‘When you remember who you are, yes.’
‘Then I don’t want to remember.’ I say it to spite him and something flickers in his face, too fast for me to catch. But it’s not entirely true—I
do
want to know who I used to be, what I’ve done. But I don’t want to be Gabe. I don’t ever want to be the person who chose the Sanctuary over her brother.
He sighs. ‘Tell me about Jason and these women in Iowa.’
‘Are my friends here safe? My human friends?’
‘They’re safe from us. I can’t speak for the Outcasts or the Gatekeepers. Now, please, can we have an adult conversation?’
I open my mouth, think better of telling him to piss off. ‘Fine.’ I sit at the far end of the couch, leaving plenty of space between us. ‘What do you want to know about first: Jason or the women?’
‘Jason.’
That surprises me. Jason’s existence really is big news for the Rephaim. Bigger even than the iron room. I give him the edited version on Jason, the detailed one on the room.
‘You and Rafael were trapped in there?’ Daniel asks. ‘Just the two of you?’
Unbelievable. After everything I’ve told him, that’s what he’s most interested in. Still.
‘Do you want to see what we found or not?’
He rubs a palm over his jaw, realises what he’s doing and drops his hand. ‘Yes. Please.’
I take out my phone and he moves closer to get a better look. His knee touches mine. There are faint scars on the back of his hands—a reminder that he wasn’t always a politician. And then it hits me: those hands knew my body not so long ago. Is Daniel thinking about that right now? Is that why he’s so obsessed about me being with Rafa? I swallow, suddenly self-conscious. I quickly find the image of the wings and hold it out to him. He takes the phone but doesn’t move away; studies the photo for what feels like a long time. Finally, he frowns.
‘That’s—’
Daniel doesn’t finish because Rafa and Jason materialise in front of us.
I feel like my whole body breathes out. Whatever Rafa’s been up to, he’s safe, though in the second it takes him to get his bearings, he looks washed out, hollow. And Jason looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him. They’ve arrived in the middle of the room, separately, which means they’ve both been here before. I’d put money on Rafa’s other visit not involving an invite. I don’t care: he’s here.
I want to go to them. I’m about to get up when something crosses Rafa’s face. Anger? Jealousy? Daniel is still sitting close to me.
‘I was hoping to go a few more years before I had to see you again,’ Rafa says to Daniel. He doesn’t meet my eyes.
Daniel stays seated; his knee brushes mine again. ‘I see your ability to focus on a task hasn’t improved. You told Nathaniel you’d watch out for Gabriella and yet here she is alone.’
‘I didn’t realise you wanted me by her side every waking moment. She’s going to need a bigger shower.’
Always a pissing contest with these two.
Taya emerges from the kitchen at the sound of Rafa’s voice; Simon hangs back, watches over her shoulder.
‘Did Gaby tell you what we did last night?’ Rafa asks Daniel.
Daniel stays still, but his nostrils flare a little. I catch Rafa’s eye, try to warn him off. I don’t know why Taya hasn’t told Daniel I left Pan Beach, but I’m happy for it to stay that way.
Rafa’s eyebrows go up, mocking. ‘What, he doesn’t know?’
Taya looks ready to tear Rafa’s head off with her bare hands. Rafa follows my gaze. He measures Taya—has a fleeting moment of surprise—and laughs.
‘Ah, Pretty Boy. I’m just messing with you.’
Daniel is many things. Unobservant is not one of them. ‘What happened last night?’
‘The brawl at the bar,’ I say before Taya can answer. ‘Rafa was there.’
Daniel is still focused on Taya. ‘You didn’t think to mention that?’
‘Hey!’ It’s Jason. His eyes are red and his mouth is set in an uncharacteristic hard line. ‘Demons have a way to trap us. Shouldn’t that be the priority right now?’
He looks terrible. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
‘Not even close,’ he says.
Daniel finally registers there’s someone other than Rafa in the room. ‘You. It was you with Rafa in the infirmary on Tuesday, wasn’t it? I didn’t notice it up the mountain, but now—’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters. How many times have you been to the Sanctuary?’
Jason’s laugh is short, bitter. ‘I went to get Gaby back after you let a hellion tear her up. It was my first and last visit. I have no intention of ever going back.’
‘Daniel,’ I say. ‘Let’s talk about Iowa or this conversation is over.’ I stand up, put my hand on Jason’s arm.
Taya says to Rafa, ‘Why don’t we start with how you and Gaby got out of this iron trap.’
‘Jason went to Zak. Zak brought help.’
‘And by help, you mean Mya?’
‘We didn’t ask her to come,’ I say. ‘Up to that point, she thought I was dead.’
Daniel picks a nonexistent piece of fluff from his shirtsleeve. ‘And nobody thought to warn us this room existed?’
‘We’re telling you now,’ Jason snaps. ‘I’m so sick of you people thinking you’re the centre of the universe. Two women died at that farmhouse today, doesn’t that matter to anyone?’
For once, Daniel has no response.
‘It matters to me,’ Jason says. ‘I don’t care how twisted their theology was, nobody deserves to die like that. Certainly not a sixteen-year-old who isn’t old enough to know what she believes. I’m going to see Virginia. I’m leaving in thirty seconds and I could use some back-up. I’ve already called Ez, and that will mean Mya. So, do you want to play man-in-charge, or can you get over yourself long enough to do something useful?’
I’ve never seen—or heard—Jason like this. I glance at Rafa: he’s a little impressed.
Daniel exhales. ‘I need a moment with Taya.’
‘Make it quick.’
Their discussion on the balcony is intense. And too low for me to hear.
Jason watches them. He’s rigid, resolved. It burns him to ask for their help, I can see that, but he asked anyway. I can’t help but feel a stab of admiration for him.
Rafa comes over to me, keeps his back to the others. ‘What did Daniel say to you?’
‘Nothing I haven’t heard before.’ Up close, I can see the strain around Rafa’s eyes. ‘Are you okay?’
He checks on Daniel and Taya, doesn’t answer.
‘Where were you this morning?’
His attention settles back on me. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
A gust of breeze blows through the open door, stirs Rafa’s hair. His closeness is reassuring; I resist the urge to reach for him.
Behind him, Daniel and Taya end their conversation and turn back towards us. I breathe in, deeper this time.
For the first time since Jason’s phone call, I feel close to steady.
YOUR ENEMY’S ENEMY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND
The light is dying when we arrive in the cornfield. It’s colder than before, the darkening sky streaked with clouds. Leaves rustle around us; the papery rasp is unsettling now. Taya freezes ahead of me, draws her sword, then realises what the sound is.
‘Where’s this other house?’ Taya whispers.
‘Next field over,’ Jason says.
Daniel steps between them. ‘I want to see the main house first. The one with the iron room.’
Jason hesitates. Then he leads the way down the cornrow, more cautiously than on our last visit. Before we reach the clearing, he crouches and waves Daniel down beside him. They part the corn stalks to see the house. The rest of us hunker down behind them. The dead crop here is mouldy. I peer over Jason’s shoulder and my skin prickles.
The farmhouse is crawling with Gatekeeper demons. I count a dozen posted around the front entrance and another five on the roof. They’re not hiding. They all have that trademark spindly build and long white hair. From this distance I can’t tell if Bel’s among them.
Daniel takes in the scene without comment and lets the corn leaves slip from his fingers.
We’re halfway back to where we arrived when four figures appear in the cornrow ahead of us in a small cloud of dust: Mya, Ez, Zak and Jones, all armed.
Mya’s face looks drawn, her eyes are bloodshot and she’s still wearing the same clothes as in LA. I don’t know where she was going after the job, but it must have involved a serious bender.
The four of them block the path.
Daniel’s face takes on that infuriatingly calm expression. ‘This situation requires a delicate approach, Mya, not a sledgehammer.’ He keeps his voice low.
I wait for her to tell him about the LA job. But she doesn’t speak at all, just gives him a cold, hard stare.
Daniel takes in the others. ‘Esther, Zachariah, Jonah.’
‘Daniel,’ Ez says.
Jason pushes between them. ‘Let’s keep moving.’
I let everyone walk ahead so I can join Rafa at the back of the line. His eyes roam from one side of the cornrow to the other. ‘Stay close. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’
‘No shit.’
‘I’m serious. Stay within my reach.’
My scalp tightens.
I check the others: they’re all tense. But of course they are—they’re truly vulnerable for the first time.
Ahead of us, Mya’s steps are heavy, stilted. Is she drunk? Her ponytail falls to one side and I glimpse the back of her neck. There’s a tattoo of an ornate Celtic cross where her Rephaite mark should be, the ink faded with age. It starts under her hair and disappears below her jacket. No wonder she wears her hair down so much. She spent most of her life not knowing what she was, but did she really think a tattoo would draw less attention than a crescent-shaped mark?
We find the older house, a weatherboard, where Virginia and her surviving daughter Debra are waiting for us, in a shallow gully, hemmed in by dead corn. The roof is pitched low, sagging. Weeds grow up around the front door. A rusty swing set sits off to one side.
‘Do they know you’re not coming alone?’ I ask Jason.
He nods, not taking his eyes from the house. ‘I’ll go in first. Check they’re still here.’
‘What if it’s a trap?’
‘Then I won’t come out, and you’ll know.’
‘Jason, you don’t have to prove anything.’
He wipes his palms on his pants. ‘Just watch my back, okay?’
Keeping to the shadows, he runs to the front door. The flyscreen screeches when he opens it. He knocks lightly, once, twice. I hold my breath. The door opens almost immediately and Jason steps inside. A few seconds later he materialises back on the porch. No iron trap at least. He waves us over. Ez and Zak take point at one end of the house, Jones the other.
The smell hits me as soon as we’re inside: wet feathers and chicken shit. The house is now a makeshift chook-shed. The wallpaper is flaked, the carpet stained and torn. The women waiting for us in the shadowy room look completely out of place: Virginia has a short grey bob, pale blue eyes and is dressed in a tailored suit as though she’s off to a board meeting. She’s sitting in an armchair covered in stiff plastic, next to a blackened fireplace. Her daughter is beside her, a hand on the chair, barely keeping her feet. Debra is blonde, thirty or so. I feel like I’ve seen her before but I can’t place her. Both stare at us, blank-eyed, torn between fear and grief.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’ Jason speaks quietly, doesn’t move any closer.
But they’re looking past him still, at us. We must be familiar to them from their photo collection but Jason introduces us. They’re silent at our names.
‘What happened, Virginia?’ Jason asks.
She doesn’t reply.
‘How are you two alive?’
Her eyes slowly move to him. ‘The silent alarm went off.’ Her hand twitches. ‘We have a panic button. If it’s hit, we all receive a message.’
‘Has that happened before?’
The plastic on the chair crackles as she shifts, takes hold of her bracelet. ‘Only once: when you brought the unholy offspring here yesterday. When it went off again today we assumed you and your new friends had come back, so we parked at this house and walked over…’ She can’t keep the pain from her eyes now. ‘The devils were everywhere, all over the roof like lice. And what they left in the field…’ She turns her face away.
Debra’s grip tightens on the back of the chair. I feel ill. Where did the demons leave the bodies? Did we pass them? I have a quick, sickening flashback of the nightclub in my dream, of torn bodies soaked in blood.
‘You’re the architect,’ I say to Debra, pushing the feeling away. ‘You designed that place on the hill. And that room.’
Her black patent leather shoes are covered in dust. Her shoulders shudder, either from the cold or shock. Or both.
Virginia repositions herself in her chair, straightens her clothes. She looks at each of us again. ‘You brought weapons?’ Her fingers stray to her necklace: pearls. No pendant.
‘You’ve got a demon infestation,’ Rafa says. ‘We weren’t coming unarmed.’
‘I cannot believe the day has come that I must breathe the same air as filth such as you.’
‘Careful,’ Rafa says.
‘Rafa.’ Jason turns quickly. ‘Show some respect. These women lost family today.’
Virginia’s hand is still on her chest. I scan the charms on the bracelet she’s wearing. One isn’t as shiny as the others: it’s round and flat.
‘That doesn’t change the fact they built a room to trap us,’ Rafa says. ‘Or explain how the pit scum found out about it.’
Virginia glares at him. ‘You tell me. You and that one’—she points a long finger at me—‘were here yesterday, and today we are attacked. You led them here to slaughter our family.’ The finger moves to Jason. ‘You did this.’
‘We didn’t lead anyone here,’ Rafa says. ‘So think harder about how it could have happened.’
He’s so cold. That room really shook him up.
Daniel clears his throat. ‘Please forgive Rafael,’ he says to Virginia and then holds out his hands to show he’s unarmed. ‘On behalf of Nathaniel and the Rephaim of the Sanctuary, I offer you and your family our deepest condolences for your losses today.’
‘I don’t want sympathy from your kind,’ Virginia says. ‘You’re an abomination, every last one of you.’
‘We are not all alike, madam, I assure you. And you have seen the real enemy today: it is not the Rephaim.’ He approaches her slowly, respectfully. He brushes off a dusty kitchen chair, pulls it closer to her and sits down. She moves back in her seat to widen the distance between them. The stiff plastic on her chair crackles again.