The Nephelim - Chapter 8

Nothing suffocates you more than the passing of everyday human events,
And isolation is the oxygen mask you make your children breathe it to survive

I'm not a slave to a god that doesn't exist,
I'm not a slave to a world that doesn't give a shit.

And when we were good,
You just closed your eyes.

So when we are bad,
We'll scar your minds.

Fight, fight, fight, fight!

Fight Song
Marilyn Manson

In reality, the outside world was as calm and peaceful as the scene inside the hospital was hellish. Stars shone like jewels in the deep blue sky and the moon gleamed like a white beacon on high. In Delivery Room 2 of Turnam General Hospital, a new life was coming into the world� as another was ending.

A thin young woman lay hunched in the stirrups of the delivery room of Turnam General Hospital. Even cringing, biting her lip so hard she drew blood, her fragile beauty shone through. Her brilliant violet eyes were obscured by tears of pain and fear, and with every second that passed the situation became more perilous. Her pregnancy had, of late, taken a terrible toll on her body, sapping her strength and lending her beauty a frail, sickly cast.

When she spoke her voice was weak and shaking, but it wasn�t her mother (holding her hand) or her sister (arguing with the doctor) to whom she spoke. The words were agonised whispers, all but inaudible to everyone save for the one she was conversing with. A tall, long-haired man crouched near her pillow, pleading with her in low, anguished tones. Emerald green eyes were bloodshot and full of tears, and his slender, black-nailed fingers shook where they rested on her large stomach.

�Please, Emily,� he begged. �He�s shielding you. I can�t help you while he lives.�

�We�re not going to hurt your baby,� said a nurse earnestly, adjusting her drip.

�She�s not talking to anyone actually here,� snapped Lindsey angrily. �She thinks she�s talking to the baby�s father.�

�She�s been at it for days, poor dear,� her mother added softly from the opposite side of the bed.

�He�s killing you!� the man wept, unseen and unheard by all except his lover.

�I don�t care!� screamed Emily as another contraction wound its burning fingers through her body.

�It�s coming!� said the doctor, leaning forward. �You�re fully dilated now, Emily. It�s time to push.�

Her slender fingers closed over her lover�s hand, but what started off as a comforting touch quickly degenerated into a tight, agonised grip as Emily�s screams echoed through the closed doors and startled those standing, worried, in the corridors.

The birth was slow and terribly agonising for all present. Emily had long since screamed herself hoarse and had been reduced to dry guttural sobs, her mother fettered fearfully, stroking her daughter�s sweat-damp hair and trying desperately to whisper encouragement. Lindsey had retreated to the furthest corner of the room where she watched with wide horrified eyes, too scared to help, but unable to leave. The dark-haired man alternated between intense hatred directed at the doctor � the only person in the room that maintained a sense of calm � and very real fear for the woman he loved more than life itself.

�I can see the head,� the doctor shouted from between Emily�s legs. �Come on luv, give us one more big push!�

Her face clouded over with pain, Emily gripped her beloved�s hand harder and did as instructed.

�Emily, no!� her lover howled, the hand not in hers resting lightly on her belly as his face screwed up in intense concentration.

�It�s a boy!� announced the doctor, lifting away a large and silent child.

�What will you call him?� asked the nurse fondly as she wiped the child down.

�Fight, Emily!� the man shouted frantically. �I can�t save you if you won�t fight!�

�Care for our son, Menthayel,� Emily said, too softly for anyone else to hear. �He�s all that matters now��

Unseen by all, the Seraph Menthayel knelt upon the floor, his face in his hands, sobbing. For all his vaunted power, he could not save the one he loved. After all he�d sacrificed, everything he�d given up or gone without over the last century, he could not have the one thing he wanted� he could not have her. Her body, now freed from the needs of the parasitic child, was whole, but her soul had already fled. It was beyond his arts to restore spirit to flesh, and though her beauty had been restored, the Emily he loved was gone forever. The young woman who had finally made his eternal life worth living was gone.

He stared at his pale hands, at the glassy black nails, and watched them lengthen as his anger kindled and grew. As an immortal, it was not in his nature to mourn� but to exact vengeance. His flesh shimmered as he took his true, angelic form. Massive, jade-green eyes narrowed as he flowed to his feet and regarded his child with fury. But for this freak, this mistake of nature, his beautiful Emily would still be by his side. Where she belonged.

Child, Menthayel thought contemptuously. Only by virtue of its youth. The eyes that watched Menthayel were knowing. They held none of the innocence or ignorance of a human child, burning instead with an angel�s instinctive, innate knowledge. Intellectus, biblical scholars called it. A child such as this should never have been borne, let alone born. The Nephelim had had their chance in the past, and proven themselves unworthy. They had no place in the present! As Menthayel had come into being fully formed and aware, so had his offspring. The boy had power beyond human reckoning, but unlike his father, no fixed concept of anything beyond his own survival. That was the vast difference between father and son. The child had not been planned, so unlike the Seraphim, he wasn�t given form for a defined purpose. Even before birth, the angelic might of his heritage had manifested and he had shielded himself in the womb, blocking Menthayel from saving his mother. The child hadn�t deliberately tried to take his mother�s life, he had simply acted to ensure his own safety in the womb. That his birth had caused the death of his mother meant little, if anything, to him.

What other fatal blunders would he make? Menthayel wondered. Left unchecked, without guidance, this Nephelim would be a plague upon this world, with no concept of right and wrong, and only the basest of instincts to guide him. It was unlikely that the half-breed could contest a full-fledged Seraph, but compared to humans, he would be close to tangible godhood. And with Uhl Laeyn gone and the Seraphim divided, and generally unconcerned with the welfare of mortals, this child, grounded amongst the mortals, would be unique. A Power unto himself.

�This cannot be,� the Seraph whispered, looking upon his own son with revulsion. The Nephelim � a creature of religious folklore � had crossed from the pages of questionable history into reality. A thousand couplings and more Menthayel had enjoyed with the daughters of man, since the last of the Nephelim had fallen and not once had any borne fruit. Until now. Emily had been so happy to find that she was carrying his child. What a fool, a myopic fool, he�d been not to realise what a monster he�d created. An impossible progeny� it had always been the lesser angels, whose form was that much closer to that of humanity, who had created the monsters. Never before had one so powerful as a Seraph done so. If the child of a lesser angel was a being to be feared, what might this child be?

The child showed no fear as Menthayel stroked his pale plump cheek with an ebony claw and touched his already long � for a newborn - raven black hair. Instinctively, the infant recognised his own father, his green eyes calmly regarding his sire with detached interest. Seraphim harboured no parental instincts, for they had no use for children, and the child was mildly curious about his father�s motive for remaining. For a long moment the Seraph stared at his son, willing himself to strike. Nephelim or not, his claws would still effortlessly tear though flesh and bone. He could kill his offspring as easily as a human could squash a mosquito. They held the bond of blood, but that meant nothing to the towering Seraph. This� abomination had already cost him much more than he�d ever been willing to pay. No child could ever be worth Emily�

But it was his lover�s words, and her love for their child that stayed his hand.

Menthayel hung his head in defeat. He could not kill the child. But if not death, then what? He could not raise the child himself. A powerful ally the Nephelim may be one day, but until then he�d be nothing but a burden, and with his ongoing project taking up all his time, one more burden was something Menthayel could not afford to take on. More than that, he had enemies that even a creature like his son would have reason to fear. He could not raise the child, and he could not protect it. But Emily had forced him into a promise. Dear, sweet Emily. Even in death, he could not refuse her.

The only option was to block the child�s powers and hope he could exist without them.

Alecksariel�s eyes narrowed dangerously as he sensed his father gathering his powers. Without Emily�s safety to consider, Menthayel tore through the boy�s natural defences and penetrated his mind, laying down barriers as strong as he could create. The child understood at once what was taking place, and much faster than any human telepath could have responded, fought back. To no avail. Caught by surprise, the battle of wills was short and terribly one-sided. Unable to defend his already-breached mind, the baby screamed once, and then was silent. His eyes immediately glazed with the dazed, confused expression of a human infant. He began to wail, and Menthayel, breathing heavily, relaxed for the first time that night.

Only a few steps away, Emily�s mother took her grandson as her daughter, Lindsey, wept.

�Alec Samuel,� she said softly, rocking the baby in her arms. �That�s what your mother chose for you, and that�s who you shall be. Alec Samuel Roth.�

Safe again within the sanctuary in the Void, Nischa, called The Grey Lady, watched with tears in her eyes. Her mission had been a horrifying failure. She�d known when she had followed Uhl Laeyn into the cycle of human incarnation that she would lose her identity and her memories, but she could never have expected for it to end this way. Rather than guide a God from his folly, she had made his mistake and become immersed in human life. Not only had she totally lost her sense of purpose, she had fallen in love with a being she loathed.� Then, the unthinkable� she had borne his child.

Staring at his profile from her distant vantage point, she found herself unable to hate him as she once had. As Menthayel kissed his � their � son�s forehead, the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. She loved him still. The memories of the all too mortal life she�d just lived were burned too strongly in her mind for her to feel anything but love for the Seraph. And with that love, came the bitterness that the joy she�d felt as Emily Roth would never � could never - be duplicated. She could relive a thousand more mortal lives and she wouldn�t even come close. Even now, secure within her own domain and with full access to the might and memories that were hers and hers alone, she ached to feel the Seraph�s strong arms wrapped tightly around her�

�Alecksariel,� she whispered, stretching her arm to touch the image that floated before her. Her son. Though she did not know Menthayel was thinking the same thing, she agreed that this child should not exist. Had she been a normal human female, he would not have been conceived in the first place. Her personality may have been suppressed, but some measure of her powers must have seeped through for a human egg to accept angelic seed. But knowing the child should not exist did little to change what had already been done. Her last request as �Emily� had been to force Menthayel to care for their newborn, and if the Seraph shared even a fraction of the love she had held for him, then it would be a task from which he would not waver. She watched her sister - Emily�s sister she corrected herself quickly - cradling the newborn and felt the dagger in her heart twist again. She could not help it. The love Emily had carried for the child that had taken her mortal life made no sense to Nischa�s immortal mind, but that strange boundless love had somehow transcended death and was now deeply rooted in her psyche. She couldn�t erase it even if she wanted too. And frowning, the Grey Lady found she didn�t want to erase that love, or even try. Her attention shifted to the mother and the sister of her human incarnation and found very little. Emily had loved them both dearly, and Nischa could still feel the echoes of that love, but it was not the same. If anything happened to either, she would probably feel some vague sense of� regret, maybe even a sadness of sorts, but it would be fleeting. It would not even cause her much grief to strike them both down herself.

He was hers. Born of the body she had inhabited, and loved limitlessly by the soul within that body. With a humourless smile, Nischa recognised the odd maternal change deep within herself, and quite rightly feared it. She could not deny her love for the child, and so she was bound - by it - to him. Bound by a mother�s love. Shackles no amount of divine force could ever hope to break. Not even the mighty Uhl Laeyn could change that. He, the Chaotic One, could still destroy her, of course, but she would carry that love with her right up to the point she stopped existing�

Suddenly, the echoes of a scream reverberated through the Void and her window into Earth�s plane vanished. Somewhere in the city of Turnam, a car slammed into a guard rail and exploded, killing its teenaged occupants instantly. The two eighteen year old girls Nischa cared nothing about, but the death of the young man was more than enough to force her away from the vision of her son. A plume of blinding light erupted into the night sky and faded as Nischa�s feet touched solid ground nearby. The light resolved itself into the form of the human teenager who had been behind the wheel.

The young man turned to face her, still wearing the appearance of the youth already half cremated in the burning vehicle nearby, his expression one of profound sadness.

�Cast off your human guise!� demanded Nischa angrily. �Return to your rightful place!�

�Never!� shouted the apparition furiously, shimmering once more and shooting off into the darkness.

Nischa�s image blurred as she gave chase, desperate to catch the God before he could find what he needed. In an instant, Uhl Laeyn had found his target � a human foetus within the womb of a young woman. Thrusting aside the waiting soul about to take possession, he entered the newly-formed body and took his place within. Nischa glared angrily as knowledge and identity faded and the god was once again enveloped in slumber.

The Lord of Chaos had re-entered humanity. She shook her head furiously. �So be it.�

Jenni splashed ice-cold water over her face and studied her reflection in the mirror. It was amazing what a few short weeks could do, she mused. At a glance, she looked much the same as she had when she�d first shown up here, but she knew herself well enough to notice the differences. Her eyes held a more calculating gleam, the set of her lips arrogantly tighter, and her jaw even stubborner. She�d learnt a lot from Logan. How many different ways to hurt someone was the most obvious - she�d been on the receiving end of that for an insufferably long time - but there was also a newfound confidence embedded in her features. She�d always been cocky, but now she had the means to back up that attitude. The last couple of weeks had been a royal arse kicking, both mentally and physically, but she was far tougher for it. Butch, almost. She was more methodical now and better able to deal with her temper. Despite his best efforts, Logan hadn�t managed to totally beat out her feral streak, but he�d done enough to keep it in check. Her tutor had an annoying tendency of goading her into losing it, and then severely punishing her for her loss of control. The angrier she got, the more he beat her down. It was a brutal �kill or cure� regime, but it had worked. She was faster, stronger, and easily fitter than she�d ever been, and she could almost hold her own against him now. Almost. Logan was still a master at his chosen craft.

Pulling her long dark hair back away from her eyes, she secured it in a high ponytail and dried her hands and then her face. Fishing out the half empty pack of Griffins Eliza had given her the day before, she selected a cigarette and moved over to the window. It was one of those old fashioned things where the pane swung outwards, and with a little fumbling, she got it open and leaned her elbows on the sill. The sun was just beginning to show its face outside and she was treated to a rather beautiful view of it casting orange and purple streaks over the hills in the distance. The mornings had slowly become her favourite time of the day. It was so quiet out here. No cars, no radios, no frigging foreigners shouting at each other, in short, exactly the opposite of Sydney. Over the last couple of days, she had taken to going to bed straight after dinner and setting the alarm on the cell phone Eliza had given her for four-thirty so she could be awake in time to watch the sun come up. She couldn�t deny the simple fact that the odd serenity of this place was starting to get to her. It was so quiet, so peaceful�

With a loud sigh, she stuck the cigarette in her mouth and lit it, drawing the smoke deep into her lungs. Today was her last day here, and she felt a surprising sense of sadness. �Boot� certainly hadn�t been fun, but she knew she was going to miss it. The early mornings, the crisp cold country air, being used as a pi�ata� on second thought, she wouldn�t miss that, but she�d certainly miss being here. Logan was definitely a class act, and if Alec wasn�t so high on her list of priorities, she was sure she might have fallen for him. Her tutor, while an utter bastard with a wooden dildo, was gorgeous, witty � though generally at her expense - and� and he was gorgeous. She found herself grinning. God, he was gorgeous. Not that anything would ever come from it, but she couldn�t help herself. The man was just that good looking. Her grin widened as a wicked glint appeared in her eyes.

Alec wished he were still asleep. At least his conscience let him be. He wished for darkness and the peace of a dreamless sleep. It was his angelic nature that sustained his mind and body, only requiring � or allowing � a few hours sleep each night. It was his angelic nature that had allowed him to violate Lisa�s mind the day before, his angelic nature that, presumably, had attracted the deranged bitch, Blaise, to him. It had also brought him to the Order�s attention, and subsequently led to Raphael�s betrayal of his trust.

Was it also the driving force behind his rape of Elaine? An image of her tear-stained face flashed in his head and he blocked it angrily, feeling sick. He had gone to bed the night before feeling an elated triumph. Waking with the sun, he had vacillated between guilt and defiance, disgust and anger, wondering how he could have sunk so low, then furiously telling himself that he had nobody but himself to answer to. Elaine hadn�t deserved what he�d done to her, true, but had he deserved what others had done to him? There was no right and wrong. Not in any absolute sense, anyway. Just Power. And what good would Power be if it wasn�t used? Damn it! �Chantelle� had warned him not to do anything he could not live with. If only he�d fucking listened to her!

He had set out to give his sense of morality � what he saw as his single biggest weakness in a world that didn�t give a shit � a good kick in the teeth, and he�d succeeded beyond his craziest hopes. The �old� him would never have been able to do it, but it had been done anyway. That one act meant he could never go back. The �old� him was dead. The �happy� him, who went to parties, got drunk with mates, and laughed at teen trivia was dead. How could he ever be �happy� again after what he�d done? Throughout puberty, all he�d wanted was to be normal. �Average in every conceivable way� would have suited him just fine. But he�d always been below that. The guttersnipe everyone took a crap on. At least until his �change�. Then, for a blissful couple of months, he�d become all he wanted to be. Just another someone, without really being anyone in particular. But while he�d moved up the mundane food chain, he�d suddenly found himself in a whole new environment filled with things that completely defied the generally accepted concept of normal. And again, he�d started out on the bottom rung.

He had tried to duplicate the methods and rationality of the Order, hoping their ability to distance themselves from subjective morality would work with him.

Thinking he could deal with the consequences as they had, Alec had deliberately tried to do something he had been violently opposed to, simply because he had felt he needed to know he could do it. Needed to know he could inflict pain, even terror, when he wanted to. No, �want� wasn�t the right word. �Want� insinuated pleasure. Sure he�d gotten off over what he�d done, but that was to be expected. He had been, after all, balls-deep in a pretty chick, and rape issues aside, getting off was more or less a forgone conclusion. No, he didn�t especially �want� to hurt people, but he needed to know he could. If he could hurt someone he actually liked, then hurting someone he cared nothing about � or in Blaise De Angelo�s case, someone he actively hated � would be piss-easy. He�d already gotten a taste of what Blaise was capable of, and the only chance he had to beat her was to play dirty. Fuck chivalry, if they locked horns again, he had wanted to strike out without hesitation, and definitely without compassion. He knew he couldn�t afford to let the fact that she was a girl make any difference. Blaise would certainly use her femininity as a weapon. He had to be able to hurt her in spite of it. She had already used her sex as part of the snare, and he had to work himself into a position where he�d be able to hurt her for it. The trap she�d tried to spring wouldn�t have been nearly as successful if he hadn�t wanted to bone her like it was the most important thing in the world.

And if he could willingly hurt Elaine, someone who�d been nothing but nice to him, hurting someone who�d tried to fuck him over would be child�s play.

�Only but myself to answer to,� Alec grated defiantly, knowing, even as he mouthed the words, that it was a pathetic defence. His conscience was a part of himself, but right now it was taking orders from nobody. Himself, least of all. All he had succeeded in doing was sinking even further down the ladder to an all new low.

�How could you?� he demanded furiously of his image in the mirror for the hundredth time that morning. Tears obscured his vision suddenly, and he wiped them away angrily.

�Fucking pussy!� he hissed at his reflection before sitting back down on the bed. Maybe the world owed him one, but Elaine Jensen sure as hell didn�t. All she�d ever done was be nice to him, and he�d manipulated her from the start. Teasing her was one thing, a memory to be privately smiled at and easily � if a little deviously � savoured. Full-fledged rape was another thing entirely. She couldn�t possibly deserve what he�d done to her.

Why had he done it? The question haunted him as remorselessly as his guilt. His mental rant was hardly an excuse, much less a reason. How could he look her in the eye after this? How could he show his face anywhere? He seemed sure that Lindsey and Steve would know instinctively of his crime, that Allen and Marc would withdraw their friendship the moment they saw the stain of his guilt. Even Chantelle, his beautiful tutor and confidante, seemed a million miles away right now. She had warned him, after all, that no one could punish him half as much as he could punish himself, and he had ignored her warning. There was only one person he could think of that might offer him comfort. His father, surely, would understand.

Screwing up his face and concentrating, Alec pictured his father and sent a mental burst with as much force as he could muster.

It seemed that the message expanded outside his mind and reverberated through space. His answer arrived before the last echoes had faded.

�Dad, I� I�ve done something really awful,� Alec breathed. Once he started to speak, it was like he couldn�t stop, and he laid it out, the whole story, omitting nothing. The kinship he felt for the Order, and his fear that they were going too far. Raphael�s attack on his mind, his own triumph at learning the trick of opening minds, and his shameful attempt at Lisa. When he reached Blaise, Menthayel stiffened, but remained silent. Finally, he came to Elaine, the way he�d hit her, taken her against her will. The elated, primal rush that came with dominating her, and then, finally, his current bout of remorse.

Hanging his head afterward and staring at the floor, he realised that he�d also mentioned Nischa. The barriers he�d placed over her name had come down as he�d poured his guts out, and he�d been too busy feeling sorry for himself to notice. So, he thought, closing his eyes against a new wave of tears. I�ve betrayed her, too. He felt his father�s hand on his shoulder. He forced himself to look up, and to his surprise saw no recrimination or even shock in the Seraph�s expression.

�Don�t worry about Nischa,� Menthayel said with the trace of a sad smile. �She can take care of herself.�

�Yes. I don�t pretend to understand her motives, but you could have chosen far worse for a teacher.�

Alec laughed in spite of himself. �No, it�s not like that. She�s more of a big sister. I� love her, but not that way.�

�A big sister,� said Menthayel, nodding, not quite in wholehearted approval, but more resigned acceptance. �She seems to have taken a liking to you. It�s not a bad thing to have someone as powerful as she on your side.�

�She is,� began Menthayel, and paused for a moment, considering. �There is no word for what she is. You could call her a Goddess and not be too far from the mark. She was one of the first.�

�I�m not the most powerful being in the universe, Alec,� Menthayel said dryly. �She was created before the first of the Seraphim, so yes, she is more powerful.�

Menthayel hesitated. �There are some things that I would rather not explain, but suffice it to say that the universe and all the creatures in it didn�t just appear by themselves. They were created.�

�Not in the Christian sense, no,� the Seraph snorted disdainfully. �Nobody has gotten it right so far.�

�Oh, evolution is the closest guess yet. Life on Earth did evolve after a fashion, but the process was started, perhaps intentionally.�

�We could spend a lifetime,� Menthayel interrupted quickly, �discussing this, but it won�t make any difference to you in the great scheme of things. All you need to know is that the Creator expects nothing of his children, and does not intend to hold you responsible for your actions. It wouldn�t be completely accurate, but it wouldn�t be wrong either to say the Creator doesn�t especially care what you do.�

�So Nischa was right. The only one I�ll ever have to answer to is myself.�

�I can�t help you with your guilt, Aleck. The only way you can relieve it is by not perceiving your actions as wrong.�

�I can�t do that.� It was true. His conscience would not be swayed by any sort of logic. It had already decided that what he�d done was wrong, and it wouldn�t budge or let him forget it either.

�Then the other option is to stop Elaine from seeing it as wrong, or to make her forget it entirely.�

�Yes. The act itself is over all too soon. Most of the suffering comes with the memory. If she cannot relive the moment in her mind, it will be as though it never happened. Her bruises will heal in a day or two. Her memories, on the other hand, will continue to haunt her long after the physical evidence has faded. Remove her memories and you remove her pain.�

Menthayel nodded, and clasped his son�s shoulder. He was turning to leave when Alec called his name.

�I didn�t, uh� shit.� Alec shook his head and almost grinned. �I didn�t wear any, you know� protection. She won�t��

�Get pregnant?� Menthayel smiled, a little sadly. �No, Aleck, that�s one burden you�ll never have to bear. It is uncommon in the extreme for an angel � especially a Seraph � to have children. For the Nephelim, it has always been impossible.�

�Try not to worry about it too much. On the bright side, you�ll never have to bother with protection, even from the most insidious human diseases.�

Alec nodded, and his father disappeared from sight with a half-smile and a final wave. He blinked, suddenly realising that he hadn�t asked what to do about Blaise. He considered going through Maleficia once more, but decided against it. He�d handle one problem at a time.

Logan van Ryan ran a practised eye over the thin slip of a girl facing him as she moved forward slowly, a long, gleaming dagger in each hand. Despite the early morning chill, she had come out clad in nothing more substantial than a pair of old sweatpants and a snug, white, cotton singlet. Clothing chosen not for climate, or fashion, but for mobility. Without speaking, he watched her go through a couple of warm-up stretches. Her thin arms were already showing definition, and, while he couldn�t see it, he knew her stomach would reflect the effects of the endless crunches he�d forced her into doing. For the umpteenth time since he�d taken her under his wing, he found himself looking at her with less propriety than he should be. Strictly speaking, Jenni didn�t go out of her way to advertise her charms, but she was certainly someone he�d have happily followed around like a whipped puppy had he been ten years younger. Shaking his head irritably and trying to distract himself, he spared a moment to admire the craftsmanship of her new toys. Those daggers weren�t flashy; they were practical and razor sharp. Having trained her himself, he knew Jenni was perfectly capable of hurting someone if she felt so inclined. True, the girl hadn�t been able to get under his guard so far, but this was the first time they were sparring without practice weapons and he felt more than justified to approach the spar with extra caution. He had intended to keep his Escrima stick padded, but Jenni was having none of that. �I�m not going to pull any punches,� she�d bluntly told him over dinner the night before, �so just to keep things fair, neither will you.� At first he�d thought she was just being her usual smartass self, but the glare that had accompanied those words told him she�d fully meant what she was saying.

�Sweetie,� Jenni�s smile was pure evil as she slipped gracefully into the left-handed engarde stance she preferred, �bring it!�

Taking that as the signal to start, Logan surged forward, his stick flashing as he swung it in a high horizontal arc. It was a feint, but Jenni had seen this one before and she wasn�t where he expected her to be when he abruptly halted all forward movement and threw a left cross into the space her head was supposed to occupy. When she moved to counter his initial strike and his fist met with nothing but empty air. Nodding appreciatively, he began to probe her defences with light swats and seemingly random strikes with feet, elbows and fists, his mind carefully cataloguing her reaction times and looking for potential weak spots he could later exploit. Contrary to her usual �strike first, contemplate later� fighting style, Jenni might well have been a completely new opponent. She met each new attack with confidence and eerie fluidity, never trying to block a blow when she could melt out of the way instead, never expending more than a single iota of unnecessary force. Gone was the girl too proud not to try going blow for blow with someone clearly stronger than herself. The brawler in Jenni was gone, replaced by someone calmer and much more focused.

It took Logan another minute�s worth of �feeling out� to find a potential opening. Jenni�s guard was close to flawless from the waist up, but she didn�t seem to be anticipating a strike below that. Not terribly surprising, he reasoned, as most people didn�t consider trying to take someone�s legs out from under them as a viable tactic. Jenni certainly never had. In their previous spars, she�d shown very little indication to cripple an opponent, preferring to target her strikes at the head or torso where a single well aimed blow could end the fight. Suppressing a pleased look, Logan surged forward again, twisting his body sideways as he entered striking distance, the Escrima stick lashing out high at first, then suddenly shifting its trajectory and going low as he twisted to the right and dropped to one knee, the tip of his weapon seeking Jenni�s ankles. With a loud clang, the hardwood baton met the flat of the dagger Jenni drove into the ground a bare inch from her left leg. Not only had she seen the trap coming, she�d employed a rather unusual method to counter it, dropping to a crouch and digging the point of her left dagger into the soil without releasing her hold on it to create, in effect, a vertical bar of steel between Logan�s weapon and his intended target. He barely had time to roll out of the way as the second dagger came into play, its point viciously stabbing out, seeking his face.

Blinking back his surprise, Logan stared at his student with a newfound appreciation. The girl had not only met his attack, but her counter had come close to damaging more than just his pride. She�d deliberately left him with a false opening, setting him up for a rather nasty poke in the face. And she�d damn near pulled it off, too! Without looking at him, Jenni drew her dagger out of the earth and straightened slowly. Only after she�d wiped the dirt off her blade did she deign to look at him, petulantly, as if she felt his refusal to just let her poke him in the face was a serious breach of etiquette. Exhaling slowly, Logan tightened his grip on the baton, and fell back to careful probing attacks. Over the next minute, he saw several more opportunities to strike a deciding blow, but passed them by. The Jenni he was facing today was not the Jenni he had faced yesterday. She had already proved she could be a sneaky little bitch and Logan wasn�t going to take the chance that she was still deliberately setting him up. No, he was going to play the safer game. He�d hold back, and annoy her until she got fed up and went ballistic. Her temper had always been her weakest point, so he�d simply settle in for a long duel and draw her out.

Continuing with his probing attacks, Logan carefully scrutinised her every action, every little nuance on her usually all too expressive face. He might as well have been staring at a marble statue. There was nothing in Jenni�s visage to provide the slightest hint of her mental state, but her movements were noticeably slower as she flowed gracefully from one parry to the next. There were mild hints of the speed he knew she was capable of, and he could tell she was still holding back, only moving as fast as she wanted him to believe she could. It would have worked with an unfamiliar opponent, but Logan was still pleased with her attempt at cunning. The question was just how cunning was she actually being? Jenni had to know he was familiar enough with her abilities not to fall for something as obvious as that, but was she just setting up a trap within a trap? There was one way to find out. Logan stepped up his attacks, launching vicious swipes from different points and shifting his body to evade the occasional foot or dagger counter that came at him, as he tried to guess what Jenni was intending to do next. When he saw her shift her weight ever so slightly onto her back foot, he saw his opening. Sliding his feet apart, Logan hunkered down, and charged forward as if to bull his way over her. Instead of retreating or trying to get out of the way, Jenni stood her ground and at the last moment shifted her weight even further back, pulling her right knee up and kicking straight out. Her foot whizzed harmlessly over Logan�s head as he dropped to one knee again, but instead of trying to repeat his earlier ankle strike to catch her off balance, he flowed up from the compact crouch with the open palm of his left hand drawn back. His target this time had not been her legs. Relying on the powerful thrust from his thigh muscles to provide additional momentum, Logan put all his weight into a percussive palm strike more than capable of shattering bone and driving her ribs into her lungs. He had expected to hit her square between her breasts but Jenni arched backwards, twisting her upper body almost unnaturally just before his palm made contact. Logan followed the strike through unthinkingly, using his momentum to carry him past her, even as his palm slipped by its intended target. As their shoulders drew level, he shifted his weight onto the back foot to check his lunge and pivoted abruptly, the Escrima stick whirling in a short arc aimed at catching her on the back of her head if she failed to turn in time, or full in the face if she did. The hardwood weapon moved with such speed that it created a clearly audible whoosh as it cut through the air, but Jenni refused to be cooperative and elected not to leave her head where he�d anticipated it to be.

Turning to face his student, Logan saluted her with a slight nod that Jenni received impassively. He had expected to see a look of triumph on her face as she rarely bothered to hide it when she was pleased about avoiding a hit, but Jenni�s expression was bland, her face revealing nothing at all. Logan absently cracked the knuckles on his left hand, oddly relieved he hadn�t brained her and more than a little pleased with the progression his student had made. Explaining her demise to his employer wasn�t something he was looking forward to, and truth be told, he genuinely liked the mulishly stubborn little girl. But at the same time, it irked him that she hadn�t bought the feint and managed to avoid both strikes, each more than capable of taking her out.

He had to admit, not without a little pride, that her own abilities notwithstanding, he�d taught her well. A slight smile in place, Logan settled in for what promised to be an interesting workout. No matter, he thought, there were still a couple of trump cards left in his deck to play�

Jenni sucked it a deep breath and reversed the dagger in her left hand to the stabbing position a scant second before Logan rushed back into the fray confidently. She didn�t need to be told that the foreplay was over. Logan�s Escrima stick was a blur seeking out her shoulders and arms with almost single-minded determination, and without padding, these were clearly crippling blows if they landed. He was forcing her to block high and low almost simultaneously and she understood the danger that put her in. She might have had two daggers against his whacking stick, but he attacked with more than just that stick and aside from the occasional counter, he was dictating pace of the match by keeping her on the defensive. She�d held her own so far, but her muscles were already starting to feel the strain and in a protracted fight Logan would eventually beat her. Jenni�s dark eyes narrowed with newfound focus, she had to take the initiative and force him to fight on her terms. It was the only chance she had of winning this fight and she�d never forgive herself if she couldn�t beat him at least once. A week ago it might have seemed like an unrealistic goal, but a week ago she didn�t have her beautiful daggers� and with them in hand, anything seemed possible.

Circling, she carefully avoided the next swipe and tried a sneaky left backhand to mask her actual strike, the pommel of the dagger in her right hand coming in from the opposite direction. Logan ducked under the first swipe, caught the second with a left forearm block and threw a seemingly weak counterpunch with the same arm before sliding back, then changing forward again to come in on her left side, turning as if to bring his Escrima stick to bear. Too late Jenni identified that particular sequence and her head snapped to the left as Logan�s hook smashed into the side of her head, the blow hard enough to spin her around and knock her completely off her feet. Her vision blurry, she barely saw his foot rushing up towards her face but instinct and desperation just managed to get her out of the way of what came very close to being a coupe de grace. Her legs felt rubbery and she was seeing stars, but she still managed to get back to her feet quickly.

�Un-fucking-likely!� she spat, blinking to clear the little white spots in her vision.

Logan nodded once and took a step back to give her time to recover, but Jenni was having none of that. Daggers extended, she leapt at him using everything he�d beaten into her over the last couple of weeks. She lashed out furiously with all the strength and speed she had left, trying to do no less than skewer him on the pointy ends of her blades. Her daggers jabbed and slashed, came in from high and low, employing feints and counters at seemingly impossible speeds as she furiously fought to bring this match to the only end acceptable to her. Complete and utter victory. In a sudden change of tactics, she began targeting the Escrima stick itself, pitting steel against hardwood. To Logan it was obvious was she was trying to do, but there was little he could do about it. She made sure the choice was a parry against razor-sharp steel with the only alternative being spilt blood. But hacking Logan�s weapon into kindling was only half of the plan. On the offensive now, Jenni attacked like a feral wildcat, hacking chips off the Escrima stick as often as she tried to genuinely gut her tutor. Logan gradually began to give ground against the furious onslaught, his Escrima stick dancing madly to keep the weaving daggers at bay as they tried to snake past his defence and find some vital organ they could bleed.

Tutor and student froze. Neither took their eyes off the other, but from their startled looks, it was clear to each that the other was just as surprised to find the blonde girl that had brought them together had suddenly shown up again. Jenni nodded slightly and dropped her guard, just a little. Logan, in turn took a couple of steps back. The temporary truce silently agreed upon, they both turned to find Eliza leaning against the �Jack� tree that had become Jenni�s smoke break spot.

�Cheat?� Logan prompted, not bothering to ask what she was doing here, or even how she�d gotten here. It was so quiet in the mornings that they would have heard the sound of an approaching vehicle long before they saw it.

�You�re a Sersius Hunter.� Eliza told him flatly. �Today is Jenni�s last day here. It is, in effect, Graduation Day. Imagine she�s a Lycan� or a Sigurdian, and treat her accordingly.�

�A Sigurdian?� Logan�s tone was guarded, �odd choice for an enemy. Was there a particular reason you mentioned them?�

Jenni frowned. �Lycan� was probably the shortened form of lycanthrope. A werewolf, in plain English. It was one of the creatures described by that book she�d received when Eliza had given her the daggers, though the word �Lupine� had been used instead. From what little she could remember, they were essentially people who could project some sort of etheric thingy over their bodies to take the form of a human / wolf hybrid. If Eliza�s big book of weird shit was to be believed, then the etheric shell could be solidified, augmenting the physical body, and creating, in effect, the mythological werewolf. But surely that was a load of crap! �Sersius Hunters� weren�t mentioned in the book, so Jenni had no idea what they might be, but �Sigurdian� was a term she knew only too well. That was what Alec had called the shadows in her dreams. And Logan�s query confirmed that those shadows existed in more than just her dreams.

�Of course!� Eliza answered, her tone of voice making it clear she thought the answer was plainly obvious. �Hunters and Watchers have never seen eye to eye, and after the Seraph Menthayel tore your patron�s head off his shoulders, I�d imagine relations have become somewhat� strained. There shouldn�t be much love lost between your Orders.�

�That�s one way of putting it,� Logan said without smiling. �Those that survived that bloodbath swore an oath.�

�Pah-lease,� Eliza waved him away offhandedly. �It wouldn�t have taken much on Menthayel�s part to wipe out your entire Order had he felt the inclination. He chose to keep you alive. Save your oaths for someone who might actually give a damn.�

Logan snorted, his posture now clearly hostile. �Assuming I believe you, which, by the way, I don�t, to what end did he choose to keep us alive?�

�This isn�t the time to explore my speculations, but I imagine he saw a need for your Hunters. His beef seems to have been directed at Sersius himself. Seraphim are like that, and I wouldn�t suggest trying to understand them. They don�t think the way humans do. Just be grateful you�re still here, Seraphim like Menthayel tend to follow a �Scorched Earth� policy when they�re pissed off. I imagine it must have required a considerable amount of willpower on Menthayel�s part not to hunt down every single one of you. Trust me, if he�d really wanted to, there�s almost nothing you, your Hunters, and every Sersius Master this side of the equator could have done to stop him. None of you could outsmart him, and even collectively, you couldn�t muster the strength to oppose him. If not for a conscious decision on his part, we wouldn�t be having this chat.�

�I want the full story,� Logan told Eliza, his tone making it clear it wasn�t a request.

�Yeah, later.� Eliza brushed his demand aside, �Now, before you get the wrong idea, Jenni won�t be associated with either Order, but you�re about the best Hunter I could find on short notice. I want her to get a first-hand taste of what she can expect to meet out there.�

�You want me to clue her in on how to fight a Hunter?� Logan exclaimed incredulously. �Do you have the slightest clue what you�re asking me to do? You�re fucking crazy! The last thing I�m about to do is teach anyone whose motives remain a proverbial fucking mystery how to fight a Hunter. You couldn�t possibly pay me enough to screw over my people to say nothing of screwing over myself!�

Eliza shot him an arrogant, but chilling smile. It was the smile of someone who knew, beyond a doubt, that her battle had already been won. �There�s precious little I can�t do,� she told him menacingly, before her expression softened, ever so slightly. �But that�s hardly the point. No, I don�t anticipate my prot�g� here having to fight a Hunter, but I like to keep my options open. The point of the lesson, however, is to get her used to dealing with an opponent that has an edge she doesn�t. She has to learn to fight outside her preconceived notions. To that end, I want you to use everything you�ve got. Full shielding, kinetic predictability, hell, use kinetic extension attacks if the openings present themselves. Every dirty trick in the book. Don�t hold anything back.�

�Like fuck you will!� Jenni spat angrily. She had absolutely no clue what all this kinetic nonsense was, but she really didn�t give a damn anyway. Logan could have an SAS platoon armed to the teeth at his back; it wouldn�t matter. This was her last day, and the last chance she had to kick his ass. And that was a promise she had no intention of breaking. As far as she was concerned, it was already a foregone conclusion. All that remained was the means to accomplish it, and the number of unbroken bones she�d have left by then�

Eliza smiled and inclined her head in Jenni�s direction. �I couldn�t have put it more aptly,� she told Logan. �Don�t worry about her welfare, though. You�ll get paid regardless of the outcome of this fight, but make damn sure you don�t pull any punches. If Jenni�s going to learn anything from this, I want her to learn it the hard way.�

Logan shrugged. �Sorry about this, kiddo, but its probably going to hurt. A lot. For what its worth, you�re pretty damn good and either way I�m proud to have-�

�Cut the sentimental shit.� Jenni interrupted curtly. �I�m on the clock here and there isn�t time to hear your sop speech and kick your ass. And I fully intend to kick your ass.�

Jenni had no idea what it was, but there seemed like an actual, albeit invisible, physical barrier surrounding her tutor. A solid shell her daggers bounced off the few times she�d gotten them close enough to maybe deal some damage. Was this what Eliza meant by cheating? Logan was moving around a fair bit, so whatever this thing was, it seemed to be something he was wearing rather than just an obstacle between them. She didn�t have a clue what it was, or how he was doing it, and she didn�t especially care either. All she wanted to know was how to get around or through it. In any case, that barrier was irritating the frigging shit out of her. She was fighting the best fight of her life and it still wasn�t paying dividends.

And if not being able to get a dagger within striking distance wasn�t bad enough, Logan seemed to know exactly what she was going to do a fraction of a second before she did it. That fraction of a second was more than long enough to neutralise the slight speed advantage she had over him and her counters were progressively getting harder and harder to pull off. How the hell did he know exactly what she was planning to do? Was he reading her mind or� or kinetic predictability? She couldn�t remember if Logan or Eliza had mentioned it, but she knew one of them had. Logan came at her again and she barely avoided getting her face bashed in before he pulled away. What the hell was kinetic predictability? The �predictability� part was obvious, but how did the kinetic bit fit in? From what little she could remember from physics, kinetics had something to do with energy and movement. She ignored the �energy� and focused on the movement. So he was predicting her movements? That fitted. But what the hell was she going to do about it?

She met Logan�s next series of attacks, again only just managing to make it through unscathed. She had to find a way to stop his second-guessing her, and then she had to work out a way to get past that weird phantom-ish armour he seemed to be clad in. And she had to figure out a way to do it pretty damn quickly, because they had been at it for nearly twenty minutes now and the intense physical exertion of the spar was starting to take its toll. Logan surged forward again and she barely got her arm up to block his backhand. Before she could pull back, Logan pivoted sharply, and followed through with the Escrima stick. The blow caught her about an inch above the elbow of her blocking arm and she was unable to bite back a scream of pain. Without really thinking, she stabbed out with the left dagger, hoping to force him out of range and give herself time to recover, but her all too apparent fatigue cost her dearly. Logan grabbed hold of her wrist before it could get out of reach, then reared back and slammed the sole of his foot into the side of her head, yanking on her arm in the same instant to increase the force of it. The kick hadn�t been pulled and Jenni�s head snapped to the side. Her knees buckled and she was acutely aware of the grass rushing up to meet her and her total inability to check gravity.

She �felt� herself hit the ground, but her brain didn�t register any pain, just the ringing in her ears and the spreading numbness on the left side of her face.

It took her a couple of precious seconds just to work out where she was, and a couple more to shake off enough of her dizziness to realise what had just happened. Fortunately for her, Logan had come to the conclusion that the spar was over and conveniently backed off. She rolled over onto her back and stared straight up at the impossibly blue sky, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. The ringing in her ears was starting to subside, but the dizziness had not and she really didn�t want to get up. It was so much nicer � to say nothing of easier - to stare at the sky from the comfort of the soft cool grass� but�

From the sidelines, �Eliza� watched Jenni slowly get back to her feet. The little brunette had yet to fully shake off the lingering effects from that kick in the head, but Eliza was pleased with the girl�s resilience. Illogical defiance was almost a necessity for Dashaelle. The odds would always be stacked against her and anyone with an ounce less fortitude simply wouldn�t make the grade. Eliza smiled to herself. Jenni had just proven she had the will; all that was left was to give her the tools. The Batardeau were exceptionally well-crafted weapons, purpose-built for actual combat as opposed to merely being showpieces, and Jenni was skilled enough to be an absolute nightmare in a fight, but that wasn�t nearly enough. As Logan had just proved, exceptional blade-work meant nothing against opponents capable of shielding themselves against it. That Jenni would lose had been a foregone conclusion the second Logan employed the gifts that made him one of the best Sersius Hunters alive. Most Hunters simply fixed the dense etheric shield before them in much the same way Riot Police used a riot shield, and usually that was enough. By the time a novice finally became a Hunter, they could form a shield durable enough to function more or less as a bullet barrier, which was enough as Hunters generally fought with firearms away. Mobility wasn�t usually an issue when one would usually dispatch an opponent at a distance. But Logan and a select few Hunters had reached a stage where they could craft their shields into something akin to a mobile suit that moved in perfect harmony with them. Add the early warning element of kinetic predictability to the mix, and as far as hand-to-hand combat went, a well trained Sersius Hunter was an opponent even an accomplished Sigurdian Shadowraith hesitated to face.

But as formidable as a Sersius Hunter was, a kinetic shell could be pierced by any one of a number of ultra-high velocity rifles, or by a handheld weapon, if one was strong enough to physically drive steel through it. Dropping a building on them would also do the trick. The heavy rifle was obviously out of the question, the building bomb left too much to chance and circumstance, and Jenni was never going to be strong enough to stab through a shield, so all were moot points. But there were other ways to break the bonds that held etheric matter together. The Batardeau had undergone some significant reworking after Eliza had gotten her hands on them. Visually, they looked no different than they had before, but now they were unique. Each had been carefully bound with the essence of a slain Cherub, so they were actually �alive� � or at least sentient - after a fashion. More importantly, the infusion of an etheric deity let the daggers carry much the same properties as a weapon created purely of etheric matter. Ether always cancelled out ether, and the tempered steel beneath was more than a match for flesh and bone. The advantage of having the immortal soul of a lesser angel in each weapon meant they would never �run flat,� and would be almost indestructible.

The souls themselves had not been too hard to acquire, as the infighting in the wake of Uhl Laeyn�s self-imposed exile had left no shortage of deities about as dead as an immortal got; the hard part had been working the essence of the fallen angels into metal forged by human hands. She�d had to devote a considerable amount of time and effort to that particular endeavour, but it wasn�t something she hadn�t done before. She had bound Dashaelle to her service in other lives, and she had made weapons for the Guardian before.

Thin tendrils of energy snaked through the distance that separated them, and one by one, the wards she had placed upon the weapons were dropped. The daggers flared brightly as the Cherubim within were awoken, but the effect was lost on anyone not able to perceive the immortals in their natural state. Jenni and Logan saw nothing out of the ordinary. To Nischa, the effect was quite beautiful. As the glow of the daggers faded, the two lesser immortals stood much as they had in life, one to each side of Jenni. Tall and sleekly muscled, the Cherubim lacked the brute majesty of a Seraph, but their slender forms were deceptive. Had they actually been �alive� each could have effortlessly torn Logan apart with its bare hands. Like the Seraphim in their natural form, the Cherubim lacked any definitive sexuality. Unlike the Seraphim, their features were bland, only vaguely human and completely lacking any trace of facial hair that might lend a clue to gender. Their flat, sculptured torsos made them appear to be male, but that was only because breasts served no function for beings that would never need to feed infants.

Even for her, Cherubim were next to impossible to differentiate by appearance alone, but in the process of acquiring their souls Nischa had learned their identities. They had both been relatively low-level servants who had perished when the carrying out of Uhl Laeyn�s final instructions had clashed with the wants of the newly independent Seraphim. The one to the left had been called Hev�rim, and the other had been Ta�roa. As one, the Cherubim ignored the two humans and focused their attention solely on her.

<�We are slain�> Hev�rem�s disembodied voice stated with a sense of calm detachment.

<�The dead have no place here.> Ta�roa added. <Uhl Laeyn is gone. Without the Master, there can be nothing for us. We cannot serve, and thus we have no purpose.>

Nischa snorted contemptuously. Lesser immortals like the Cherubim were created for servitude, and as such, she didn�t consider them all too bright. They were strong, and they had memories that stretched back aeons, but they possessed very little cunning, and even less ability to make plans. Without a clearly defined purpose, they would not take the initiative and were next to useless. <There is still purpose, or would you prefer I returned you to your previous existence?>

<No!> both screamed almost in perfect unison. The destruction of the body did not destroy an immortal, at least not entirely. The soul survived, but without Uhl Laeyn to fashion a new shell for it, the soul floated in an etheric limbo with little sense of time, half-remembered memories, and no control over anything. The closest human equivalent would be a paraplegic with Alzheimer�s. If there was a fate worth then death, that was it. Even the dull-witted Cherubim feared purgatory. <What would you have of us?>

There was a pause as the Cherubim did as instructed. <How can this be?> Ta�roa demanded. <We know this one�>

<But there has been a change. A change that should not be possible,> Hev�rem observed. <She is more than she seems, and yet less than what she should be.>

<Like you, she is bound to me, and it is my wish that you are bound to her. Serve her as you would your Creator. That is my price for freeing you.>

Service was something the Cherubim understood only too well. Being confined to the steel of Jenni�s daggers wouldn�t bother them all that much. Existing as a living weapon was still preferable to the alternative they faced if they rejected her offer. Nischa felt their confusion and hostility fade away into calm acceptance of their new role. <Until Uhl Laeyn returns, we shall serve the Blademistress.> They said in unison. Then their images wavered, disintegrating into a soft golden mist that flowed into the steel Jenni clutched.

<Then there is nothing more to say. Serve her well,> Nischa added before closing the telepathic connection. Cherubim were incapable of deception. They would do all she needed them to do. Uhl Laeyn�s return was a long time coming; and with no assurances it would ever actually come, the Cherubim could very well serve until Jenni died of old age. That was good enough. Now she could sit back and watch the fireworks.

Utterly ignorant of the exchange that had just taken place, Jenni nevertheless felt a gentle surge of energy flow through her tired body, softly easing away the fatigue in her muscles and reducing her bruises to easily dismissible aches. In effect, breathing new life into her. Passing the sensation off as a massive, very welcome adrenaline kick, she loosened her grip on her daggers, simultaneously reversed them into the downward stabbing position and fixed Logan with an unholy stare.

Returning her grin, he focused his will, forming a thick, whip-like tendril. Eliza had given him free reign to use kinetic attacks, and while he didn�t actually want to hurt Jenni, heavy blunt-force trauma would be more than enough to bring this fight to a favourable conclusion. Exhaling loudly, he lashed out with the extension, but for some odd reason � she shouldn�t have been able to see the attack coming � Jenni brought the dagger in her left hand up for a short backhand parry as if she were trying to meet a physical attack. The last thing Logan expected to see was his extension exploding in a chaotic release of ether when it made contact with the flat of Jenni�s dagger. The blade should have been able to parry the strike, not utterly destroy the damn whip!

Reforming the whip, he lashed out again, and again. To no avail. Somehow, Jenni always managed to get a dagger between herself and the extension, and every time the extension made contact with her weapons, it disintegrated into nothingness. Logan frowned uncomprehendingly. It hurt� a lot. A less experienced warrior would have been floored by the destruction of a mental extension. The only thing that should be able to destroy an etheric attack like that was another etheric attack! And Jenni had done nothing to make him believe she was capable of affecting ether, to say nothing of her seemingly newfound ability to know exactly where to parry the invisible attacks.

Unbeknownst to him, Jenni was also confused. What the hell was she doing throwing blocking moves against nothing? Well, she quickly revised, maybe not quite nothing. She had felt resistance against her blocks - which made no sense as Logan had been outside striking distance then - and to all appearances, she was just striking air. Was this another one of those kinetic things that Eliza and Logan had spoken about? That invisible shield thing of his was probably some sort of kinetic mumbo jumbo, so this must be too. At least I can block these, she thought, deliberately not trying to understand how she seemed to know where to block things she couldn�t see, or feel until she was in contact with them. Wait! Not me, the daggers! She hadn�t actually deflected any of Logan�s unseen attacks; she�d used her daggers to block them! But if the daggers could beat the unseen attacks, why weren�t they fucking up that unseen shield?

Maybe they couldn�t do anything before, but now they can�? Jenni wondered, as she went through the lightning fast dance of pain avoidance. That didn�t make much sense, but then again, next to nothing about this fight was making much sense away. People were just NOT supposed to have stupid cheating shield thingies that left them hit her without letting her hit back! Maybe God�s finally looking down on me� she thought with a slight smile that caused Logan to redouble the intensity of his attacks. Oh well, gotta� keep moving my babies in case the sonovabitch tries another one of those sneaky invisible things� Oh, and while I�m at it, I might as well see if I can bust his precious bubble�

Maybe they couldn�t do anything before, but now they can�? Jenni wondered, as she went through the lightning fast dance of pain avoidance. That didn�t make much sense, but then again, next to nothing about this fight was making much sense away. People were just NOT supposed to have stupid cheating shield thingys that left them hit her without letting her hit back! Maybe god�s finally looking down on me� she thought with a slight smile that caused Logan to redouble the intensity of his attacks. Oh well, gotta keep moving my babies in case the sonovabitch tries another one of those sneaky invisible things� Oh, and while I�m at it, I might as well see if I can bust his precious bubble�

When Jenni finally took to the offensive, she came all out. A sudden explosion of furious slashes assaulted Logan, seemingly from every side at once. He began to give ground as Jenni advanced, keeping up her furious assault and trying to overwhelm her tutor quickly with pure aggression and blazing speed. Her forms were flawless, absolutely perfect, and she had the speed and dexterity to make them look like pure art. When Jenni finally took to the offensive, she came all out. A sudden explosion of furious slashes assaulted Logan, seemingly from every side at once. He began to give ground as Jenni advanced, keeping up her furious assault and trying to overwhelm her tutor quickly with pure aggression and blazing speed. Her forms were flawless, absolutely perfect, and she had the speed and dexterity to make them look like pure art. This wasn�t her trademark blind rage, this was cold, clinical fury, and he saw it affect her the way it did himself� extreme, deadly focus. Logan moved to block another dagger slash, but Jenni pulled her blade back and turned it into a quick stab, the point of her weapon piercing the kinetic shield and digging into the hard muscle of his left shoulder. Logan grunted and quickly retreated to evaluate the damage.

The wound was superficial, doing little more than breaking the skin and injuring his pride, but it clearly highlighted the fact that the kinetic shield was no longer a barrier against the Batardeau. Logan stood stock still just out of reach, his eyes locked on the swirling blades. He didn�t know if Jenni was actually aware of what she was doing, but continually moving those weapons in short controlled arcs was doing a damn fine job of preventing him from second guessing her. Kinetic Predictably was an art form that few Hunters ever took seriously, for it required intense concentration, and a lot of serious training for it to ever be really worthwhile. And even then, it was only viable in melee combat. Basically, it involved attaching hair fine threads of etheric matter to specific points on an opponent�s body. Threads so fine they went all but unnoticed as they were invisible to the naked eye and did not restrict mobility in the slightest. The idea was that movement was �felt� before it was actually seen, giving the operator, in effect, an early warning system. Admittedly, the warning came only a fraction of a second before the actual movement, but for any good physical adept, that was more than enough. The trouble was that it only worked if the threads remained intact. Jenni�s constant swirling, aside from being quite impressive visually, was dicing up those threads faster than he could reattach them to her.

He covertly gave Eliza a sidelong glance and caught the slight smile on her beautiful face. Bitch.

Logan�s eyes widened in shock. He knew Eliza was a telepath as she�d spoken to him without uttering words before, but the last thing he expected was to find was that she could actually read his thoughts as well. Like all Sersius Hunters, Logan van Ryan had some minor telepathic talent � that came with their bloodlines, but it certainly wasn�t his strong point. He could do little more than send and receive short messages, but the one thing he could do effectively was block his mind. Its emphasis second only to combat training, every potential Hunter had to undergo rigorous tests to ensure he or she could keep their mind locked up to the point where tight mental discipline became about as involuntary as breathing. It shouldn�t have been possible for her to overhear his thoughts without him at least feeling her attempt to gain access. He shot her an irritable glare, knowing even as he did so, that she was undoubtedly amusing herself at his expense as he tried to work out what the hell he was going to do about her poking around inside his head.

<Do I at least get to know how Jenni�s doing this�?> he asked, not even bothering to �address� the message.

<Nope.> He could feel Eliza�s amusement through the telepathic link. <I didn�t tell her anything about your little tricks, so I ain�t tellin� you a thing about hers.>

<Can you at least do me the curtesy of not interfering?> Logan ventured not even bothering to curb the acidity in his thoughts.

<Can you at least do me the curtesy of not interfering?> Logan ventured, not even bothering to curb the acidity in his thoughts.

<Sure thing, darling,> Eliza answered cheerfully. <My little girl over there is going to be very pissed if she finds out she didn�t kick your arse all on her lonesome.>

<Thank heavens for small favours�> Logan returned and refocused all his attention on Jenni.

His kinetic shield wasn�t going to do much good � it would still reduce the effectiveness of Jenni�s kicks and punches, but he didn�t deem that enough to justify maintaining it, and it would be a waste of time to keep trying to reattach threads to her� Fine, he�d just have to fight her the old fashioned way. The stinging pain in his shoulder reminded him that Jenni was certainly good enough to make him work, and in all honestly, there was nothing he liked better than a good, old-fashioned scrap. Logan snorted and shot Jenni a tight condescending smile that he just knew was bound to give her the shits.

She didn�t disappoint him, closing the gap between them quickly and launching a high front kick up that immediately turned into a fast downward axe kick. Neither connected, but Jenni wasn�t stopping there and seamlessly followed through with a straight stabbing jab with the left dagger that coincided almost perfectly with a right horizontal slash that was itself followed with a left elbow strike. Only Logan�s superior training got him through the blisteringly fast barrage unscathed.

He fell into blocking again, waiting for an opportunity to take her down quickly, but despite his best efforts, Logan�s stick didn't so much as get inside her guard again, despite several very clever tricks and feints to lure Jenni out of position. To his immense irritation, he quickly discovered that trying to hit her was like trying to swat a mosquito using a club. She was simply everywhere but in the weapon's path. The girl had always been fast, but now she was a virtual blur. To make things even more difficult, Jenni didn�t seem to be favouring her left hand as much as she had in the past. As both daggers were the same size and she wielded them with equal skill and speed, it was incredibility difficult to work out what was a feint and what wasn�t until it was almost too late. Working with incredible precision at blurring speeds the daggers spun in and out of tightly controlled circles, attacking and reposting without exposing a single exploitable vulnerability.

Abruptly, Jenni turned to the left, as if to retreat, and brought her right leg up, folding it at the knee as she presented her back to him. Logan twisted his body sideways as he closed the distance between them expecting her to fire off a straight back kick but Jenni unexpectedly unfolded her knee, locked it and swung her leg back absolutely straight up as she threw her upper body forward to keep her balance. Her torso and right leg maintained an almost straight line right through the entire movement, performing an inverted standing split as if to do a forward handstand. Had she missed, it would have undoubtedly been the end for her as Logan would be in perfect striking position and she�d be completely off balance.

The heel of her booted foot struck him square under the chin, the raw force of the blow enough to actually pick him off his feet. Logan jack-knifed backwards, landing hard on his back. Her balance shattered by the kick�s connection with its intended target, Jenni finished off the move with a clumsy forward roll that left her flat on her arse but she was on her feet a second later, daggers at the ready to meet the next series of attacks.

�Had to be Chalmes,� he muttered as he ran down the corridor to maths class. Then again�

He entered the classroom and walked quickly over to Mister Chalmes, slapping him in the forehead with a whip probe before the teacher could open his mouth to speak.

Chalmes� eyes came into focus on Alec. He shook his head, apparently thinking better of his usual outburst.

�Take your seat, Roth,� said Chalmes simply, turning his back a little too quickly and resuming his writing on the whiteboard. Alec grinned at his two friends as he sat down.

In spite of his gloominess, Alec suppressed a smile. His friends had doubtlessly missed the bell, again.

�Sucking some professor prick for a bit of leeway, eh?� Marc asked snidely, and apparently a little too loudly.

�I take it from your lack of regard for class time that you already know the material, Renata?�

�Why don�t you give it a shot anyway?� said the teacher, pointing at the complex equation on the board with his whiteboard marker. �You shouldn�t have any trouble if you did last night�s homework. You did do last night�s homework, didn�t you, Renata?�

Alec and Allen fought to keep their faces straight as Marc walked stiffly to the whiteboard and snatched the marker from Chalmes, who perched on the edge of his desk like a particularly skinny bird of prey to watch.

�I can�t do this, Sir,� Marc said after a few moments of squinting at the scribble.

�Kinda anti-climactic�� Jenni admitted. �I mean, that weird-ass back-flip heel-kick thingy wasn�t something I�d learnt to do. It was more of a spur of the moment thing, and I never fucking expected it to work. One of those �why the hell not?� things rather than an actual �here�s my kick-ass finishing move� sorta� thing. I mean Christ, it was risky to the point of being suicidally ridiculous, but I did it without really thinking about what I was doing. For fucks sake, if I�d missed, Logan would have so owned my Matrix-wannabe ass!�

�Fluke,� Jenni declared. Then in a more wistful tone, �or maybe I was just lucky��

Eliza laughed. �Fluke, luck, skill. Does it really matter? You did what you set out to do. Leave it as that.� There was a slight pause, then he heard Eliza chuckle again. �It seems he�s back��

Logan forced open an eyelid to see Jenni�s cute, cherubic face inches away from his, �Told ya� I�d kick your arse!� she said brightly.

�More like my jaw�� he grumbled, gingerly rubbing it and waving Jenni away before slowly sitting up. To his surprise, he was in his bed. How the hell did a pair of girls that couldn�t have weighed more than 110 pounds apiece manage to carry him into his room? �Then again,� he muttered mostly to himself, �one�s a telepath, and the other just knocked you cold, shithead. Who the hell knows what they�re capable of��

He glanced up to see Eliza sitting demurely at the foot of his bed, her knees pulled up to her chest and her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. Jenni, her hair still wet from the shower, sat cross-legged next to Eliza, a big shit-eating grin plastered across her pretty face.

�Nothing. Just talking to myself.� Logan muttered absently. He was about to throw back his sheet and go find a mirror to see how bad they�d mucked his face up when the cool sensation of fabric brushing against bare skin told him someone had apparently undressed him before putting him to bed. Great. Raising an eyebrow, he nodded at his sheet-clad modesty and then fixed Eliza and Jenni with a cool stare. �And which of you two is responsible for this?� he asked, only to receive knowing looks that were followed almost immediately by a round of hysterical girlish giggles.

�Great, first I get my arse handed to me on a plate, then I get stripped naked and laughed at.� He turned his eyes to the ceiling and soberly declared, �God, you�re a rat bastard!� to the obvious delight of the present company.

�Cheer up, Logy,� Eliza patted his knee reassuringly, �Jenni only copped a couple of feels��

�Me?� Jenni tried to look scandalized, and failed miserably, �you were the one who couldn�t get his cute unconscious butt undressed fast enough!�

Unable to resist, Jenni pouted theatrically and in a little girl voice added, �aw, Logy-Pogy�s all upset� wook, Lizzy-Wizzy he�s eben bwushing��

�Can�t think why,� Eliza teased, �he�s certainly got nothing to be ashamed off.� To Logan�s intense irritation, that prompted yet another round of girlish giggling.

�Are we quite done?� he gritted when the laughter had subsided enough for him to be heard.

�Yeah, yeah, yeah. But considering the fact I just got my arse whooped by a girl almost young enough to be my daughter, I think I have a right to be a little miffed.� Logan grumbled sourly. He made a show of rubbing his jaw again, and then flashed Jenni a light smile while offering his hand. �Great shot by the way. Never saw that one coming.�

Ignoring his hand, Jenni threw her arms around him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek before pulling away quickly to hide the blush spreading across her face.

�Yeah, well�� Eliza said softly, �We better wrap this show up now before it gets anymore soppy.� To Jenni she said, �why don�t you go see to your stuff? We�ll ship out when you�re ready, so you might as well bring your bags down to the lounge��

�Sure,� Jenni nodded, grateful for the escape route. She offered Logan a sheepish grin and slipped out of the room silently.

�Definitely.� Eliza agreed, before looking at Logan quizzically. �Tempted?�

Logan sank back into his pillows and sighed loudly. �If I was maybe ten years younger and not very happily married, yeah, sure. She�d have to beat me off with a stick. Now? Now I�ve got my darling Vanessa in my life, and Mikayla driving us both crazy with her 13-year old antics��

Eliza smiled. �Just you wait, give her a couple more years and that darling daughter of yours is going to grow up into a grade-A heartbreaker.�

Logan nodded, wincing at the thought, and surprised that he didn�t feel the least bit worried about the fact his employer knew all about his family. He couldn�t really explain why, but over the last couple of days, against his better judgement, he�d stopped seeing the blonde as a threat. He knew that there was much more to her than met the eye � not that what did meet the eye was anything to complain about � but in an uncharacteristically weird way, he trusted her. �So what happens now?�

�Now? I send Jenni back to Sydney. I�ve already dealt with your final payment, so I guess this is it.�

She grinned mischievously and shuffled a little closer. �Why? Were you hoping for more?�

�Yeah, the full back story about Menthayel.� Logan told her, pointedly refusing to rise to the bait.

�Deal with it. Vanessa bought the sole rights to my dick when she accepted that oversized ice-cube of a ring. I might be a guy, but I�m not stupid enough to go home smelling like some other woman�s perfume.�

�Then there is still hope for the world,� Eliza chuckled. �Tell you what, why don�t you take a nap or have a shower or something. I�ll use your SUV to get Jenni to Newcastle, and then I�ll be back with your story.�

Alec wandered the corridors after school. Ten minutes earlier, the final bell had dismissed the students from their last class and that short period was more than sufficient for everybody to get �gone�. His �Nothing to See Here� shield protected him from curious staff members. He had a sense that Elaine was there today, similar to the sense that told him when Nischa or his father was near. Logic dictated that she must be in the staff room, but he followed the sense of her anyway, and sure enough, soon found himself outside the staff room door.

He opened the door and stepped inside, noting that none of the handful of educators present looked up to see who had opened the door. He shrugged and guessed that the shield that covered everything within a few feet of his body also included the noise of the door. Elaine was at her small desk in the corner, writing something in a thick folder. Touching all of the teachers but her, he dismissed them one by one, watching them say their quick goodbyes or make hasty excuses before leaving the room as rapidly as possible.

He dragged a chair from an adjacent desk and sat down across from her. God, she was beautiful. With a start, Alec realised that this was about the first time he�d looked at Elaine Jensen. Really looked at her. She�d been a major crush ever since he woke up to find her at his side in that sick room months ago, but he hadn�t really paid all that much attention to her as an actual living, breathing woman. Elaine had been the perfect abstract fantasy, she had been a token he�d teasingly flirted with or admired from a distance as far as propriety allowed, and a fantasy she had remained until he�d broken into her house. Aside from the time they�d spent in the sick room, she had never been a person to him. She was a teacher, she was older than he was, and she was an exceptionally beautiful woman. The combined weight of those points put her way above him, and coupled with the old inferiority complex he had yet to totally shake free of, they had conspired to prevent him from really looking at her. How could he, really? Beauty falling for the Beast was a fairy tale. He never had a chance with her, so, perhaps subconsciously, he hadn�t allowed himself to look at her the way he might look at a prospective girlfriend. Elaine Jensen was the perfect unattainable.

It felt wrong to just sit there and stare at her, but he felt secure in the knowledge she couldn�t see him, and was totally unaware of his presence. And to be honest, the slight voyeuristic thrill aside, Alec found he didn�t have to try very hard to like looking at her. Elaine�s thick, golden hair was longer now, parted neatly down the centre with the left side tucked behind her ear, and the right tumbling freely down the side of her face until the honey blonde mass was split by her shoulder. There were faint creases on her brow as she continued to peruse the folder before her that Alec found oddly attractive. They made her look somewhat older, but there was still enough youth in her features to allow her to pass for a mate�s big sister. Because of the angle and less than perfect lighting, her eyes seemed to be a darker shade of blue than he remembered, and there were dark pink circles around them, but that did little to distract from the overall effect. She was still incredibly gorgeous. He continued to watch her in silence as the minutes ticked by, his presence still hidden, wondering what he should do. Would he say anything to her? Offer an apology before purging her memory? He shook his head. No. He could not simply appear out of thing air like that and scare her.

The creases on her brow deepened into a fully-fledged look of startled confusion as she glanced up from her folder. For a second he could have sworn she saw straight through his shield, but she got up and opened the door, looking both ways down the hall before returning to her desk.

Alec stood up quickly, knocking over his borrowed chair. She could sense him! He didn�t know how, didn�t even think it was possible, but she could definitely sense him! Feeling like a coward, he ran for the door.

�I� I know you�re here, Alec,� Elaine said softly, freezing him in his tracks. �I don�t know how I know, but I do.�

�Please come out,� she begged, her lower lip trembling. �We need to talk about� about last night.�

�Please?� she asked still more softly, her eyes pleading. �Please don�t leave me here like this. I can�t��

Alec raced out the door and slammed it behind him, standing with his back against it, his heart pounding. Inside the staff room, he heard her begin to cry.

If he�d thought he�d felt bad before, it was nothing on what he felt now. He couldn�t do it. He simply could not rob her of her memories, not after all he�d already taken. The thought of her acting as though nothing had happened was more than he could bear. Without her memories, she�d lack even the simple ability to hate him for what he�d done to her. It would be the cowardly thing to do, and he was sick of feeling like a coward. He bloody well deserved to be hated. It was the price he had to pay. It struck him as ironic that after years of being afraid of everybody and everything, he was scared of nothing but the opinion of one helpless woman.

The irony of running from something while refusing to be a coward was lost on him. He was certain his NTSH field kept him safe from prying eyes, despite the fact that Elaine had sensed him.

A sound distracted him. Surely everyone was long gone by now. Who would be giving a lesson at this hour? He asked himself as he peered through the reinforced glass window in the door and saw a girl standing alone in front of a classroom full of empty desks. Despite the lack of an audience � or perhaps because of it � she spoke animatedly, gesturing with her hands and barely looking at the palm-cards she held loosely in one hand. Realising that she must be practicing for an oral presentation, Alec went inside and took a seat in the front row, figuring that anything would do for a distraction at this point.

He didn�t particularly care what she was talking about. Her tone was light, though serious, and unhurried. Without conscious thought, he let his eyes run over her, and was pleased with what he saw. She was a hazel-eyed blonde with a cute little fringe and pigtails that were twisted rather than braided. Her slender neck caught his attention immediately as he brought his eyes down from her very pretty face. She was a lot shorter than he was, but easily as curvy as a grown woman. More in fact, as her breasts looked very large on her little frame. It seemed that the Turnam High uniform was tailored perfectly to show off her body. Her blouse was snug over her breasts and stomach, the skirt clinging to her hips nicely. Even the gold-striped, navy blue tie seemed sexy. He closed his eyes and the greyscale world appeared instantly, showing him her panties � tiny, with little more than a string for a waistband and a narrow strip covering her crotch. Either girls were putting a lot more thought into their choice of underwear than he�d previously thought, or he was choosing to perve almost exclusively on little sex kittens. Either way, he was pleased. He then realised that she had stopped speaking and was staring into space.

The same way that the grey pipe was no longer necessary to get into somebody�s mind, the intent alone was now enough to open her mind and send her catatonic. A disturbing thought came to mind. If, after only a few tries, he didn�t need the whip, why was Raphael using it? Was Alec that much more powerful, or was Raphael testing him? What were his motives and, if he really did want to control Alec, what did he want to make Alec do?

The girl stood, unmoving, oblivious to his presence in the room. Alec knew what he wanted to do, and the very thought of it shamed him. Only a man could feel horny while lamenting his own guilt. Was that true? Would all men feel this way? Would they give in to the impulse, or would their better nature take over? If he did it this way, with her mind wide open and her pretty eyes all but blind to his actions, was it less wrong than what he�d done to Elaine?

Alec shook his head. He had to stop trying to justify his actions. It was obvious that he would continue to do this for as long as he could get away with it, and that - according to Nischa and his father - would be forever. He couldn�t continue to exist like this, swimming with guilt, yet continuing to act in the same way. If he continued to feel guilt and shame every single time he did this, he�d drive himself crazy. Something needed to change.

Might is Right, Alec told himself. The two most powerful beings he knew had given him their blessing to do as he saw fit with the powers at his disposal, but it wasn�t enough. He didn�t need their blessing, he needed his own. He felt as though a great realisation had come to him, but it was merely a decision. He could not feel guilt anymore for acting in his own nature. He could not allow human emotion to affect his Angelic nature.

The field around him extended effortlessly to fill the room, overlapping the door and windows.

�It�s your lucky day,� he told the girl � Sally � silkily as he stood.

Tendrils of thought snaked around her body like heated bolts of raw silk. The string of her panties snapped at her hips and the tiny scrap of cloth fell between her legs. Her bust fell slightly as he undid her bra and the buttons of her blouse slipped from their holes. Her tie soon joined her panties on the floor. Alec savoured the sight of her naked flesh. Her nipples were hard already from his invisible touch, her pupils dilated with unconscious lust.

Instead of words or thoughts, Alec fed her mind with lust. A tumble of images and sensations appeared in response, the sum-total of her sexual experience. Her own fingers awakening her lust, the rough but electric fumblings of an older boy, and finally the joyous pleasure of a thick, hard cock inside her, her thighs squeezing the bony hips of a nameless, faceless lover. So she wasn�t a virgin. Didn�t matter. Alec vowed to use every power, every trick at his disposal, to give her something she�d never felt before. And in all likeliness, never feel from anyone but him.

He began to undo his tie, then stopped, a smile on his lips. If he was going to fuck her like a Nephelim, he was damned well going to undress like it, too. He undid the buttons of his shirt with an invisible touch. His shoelaces were a little more tricky, but not by much. Before long he was completely nude, his stiff cock pointing straight at her. There would be nothing tender, nothing loving, and most importantly, nothing shameful. He held her mind in thrall, and he could do just about anything he wanted to, and make her love it. Make her scream his name, make her beg him, like getting her brains fucked out was the most important thing in her entire world. Fuck guilt. It served no purpose other than to make him feel like shit. He had to move beyond that.

Sally�s eyes widened, then narrowed slightly as they fell upon Alec. They widened again when she saw his cock.

�Of course you do,� Alec said with a small smile. �Come here and show me how much.� His invisible touch followed her as she took two steps toward him, and then threw herself into his arms. More truly, into his face. Her pink lips closed over his quickly with all the enthusiasm the young girl could bring to bear as her fingers stroked the hard contours of his chest and squeezed his muscle-bound shoulders. Her lust was a pulsating thing inside her, screaming for release. He could nearly feel her clit pulsating and burning as she rubbed her crotch against his thigh. He picked her up easily and sat her on the teacher�s desk. Without pause, he positioned his cock at her hot, slick opening and pushed it inside.

Sally cried out into his mouth, but he would not allow her to pull away. Their lips locked together, tongues dancing, as he thrust slowly into her. This was a far cry from his union with the unwilling Elaine, and even further from his near-frantic coupling with Dave�s sister. This was enthusiasm at its best, the beautiful girl�s complete surrender not only to her own lust, but also to Alec�s dominance. She alternated her own movements in concert with his, hammering her crotch into his on the in-stroke, and her chest into his squeezing, probing hands on the out-. Once more Alec knew the heady, exultant pleasure of complete dominance over another. He did not have to take by force. He could bend any woman�s will to his own. He could make her enjoy it, make her love it. Make the gorgeous little darling into his bitch, his concubine. His adjusted her mind again, and began to re-work her fantasies. Suddenly he was her dream guy. Her every fibre screamed for his touch, and with each caress, each thrust, he brought her closer to the edge. He was the fulfilment of every naughty daydream, his face interposed over that of every actor, schoolboy and pinup she�d ever fantasised over.

Every motion, every movement, every flex of his muscles seemed to hit her erogenous zones perfectly. It was as though he knew her body better than she knew it herself. Little did she know that his mental feelers were branching through her, awakening, and gently massaging, every sensitive area in her body. Sally�s moans became cries as sweat broke out over her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth went slack� then her whole body tensed as she spasmed in orgasm. He pushed her back onto the desk and lay on top of her, still thrusting. Alec�s orgasm crested as Sally�s subsided.

�Love you, love you, love you,� Sally whispered into his ear as she held him, shuddering in her arms. At that point in time, damned if he didn�t love her right back. It was the love of the moment, and he knew it would be forgotten in a few minutes. For now, he basked in the adoration as he lay on top of her, his cock still hard inside her, her arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. He looked into her eyes, careful not to put her into a daze this time, and kissed her once more. Let her have the fantasy for now� even if he�d block her from sharing it with anyone else.

Still reliving in glorious technicolour the events of the last hour with the delectable Sally, Alec was halfway up the steps to his room when he heard Lindsey call from the living room.

�A visitor came for you today while you were at school,� she said, picking something up from the coffee table and handing it to him. It was a slim package covered in brown paper. There was no note to give a clue as to what it was or who had left it.

�You know, he didn�t give his name. He was very polite, though. Looked a bit like a little priest, all dressed in black and no hair at all.�

�Oh,� said Alec, realisation dawning. �That was probably Raphael. He�s a friend of mine.�

�Not really. It�s probably a book we were talking about the other day. He said he might drop it over, but I thought he�d do it while I was home. Thanks for that.�

The package tucked under his arm, he headed to his room and set it down on the study desk before pulling up a chair. It was a book, as he�d expected, entitled Magick and Mentalism. The author was Lesenthe, the same guy (he assumed it was a guy, anyway) who�d penned Maleficia. It was fairly old looking � the flyleaf said the publication date was in the early seventies � but well cared for. Tucked between the flyleaf and cover was a note.

As promised, here is a copy of Maleficia�s companion book. I have two copies, so you can keep this one. Call it a gift to a new student of our mutual interest.

The term �magick� in the book�s title is misleading. The talents you, I, and many of the Order�s other members possess are what the author would term Mentalism � psychic ability. It is the belief of the author that all feats of magick � that is, Mentalism assisted, or replaced, with ritual � can be performed by the mind alone, without the help of the rituals that a magickian relies upon. Those of us who can manipulate mind and matter are the lucky few. Anyone else wishing to do so must resort to ritual.

With this goal in mind, the formulae in the book use no ritual � or magick � whatsoever, and are therefore exceptionally difficult to learn if you do not already possess the ability. Don�t be discouraged if they are too difficult for you right now. I�ve never met a person who could do all of the things listed in this book. Play to your strengths and see what you can do. I�m always available for advice should you need it.

Alec put aside the note and leafed lazily through the book. The style was similar to that of Maleficia, slightly reminiscent of a textbook and included many diagrams and illustrations. The foreword included a more long-winded explanation on what Raphael had already said in his letter about the difference between magick and mentalism, and had the names of a few reference books on magick for those readers interested in the subject. Alec skipped quickly through this section � the idea of waving his hands and chanting weird words seemed more like something from a bad movie than a way of getting what he wanted. He stopped at the section on �Thought Theft and Mental Manipulation�, catching sight of a full-page charcoal illustration of a woman being subjected to a whip probe similar to the one that Raphael had attempted to use on him. The image was both disturbing and intriguing. There was no way Raphael would have put this book in his hands if he hadn�t meant for Alec to see that drawing.

Alec rested his chin in his hands and stretched out on his bed. So he was being tested. Or perhaps challenged? He read rapidly, taking in the instructions on the use of what the author termed a �Control Filament�. The majority of the instructions seemed like a thorough waste of time � the would-be controller was expected to spend a week visualising the thing and imagining it in use before actually trying to use it. The formula for its use was no less exhaustive, with another two weeks devoted to stroking the target�s forehead without even trying to spring open the mind. There was no mention of opening minds without the probe, either. Was this what Raphael had meant by playing to your strengths?

There was a section on basic shielding, though this was much less exhaustive than the one in Maleficia, as well as mental fields that sounded a lot like his �Nothing to See Here� field, but were attached to stationary objects rather than moving bodies. His interest piqued, Alec continued to read. This technique was evidently even more difficult to master than the whip, as it involved a week of solid work to cover or �enchant� a small object like a coin, and no reference at all was made of the process being sped up. An hour each day for two days was needed to create a �container� field around the object, with the remaining four going toward filling the field with commands and then sealing it. The desired effect was to affect anyone who came into contact with the field with the desired commands. The field had, the author explained, to be very strong in order to compensate for not opening the target�s mind beforehand. But if that were true, why did his field work with so little work behind it? It seemed to contradict what the author said in Maleficia about fields similar to his own NTSH shield. Then again, he reasoned, the average ritualist starting from scratch would, in all likeliness, have very little mental discipline. The long drawn-out practice sessions and taking each step at a leisurely pace wouldn�t just be a careful way to teach them, it would be necessary to bring them to the point where they could focus intently on one thing at a time in perfect clarity.

But by contrast, Maleficia didn�t promote the �theory of� or the long build up and preparation times. Had Lesenthe changed his mind about the application of mentalism later? Raphael called this book the companion piece to Maleficia, and while both books shared a similar instructional style, there was a marked difference in the preparation times, the relative strengths of the �spells� and the amount of theory being discussed. The more he considered the differences between the two books, the more Alec leaned towards the idea that Maleficia was not the companion book that Raphael had claimed, but rather, the practical follow-up. The advanced version. That made sense, but only to a degree. Ritualistically, Maleficia qualified as a logical development from Magick and Mentalism, but it also introduced completely new concepts with next to no introductions, and included an absolute plethora of information about what Alec was currently terming �nasties�.

It was an intriguing question, but as he had no way of answering it, one that did him little service in the present.

Taking a one-dollar coin from his wallet, Alec began to experiment. He closed his eyes and reverted to the greyscale, weaving a fine mesh of vibratory threads around the coin as per the book�s instructions. He could see his own advantage immediately � anyone else would have to imagine the threads, whereas he could see them immediately. It was fiddlier than he�d expected, and the threads had a tendency to thicken like smoke rings and fade away if he didn�t concentrate on what he was doing. Even with this minor setback, he managed to completely surround the coin in a little more than a half hour. The next step was to enter the commands. The author suggested imagining a ray of light emanating from between the eyes and filling the cage. After a few tries, Alec decided to try something else. But what? Inspired by the smoke-like effect of the threads, he conjured a cloud of mental smoke and concentrated on it instead.

Sneeze three times, Alec commanded the smoke, for want of a more creative idea. The final step was to make the mesh close around the thoughts, which was the work of a few seconds. He regarded his creation in greyscale for a moment, seeing the smoke moving slightly as it rotated around the coin, fixed in the centre by his mesh, before switching back to normal vision and picking up the coin. He smirked when he didn�t immediately start sneezing.

�Can�t expect it to work first time,� he said, shrugging, and replaced the coin in his wallet. He�d worry about it later.

�Oh, for heaven�s sake,� said Lindsey in a more reasonable tone. �Come down, will you?�

Alec grinned as he headed downstairs, the coin forgotten. He didn�t really feel like McDonalds, but what was life without tradition?

�Have you had a chance to take a look at that book?� Raphael asked from across the round Java Town table.

�Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. I�ve read through a few chapters,� said Alec, sipping his latte.

�Yeah, but I don�t think it worked,� said Alec, remembering the coin and fishing it out of his wallet. �I tried it on a little pebble, and that one worked, but I didn�t bring it with me.�

�The coin was supposed to work on people, but the rock makes fluoro lights dim when it comes near them.� He passed the coin to Raphael, who promptly sneezed three times before adopting an astonished expression. �You made it what?�

�Ha! I guess it did work,� laughed Alec. �When you hold the pebble near a fluorescent light it makes it go dim. Nothing fancy.�

�Nothing fancy?� Raphael repeated incredulously. �This coin was supposed to make me sneeze, by the way?�

�That�s odd. You mind if I keep this?� Alec shrugged, and Raphael slipped the coin into his pocket. �You�re telling me,� he continued, �that you enchanted an object to affect physical objects?�

�No.� Raphael said quietly, �as a matter of fact, I�ve never met anybody who could. Can I see this pebble of yours?�

Raphael shook his head in disbelief. �You�ll have to forgive my scepticism, but this I have to see.�

�Alright,� said Alec, producing another coin and putting it on the table. The exercises he�d read in the book for clearing and focussing the mind weren�t really necessary � once he�d set his mind to something like this it didn�t waver. It was just so damned interesting! The threads were the most difficult part, but he managed to create a firm mesh on the first try. Next he made the mental smoke.

�D�you think you can make it work with a regular light bulb?� Raphael suggested, pointing to the small table lamp.

�I�ll give it a go,� said Alec, and before long had the command securely embedded in the container field. �There you go,� he said, sealing it up and flipping the coin to Raphael.

Raphael squinted at the coin for almost a full minute before holding it up to the lamp, which promptly went out. He looked amazed.

�Why isn�t it supposed to work on physical objects, anyway? The book didn�t say anything about that.�

�Human minds are easier to control once you actually get into them. You simply enter the command, and the mind interprets it. One can manipulate a physical object because it�s the mind of the controller that interprets the command and makes it work. The command itself isn�t � or shouldn�t be � enough to do the job.� He squinted at the coin again and shook his head. �This field is very complex. It would take, well� weeks, if not months, for me to reproduce this, and that�s if I could do it at all, which I seriously doubt.�

Raphael nodded eagerly. �I�d like you to try this with more complex objects. Your feat with the light bulb is most likely controlling the flow of electrons running through the bulb�s filament to make them slow down or stop. Microprocessors run by diverting electrons along different pathways. Try something simple, like a calculator, and see if you can get a result. And while you�re at it, you might like to document your experiments.� He reached into his coat�s inner pocket and produced a small but thick leather-bound book. �I was going to give you the journal anyway so you could chart your own progress. That way you can go back later and see what works best for you.�

�Sure,� said Alec, taking the book. It was covered in black leather and had a little fold-over lock with a clasp. �How do I open this exactly?�

�That�s another little test for you,� said Raphael with his usual enigmatic smile. �The lock is internal and has no external means of operation. I know you can move objects that you can see. Let�s see how you go with ones that you can�t. As a bonus, this kind of lock can�t be picked.�

�Okay,� said Alec, slipping the book into his own pocket. He�d figure out the book later.

�Coffee�s on me, by the way,� said Raphael, signalling a waitress as he stood.

�My pleasure. Give me a call if you need to talk. Shall we say one week for the project?�

�I�ll have Jana have a look at them. Her etheric senses are far better than mine. Maybe she can figure out exactly how they work. That�s if you don�t mind, of course?�

�Uh, no, that�s okay,� said Alec, who in fact minded quite a bit. What if she managed to work out what he was? There wasn�t much he could do now that Raphael had the objects. To refuse would only make it obvious he had something to hide.

Seated on a long, corrugated iron bench in the �smoking allowed� section of Central Station, Alec absently stared into the space between his feet as he tried to predict the consequences of Raphael and Jana�s inspection of his coins. What if they found out who he was? Raphael seemed convinced that his minor enchanting xof the items was something clearly above the norm, so would his heritage shine through his work under close scrutiny? And if they did work out what he was, what were they going to do about it?

Alec looked up to see a rather attractive Goth smiling down at him. For a moment, he thought of Chantelle, but as quickly as the thought appeared, it was quashed by the fact he was more than happy to throw this chick on the ground and screw her silly. Glossy, midnight-black hair was pinned back, leaving a few loose strands to serve as a fringe and large, blue-green eyes, artificially darkened by slate grey eyeliner, regarded him quizzically from a sharp-featured but pretty face.

�Uh, no�� Alec blinked, and stared at her for a long moment. ��Nadine?�

�Uh, what�?� he gestured at her tight lacy blouse and black ankle length skirt. �And� uni�?�

�It�s called a makeover,� she laughed. �I wasn�t getting rid of my jewellery, so that didn�t leave me with very many viable options. A bottle of hair dye, a little makeup and a new wardrobe, and presto! A whole new me! You like?�

�Mid-semester break,� she answered, rolling a lock of hair around her finger. �And what are you up too? Planning on staring a hole right through the concrete to China?�

�Oh,� Alec muttered, depressingly remembering what he�d been thinking about. �Just got a lot of stuff that�s giving me the shits something chronic.�

�Well you�re bloody morbid today,� she grumbled flopping onto the seat beside him.

�Bah, I�ve just got a lot to deal with right now is all...� Alec shot back defensively.

Because the bench was long enough, she kicked her legs out, rolled over onto her belly and propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. �Wanna� talk about it?�

Alec shook his head. �Nah, its just some personal crap I need to get my head around.�

She waited, but when it was obvious he wasn�t going to volunteer any more, said, �That�s cool, but hey, if you change your mind and decide you want someone to bitch and moan and cry to, I�m here� for the next three days at least.�

�Heh! Un-bloody-likely,� Alec snorted. How could he even begin to tell her about Elaine, and his guilt over secretly loving what he�d done to her, and the Order and the rest of that crap? There was no way Nadine could understand that. Hell, it was happening to him, and he still didn�t totally understand it! �But thanks for the offer anyways.� He added, relieved she hadn�t pushed the issue.

�S�okay. But then again, that�s what mates are for aye. You need to spill your guts, look me up.�

He looked up just in time to catch a dazzling smile appear across her face. In spite of himself, Alec grinned, feeling his dark mood lighten. �Thanks,� he told her sincerely.

Nadine shrugged, rolled over onto her back and rested her head on his stomach. She reached out lazily for his cigarettes and lit one up without a word, doing well to put forward the impression it was no big deal. For some reason, that made him feel even better knowing that she was content to just let it rest until he felt otherwise. The last thing he needed was someone trying to force themselves into his life, and it nice to know she cared enough to drop it, and cared for no other reason than friendship. Marc and Allen were good mates, but he couldn�t really talk to them about anything serious. He could talk to Chantelle, but even then, there were limits to what he could say. As much as he loved the Void Jumper, he couldn�t help feeling that very real divide between them. She was the perfect platonic comfort, but there were times when even that wasn�t quite enough. On a similar token, his father was strong shoulder to lean on, but the quiet authority Menthayel projected made it difficult for Alec to talk to him as an equal about personal weaknesses. To say nothing of the fact it made him feel like an absolute pussy to have to keep running to his father whenever anything upset him. Likewise, Steve and Lindsey were great, but he also considered them his parents. One just did NOT talk to one�s parents about the sort of issues he was trying to deal with. But Nadine had been a lover, his first, and that put her in a unique position. He didn�t love her � or at least, he wasn�t IN love with her, and he was pretty sure she felt the same way about him. But they still shared a level of intimacy that was absent from all the other social relationships he had. While he couldn�t quite explain why, that let him let her get a lot closer than he let anyone else. Maybe the penis does rule my life� he thought whimsically. But either way, while he wasn�t about to tell her dick, it did a lot of good for his mood to know she was there, and she cared.

If it wouldn�t have made him feel like an absolute limp-dicked pansy, he�d have gratefully hugged her. And then probably cried or something equally faggoty�

�So whaddaya� wanna� do now?� he asked before raising his bottle of coke to his lips.

Exhaling smoke and smiling serenely up at the tiled ceiling, Nadine timed it perfectly.

Alec still had a mouthful of sugared, acidic tooth rot when she nonchalantly said, �Oh, I was thinking of fingering myself to a screaming orgasm. Wanna watch?�

Coke shot out of his nostrils and he almost choked to death over her delighted laughter.

The Nephelim
Chapter 8
animus and Staine

Act VIII

The Nephelim Chapter 8 animus and Staine

Act VIII

The Nephelim
Chapter 8
animus and Staine