Court of Nightfall (The Nightfall Chronicles #1)(34)

As he continued his assault, I dodged to stay out of the way, but was forced to remain on the defensive. I realized quickly I lacked the skill and training to even attempt a counter-move against him.

"If you came straight to find me after waking, where did you get the sword?" I asked, avoiding impalement by the hair on my arms.

"A Nephilim Blade is never far from its master," Zorin said. "You would know more, if you accepted my offer."

He attacked me again and I reached for him. If I could just use my power on him I could end this. But he dashed out of my way, black tendrils billowing behind his wings as he glided through the air.

He was toying with me, like a human taunting a cat with a flashlight.

"You prove no match for me, yet you seek to kill an Angel?" he asked.

"I will train. I will become a Knight Templar like my parents. The strongest Knight the Orders have ever seen."

He swiped at me faster and I didn't dodge in time. It took a moment to feel the pain. To see the fine lines of red swelling with my blood on my arms and legs.

"Your father was the best of them, and not even he could best me," Zorin said. Then he thrust the blade at my throat… and stopped just as the blade teased my flesh.

We both froze. I tried not to breathe lest the movement tip the fragile balance we held.

He held my eyes with his as he kept me at Death's door. "Tell me, who lasted longer against the Angel… me, or your father?"

I was so done playing his games and listening to his insults. "You're the reason he's dead. The reason they're both dead."

At that, his wings fell to his side, along with his sword. "Your father once told me that when he died, he would die for what he believed. And if what he believed in was me, then you are right, I am responsible for their deaths. And I am sorry."

I wanted to stay angry. Stay furious. But I could only stand there and shake, my head too confused, my heart too rattled to know what I was feeling.

Zorin bent down and drew a symbol in the dirt at our feet. He made a narrow X with the top smaller than the bottom. "Wings," he said. Then he drew a line down the middle. "And a sword."

He stood and we both looked down at the symbol. "When you are ready, draw this upon your window in your own blood, either at your home here or at the castle, and I will come and help you, as your parents helped me."

"Why blood?"

His grey eyes darkened. "We are of one blood, you and I. By saving each other we have become a part of each other. Your blood calls to mine as mine does to yours. This symbol focuses that energy."

"What is it?"

"A symbol of trust, created so that Nephilim and Nephilim supporters could safely identify each other. One would draw half this symbol casually, and if the other completed it, you knew they could be trusted." His wings expanded to full height and width, and he caught the wind and flew into the night before I could respond.

The silver tree above me faded away as the forest returned to the familiar. I shivered in the cold as I stood there staring up at the moon. How could I trust him? He'd just attacked me. Hurt me.

I looked down at my cuts, at my clothes, at the light marks on my skin… and I realized, he hadn't really hurt me. The cuts were so superficial they had already healed. The bruises already fading. He'd shown remarkable control.

He hadn't meant to kill me.

But he had meant to show me that he could.





Chapter 15


Your Move


The sounds of the forest came back to me slowly. A night owl hooting in the distance. The scurry of critters who preferred the cover of darkness. Crickets singing their songs to the moon. The noise filtered through my mind as I wandered back to my house in a partial daze.

I could feel my body wearing down, too tired to think anymore about everything that had happened. I hadn't slept much in Jax's room last night, or rather this morning, and it was already burning into the midnight hour yet again. I needed rest. My body and mind and heart needed rest.

I locked up the house and dragged myself up the stairs to the comfort of my own room. I hadn't actually been in here since before everything. Before my vision test, which now meant nothing. Before the battle that took my parents' lives. Before I died.

Before I became something new.

The blue comforter on my twin bed was still crumbled at the foot, my sheets looking slept in. My laundry basket stood in the corner nearly overflowing with dirty clothes. I'd promised my mom I'd do laundry yesterday after my test. A book I'd been reading, a rare print edition about the history of flight, sat open on the dresser next to my bed. My walls were lined with posters of planes. It was all so normal. So everyday.

I stripped off the stranger's clothes I'd borrowed and pulled on my sweats and an old t-shirt. One of Jax's old t-shirts, I realized, the thought almost too much for me.

I considered changing again, but I was too tired and instead sank into my bed, pulled my covers over my head and let the night lull me to sleep.

I slept late and woke to an early afternoon serenade from a bird in the tree by my bedroom window.

After showering and changing into jeans and a t-shirt, I pulled out my suitcase and packed as much as I could, not knowing when I'd be back here again. I'd have to sort out the details of the house eventually. Would I have the money to pay the taxes and keep it maintained, or would I have to sell it? I couldn't imagine selling. Going through my parent's belongings. Getting rid of all traces of their lives. No. I'd find a way to keep it all. At least for now.