The Rephaim: Burn Part 21

It's still there, the memory of that moment. My humiliation. All that rage. But it's like ink in water; it doesn't hold form long enough for me to remember its shape.

'Are we doing this?' His eyes search mine. He can't read me either.

'Any time you're ready.'

He cracks another knuckle. 'You first.'

Nervous energy crackles through me. I step off and we circle each other, more out of habit than intent. The campsite has gone still: everyone's stopped to watch. n.o.body except Jude knows what really happened between Rafa and me, but they all know it was ugly-and they're all curious to see what it means now. Whether it still matters.

n.o.body ribs us for hesitating. n.o.body says a word, not even Jones or Daisy. Too late, I wish we'd had the sense to take this elsewhere. Rafa is urging me to action, dark eyes insistent. I circle closer, shape up with loose fists. He does the same. Adrenaline fires my pulse.

'Come on.' He mouths the words like a lover's whisper.

I rush him with a combination of rapid-fire punches, all aimed head-high. He moves back, blocks them with his palms and forearms, makes no attempt to counter. I aim a roundhouse kick at his shoulder. He ducks underneath, doesn't take the obvious opening for a leg sweep. I alternate with punches and kicks, and we settle into a frenetic exchange-except I realise pretty quickly that I'm the only one attacking.

It's an open invitation to go to town on him. The thing is, I still haven't sorted through the storm that stirs in my chest every time I look at him. I don't know how I feel. I don't even know how I should feel.

But I know I don't want to hurt him.

It's hard not to remember him in the infirmary, helpless, struggling in and out of consciousness. The life leaking out of him. And it's impossible not to remember him clean and bandaged, naked, in my bed. Sweet and tender and still a little broken.

I fall back to regroup and he stalks me, impatient. 'Stop playing safe.'

I flex my fingers, gather myself, attack again. Another combination of jabs, hooks and uppercuts; kicks to his legs. He counters now, but without aggression: elbows, knees, forearms. My strikes are precise, well away from his chest and his stomach. I drive him backwards with a combination of punches, forcing him onto the back foot so I can aim a roundhouse kick at his head. He knows it's coming: it's my trademark move. He blocks and ducks-and then he drops his guard. I see him do it, but it's too late to pull the kick. My runner slams into his jaw. His head snaps back horribly and the impact reverberates through my foot and ankle.

I hop backwards and drop my hands. 'What the f.u.c.k was that?'

He steadies himself and rubs his jaw. 'A good shot.'

'Bulls.h.i.+t.'

Rafa settles back into the stance, hands up. 'Come on. Go again.'

'Forget it. I'm not using you as a punching bag.'

'Don't-'

He doesn't finish because his stomach must dip like mine. We turn to the western side of the camp along with everyone else. My t-s.h.i.+rt is damp around my neck and my pulse still thuds in my throat. Sweat trickles down my spine. It can't be Gatekeepers-not yet-but it could be Daniel or Uri or Callie or- Rusty appears in the s.p.a.ce between the vehicles. He looks spooked. There are two blonde heads with him. Mya and Jess. Was Mya scared to come alone? Jones and Ez are already moving towards them. I wipe my palms on my t-s.h.i.+rt. G.o.d, I need a shower.

I hear Rafa come up behind me. He stands so close I feel his breath on the back of my neck, not quite settled to normal. Heat radiates from him. 'We have to finish this.' Frustration in his voice, and need. I try to concentrate on Mya, try to read the mood of the camp, but my head swims with sandalwood and honey and sweat.

'Does it have to involve fists and elbows?'

'Isn't that what you want?'

I glance over my shoulder at him, at the red mark on his face from my runner. 'No.'

He searches my eyes again and then his gaze flicks past me. 'Hold that thought.'

I look back across the camp to find Jess has grabbed Rusty and pressed a handgun to his temple.

FORGETTING WAS EASY. FORGIVING...NOT SO MUCH 'Get your finger off that trigger. Now,' Ez says to Mick, firm. He and his boys have their rifles trained on Jess.

'That b.i.t.c.h has a gun to my brother's head.'

'And I'll handle it.' Ez stops a few metres from Jess, Rusty and Mya, her arms out to block anyone else from getting involved. 'We're all friends here, right Jess?'

Jess keeps the barrel tight against Rusty's temple. When I last saw the LA detective she was dressed as a nurse-a stripper nurse in red stilettos-leading a group of terrified kids away from the club in LA. Now she's wearing jeans, navy polo s.h.i.+rt and a police-issue holster across her shoulders.

'So we're clear,' Jess says, her voice loud and strong, eyes scanning for threats, 'we're not here for a lynching.' Mya stands rigid at Jess's side, her sword against her leg, sheathed. Her skin is still pale, her blue eyes not quite as iridescent. But at least they're sharper than they were at the bar.

'You're gonna wish for a lynching if you don't drop that piece,' Mick growls. 'Why is she even still conscious?'

'Because she's our ally,' Ez says. 'She's not going to hurt Rusty-he's human, just like she is. And she's been through too much with us. She knows we're not her enemy, right Jess?' she says again.

Jess's attention flicks from Mick to Ez, to the deep scars running from Ez's cheek to her throat. Jess was undercover in the Rhythm Palace when Gatekeepers let h.e.l.l-beasts loose in the club, when Ez was savaged trying to get people out. If it wasn't for Ez and the Outcasts, Jess wouldn't be standing here right now staring them down. And she knows it-her family heritage notwithstanding.

I still can't see any resemblance between Jess and Virginia. She grew up surrounded by zealots, knowing how generations of her family felt about the rebellious half-angel they'd been charged with managing. The abomination. And yet Jess is here, knowing we can disarm her in a heartbeat, trying to protect Mya.

'n.o.body's going to hurt either of you,' I say. 'Unless you keep that gun where it is.'

Jess raises her eyebrows at me, a challenge. 'You speak for the Outcasts now? For Rafa?'

'Yeah,' Rafa says behind me. 'She does.'

'Even though she remembers the bad blood between you?'

A pause. 'Yeah.'

I take a moment to let Rafa's response sink in-for me and everyone else. I snag Mya's gaze. 'Is this really how you want to handle this?'

Mya s.h.i.+fts her weight, clicks her fingernails against each other. She won't make eye contact with Jude and I recognise fear in that avoidance. Not of violence-that she could handle. She's afraid the Outcasts are going to reject her. That Jude is. She runs her tongue over her teeth. 'Let him go.'

Jess keeps the barrel in place for a few more seconds and then lowers her hand. As soon as the pressure is gone, Rusty jerks away from her. 'Who the-' He stops, gets a good look at Jess. 'f.u.c.ken cop.' It's not a question. 'You're lucky my brother didn't put a bullet in you. You better watch yourself, love.'

Jess gives him a flat look, holsters her pistol. 'Noted.' She's faced down demons and h.e.l.lions. A crew of heavily armed roughnecks doesn't faze her. But seeing Mya floundering clearly does. She moves closer until their shoulders touch.

'Oi.' It's Mick, his rifle still trained on Jess. 'If you want us to cover your skinny a.r.s.es, you might want to move 'em inside the perimeter.'

Mya hesitates and then she and Jess come further into the camp. Jude is on my left, Rafa still behind me. Silence settles over the gathering and a light breeze flows down the gully sharp with eucalypt, laced with accusation.

Mya squares her shoulders and lifts her chin, fixes her eyes on Ez. 'You asked for my help. I'm here.'

'Why?' Rafa demands.

'Because this is my family.'

He laughs, harsh. 'I've met your family, Mya. Not a fan.'

'Then you know why I found another one.'

'And you just forgot to mention those crazies in Iowa? Or the fact the lot of you are h.e.l.l-bent on wiping out the rest of us?'

Her eyes flare. 'I never wanted to hurt any of you.'

'So you didn't come to the Sanctuary to rip the place apart?'

'I went to see who was ready to walk away from Nathaniel-and there were plenty of you. I didn't create that rift-'

'No,' Daisy weighs in, 'but you tore it wide open.'

Mya turns on her, explosive. 'You know what, Daisy? I lied to people I care about but you're just as bad with this lie you keep telling yourself that everyone followed me. They didn't follow me, they followed Jude. And you would've gone too if I hadn't been by his side.'

'Jude wasn't the one with the psychotic secret family driving the agenda,' Daisy snaps, her neck flushed.

'They weren't driving that agenda.' Jess steps between them. 'My mother had a fit when the Outcasts broke away from the Sanctuary. That was never the plan.'

Daisy rests her hands on her hips. 'Yeah? Then what was?'

'Mya was supposed to undermine everyone's faith in your precious fallen angel so that when the time came you would all scatter to the ends of the earth-well and truly divided. Creating a renegade group to fight demons for cash was definitely not part of the agenda. Mya did it anyway because-' She pauses to give Mya a side-eye. 'Because she wanted to.'

'Why?' Jude asks.

Mya looks to him, guarded. 'To prove that I was more than a weapon for my family.'

'Is that why you stayed, even after the split?'

'Partly.'

'What was the other part?'

I can't read my brother. He's giving her nothing, no clue of his mood or how he feels about what she's saying. And it's killing her. But she doesn't look away.

'I was born to be an Outcast. It's the only time I've ever felt like I belonged.'

'Then maybe you should've come clean with us a long time ago. Not wait until you were caught out.'

She laughs, bitter. 'It's so easy for you, Jude. Never a foot wrong.'

Guilt slides over his face. 'I was on the wrong foot when I walked away from my sister for you.'

'You didn't do it for me. You did it for yourself.'

A movement to my left. Taya. 'What about that iron trap?'

Mya drags her attention from my brother. 'Jess's sister Louise saw the design in a vision. It took Debra a year to work out how to build a house to accommodate the cell. Two more to construct it and have the walls etched.' A bitter smile. 'I didn't know it worked on anyone but me.'

'They trapped you?'

'How do you think they tested it? Virginia kept me in there for six hours. She was trying to convince me to leave the Outcasts and move back to New York.'

Taya's fingers stray to her damaged hand. 'But your blood breaks the wards.'

'I didn't know that. Eventually Jess told me-shouted it through the door.' Mya glances at the detective. 'I cut myself, smeared the wings, and got the h.e.l.l out. I hadn't set foot back in that place until last week when Rafa and Gabe got themselves stuck the first time.'

'How long ago did you leave?' Ez asks.

A shrug. 'Two years. I didn't speak to anyone except Jess after that. And then the farmhouse was attacked and I wasn't there...' She falters, looks away. Mya wasn't there when Louise and Sophie were butchered in the cornfield after Zarael showed up. She saw Virginia and Debra for the first time in two years in that s.h.i.+tty old farmhouse.

Jones is studying Mya, a slight crease in his brow. 'If your family is so horrendous, why did you rescue Virginia from the Sanctuary?'

'She's still my flesh and blood.' Mya taps the flat of her katana blade against her calf. 'And Nathaniel doesn't get to terrorise her.'

A light breeze shakes the leaves in the banyan tree. For a long moment, n.o.body speaks.

'So this is it then? Nothing I've done in the last decade counts?' Finally, the anger I've been expecting from her.

'You lied to us,' Jude says, his voice flat.

'Yeah, I did. So did you.' She's harder now, surer of herself. 'So what happened last year? Have you and Gabe come clean about that now you've got your memories back?'

My mouth dries a little. We can't dodge this a second time without straight-out lying. 'This isn't about us right now, Mya.'

'Why not?' She's still glaring at Jude. 'You can't sit there judging me if you're keeping secrets.'

Ez faces us. 'You said you didn't remember.' Jude's jaw tightens and she lifts her eyebrows. 'Do you remember?'

Jude and I exchange a long look of frustration and uncertainty and fear of what will happen when it's not our secret anymore.

'f.u.c.k it,' he says. 'Let's put it all out there.'

ALL OF IT.

My pulse spikes. 'All of it?'

Jude nods and points at Mya. 'You're still not off the hook.'

She doesn't react. I catch Rafa watching me. He raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

'Wait for it,' I tell him.

Jude drags fingers through his hair again. 'Last year-' He pauses, scratches the corner of his eye, swallows. Starts again. 'Last year when Bel and Leon attacked us, we were trying to free the Fallen.'

Someone hisses; someone else swears. Everyone stares. Of course they do: we just admitted we did exactly what they've all been accusing us of for the past year.

'You were what?' Daisy demands. 'How? Why?'

I force myself to look around the gathering. At Daisy, Micah, Malachi and Taya. Jones, Seth, Zak and Ez. Mya. I feel their disbelief. Shock. I clear my throat. 'We found out Semyaza's our father.'