Page 3

3. Built to Fight

Kerry

When I was sure Gemma was all right again, I drifted away from the class. I needed a break. I couldn’t torture or destroy what bothered her, and that tested the hold I had on my temper.

A big glass case full of whizzing colors caught my eye, so I wandered over to it and saw about a dozen little birds flitting around inside.

They weren’t real. Gold lines ran through their shiny bodies and bright wings. They looked like ornaments that had been brought to life. They musta been tweeting or whatever birds did because their beaks opened and closed, but the glass was too thick or soundproofed or something because I couldn’t hear them at all. Watching them, I wondered if an artificer had created them.

Looking at the little sign posted next to the case, I made out a few words before Gemma came over. Her expression made me scan the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?” Her voice was as soft as the hand she laid against my cheek.

“Oh.” I exited attack mode and took her hand in mine. “I’m good. What are these things? So far, I made out the word birds , which I can see for myself, call , and all . I think this word is keep and maybe this one is times ?”

“You’re right. It says, ‘Alarm Birds. Caution! Keep in a soundproofed environment at all times. Their klaxon call is deafening.’ Wow. Someone screwed that up.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Pretty, though. The gold with the jewel colors like that.”

“I think so, too.” She led me back to the main group where Gigi and Chessie waited. “It’s called cloisonne.”

About half an hour later, Ms. Chapman led us to a giant stone door with tons of Angelic sigilla carved into it. Holy power slammed into me like heat from a blast furnace, trying to scorch the taint inside me, and I stayed back about twenty feet. Even at that distance, I would’ve been driven to my knees without the grace.

“This is the Vault.” Like Ms. Chapman had to say it. Only an idiot wouldn’t have guessed that. “The stone door leads to a bronze one, which leads to a steel one, which leads to an adamantine one. Each door has its own set of wards. To enter all four doors, one must have the keys, receive the Keeper’s permission and, of course, be of Divine heritage.”

When the stone door opened and someone walked out, I half-smiled. I knew those bushy white eyebrows.

Clemency Greenaway stopped to look at us, a long wood box under one arm.

“Are you removing property from the Vault?” Ms. Chapman’s thin lips pinched together, which usually meant detention.

“Of course not, Helene. What kind of fool would do that? I was comparing the marks on this piece to one already in there.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done something strictly prohibited for your own purposes.” Ms. Chapman crossed her arms. “For example, I distinctly recall your experiments with doppelganger potions in the 1970s.”

“It was the 70s, Helene.” Clem smirked. “Everyone was experimenting with something. Well, look at the time! I must go. Have fun with the children. Oh, and I’d keep Harker away from the Norse hall if I were you. He’s too much a berserker for Hrothgar’s men to resist.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it!” she snapped. “Away with you!”

Before he walked away, he grinned at me. I scowled back.

Ms. Chapman went on explaining the rules for visiting The Vault, but I tuned out.

I know I’m too dangerous to be around people. Why does he have to point it out in front of everyone? Is he reminding me of what I am? Like, ‘Don’t get too comfortable, kid. You could turn tiger at any second.’ Like I don’t know that already!

When Gemma squeezed my hand, I squeezed back to let her know I was okay, but didn’t wanna talk.

“As you can see, the Vault is—” A loud bell interrupted Ms. Chapman, and she switched gears in a heartbeat. “Stay calm and stay together. An artifact has escaped its confinement. Curators will arrive momentarily. Let us move closer to the wall so as to be out of their way.”

I herded the girls against the wall and got in front of them, but stayed away from everyone else. My adrenaline spiked and the last thing I needed was to prove Clem right by panicking if someone bumped into me.

“Where are those curators?” Ms. Chapman stood in front of us like a mother hen and tapped her foot. “Their response time is usually much quicker.”

Then demon stink went up my nose and down my throat like slime. I wanted to gag or spit, but it wouldn’t do any good even if I did.

“We can’t wait, Ms. Chapman.” I met her eyes and jerked my head toward the far end of the hall. “Whatever it is, it’s coming. Fast.”

She gave me a quick nod and moved to the center of the hallway, and I frowned. She was a naturalist. There were no plants or water or earth to call on down here. What did she think she could do to defend us?

“Class, you will vacate the Repository immediately.” She shook out her wrists and hands. “Proceed down this hall and make a left at the first intersection. Pass four halls until you reach the rotunda. Open the door marked emergency exit and go through it. Then contact your wardens.”

Most of the other kids ran, but I couldn’t leave her here alone. I swung around and met Gemma’s eyes.

“You three go with the others.”

“No.” Gemma shook her head. “I’ll stay with you.”

I could hear claws scrabbling in the distance and knew we were almost out of time.

“You can’t help her, angel, and I can. Go!”

I’m built to fight. I need to fight. And I can’t do that so well if I’m distracted because I’m worrying about your safety.

I tried to tell her all that with my eyes, and she must have understood. She joined hands with Gigi and Chessie and they took off in one direction right as thunderous footfalls pounded toward us from the other. It sounded like the enemy was big or heavy or both.

Good!

Adrenaline surged through me. This would be a sweet fight, and that was the only thing I missed about my old life.

“You go, too, Harker,” Ms. Chapman ordered.

“You leaving?”

“Of course not.” She stood straighter. “I will stay until a curator arrives.”

“Then I think I better stay, too.”

“Harker—”

“I ain’t a kid, Ms. Chapman, and I ain’t gonna let it hurt you.”

Then it was too late to argue. A gargoyle skidded around the corner, its claws sliding on the tile and a long black tongue rolling out of its grinning mouth. I’d seen a couple live ones before, but only little bitty ones, most with wings. This monster was kinda shaped like a bulldog right down to its stub of a tail, but stood at least three feet tall on its four legs and musta weighed hundreds of pounds, maybe even a thousand.

As it ran straight at us, Ms. Chapman shot a lightning bolt that broke a chip off of its shoulder. She tried a fire rocket next, but the gargoyle didn’t so much as flinch when it hit. She had time for one more shot - another lightning bolt that knocked the tip off one of its ears - before it sprang at her.

My turn!

Burning blue as I launched forward, I tackled it mid-air and managed to carry it across the hall. The wall shuddered when we plowed through it and plaster fell all around us. I manifested a pickaxe with a diamond-tipped head and hammered away. I probably got in a good dozen or so hits before the gargoyle crawled out of the hole we’d made in the wall.

Let’s see how indestructible you are.

I fell into a smooth rhythm of strike-and-dodge and targeted the back of its neck and the base of its throat, figuring I could hack my way through and eventually behead the thing.

“Ms. Chapman, can you freeze it?” I called over my shoulder. “I could do damage faster if you held it still.”

“No, don’t damage it anymore!” shouted a man’s voice I didn’t recognize. “It’s thousands of years old!”

“Then what do you want me to do with it?”

“I’m working on it! Keep it busy for a few more seconds.”

I glanced over to see who thought they could order me around in a fight, and it cost me. Rearing onto its back legs, the gargoyle feinted with one paw, lashed out with the other, and sudden fire tore along my chest and ribcage.

Spiking up, I tossed the pickaxe, dove onto the gargoyle’s back like a rodeo rider, and rammed a fist into the crater I’d made at the base of its skull.

“You might as well forget it now, Anthony. Harker’s going to destroy it.”

Before I could shoot a missile into the gargoyle’s spine, one of those red flask things shattered against its side. I didn’t want to know what it would do to me, so I leapt off and skipped back. The gargoyle began to freeze, but still tried another swipe at me. It was like watching a movie in slow motion as it returned to stone, its clawed paw still reaching for me, the talons stretching out.

“You don’t need to kill an enemy to defeat it!” screeched the curator Ms. Chapman had called Anthony. “The Keeper is not going to be happy! Not at all! I can’t believe you were actually going to destroy an ancient relic to save one lousy nephilim! You stupid boy, her life isn’t worth—”

And I moved . Towering over the fussy man, I leaned down until my nose was an inch away from his.

“Shut. Your. Mouth.”

The curator whimpered and his eyes bugged out. To stop myself from choking the life outta him, I clenched my teeth and my fists and stepped back. Clem was right. I was too dangerous to be around people. And this time, there was no Gemma to calm me, no Gigi to teleport me, and no Jax to make me safe.

I was on my own.

Deep breaths and move away. Move away now . Good. Try another step. And one more. Okay. Whoa, start breathing again. Slow and deep. Don’t pant. Focus! You can do this. Control the tiger. Control the tiger!

I clunked my fists and forehead against the wall. My heart beat with the need to kill something. I could start with that squealing little man who’d looked at me like I was dirt—

I shook as I pulled myself back from the edge. I tried to ease the tension from my shoulders by stretching, but that pulled my wounds so they burned and the pain fueled my temper. From the way my skin was sticking to my shredded shirt, I knew I was bleeding good.

Aw, Gemma can fix me up. She’s gonna be mad, though. Well, she never really gets mad. Upset, then. She’ll cry when she sees this. I could go to the clinic to another healer, but she’d be even more upset if she found out. She’d think I don’t trust her or something. At least she lets me hold her when she cries. That almost makes up for making her cry in the first place.

Finally, I could drop the spikes. I sank to one knee and bowed my head and panted for a different reason now. Hollow after the rush and exhausted from holding myself back, I was shutting down.

“Are you with us, Kerry?”

I cut my eyes over to see Hank hunkered a few feet away.

“Hey.”

“You okay, kiddo?”

“That guy gone?”

“Who? Anthony? Yeah, he’s gone.”

“That’s good,” I rumbled. “Yeah. Real good.”

“John’s here. He came to teleport you to the cottage.”

John? My brain took a minute to process. Oh, yeah. Morgen. A friendly. Gemma says we don’t kill friendlies.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” I mumbled.

“It’ll be quick, and I can hold your sleeve or whatever,” John said. “I don’t need skin contact to ’port you.”

“Let’s try it.” I stood and held out one arm.

“Got you good, didn’t he?” John said.

“Nah.” My eyelids started to go down. “Just a little bitty scratch.”

“Hank, I’ll drop him at the cottage, then get Gemma.”

“Gemma?” That perked me up a bit.

“Better go. He’s almost out.” Hank sounded like he was laughing.

John grabbed my shirt and I fell into the dark, conscious only of landing on my bed. I sighed, curled into my pillow, and might have heard John chuckle before my brain called it quits.

#

“What do you mean, he wanted to have Kerry suspended from school?!” Gemma’s shriek woke me up quick.

“Wass wrong?”

I slit my eyes open enough to see her standing next to my bed.

“Shh.” She brushed my hair back from my forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

She started humming, and that was all it took.

#

Kerry

I slept through the rest of the day and woke up the next afternoon when Hank brought in a tray of sandwiches and chocolate milk. I propped myself up on a mound of pillows and he sat on the end of the bed as we ate.

“Did I get suspended?” I asked.

“Of course not.” He snorted and reached for a second sandwich. “Anthony was reprimanded by the Keeper for putting his precious gargoyle’s existence above the lives of two nephilim. He can’t help it. He’s been a curator for a couple of centuries now. The Repository is his life. I suppose we all grow obsessed with something at some point in our lives.”

“Is Ms. Chapman okay?”

“Of course. Thanks to you. She would have died if you had left with the rest of your class. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “She knew it, too, but she stayed to fight. Some of the other students talk bad about her because she’s strict, but she treats me like I’m normal. And she’s got guts. I couldn’t let her die. Not when I could do something about it.”

After we finished and he left with the tray, I called Gemma. She was at work, so we couldn’t talk long, and I told her I’d pick her up when her shift ended. Feeling at a loose end after I hung up, I showered and shaved and changed into clean clothes. I was trying to tame my hair when someone knocked on the front door. I heard Hank open it, then the murmur of voices. Throwing the comb onto my dresser, I went to see who it was.

Ms. Chapman sat on the loveseat with Hank opposite her in the chair.

“Hello, Ms. Chapman,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you yesterday when you told me to go. I ain’t mad if you need to give me detention or something.”

“Why would I do that?” She frowned and folded her hands in.

“I dunno. I disobeyed you. That curator wanted to suspend me.”

Anger, sharp and familiar, stirred in my chest.

“You saved my life, Harker. I cannot punish you for that.” She shook her head. “No, I’m to thank you, nothing more and nothing less. If you’d come to school today, I would have done so after class. However, since you saw fit to skip, I was forced to come to you.”

“I was too tired for school.”

“Were your injuries so great as to exhaust you? Surely Ms. Shepherd rushed down here to heal you yesterday.”

“I lost my temper. When that motherf—” I caught myself. “Uh, when that idiot said what he did. It took everything I had to keep from killing him. It always wears me out, holding back like that.”

She looked at Hank and his head dipped in a quick nod.

“Harker, thank you for saving my life,” she said. “And also for not killing Anthony. I wish to present you with a token of my gratitude.”

I cut my eyes down to Hank’s.

“Like a reward,” he said.

“I don’t need a reward for doing the right thing.”

“I pay my debts, Harker,” she snapped. “And it’s a small gift, not an A in my class.”

I understood about debts, all right, and wanting to pay them quick. Owing someone could turn into a real ball-buster. Who knew what favor somebody would ask to square up? A debt was a link in a chain that almost always led to a trap.

She reached into her handbag and took out a small box, then laid it on her palm and held out her hand. I kept my eyes on hers as I picked it up, then retreated behind Hank’s chair to open it. Inside was a round tin full of a thick yellow goo that smelled like the Christmas trees at the back of my cottage.

“The Balm of Gilead, Harker.”

“You’re sure you wanna give this to me?” I asked, and she nodded. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I expect you to be in school tomorrow, Harker, and prepared to research an artifact from the Repository.” She stood. “I’ll see myself out. Good day to you both.”

After she left, Hank asked me about my artifact for the research project.

“I dunno. We were supposed to pick one while we were there.” I snorted. Of course she wouldn’t let us off the assignment because of a little thing like a gargoyle attack. “I did see these funny metal birds. The sign said they were called alarm birds or something. They’ll work, right?”

“Yes. I know what you’re talking about. Let’s start on it before you meet Gemma.”

“Sure.” I held the tin up between my thumb and index finger. “I never heard of this stuff. What’s it do?”

“Heal anything. You can be on death’s door and it’ll bring you back in an instant. Some call it a miracle in a jar.” He stood and stretched. “Save it for an emergency, kiddo. It’s a precious prize. The few who make it can ask the earth for it.”

“Got it.” I put the lid on it, laid it back in the box, and slipped it into my pocket. “By the way, what was she asking you? When she looked at you and you nodded?”

“I wondered if you caught that. She wanted to confirm what you were saying was true.”

“You mean, if I would kill someone when I lose my temper?” I was disappointed. I’d hoped for better from Ms. Chapman.

“No, kiddo.” He smiled. “If you can stop from killing someone when you lose your temper. You’ve had others to help you the past few months. Yesterday was the first time you pulled yourself back from the brink completely on your own.”

I rolled my shoulders, uncomfortable with being reminded how close I’d been to killing someone who pissed me off.

“You should be proud of how far you’ve come. I am, and so is Ms. Chapman.”

They’re proud of me? I shook my head, too jolted to speak. What idiots. There’s nothing to be proud of about a killer.