he could bear. He didn’t want to see that again. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and tried to steady himself. Chantelle’s fingers felt warm through his shirt. Comforting. He could do this. He knew he could. He looked at his face, really looked, and had to admit that he wasn’t so hard on the eyes. “Well, no.” he whispered, meeting, and holding his own gaze.

“Of course not. You are his son, and you share his looks, as well as a good portion of his power. You are the son of an Angel, Aleck, and you damned well look the part. I want you to drop this shit now.”

“Okay…”

“No. This isn’t a sympathy lecture. Damnit…” She looked away, then turned back to him with a look of intensity that bordered on frightening. “I have to say it, don’t I? You’re going to make me.”

“Say what? What else could you possibly say? Okay, I get it. I’m not repulsive.”

“I’d be with you if I could, Aleck,” Chantelle said suddenly. “I’d have you in an instant, if only…”

“If only what?” Alec demanded hotly, suddenly on the offensive. “You’d have me if what? Why is it that you won’t let me be attracted to you? What gives you the right to fuck with my head? To fuck with my emotions? To… to…” he turned away in anger.

“No, Aleck,” Chantelle whispered, touching his shoulder. He turned around, embarrassed by his outburst, only to find that she was gone. In her place was… her. The violet eyes that regarded him held nothing but tenderness. She touched his face gently. “Can’t happen,” she said softly. “Don’t ask me why yet. I can’t tell you.”

Alec nodded and looked away. When his eyes returned to her, Chantelle was standing in her place. “So what now?” he asked.

“Fuck this tear-jerking shit,” Chantelle said. “Let’s go to the city!”

Liam’s eyes narrowed in frustration as he watched from his perch atop a lamp post. Lack of light had not impeded his vision in decades, but he could barely see the figures who were walking away, again hand in hand. To the eyes of a normal human being there was nothing there at all. He’d been watching Alec since the fall of night, then had followed until his quarry met Chantelle. Not that he knew the bitch’s name. Liam had been so intent on his quarry that he had not even noted her presence until Alec had met up with her, and then the veil had descended, shutting him off utterly.

After that, he’d not caught a single word of their conversation, and struggled to even make out their features through the barrier Alec had erected around himself. Could it be reflex? he wondered. Could he be doing this without knowing it? Liam cupped his pointed chin in his hand. It was a situation in which he’d like privacy, no doubt of that. They were moving again now, but had stopped for a brief period. A period in which they had disappeared entirely to his vision. His probes bounced off harmlessly, and he had had to mentally retreat quickly for fear of discovery. Had they been kissing? Yes, that had to be it. The boy had designs on this girl, no doubt, and he had sought privacy for this small act of intimacy. He scowled as he looked down, staring daggers at the retreating backs of the insubstantial pair as they faded into the distance. His Master would not be pleased.

Crouching tightly, he leapt upward, his body exploding into a thousand shards of darkness, then disappearing entirely.

Alec and Chantelle reached the platform for Tremaine Terrace. Jumping up to ground level, Alec reached a gentlemanly hand down to help Chantelle up.

“Who says chivalry is dead?” she chuckled, straightening her outfit.

“Not I,” Alec answered with a grin.

Rather than drive them apart, the conflict had cleared the air. Obviously she had a good reason for keeping information from him. After what she had said, she obviously cared for him a great deal. While he still couldn’t understand her motives for keeping them apart, he could now accept them.

“This isn’t far from where I go to school,” Alec remarked.

“I know.”

“That’s right, I forgot. You were stalking me, weren’t you?”

“Got to amuse myself somehow.”

They took a seat on one of the evil corrugated rail benches to wait for their ride. The train hadn’t passed them on their way, so it should only be a few minutes away at most.

“So, where are we off to first?” Alec asked around the cigarette he was lighting.

“Well, we could try your usual haunts,” she ventured. “Or,” she grinned mischievously, “we could try mine. Wanna’ hit the clubs?”

“But I’m not old enough to… oh, yeah.”

“Like to try the illusion thing we were talking about earlier?”

“Sure!”

“I thought you might,” Chantelle said slyly. “Could you light me one of those?”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Alec said in surprise, pulling out his pack again.

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to die of cancer, is it?”

“Not really,” he chuckled.

“Neither will you, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She took the offered cigarette between her lips and leaned forward for Alec to light it.

“Pity the same can’t be said of Allen and Marc,” Alec said with a sigh.

“Sweet of you, but I somehow doubt those two will have to worry.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Are you hiding something from me again?”

“The thought never crossed my mind, darling,” Chantelle smirked, blowing smoke from her nostrils.

“Uh huh. So, where do you usually go to pick up guys?”

“I’m not some bar-hopping tramp, I’ll have you know!” she shrieked in mock outrage, “I only occasionally pick up guys in a bar, just for something different. Normally I have an idea in mind before I choose a man, then I go for him. I like to approach them in different ways… I might tell you about it sometime.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time right now.”

“Hm…” she grinned wickedly. “Well, remember how I told you that most guys freak out when an invisible girl talks to them?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, let’s just say that some guys find that a turn-on.”

“No way!”

“Yes, way.”

“You just appeared out of thin air and… fucked some guy?”

“There was a little more to it than that!”

“Such as?”

Chantelle looked up at the stars, her expression dreamy, “Romance! The thrill of the moment. It’s not just a matter of jumping on a guy and doing the deed. There’s the lead-up… the seduction.”

“This is getting you horny, isn’t it?” Alec asked in amazement.

“Well… yeah. Of course it is.”

“Predator,” Alec said, grinning.

“You could be, too, you know.”

“Really?”

Just then, the whistling howl of an oncoming train interrupted their conversation.

“On our way, boyo,” said Chantelle, flicking her cigarette ahead of the train and standing.

“Hang on. Wait a sec’!”

“The… CityTrain… arriving on… Platform… One… will arrive in approximately… two… minutes,” announced the automated announcement system, approximately two minutes late.

“What’s this about me being a predator?” Alec asked as he followed the sound of Chantelle’s laughter onto the train.

The music hammered at Raphael’s eardrums and vibrated through his body as he made his way through the upper level of Nacht, a Goth club situated on Turnam’s main drag. His face was its usual stone mask as he let his eyes sweep the leather- and lace-clad bodies writhing around him, leaning against walls or sprawling at the scattered tables. This was his favourite club because, unlike most of the other dives in the area, they had a doorman who was none too easy on the crowds. Only the beautiful and the intense were allowed in. No exceptions were allowed, ensuring that everyone who did make it through the door was the cream of the nocturnal crop. It was elitist bullshit, he knew, designed to make the pretentious posers who frequented the club feel special and to give the club an exclusive reputation, but it did raise the bar as far as appearances went. Unfortunately, appearances alone only went so far.

Piercings, chains, straps, buckles, black fabric and white faces as far as the eye could see. He picked out the vamp wannabes’, the necros, the Satanists and the neo-pagans as he stalked by, his eyes looking for one thing and one thing alone. Despite appearances, he was not here for a good time. He was here to recruit. Clean and cold-sober, Raphael’s mind was like a scythe tonight. Predictably, most of the people here were of no consequence to him. That was plain just by looking at them. There were, however, some very notable exceptions. Raphael’s eyes met with those of a girl leaning against the opposite wall. Unlike most of the other patrons, her shoulder-length hair was platinum blonde rather than black, and stained dark red at the tips. Her predatory gaze met his with an intensity that would have left a puddle at the feet of a lesser man, but he held firm. There was something alien about her appearance that set his teeth on edge. Shuttering his eyes slightly, he let his vision shift and saw faint tendrils reaching out from her aura to stroke the bodies of those around her. Raphael’s face went dead white as her eyes narrowed in recognition. He knew, and she knew that he knew. Would she react? For a long moment they regarded one another in silence across the crowded room. She finally looked away, and he let out his breath slowly. Thank the heavens for that.

Moving on, Raphael scanned the face of each and every person in sight, searching for that special something that would tell him he’d found what he was looking for. He finished his sweep of the upper level and pushed past a couple necking on the stairs down into the lower level. The atmosphere changed subtly, became closer and more humid amidst the throngs of revellers crowded around the small stage against the back of the club. A dread-headed twenty-something in a studded leather jacket belted out the lyrics to an old Cradle of Filth anthem, backed up by a screaming trio of deranged looking band members who thrashed their instruments brutally. Raphael sighed. This was futile. The bar beckoned to him, and he decided to call it a night.

“Scotch, straight up,” he instructed the bartender, yet another pale figure in basic black. Then again, so was Raphael. He caught his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar, noting his clean-shaven scalp, and the jet-black moustache and soul patch that suited his olive complexion rather well. They helped make him look older than his sixteen years, as did the unnaturally mature composure he wore like a second skin. Dark hazel eyes glared almost angrily from dark sockets – a sure sign that he was in need of sleep – seemingly tireless and unblinking. He wore an ensemble of charcoal jacket over an ebony top, obsidian pants and gleaming black shoes. His back was straight, his shoulders square, again adding a few years to his appearance. He had learned long ago that appearances meant everything. Nobody cared who you were, not really. It was all about who you appeared to be. Since he acted like an adult, few people treated him otherwise. His other talents took care of the rest – acting was not his only strong suit. The bartender put down his drink too hard, slopping a little of its contents onto the mat. Raphael didn’t notice. He handed over a twenty, waving away change as he turned his head in search of the source of the sudden prickling of his senses. He saw them immediately and memorised their features automatically.

Five-eleven, black hair – real, rather than the usual cheap bottle job – naturally pale skin, a little makeup around her grey eyes, double-pierced ears. A luscious creature in a black bodice entered through the front door, presented her hand for a stamp and walked in with an air of easy confidence. Her companion complemented her perfectly, even sharing a few common features. A brother, no doubt, Raphael noted, and every bit as striking as she was. His eyes were green, his hair a little past shoulder length and the same colour as his sister’s. Strong build, though leaning slightly toward the wiry, close to if not more than six feet in height. Raphael picked up his Scotch without looking and downed it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he set down the empty glass.

His mind kept recording facts as he made his way toward them. The aetheric bond between them was unmistakable, if a little confusing. Something very much like love bound these two together, but something subtler surrounded them like a shell. Raphael lowered his eyelids slightly and saw a very faint edge in the corner of his vision. Moving his head slowly while keeping his eyes still, he traced an outline like a bubble around the pair. That sealed the deal. Magickal potential was one thing, but a ward like that was a definite exercise of will – the mark of someone who knew what they were doing. But which one was it?

Alec felt the change of atmosphere like a punch as Chantelle led him into the club. When he’d seen the lines up front he’d despaired – there had to be a hundred people in that crowd – but the doorman had waved them through the second they got within sight, leaving many desperate or angry in their wake. Chantelle hadn’t spared them a glance as she breezed past, taking his hand again and all but dragging him inside. Being only fifteen years of age, Alec had never been inside a nightclub before, though he had spent his fair share of Sunday mornings hung over. His eyes widened as he let himself be taken past the thick, black-painted pillars of the entrance. The music was oppressively loud, the air thick with smoke and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a hint of marijuana. A group of young Goths conveniently decided to leave their table, and Chantelle hurried him over before it could be re-occupied.

“Did you do that?” Alec asked in a yell close to her ear.

She nodded and threw him another of those wicked smiles she favoured in this body. “You in the mood for another lesson?”

Alec nodded enthusiastically. “Well, I didn’t really get to do anything except wear the illusion you made for me. What am I learning tonight? More mind-reading?” The last time they’d met, she’d done little more than instruct him on the very basics of the art and she’d let him touch at the edge of her mind in a very controlled manner. Hardly mind-reading, but she’d promised more later. That was something he’d been looking forward to learning ever since she’d broached the possibility that he might be capable of it.

Chantelle shook her head. “How about mental wards?”

“Sure,” Alec shouted. Chantelle touched his arm, motioning for him to wait for a moment, and narrowed her eyes in concentration. Over a space of about ten seconds he noticed the volume of the music go down a few notches. He looked at her incredulously. “How the hell,” he began, then realised he was still shouting, “did you do that?” he finished at a more subdued volume.

“Easy. The air is full of sounds. I’ve just blocked us from hearing the louder ones.”

“Cool, but how did you do it?”

“Well, right now you’ve got a ward over both of us. In fact, it’s been up all night, and you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

“I had no idea!” Alec looked around, probing with his ‘feel’ sense to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Sure enough, a very faint shimmer started about two feet from himself and Chantelle, vibrating slightly in the air. “What does this one do?” he asked, motioning about them.

“This one is for privacy. It’ll stop anyone from spying on us. Someone watching us with magickal vision would see us only dimly, and earlier tonight, when we had our little talk, it was dense enough to stop anyone from seeing anything at all.”

“You mean I made us invisible?”

“In a manner of speaking. You did it by reflex, but if you hadn’t, I would have done it anyway.”

Alec pondered it for a moment, and realised that there was, indeed, a part of his mind that was occupied with making sure they wouldn’t be seen or overheard doing anything out of the ordinary. It was more of a desire than a real conscious effort to do something, but it stood out once he realised it was there. He marvelled at the fact that his mind could do something like that without his conscious knowledge, but then again, he reasoned, his mind told his heart to beat, made him breathe when he wasn’t thinking about it. Why not shield him as well? It was more of an asset than a liability. “Can you teach me how to control it?” he asked.

“Sure. Why don’t I get us some drinks first?” Alec nodded. “Uh, I left my purse in the other realm,” she laughed. “Got any money?”

Alec grinned and extracted a twenty from his wallet. “I didn’t realise this was going to cost me.”

Chantelle winked. “I’ll be back in a sec’.”

He watched Chantelle saunter over to the bar, smirking at the sudden attention her waving gait attracted in the male – and more than a few female – patrons. Turning his back on her, he eyeballed his surroundings. The windows were boarded over from the inside, no doubt in a playful attempt to keep the sunlight out, leaving the front door as the only way to see in or out. He’d noticed a fire exit near the far end of the bar, but that would, no doubt, be locked from the inside to prevent outsiders sneaking in. From the ceiling were suspended a few massive mediaeval chandeliers made from fat iron hoops with candles burning dimly. That’d be a bitch to get past the fire marshal, he thought absently. Just then, he felt a tapping at his mind, as though someone was trying to get his attention. Opening a channel the way ‘Eliza’ had taught him the week before, he ‘heard’ Chantelle’s voice speaking to him.

<I’m a little occupied over here,> she thought to him. <Take a look.>

Alec turned in his chair to see a six foot bald guy leaning up against the bar, obviously trying to chat up Chantelle. He was surprised by the unexpected spike of jealousy he felt, then grinned and shook his head. He wasn’t her keeper and if anything, she knew more than enough about how to take care of herself. Chrome-dome was the one who had something to worry about.

<That’s okay,> he thought back to her. <I’ll be fine. Have fun!>

<You’re a darling.> He sensed a mental wink before contact broke. Just as he felt her close the connection, another mind brushed against his own.

<One of us?> it asked. Definitely female.

<What?> he answered hurriedly.

<No, not one of us. Not a wraith or a lupine, either…interesting.> The voice paused, and he swore he could almost see the sexy smirk on the face of whoever was contacting him. <You feel nice. Wanna’ have some fun?>

<We-uh…> Alec looked over to Chantelle, who was laughing at something her new admirer was saying. <Uh… sure.>

Again, that sexy almost-smile. <Don’t go anywhere.>

Alec looked around to find the source of the voice, but didn’t see anyone looking his way. He did, however, feel the mind coming closer.

<Close your mind! Do it now!> A new ‘voice’ blasted through his mind.

<Wha->

<Do it, Alec! Close your mind now!>

He complied, more out of fright than anything else, and turned to Chantelle for help. She was already running over, on the heels of the bald guy who was only a moment ago seemingly intent on boning her. Without a word, he grabbed Alec by the arm and dragged him to his feet, leading him to the door at a fast walk.

“What the hell are you doing?” Alec demanded.

“Get out of here first, then we’ll talk.”

<What’s going on?> Alec thought at Chantelle, hoping he’d opened the channel properly.

<Trouble,> she answered. <There’s nothing to worry about, but do as he says anyway. I’ll catch up with you later.>

<You can’t leave me alone with this nut-job!> Alec protested.

<Trust me. He has no intent to harm you, and besides, do you really think he’s capable of it? Remember who you are, Alec, and what you are capable of.> She paused, then added with the mental equivalent of a grin, <In fact, I think he was looking for you, not me.>

<What do you mean ‘looking’ for me? Are you saying he’s->

<Of course not! Just trust me. I’ll see you before the night is out.> She blew him a mental kiss. <Goodnight!>

Meanwhile, the weird guy without hair was dragging him out into the street and looking behind them.

“Who’s supposed to be following us?” Alec asked, wrenching his arm free.

“The one you were speaking with earlier,” the man answered.

Alec froze. “How do you-“

“I’ll explain later. For now, let’s get the hell out of the open and to somewhere crowded. This way,” he said, setting off for Royal Avenue.

“That was you telling me to close my mind, wasn’t it?” Alec demanded, stepping up the pace just to keep up.

“Yes.”

“Why? Because of that girl?”

“Yes.”

“Not very fucking talkative, are you?”

“Not right now I’m not.”

“Can you tell me where the hell we’re going?”

“Somewhere safe.” The man paused, and looked around, then pointed right, up Raine Street. “There.” He moved off again at a quick pace, again leaving Alec to catch up or be left behind. Alec kept his mouth shut, figuring that they’d eventually get to wherever the hell it was they were going. He’d ask questions then, and he’d damned well better get some answers! At length, they hit an intersection and crossed the street, entering a coffee house called Java Town. His new acquaintance chose a table in the back and sat down with his back to the wall, Alec assumed, so he could keep an eye on the door.

“Now can I get some answers?” Alec asked, taking the opposite chair. “At least tell me your name!”

“Raphael. Keep your voice down.” Raphael ordered a Turkish coffee from a passing waitress and Alec asked for a Coke. Raphael waited until she had left to fetch their drinks and leaned close to speak. “Okay, ask your questions,” he said in a low tone. “We should be safe here. I can’t feel her coming.”

“Finally. Okay, first up – what the hell is so scary about a girl who can talk with her mind? What do you think she was going to do to me?”

“Contrary to what you may think, human beings are not the only ones occasionally gifted with telepathic ability. That girl,” he pronounced the word with obvious distaste, “you were speaking to was forging a mental link between herself and you. Had she managed to complete it, she’d be able to find, or at the very least contact you anywhere, but you had to have opened yourself up for her to even notice you. There was a rather powerful shield around both you and your sister earlier.”

“My sister?” Alec asked, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, Chantelle! No, she’s not my sister. Just… a friend.”

“Hm. Regardless, when she came over to the bar, she stepped out of the shield’s range and left you within, so I’m assuming it was you, rather than her, who was generating it.”

“Yes, it was mine. I’m a little new to this,” he said, not wanting to let on that it was Chantelle he’d been speaking to mentally. He’d prefer to keep her out of this. “I guess it wasn’t perfect.”

“Possibly. I don’t think she could have broken through it, not so quickly, at least. Now, to answer your former question, that was not a simple girl you were speaking with telepathically. She is what you could call a form of vampire.”

Alec stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing. “A what?” Raphael fixed him with a glare and waited for him to stop.

“Telepathy you’ll believe in. Mental shields and bonds you’ll believe in. Why not vampires?”

It occurred to Alec that this Raphael may well have the same reaction to the idea of an half-angel – a sobering thought. “Hm… okay, let’s say I believe you. Why did you run?”

“I recognised her earlier in the night and she noticed my scrutiny. Either she was there for an easy meal, or she simply didn’t consider me a threat, otherwise she would have just followed me out and killed me. I’m good, but I know her type and killing me would hardly cause her to work up a sweat.” He said this in a matter-of-fact manner that shocked Alec. Really, what reason did he have to lie like this? He’d recognised Alec’s mental communication with the girl, as well as the ward Alec himself hadn’t realised he’d constructed.

A cold stab of fear hit him, and he realised that he was going pale.

“I see you’ve accepted the gravity of the situation,” Raphael remarked. “Perhaps now we can be serious. I noticed you the moment you walked through the door, but could not tell whether it was you or Chantelle who was standing out so brightly. The shield was around both of you, so I had to get you separated so as to work out precisely who it was. When she came to the bar I could tell instantly that she had no psychic talent. Her mind was open – not that I looked too deeply, mind – and she was unshielded. You, on the other hand, were like looking into the sun. Once the shield dropped my suspicion was proved correct. You really must learn to hide your talent, otherwise people like tonight’s vampire will be following you for the rest of your life. For those that live off life energy, you’d make a rather impressive banquet if they could manage to bring you down.” He stopped talking and accepted his coffee – a ceramic cup little bigger than a shot glass – and waited for the waitress to leave before continuing. “How long have you known you had these talents?”

Alec considered carefully before answering. He’d only just met this Raphael and had no idea what he really wanted. Maybe he was genuinely out to help him, but then again he could be like the vampire back at the club, or something even worse. Alec had no idea what the supernatural food chain looked like and he wasn’t about to take unnecessary chances until he knew where he stood in the scheme of things. “Less than a year. I started feeling things differently around the beginning of this year, and strange things have been happening since.”

“Strange things? Could you explain them to me?’

“Well,” Alec began, deliberately stalling. What could he say that wouldn’t betray his father or Chantelle’s involvement? His ‘touch’ sense was out, as his father had told him that it was an Angelic talent. Perhaps something similar that a human would be capable of. He took a sip of Coke and pondered the idea. Wrinkling his brow to make it look like he was in deep concentration, he stared at a salt shaker on the table and let the tiniest of pulses ripple from his mind. An image, dim but visible, appeared, again giving him the dualistic sense of vision, as well as a mild tactile sensation. Hardening the ripples slightly around the glass shaker, he gave it a little spin and sent it wobbling across the table. If Raphael was surprised, he didn’t show it as he grabbed it and set it back in its place.

“That’s good,” he remarked. “Do you think you could do it again?”

“In a little while,” Alec lied. He could probably lift the entire table, if he wanted to, and hurl it through the front window of this place, but he didn’t want to give it away this early in the game. Better to keep a trump card in place against the chance he’d have to push this ‘Raphael’ into the path of a speeding 18-wheeler…

“Alright. How about we work on your shielding? The one you have up now is sufficient to avoid casual notice, but you’ll need to refine it in order to trick people like our ‘friend’ earlier.” He took a sip of his coffee, which looked like hot road tar to Alec, and continued. “We’ve been here for a good ten minutes, and I haven’t felt a whisper of pursuit. I think it will be safe to leave here now.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” Alec said, nodding. He realised that he’d never had a human teacher, and it’d be interesting if nothing else to learn Raphael’s take on the whole deal. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a place we use for such things. It’s pretty deserted, so nobody will notice anything weird.”

Alec nodded. “Good idea. Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” he asked as they made for the door.

“Shoot.”

“How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?” Raphael countered evenly.

“Seventeen?”

That got a slight grin. “Sixteen. You know, that’s the closest anyone’s gotten in a long time. What gave my age away?”

Alec shrugged. “I don’t know, really. You just strike me as younger than you look.”

Raphael nodded silently as they exited the café and spent a few moments looking around. “I think we’re safe,” he confided with a small smile. “I’ll have to ask you to keep the location of this place to yourself, though.”

”Of course. You said ‘we.’”

“Yes. I’m part of a small group that are interested in the occult, as well as certain psychic and magickal practices. The place I’m taking you now is one of our public meeting places.”

“You meet often?”

“Not in public, no. It’s this way.” Raphael led the way back toward the train station.

Chantelle kept a discreet distance as she pursued her prey. She’d no idea what this Raphael had been worried about when he’d run off so quickly to grab Aleck, but she saw now that his concern had been warranted. She was a little annoyed that her son had stolen her potential man for the night, but she was more interested in seeing what would happen between them than getting her quick thrill between the sheets. A slight grin lit her pale face as she thought of how nice that quick thrill could have been, then she put her mind back to the job at hand.

There had been a slippery presence at the edge of her consciousness as Chantelle and Aleck had broken mental contact earlier, though she hadn’t known immediately what it was. The problem with telepathy with a beginner was that it was difficult to know what to expect. Sensations and emotions travelled across the aether as well as words did, and she’d assumed it was just something Aleck was feeling or thinking. Then the contact had been broken and Aleck had been left with whoever it was he was chatting with. Luckily enough, Raphael had somehow noticed immediately and ran to Aleck’s aid. He’d be a good enough companion for her son while she was not around, for he had quite a bit of talent. …for a human, she added mentally. The problem with being a goddess, she mused, was that she could not afford to use too much power when incognito. To do so would tip her hand and make her presence known to all who had the talent to recognise it. The same went for the creature she was hunting now.

Perhaps the word ‘creature’ was not the best word for Chantelle’s present quarry. She – and there could be no doubt that it was a ‘she’ – was the sort of girl Aleck would have instantly fallen in lust with, Chantelle knew that for certain. At five feet four inches in height and waiflike in build, he would no doubt have seen her as fragile. In reality, she was anything but. Her pretty, feminine features placed her age under twenty, but Chantelle’s quick probe dispelled that illusion immediately. ‘She’ was presently using the name Natalie.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Chantelle whispered from her vantage point across the street from Nacht. Sure enough, Natalie breezed out of the club a moment or two later, her posture and bearing anything but that of a teenager. The word ‘predatory’ immediately sprang to mind as the black-clad hunter stalked across the street, pausing every once in awhile to raise her head as though sniffing at the night air. Hair-fine tendrils writhed at the edges of her aura, dipping briefly into the aura of anyone she encountered for the tiniest sip of energy. She moved quickly in Aleck’s direction, following his unique energy the way a shark sniffs out blood in the water. She herself made no attempt to hide what she was. Chantelle smiled. Obviously this creature thought she had nothing to fear. Obviously, she was wrong.

Chantelle closed her eyes briefly – the effort of working magick in this plane of existence was a little more taxing than in her native realm – and projected a reasonable facsimile of Aleck’s aura a block to her right. Natalie leapt for the bait immediately. Chantelle followed at a discreet distance, moving the fake ‘Aleck’ as though he was walking at a leisurely pace toward Renton Bridge, the tall metal structure that linked Turnam Central with Addan Park. Natalie closed the distance quickly, hoping, no doubt, to intercept him before he reached the open air of the bridge. Figuring she may as well have a little fun, Chantelle sped up the pace and watched her quarry break into a run. She must really want Aleck bad, Chantelle mused as she started to run herself. Cutting across two blocks to the left, she ran to catch up with her fake ‘Aleck’ and fulfil the final part of her plan. She was panting by the time she reached the fountain in the park on Corvis Avenue – just one block away from the bridge – and none too soon, as Natalie had just appeared on the other side.

“Damned human body!” she said quietly as she took a seat beside the big memorial fountain and allowed the false Aleck aura to settle around her. She pretended not to notice Natalie’s presence and leant forward to rest her head on her knees for a moment. Exertion during sex was to be expected, enjoyed even. Working up a sweat from running was not her idea of a good time, and her heels were killing her.

“Nice night for it,” spoke Natalie in girlish tones.

“Huh?” Chantelle popped her head up in feigned surprise.

“A walk. May I?” she asked, gesturing to the bench beside Chantelle. Getting a nod, she took a seat and turned to Chantelle, smiling.

Smug bitch, thought Chantelle, careful to keep it hidden behind the personality façade she donned when wearing this particular body. “I didn’t see you,” she said aloud.

A soft laugh, and the flash of predator she’d seen when watching earlier. “You know, I thought you were a boy back there. I can live with a girl, though. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“What? I-“ Chantelle felt Natalie’s vampiric tendrils touch her own aura and cringed involuntarily. They sank in deep, stroking her flesh with their weightless, insubstantial touch. She felt heat passing into her, running through her body and swirling around her nipples and crotch, and nearly swooned. So that was her game, eh?

“Come on, now,” Natalie purred, running a confident hand down Chantelle’s naked arm and sending electric shivers down her body. “Nobody’s around, you know. Nobody can see.” She ran her fingertips up to her neck and down slowly to stop a bare inch above her cleavage. Though this was their first touch, Chantelle found that she was breathing heavily, her breath again coming in short, rapid gasps, amazed at how quickly this vampire had gotten her wet. She’d gotten all keyed up when talking to Raphael earlier that night, and now her much neglected – and very human – body was moving straight back into the groove. It seemed that a simple hunt had turned into something a lot more fun. She let slip a sly smile as Natalie looked away, then quickly donned the mask of innocence she’d been wearing previously.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, moving away slightly. Natalie fixed her with brown eyes that smouldered with lust… and hunger. The tendrils continued their stroking of Chantelle’s body, feeding her warmth and sexual need and slowly drinking in her body’s energy. The sensation was unlike Chantelle – or Nischa, for that matter – had ever felt, and that was saying something. She swooned, her mind and body both reeling with lust, and let her head fall back in pleasure, feeling Natalie’s fingers unbuttoning the metal clasp at the front of her corset, releasing the pressure on her breasts and loosening the laces enough to push it down. The material lacked herringbones, and was much less stiff than that of a normal corset for just this purpose, and slid down easily to reveal the pale swell of her breasts and her already hard nipples. Natalie took one of these in her mouth and gently rolled the other between her fingers. The sensation of direct-skin energy taking felt both hot and cold, and indescribably erotic. There was no doubt now: she needed this, and needed it now. Natalie’s roaming hands slid down the lacy skirt and came up underneath against the bare skin of Chantelle’s thigh. Slowly, ever so slowly, she tickled and stroked her way up to her crotch only to find – to her very evident surprise – that her intended meal was not wearing panties.

At this first touch to her pussy, Chantelle’s body bucked and she grabbed Natalie’s face in her hands, pulling her close for an urgent, almost frantic kiss. Their lips mashed together hard, their tongues swirling together. Natalie’s fingers continued their work on Chantelle’s pussy, spreading her open and tickling up and down. She slipped a single finger inside and Chantelle’s whole world spun.

“I… I… I’m,” she whimpered in honest passion. The act was over, and she was, for now at least, at Natalie’s mercy.

“I know, baby,” Natalie whispered into her ear. “Just lay back and let Natalie take care of you.” Her tongue stroked along Chantelle’s jawline as she kissed her way up to her ear and down her neck. Chantelle went stiff, realising what was about to happen, then relaxed as Natalie worked her was down to her breasts and then knelt in front of her, assuming the position for what promised to be the ride of a lifetime. Chantelle set her booted feet on the bench to either side of her, spreading wide, and leaned back as far as she could to push her wet pussy out at Natalie’s face. Natalie smiled and took a breath, then blew gently across Chantelle’s splayed womanhood, making her whimper.

“Please,” she begged. “I can’t hold it, please.”

Natalie didn’t say another word. She touched the tip of her tongue directly onto Chantelle’s clit, making her shudder, and placed her lips around it, sucking it gently as she let her tongue swirl around the little bud. Chantelle’s hand pressed her head down as she eagerly lapped at her pussy, moving her tongue in a frenzy ‘til Chantelle nearly screamed, then slowing down and running lazy circles back around the edges of her clit and tickling the hood. Shifting position, Natalie slowly pushed a finger into her as she went crazy with her tongue, then slowed again as she eased it out, adding another finger and pushing in again.

“I’m gonna’… oh, I’m gonna’ come,” Chantelle panted.

“Not yet, pretty one,” Natalie murmured. Her tongue whispered gently up and down Chantelle's slit, coming up to tickle maddeningly faintly around and around her clit without making actual contact. Chantelle’s sexual tension was delicious, forming, but not releasing, a staggering amount of energy. Natalie played Chantelle’s nerves like a harp, bringing her to the shuddering brink of climax over and over, but never letting her quite reach it. Her teasing, torturous touches, coupled with the aetheric stroking of her vampiric extensions slowly built the pleasure to critical mass.

Just when Chantelle felt she couldn’t handle it any longer and cried out for release, Natalie’s fingers began to piston hard into her, her tongue a pink blur against the swollen, reddened flesh of her love button. Chantelle’s back arched and she pushed Natalie’s head hard into her crotch, coating her with juice as she came explosively in a low, wailing shriek that rose into the night sky. Natalie’s assault slowed into long, languid strokes as she sucked Chantelle’s clit gently, stretching her prey’s orgasm out until she was shuddering. With an agonising slowness, she came down and went limp, blowing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

“Wow,” she breathed as Natalie came up to sit beside her and take her in her arms.

“Hmmm,” Natalie hummed, her fingers tracing again over Chantelle’s neckline. She leaned forward and laid down one kiss, then another, working her way up again to her earlobe. Chantelle’s blood was flooded with endorphins, and she was ripe for the taking. Natalie moved in closer, but Chantelle pushed her back a little and kissed her again, her own fingers touching Natalie’s throat. Her aura was huge and bright, Chantelle realised, with her own energy, stolen in the heat of passion. The energy she could keep, but she would not be taking one drop of blood.

“That was nice, darling,” Chantelle whispered in her ear. “But it wasn’t meant to be.” Natalie’s eyes widened, surprise quickly turning to fear as Chantelle’s fingers closed around her throat. Chantelle let the ‘Aleck’ aura fall as her own blazed forth full-strength. Natalie struggled to push her hands away, but found herself helpless in the iron grip of one of the few beings stronger than she. Fear turned to panic, and her mind screamed denial as she felt the crack of her own neck breaking and she flopped limply to the ground.

Who… who are you? screamed her mental voice.

“Just call me a concerned mother,” Chantelle said softly, closing her eyes as she took a step backward. She let loose a mental pulse, and then Natalie burst into flames. With a fading smile, Chantelle winked out of existence.

“So where exactly are we going? Or is it your policy when walking to go completely silent?”

“Sorry,” laughed Raphael. “I do have a tendency of doing that, don’t I? No, I was just thinking, wondering where our friend got to.”

“Can you feel her?”

“No, and that’s what worries me a little. I’m usually a very good tracker, and right now I can’t seem to find her at all. Either she’s left the vicinity entirely and is out of my range, or she’s hidden herself, which is what worries me.”

“You think she could have shielded herself from you so she could sneak up on us, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“So where is this place we’re going? Is it crowded?”

“No. Not at all. We should be pretty safe, though. I’ll teach you to guard your aura so she won’t be able to track you.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Like a halogen bulb in a mine shaft, I’m afraid.”

”Damn.”

“Not to worry. We’re almost there.” He pointed out Central Station, less than a block ahead.

“We’re going to the train station? I thought you said it wasn’t going to be crowded?”

“Not where we’re going.”

At length, they arrived at the station, which was very busy by this time. Night-time shoppers and movie goers choked the entrance and the escalators down to the platforms. Keeping close together, they negotiated the crowd and pushed their way against the tide down to platform 3. The whistling scream of a departing train told them that they had just missed the 8:20, as did the mass of people pushing up the stairs and escalators. A dozen or so latecomers were still on the platform, waiting for the next train. Raphael led the way to the very end of the platform and walked straight up to a pair of teenagers leaning against the far wall.

“Stand up straight and look grim,” he instructed Alec under his breath as he approached. “Rail authority,” he said, producing an identification card from his wallet. “I must ask you to vacate this end of the platform.”

“Why the fuck should we?” asked the taller of the two teenagers.

“Because I goddamned well told you to, that’s why!” Raphael snapped. “My job is hard enough without having to deal with little pricks like you. Now get out of here before I have security drag you out.”

“Hey, sorry, man. Just asking,” the teen said, his hands raised as he backed off. Raphael grunted and motioned for Alec to follow him, then jumped off the platform onto the lines.

“That was convincing,” Alec said with a smirk.

“Usually works.”

“Where’d you get the fake ID?”

“It’s not fake. I had a friend of mine conveniently lose his, and put my photo on it.” This level of the station was underground, with the tracks leading off into tunnels in both directions. They jumped up onto a much narrower platform on the other side of the track that Alec had no idea even existed. It started a few metres inside the tunnel, effectively hiding it from public view. “This path is for rail maintenance crews,” Raphael told him. “It goes all the way to the end of the tunnel at the next station.”

“Doesn’t anybody come down here?”

“Not often.” He stopped and held up a hand. “Be quiet for a moment.” Raphael set his feet at the very back end of the platform, then set off with measured steps into the dark. After about a minute of walking in pitch darkness, Alec heard the footsteps stop, and a small light lit up the tunnel. Holding a mini maglite, Raphael took out a key and unlocked a steel door, motioning for him to follow. The room flooded with light from fluorescent tubes overhead as he hit a switch.

“Nice,” Alec commented as he took in his surroundings. Overall, the room wasn’t very impressive. Floor to ceiling, it was built from the same massive concrete blocks as the rest of the station, but without any tiles, plaster or even paint to make it more attractive. The public would never see this room, after all. It was most likely a storage room once upon a time, but by the looks of it nobody from the rail department had been inside for quite awhile. They probably would have noticed the ratty looking sofa at one end of the wall, and the half dozen chairs that were spread out to either side of it. They definitely would have noticed the stone altar up against the wall. “Where’d all the furniture come from?”

“Most of it was stolen from around the station. We found the couch, actually, down on platform three. I’ve no idea how it got there, but we took it just the same.”

“That’s an altar, right?”

“Yes, and no, we’re not devil worshippers,” Raphael said with a wry grin.

Alec laughed. “So what do 'we' do?”

“Take a seat on the lounge and relax,” said Raphael, dragging a chair around to face him. “What you’ve got to do is visualise the shield you are using right now. It looks a little like an egg made of glass. Try visualising that first.” Alec closed his eyes and tried to imagine the glass egg. Without his asking, his radar sense let loose a few small pulses, showing the shield as a shimmering profusion of lines around him. That made life a little easier, but he worried that Raphael might notice and start asking questions, so he dulled the radar as best he could. Eventually, he knew, he’d have to learn to turn it off altogether, but for now this would have to do.

“Okay,” Raphael instructed, “what you need to do now is visualise it changing colour. Try to make it red. See it in your mind as glowing red. Make it stand out – that’s it. I can see it turning red. That’s good, it means you’re in control. Now, make it shrink until it’s resting right against your skin.” It took him a little longer this time, but eventually he managed to bring his ward down until it sat like an extra layer of flesh over his body. It felt a little weird, like he was wrapped up in plastic, but he managed to hold it without losing concentration.

“How does it look now?” Alec asked.

“Good. It’ll feel a little weird, am I right?”

”Yeah, real weird. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

“That’s normal. Right now your shield is stronger than it needs to be. It wont’ feel as oppressive if you let it thin out a little. Don’t worry about that part for now, though. The important part is making sure it stays put.”

“Okay. I can handle that.”

“Good. Now, I want you to stand up and walk over to the altar.” Alec did so, wondering what Raphael had planned next, but he needn’t have worried. “Okay, now walk back to the sofa – ah, there! Your shield is slipping. The trick is to feel it, not to think it. Try holding on to the sensation of the shield, and letting go of the image.” Alec did so, and realised that it was alot easier to hold than it was to imagine it.

“Yes, that’s right.” Raphael added a moment later.

“This feels so fucking weird,” Alec laughed as he strode around the room, his brows knitted in concentration.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it pretty quick. It’s a little like standing up straight at first. If you concentrate on it for awhile you’ll end up doing it without thinking. That’s the goal here – unconscious competence. I think you’ve got that bit down, so we’ll get to the hard part.”

“Hard part?” Alec retorted. “I thought this was the hard part!”

“Not at all. You can sit down again now.” He took his seat again and faced Alec with steepled fingers. “Now, the most difficult aspect of this for most people is keeping their shield invisible. You need to let your aura flow freely through the shield, but keep your power trapped within. Think you can handle it?”

“Sure.”

“The reason you feel claustrophobic right now is because you’ve got your aura squeezed down into a small space. Non-psychic people will notice this, too, though they won’t know why. They will just feel like it’s harder to relate to you, as they unconsciously feel the absence of your aura. It’ll be easier to hide from people, too – unless you’re making a lot of noise, nobody will even notice you. You need to let the shield go a little, but still keep a hold of it so a thin layer remains. Give it a go.” Alec closed his eyes again, resorting to imagining the shield as a mass of lines the way he’d seen it with his radar. One by one, he let the fine lines slip away until he was left with only a few. A little at a time he felt a little freer, and he was surprised to notice that his breathing was easier, too.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Not bad. I can still see it, though. You can forget about keeping it red now, and imagine the shield growing transparent. Keep feeling it, but let the visualisation slip away little by little until you don’t see anything.” He nodded approvingly. “Good. It’s barely noticeable now, but I can still see it very faintly. You’ll need to practise that until you get it down, but I think you’ll be safe from vampires and the like.”

“I still can’t help but laugh at the idea of vampires,” Alec said with a grin. “I suppose I’d be a little more nervous about them if that girl had caught up with us.”

“You have no idea,” Raphael said with the faintest ghost of a smile. “Trust me, they’re not to be taken lightly.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There is, but not for tonight.” Raphael stood up and set his chair aside. “It’s been a pleasure, but I have to go. Will you be okay getting home on your own?”

“I’m not a little girl, you know. I think I can find my way.” Alec answered peevishly.

“Not what I meant,” Raphael grinned. “Okay, but I want you to hold that shield as tight as you can until you get home, then keep it up for a couple of hours if you can before you go to sleep. Hopefully she won’t notice you when you leave, but just to be sure you should keep the shield up as long as you can. Can’t be too careful.”

Alec nodded. “I guess. You in the city often?”

“Every other day, really. Here, take this.” He pulled a card from his inside breast pocket and handed it to Alec.

“’The Order’,” Alec read. “Order of what?”

“We’ll just leave it at the Order for now. My number’s at the bottom. If you feel like a chat, just give me a ring.”

“Will do,” Alec said, pocketing the card.

“I’ll close up here. Try tightening that shield on your way out, to make sure nobody pays attention to you. Have yourself a good night, Alec.” Raphael held out a hand, which Alec took.

“You, too.”

Leaving the storeroom, Alec took a moment to look around. Sure, it was dark in the tunnel, but he could still see without having to resort to radar. The tracks gleamed to the right as he made his way through the tunnel, then paused long enough to make sure he’d compressed his whole aura inside his shield. Ignoring the rising claustrophobia brought on by such an unnatural act, he leapt from the platform onto the tracks and clambered up the other side. Raphael’s advice seemed to have been sound – nobody paid him the slightest attention as he crawled up onto the platform. With a smirk, he gave his shield a final check and made his way to the escalator.

“Shields, master! He shields himself!” Liam ranted as he paced back and forth across the flag-stoned floor of a side room of the Sigurdian Circle’s meeting place. “I tried to find him again later that night, and simply couldn’t get a fix on him! The brat has-“

“You forget yourself, Liam,” Menthayel said quietly, turning his subordinate’s blood to ice. Though his master’s tone was mild and his expression placid, he knew that the Angel was at his most dangerous when he appeared calm.

“My apologies, of course, my Lord. It’s just that I cannot understand his power. First he spontaneously begins his own growth, despite the wards placed against such an occurrence. He grows in strength with each passing day! Where does he get this power? Who has taught him to shield himself? Surely he cannot be doing this by simple reflex. How could a half-breed-“

“Liam.”

Liam looked away with suppressed anger. “My apologies, my Lord.”

“Indeed. Through I find your attitude towards my son… trying, you do make a valid point. Aleck’s strength is above and beyond what it should be. And while he’s hardly a fool, he shouldn’t have been able to understand, let alone create, a shield such as the one he wears so effortlessly.”

“And his teacher?” Liam prompted.

“That’s another mystery.” Menthayel inclined his head slightly. “And I don’t like mysteries. Especially when they concern my kin. Still, whoever has been teaching him isn’t doing too bad a job-”

“Master surely you don’t intend to let this go unchecked!” Liam protested, “someone, something is working behind your back and we cannot even begin to guess what its motives are! You cannot stand by and do nothing!”

Menthayel smiled down at his subordinate. “Liam, it never ceases to amuse me how you always seem to think you know better than I concerning matters infinitely closer to me than they are to you.”

“My… apologies.”

The angel took a deep breath, held it for a long moment and then exhaled slowly. “This… discussion is over. I will deal with Aleck and his benefactors in my own time and on my own conditions. Now I want to know, how fares our dear, sweet Rachel.”

Liam smiled knowingly. “Rachel who?”

Menthayel nodded, calmly accepting the fact the girl was now dead and forgotten. Not even her own family would remember she had ever existed. It was not something he particularly revelled in, but it had had to be done. Morality was not the issue here, and neither was guilt over her passing. There was too much at stake for him to feel more than a faint hint of pain over his part in the corruption, and then the utter annihilation of the girl. Rachel had to be tested, and once tested, been found lacking. Her destruction, unfortunate as it may have been, was necessary. Remorse over it was pointless. “And Blaise?”

“She’s still her old self, for now. The girl was never very bright and it’s taking her much longer than it has taken any other candidate to appreciate the change yet. She still thinks everything going her way does so because of who she is. Honestly, master, that girl’s conceit is simply… amazing.”

“Conceit tends to be.” Menthayel added, a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth for the barest of seconds. “And human conceit truly knows no bounds. It makes me wonder though; the Bible mentions that God created man in his own image. Was conceit part of that image?”

“I don’t understand.”

This time the angel actually smiled. “No, Liam. I didn’t think you would…”

Now that he was out in the open, Alec did have to admit, at least to himself, that he was a little apprehensive. In a crowd he could feel blasé about having a vampire following him. On a dark street in the middle of the night he was prudently nervous, despite the fact that he was only a few blocks away from home. Keeping his aura tightly pressed against him, he released just enough pulses to outline the area around him, assuring himself that he was alone. He had just completed another mental sweep of the area and gone back to concentrating on his shield when he suddenly developed the distinct impression that he was being watched.

“You know, Alec, it’s a lot harder to find you when you keep yourself wrapped up like that,” said a familiar voice right behind him. “In fact, one might almost say that you’re cheating.”

Alec jumped and turned to find Chantelle standing a few feet away, grinning ear to ear.

“Sneak,” he said, catching the infectious grin and donning a similar one despite himself. “You could always announce yourself first, you know.”

“I could, but it’s more fun to watch you jump out of your skin every time I come around,” said Chantelle, taking his hand as they continued to walk. “Call it female vanity, but a girl just loves to know she can make guys weak-kneed.”

“You’d think I’d be used to it by now,” Alec complained. “Dad’s been doing that for as long as I can remember.”

“Don’t feel too bad. Most people would freak out entirely if I just appeared out of thin air.”

“Except that one guy, right?”

“Ha. Yes, true. So, was Raphael the one who taught you to cling-wrap your aura to your body like that?”

“Yeah,” Alec admitted. “Is it working?”

“Oh, yes, it’s working alright. Can’t be comfortable, but it is working. I doubt our little vampire could have found you like this.”

“So you know about her, do you?”

“Yes.” She paused for a grin. “I took care of it.”

“Thanks. I guess being friends with the patron goddess of nookie has its advantages. What’d you do, fuck her to death?”

At that, Chantelle laughed outright. “Well, not exactly, but close enough. You can let that aura go now, too.”

“Thank Christ for that!” Alec exclaimed. Releasing the ward was quite a bit easier than erecting it. With a sensation very much like relaxing, he let it fade and felt his aura expand to its normal shape. He left enough of one up to cover his talent, as Raphael had taught him, but overall he felt much better than he had with the full shield running.

“Hm,” Chantelle hummed, taking a step back and looking at him critically. “Now there’s a more useful trick. Raphael teach you that one, too, or did you work it out on your own?”

”That one’s Raph’s, too.”

“Good. I’m glad you were able to learn something so quickly. Perhaps you ought to spend some time with him and see what else you can learn.”

“Where do I get the distinct impression that you orchestrated this whole thing?” Alec asked, smirking.

“Me? Oh, no. Actually, it was a bit of good luck more than anything. If that vampire hadn’t turned up I would’ve ended up… well, you know, and you’d have learned nothing. As it stands now, you’ve learned a new trick, made a new friend, and are about to learn something even better.”

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It does, but not for now. How about we set a date, tomorrow, perhaps?” Chantelle asked, taking his hand.

“Sure, I can live with tomorrow. What shall we do?”

“Well, you seemed very interested earlier when I said you could be a little more… predatory?”

Alec’s pulse quickened. “Yes?”

“Then we’ll start from there. You’re only a little way from home. Think you can make it on your own?”

“Of course,” Alec laughed. “Off for some more nookie?”

“Oh, no. Just some sleep.” Chantelle yawned.

“You sleep?”

“Sometimes, and you should, too, if you want to be at full strength for tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Chantelle came closer and hugged him, surprising him a little, and gave him a kiss as she moved back. Nothing even vaguely sexual, more of a sisterly brush of the lips. She smiled at his sudden loss of words and disappeared in much the same fashion as his father.

A sister, Alec mused as he shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking again. Raphael had thought she was his sister. Probably because they looked more than a little similar. Maybe there was more to it than that. A friend who was an insanely attractive girl was something he would probably have trouble with, but a big sister? He smiled pleasantly. A sister he could deal with.

They were used to hiding in the shadows.

If fact, they were the best. Their ingrained human capacity to adapt to change made them far more progressive than most angels could ever be. Employing the skills granted to them centuries ago by the Seraph Menthayel, the members of the Sigurdian Inner Circle had the power to be all but invisible to mortal, and most immortal, eyes. It made sense because they were ones Menthayel had trained to be his Watchers. A tag the Order’s younger members now wore with pride. They were the ones who would see, but not be seen. They were human ghosts, the Guardians of the Mortal World.

Theirs was corruption of natural angelic magic, significantly modified for human use that allowed them to turn themselves insubstantial. To transcend their clumsy physical forms and become, temporarily, light. Or, more specifically, non-light. They literally became the shadows they hid in. Because the physical world they occupied is filled with shadows, and the Sigurdians could alter the size and shape of their shadow constructs, they were, for all intents and purposes, invisible. Seen, but not seen. They were the perfect chameleons because they hid in plain sight.

Because of the ancient angelic cast of their magic, hiding in the shadows not only made them invisible to most mortals, they were invisible to all but the strongest Seraphim. Only a being of Menthayel’s calibre, and there were precious few of them left now after their own purging of the ranks, could hope to detect a Watcher hiding in the shadows because aside from rendering the caster invisible, the spell had another remarkable property. It also functioned as a mental ward that kept the thoughts of the lurker away from others when hiding to ensure their thoughts, thoughts any attentive angel would be able to overhear, would not give them away.

Menthayel had included this function to protect both his Watchers and himself from other Seraphim and there was a very good reason behind that. Had the others known that Menthayel and his Watchers sought to return the balance, more than one angel would have actively confronted Menthayel, who, while he was probably the strongest of the remaining firstborn, could not hope to stand against the combined might of his brethren for very long. It was a sad truth, but the vast majority of the remaining Seraphim preferred to rule and would fight with both magic and claw to keep it so. They lived for themselves and the mortal realm was their plaything. They, far superior to the mortals, and able to fight any daevas that crossed them, could safely play at being gods.

Because the Watchers fully understood that their activities must be concealed, only the strongest among them had any real understanding of what they laboured for. That information was far too dangerous to exist within the mind of someone incapable to concealing it. Because their secrecy had to be paramount, Menthayel had been forced to take a serious gamble. He’d surrendered enough of his essence to make their mind shields so strong that even he couldn’t penetrate them. It was the only way to ensure no other angel could.

But the ability to hide wasn’t the only thing Menthayel had given them. The strongest of the Watchers, the Sigurdian Inner Circle, could overhear mortal thoughts, and from there, it didn’t take them long to work out how to influence minds. Menthayel did nothing to stop them. In fact, he even encouraged it for that ability alone would mean he could relegate many of the more minor tasks – tasks he would have to, otherwise, attend to personally, to them. It was a situation that benefited them all.

But like all gambles, there was always an inherent risk. Humanity had its own share of pettiness.

From the greyness, she watched that pettiness unfold.

Eight humans sat around a non-descript wooden table in a singularly non-descript room. A room that contained nothing more than a table and eight chairs. A room that was both silent and empty but for eight shadows. The eight were Watchers.

<The boy is much stronger than we anticipated.> Liam sent his thoughts around the circle that linked their minds. <So much so, even his father cannot overhear his thoughts.>

<What does that have to do with us?> the echoes of this thought had decidedly feminine properties. Its origin was, after all, the mind of a woman.

<Everything!> Liam ‘shouted’. Transmitted thoughts carried nuances far more effectively than sound ever could. That one word, contained irritation, anger and more than a little fear. <As things stand, he’s almost our equal! And still he continues to grow!>

A different male ‘voice’, <So? He’s a Nephelim. What did you expect?>

<A little more time for one!> Liam shot back. <It should have been years before this came to pass. We’d initially estimated at least three more candidates would have gone through the Star before the boy was ready to contest it. But at the rate he’s currently progressing…>

<Contest it?> the woman’s thoughts carried her annoyance. <What do you mean contest it? The boy will never go through the Star!>

Another ‘voice’ broadcasted its opinion. <I concur. His parentage, at least from his father’s side effectively rules him out.>

Liam ‘snorted’, <Fools! How can you be sure his father never planned his son would be the final recipient of the Star?>

<Because for one, the Star will only work on a human soul.> it was the woman again. <And seeing as the boy so obviously does NOT possess a human soul, it’s clear to me that it was never intended for him.>

Liam’s thoughts were clearly snide. <Don’t tell me you actually believe that dogmatic tripe our Master is so fond of spouting? Have any of you considered the simple idea that the human recipients thus far have only been guinea pigs to test the Star’s limitations?>

<Careful!> the woman warned, <you tread a very fine line. It’s not our place to question Menthayel or his orders.>

<Even if those orders benefit him more than us?> Liam countered.

The shadow construct of the woman twitched uncomfortably. <Okay, what do you propose and why do I get the impression I’m not going to like it?>

<I honestly don’t care whether you like it or not Lareina,> Liam spat contemptuously before turning his attention to the others that made up the circle, <But its same thing any of you would have proposed had you the gall to do it! The boy must be taken out of the equation before he can contest, what by rights, should be ours!>

<And why should it be ours?> another asked, <We were not the Star’s intended. Something you all should know.>

<And neither is the boy so I don’t see the point of this discussion,.> the woman, Lareina, added, her thoughts clearly ominous. <You’re playing with fire if you decide to go up against Menthayel’s son.>

<She makes a valid point…> another Watcher interjected.

<And how could you even want the power of that accused totem?> Lareina demanded. <You’ve all seen the results of its corruption! No candidate had ever managed to keep their sanity once the Star’s magic is unleashed! The price of failure is too much. We more than any other should know that! It makes my skin crawl just being in the same room with it!>

Murmurs of agreement filtered into the collective mind as the others voiced their thoughts.

<It should be pointed out that all the Star’s candidates thus far have been untrained> another volunteered, <none have had anything close to our training or our power. We should stand a much better chance at resisting the totem’s dark nature.>

<My colleague makes a valid point, we are the strongest, the most deserving. Ever since the firstborn fell from grace, it has been us who took up their responsibilities. Mortals fulfilling the roles set for immortals. But our all too human frailness has always been a thorn in our side. The Star’s powers would aid unmeasurable strength to our ranks!> Liam argued passionately. <But enough of that, can any of you deny the simple fact that the boy is an abomination? By rights, he should not exist! He has no place among us and for that reason alone, should be destroyed! His father should have done it himself, but if his sentimentality for his blood undermines his sense of duty, if it means he lacks the will to destroy what MUST be destroyed, then it falls to us to be the destroyers. We are Earth’s Guardians and we must do what needs to be done. Order WILL be maintained!>

<An abomination?> Lareina snorted. <And just what do you consider WE are?>

<We are human.> Liam insisted firmly. <We have a VALID place in this world. The boy is more than that. His angelic heritage makes him dangerous, unpredictable even. And he’s grounded here, among US! In time, he will be able to bring his full potential to bear and when that happens, he’ll not only be uncontrollable, he’ll be all but unstoppable! Not even his father will be able to keep him in check! We cannot allow him to run loose and so he must be culled,> there was an echo of a smirk, <for the good of the species.>

<How very treasonous of you…> a male ‘voice’ quipped delightedly.

<I don’t like it.> Lareina remarked, <If the boy’s death were to be traced back to us, there’d be hell to pay! I don’t know about the rest of you, by I don’t find the idea of running from an enraged Seraph a delightful prospect. And if Menthayel gets even a hint of this, I can assure you, he WILL be an enraged Seraph!>

Another ‘voice’, <And how could this be traced to us? We are, after all, the masters of the shadows.>

<Oh listen to you!> Lareina smirked. <Masters of the Shadows? You make us sound so… B-grade!>

<Enough of this bickering!> Liam ordered. <We must decide and we must decide now! All in favour of getting rid of the boy?>

<Aye…>

<Aye…>

<Aye…>

<Aye…>

<Aye…>

Somewhat reluctantly, <Aye…>

<You idiots wanna get yourselves killed, fine. But I’m still not agreeing to this and I won’t play any part in your suicidal plans. I abstain.>

<Then your objection is duly noted Lareina,> Liam broadcasted triumphantly, <but the vote is still seven for, and one abstained. I shall inform the others…> there was a slight pause as he left the circle long enough to dispatch the results of their poll to an outside party. <Good, now that that’s out of the way, let us plan the demise of Alec Roth…>

His last eight words spelled their now inevitable end.

In the greyness, she raged for days.

Because time had no clear meaning in the one place her powers were absolute, she could waste as much of it as she wanted to, to work out thousands of different, painful, ways to kill the rogue Watchers. And the thought of using them ALL was very appealing. They threatened her son. Her son! There would be no forgiveness, no amends that amounted to anything less then ending their lives. And if the slate were to be truly wiped clean, then she wanted their very souls. She would torture them for an eternity just to warm up to the task before creating many more eternities in the Void just for the perverse thrill of hurting them some more.

For a moment, she even considered adding Menthayel to her list. They were, after all, his Watchers. He had made them who they were. But sanity eventually prevailed. The seraph could be callous at times, but only when something larger was at stake. She knew him well enough to know that Menthayel wouldn’t beat around the bush. He’d simply kill Aleck himself if it was ever his intention. But even if she chose to, killing her son’s father would be a close thing by anyone’s standards. She knew she could probably do it, but she didn’t really want to be the one that destroyed Aleck’s father. Only a shadow of her former love for Menthayel remained, but it was more than enough to make killing the angel a decidedly unpleasant prospect.

But just killing the Watchers caused its own set of problems. She could literally tear them apart from the Void without breaking a sweat, but her magic would leave a clear trail back to her and she’d then have to answer for it. Menthayel would demand to know why she was killing his people and she wasn’t ready to explain herself, yet. Assuming a human form could work, but while human, she’d be almost as vulnerable as any other human with the vast bulk of her magical might cut off from her. That meant she could hardly just kick down the door, walk in and play table tennis with their heads. The Sigurdians, while still only human, were strong enough to take down angels if enough of them banded together.

No, she needed subtlety. She needed them killed off without any way to trace it back to her. It meant she couldn’t personally take part in the act itself because it simply wasn’t in her nature to be subtle when cut off from her magic. So intermediaries were needed, and as luck would have it, she had the perfect one at hand. She’d have to call her Guardian Spirit to service prematurely, but on the plus side, the human could probably use the practice. The trick would be keeping the girl away from Aleck…