Coach's eyes bulged like a fish, pupils boring holes through my head. I looked up from my quad stretch, attempting to smile. Nerves turned it into a grimace.
“Callie,” he said softly.
“Yes, Coach?” I said meekly. The other girls shot me sympathetic glances.
He stood rod-staight like a military general, arms folded behind his back. “What's in a week?”
“Our meet.”
“What meet?”
“A track meet...”
“And what do athletes do before meets?”
“Carb load?”
“Train, Callie. Athletes train,” he said decisively. “And our top varsity runner decided to skip practice Friday. What sort of message does that send, Parker? What example does it set for the underclassmen that look up to her?” He looked down his long nose at me, a slight sn
“You're suspended in mid-air, and you're part goat. Pardon my French, but what the bleeding heck? The peeping-tom poltergeist in the locker room was bad enough!”“There's a resident pervert of the spiritual nature in every changing room full of nubile young maidens,” Puck said sagely. He landed on his feet and scuffled towards me. The sprite stood tall, bent over like a slender tree. His limbs were long and sinuous, and his tail swished in the breeze. Puck's yellow eyes danced with amusement. “Oberon puts those shades to shame, though,” he whispered confidantly. “I'd hasten to lock my doors, were I you.”My cheeks blazed red. “You're disgusting, the both of you.”Puck laughed jovially. “Pardon if my coarse manners offend. I tell it like it is, sparing no truths betwixt. What might I say? My kind loves a merry ro
“But don't agents have to be trained?”Samael grinned, pouring himself more tea. “Smart girl. These-” he said, reaching behind the table and withdrawing three leather-bound tomes, “-are for you to memorize.” He plopped them down in my lap.They smelled musty and looked ancient. I opened the top one: vellum pages, elaborate hand-inked script, illuminated pictures- it looked like a medieval grimoire. I read their faded spines: “'THE SECRETIVE HISTORIE OFE DAEMONS AND FEY, bye LORD SAMMAEL MALKIRA.' 'An Inquiry Into the Heavenly Spheres; or, the Spiritual Realms: A Treatise by Dr. Mephistopheles.' 'The Idiot's Guide to Hell- by Aym the Disgruntled, upon Threat of Blackmail by Samael the Git.” I looked at him questioningly, holding the first one. “You wrote this? The handwriting's indecipherable,” I observed, examining the spidery script
I sat on the porch in the autumn twilight, pouring through the leather bound tome on my lap. Frustration mounting, I flipped through the pages, searching. NPR drifted from the kitchen as my father shelled oysters for dinner.“And in local news, a horrifying murder occurred in Anacostia this evening. Police just recently discovered the mutilated body of a sex worker in a dumpster on Good Hope Road. Commuters are advised to avoid the area, as the scene is closed to the public. Her identity is unknown, but her body shows evidence of brutal assault. The case is under intensive investigation. If you have any information, please contact local authorities.”The book shook in my hands. I cursed, slamming it shut. “You just won't tell me what I need to know, will you?” I said darkly.The book stirred, spine shivering. Surprised, I traced the stacked pages. A paper cut me.&n
Certain physicists have come to the conclusion that our universe is made of strings. While their simian minds are too primitive to grasp the true nature of the cosmos, the metaphor gives an accurate model of Creation at large.Whether the world is made of strings or string-cheese, and the moon is rock or Swiss, the material of existence has certain qualities. Swiss, as you know, has holes in it. Threads break. And string-cheese, obviously, is designed to peel. It's all very well that humans have discovered the material of the universe. But the sad fact remains that they understand little about it.The tapestry of our universe is imperfect. It unravels. It comes undone. An occasional hole pops up, and its edges fray with time. Wormholes, physicists call them. As if some hungry annelid munched its way through space and popped out into another dimension. Higher beings laugh at our
Seth punched his hand away. “See, Callie, you don't wanna get in a car with this guy.”“'Course she does,” Baxter brushed him off. “I'm taking Parker somewhere sweet tonight, and everybody wants to ride the Baxter machine-”Retha cleared her throat loudly, indicating the conversation was getting too crass for her refined taste. Baxter winked at me. “See yah tonight, Parker,” he grinned, saluting me as he jogged back to the Meatheads.“Why is the football team filled entirely with dorks?” Eva moaned.“Cute dorks, though,” Retha corrected.“I'm going on a date with Baxter,” I said incredulously. “Is the sky falling? Is D.C. up in flames?”My friends looked at me like I'd sprouted a third limb. “You asked for it,” Seth snorted. “Though why, I've got no idea.
“Hey, wait!” I panicked. No way in hell was I staying here. I straddled Pallor, trying to start it uselessly. Cursing, I turned to run but stopped dead in my tracks. Hooked bat wings crept round the building's corner. I froze, overwhelmed by terror as a foul-smelling cold mist filled the alley. Ragged breaths came from the beast. It sniffed the air viciously, and a monstrous, leathery black hand grasped at the bricks. Its hulking form stalked forwards.Bile rose in my throat at the sight of its naked, bat-like body, belly swollen with God knew what. It looked exactly like the monster from Samael's book. The incubus spoke, voice grating like the clang of metal chains. “Ah, what a delightful encounter!” it howled, unsheathing razor claws. “Another idiot mortal ripe for devouring. This town is an endless buffet.”I was rooted to my spot in horror. It smirked g
“Hey, Parker,” Baxter said woozily, bruises under his eyes, “about Friday...” He leaned weakly against the locker. “Did we...?”“Huh?” I asked in confusion, zipping my Calculus book into my backpack.The hulking linebacker actually blushed. “I can't remember much. That usually happens when a) I've had a concussion, or b) I've been drinking. Did we have too many shots, and then, y'know...?” He blushed.“No,” I said firmly. “Definitely not, Baxter.”“Oh, ok. Phew,” he said. “Hey, it was fun and all- at least, I think it was- but I don't think we're built for one another, if yah know what I mean. You're too intense for me.”I smiled. “You're right, Baxter. Friends?” I asked, extending my hand.“Right,” he said, slapping it. My pa
Rain fell softly beyond the window, clinging to the balding autumn trees. Eva tapped her pencil against the desk, humming as our Calculus teacher handed back tests. I froze, heart racing as he approached. He raised his brow: “Callie Parker, excellent work... except for the fact that you integrated instead of derived.”I went pallid. “Oh god. Did I?-”“Fail? No. I gave you half credit on those problems. The effort was spectacular. Just be more alert next time. The AP graders, unlike me, will be relentless.”I cursed inwardly as he handed me my test with a thin smile. “C+,” I groaned, slamming my head against the desk. “I hate math.”Eva smiled serenely at her A, putting it in her skull covered binder. “Lo siento, chica. But it's just one C.”“In a continent of failed tests. I
I surfaced from his memories, finding his head in my lap. He clutched at my back like Jacob's wrestling angel. “You were so- so young.” I said. He hadn't been more than eighteen in his memories. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I stole you. I thought you were mine. It is how I understood things, as toy soldiers and spoils of war. It was not until I saw my brothers die for me that I realized the gravity of what I had done. I thought I was liberating us, that I would challenge our Father and demand our freedom.” “He would not let us step a foot past the Abyss, told us that it was the end. But I hungered for knowledge, and I sought more, made a pact with it. The void showed me what was Beyond, for a price. Now, in a sense, I am it. It drove me mad, or perhaps made me insane. Just like our Father was. He thought Himself the only one. He could not bear to know there were oth
I have loved you since conception, through the banks of time and across the waters of life.When I first saw you, Eve, you were golden. Father shepherded the twins proudly in to the court room, first-formed of humankind, made in the image of God. My brothers and I sang, welcoming you into the world. Adam gazed vacantly up at the Father, empty-headed and waiting to be crowned with His glorious Light. You were created to be his vessel as well, but your eyes stayed closed, refusing to open, and you drew soft, cool breaths, as if waiting for the moon to rise. It was not until I held you that you opened them. I still can not fathom that moment: their blue waters met my depths.My heart stopped, and I refused to part from you. God laughed and said I had the makings of a man in me. I did not know what I felt. I just stared into the question of your lips and waited, knowing in time, we would be.I held you at your christening and lowered y
“You look like a rabbit when you sleep. Your nostrils flare out and you sniff things. Occasionally, you squeak.” The Angel of Death sat next to me, peering at me curiously. I shook in trepidation, draped in his robe at the corner of his bed.I hadn't managed to string a word together for over an hour. He'd hand-fed me toast and counseled me through hell and high water. One moment I raged, the next I wept like a banshee. Now, I was silent, manically pulling down from the pillow case.“I watched you all night, you know. When you cried out, I sang to you, and you drifted back to sleep. What is it, to ride dreams, I wonder? Your little body, so warm. That it could contain such wonders.” He ran his fingers through my hair, braiding it meticulously. He drew a red ribbon from the air and fixed it at the end. Sam slid his arms over my shoulders, resting his h
It was then I remembered my nightmares. What drove me from my bed and sleep. I sunk into the night with him, to the depths of Samael's mind.Long ago, it happened. A reflection in the hourglass, the lip where sand siphons into the void.He gave me the heart from his breast. His ribs grew into the Tree. It throbbed in his hand like a secret. I took it, terrified.“It is yours,” he whispered. Tears softened his stony eyes. “It always has been. Take it. It will set you free.”“But I don’t want it! All I want is to be with you-”“Eve!” he cried, clasping his hands around mine. They trembled, and that scared me more than the gaping wound on his chest. He had never been afraid. “Please. If you do not, you will die.”“But this is our home-”“You do not belong here.” He p
“Different?” he asked, voice strained.I closed my eyes, running my tongue up his thumb, sucking. I nipped the top. He groaned.“Pyrrhic, you said?” I asked ruefully, dragging my lips up his index finger.“You're teasing me.”“Genius. Your turn-ons are weird.”“Damn your feminine wiles.”“You really like damning things, don't you?”He pulled me down into the snow with him, wrapping his wings around us so I might as well have been on a feather bed in a parka.Schubert's quartet peaked. He spooned me against his chest, arms wrapped round me like a mummy. Samael lay like a corpse for a moment, apparently getting in the zone. I grimaced as he stiffened. He laughed roughly at my unease.“That's just wrong,” I informed him.“Angel lust-”“Don
I crept onwards to the mansion, amazed I hadn't been caught. Then I remembered this was probably like a lobster trap. It looked like a house on the outside, but inside was a cage fitted just for me. And it wasn't like Sam- Sauron needed guards. Only Pallor would have been idiot enough to cross him, provided he was bribed by literature.Yards from the mansion, I questioned why I was here. Skeletons held a ball in the attic. The mansion's stone face was mortared with graves. I stood a yard from the entrance, an intimidating sweeping thing with a portico that bested the White House. Devils and fantastical beasts were carved into its wooden pillars. Wolves swallowed the crenelate. It was like a pipe dream from Hell.The door knocker yawned. It was a brass lion. Lionheart. Again.“Ah, a midnight snack. My master must have had surplus-”I whip
I thought I'd woke from a fever dream. I was back in my room alone, with the sun just creeping past the sill. I nearly danced out of bed, praising the morning for saving me.“What the hell kind of dream was that?” I shuddered. One in which I'd been the reincarnation of Eve, marched like a happy idiot into Hell, and, oh yeah, hooked up with the Reaper.“What the...?” A white scar shone on my breast, under the dark lace of my nightgown. I fell to my knees and gagged.“No,” I whispered. My eyes were catacombs. “No way in hell did I do that!”I frantically scanned my room. There was a rose at the head of my bed, stem charred as if it'd been roasted. It sat like a wicked promise.Revulsion seized me and I ran for the bathroom. I hurled til there was nothing but bile.I didn't leave my room for days. I slept until I c
I slept for a very long time.By the time I awoke, he was bones. They were strewn across the bed. The sunlight had eaten everything. I held his skull in my hands. It looked forlornly at me.“Samael?” I whispered.I'm here.He smiled. Just like he always had.Tears stung my eyes. I could barely form thoughts past my panic. I was angry at him. Sad. “What kind of game are you playing?”It will be alright. Just hold me.“Samael. What- What do I do?”Bring my remains to the river. Anoint me with the waters of life.I gathered his bones in the black sheets, now a shroud. I carried his remains like Ezekiel, knowing the marrow hid life. His room was vast, endless. I would call it a tower if it had any humanity in it. Instead, it was a living thing. At its cente
I witnessed his daily torture. Each morning, Samael fell. His shrieks heralded the rising sun. His plea echoed through the centuries: “Don't make me face this alone.” His beloved brother crushed him. Samael bit his heel like a beast. Michael ripped his glory from him: “Burn,” Michael cursed his twin. Stripped of his thorny crown, Samael fell to the howling sea. The blackness crushed him to it. The dark mother swallowed all, trying to erase his abortion from existence. But he held fast to his hideousness, made weapons from his pain. They sprouted from his rage, pinning the abyss to his bones. He roared “I AM.” The first claim of being. The blackness bowed before him. It recognized its master, the Lightbringer whose shadow it sprang from. He moved inside me like the Holy Ghost. “Do you remember how we fell?” Samael took Go