Frozen
Present Day
Lakyn stood frozen still, before the ruins of the convent. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was gone, her home. Leaving him wondering was she gone, too? He vowed then and there that he would end Scarlett’s life with his own hands. It was all Scarlett’s fault.
Trembling, he picked his way through the ruins. Everything was gone, only a smoking rubble remaining. The chapel, its wall of stained glass stood preserved. He ran to the chapel, ducking under a collapsed brick arch, and entered. It was miraculous. It must be the wards, he thought. Special magic suffused each piece of consecrated ground, but surprisingly, he could enter now. His boot crunched noisily on a broken piece of glass and she turned. He saw her at the very same time she saw him. Their eyes met.
“Rachael,” he whispered.
“Sorry. You must be confusing me with someone else,” the young woman spoke. Her face was familiar to him, yet different, but she seemed to be much younger in years, than thirty.
“I know you somehow. Your face,” said Lakyn.
“I must have one of those faces,” she said as she turned and walked swiftly out of the chapel. Lakyn experienced a freaky sense of déjà vu. Those were the same words that Rachael had once spoken to him. And this woman was so similar in looks. She must be related, he thought.
“If you’re not Rachael, then you must be related to her.”
“Sorry. I don’t know any Rachael. I have to go.” She started to run but Lakyn grabbed the girl’s sleeve. She gasped and looked into his eyes.
“I think you do know Rachael. You know this place. It was her home.”
“Sorry.” Without warning the girl spun round and delivered a roundhouse kick into Lakyn’s groin. As he crumpled in pain, she ran off.
“Definitely related,” he moaned, holding himself on the ground.
By the time Lakyn had arrived back at the factory, he observed that most of the rubble was now cleared and that a secure entry had been built over the door to the bunker where Lakyn and his army had made their underground home.
“Where have you been, son?” inquired his father as he walked to meet him at the foot of the stairs. The bunker, constructed entirely of steel, was dated to the mid 1900s. The Blackbell Family had constructed the factory above it soon after World War II.
“I had to check on something. But it’s gone.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Lakyn. I had you followed,” Zachariah said to him.
“Why’d you do that?” Lakyn’s injury was now healed. From a refreshment table, he grabbed a glass and poured himself a scotch.
“Because I knew what would be your weakness, the same as was your brother’s. Love ruins everything. It’s the obstacle on the path to the one true goal in life.”
“So that’s all Mum was to you? An obstacle?”
“Yes. And unfortunately, I realised that too late.”
“So, Dyston and I were mistakes?” Lakyn’s rage bubbled inside, rising near to boiling point.
“Of course not. You were all part of a grand scheme.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Lakyn, angrily taking his scotch, retreated into his room, slamming the door behind him.
“Has Simon returned yet?” asked Zachariah of David.
“No,” he replied, adjusting his bandage between sips of his tea.
“I’ll have to send someone to see whether he has retrieved Katherine’s soul.”
“Miss James’s soul has not yet been harvested,” said Abraham, tending to the fire in its place. “And I would know.”
“Then what happened to it?” pursued Zachariah glass halfway to his lips.
“Her soul is still attached to her body.”
“So she isn’t dead?”
“Leave her. She’s not worth it. It’s the Archangel spawn we want. In addition, Miss James’ body is heavily guarded by her boyfriend and the students of Gabriel.”
“Hmm, I feared he would become a problem.”
“Do you want us to deal with him?” asked another young recruit, named Peter.
“No. He is far too skilled with weapons, probably more so than any of us. Leave him. Grief will overcome him soon enough.”
Lakyn twisted a ring on his ring finger continually. The ring had once belonged to Rachael and he had never taken it off. In time, a knock came at the door.
“Go away,” he responded.
“It’s me, Lake.”
“Come in then.” The door opened and Lakyn’s long time friend and confidant David, stepped in.
“What’s going on?” David asked, concerned. “Ever since returning from Daylesford you’ve been, I don’t know… for lack of a better word, a zombie.”
“I’m fine, Dave.”
“I don’t think you are, Lake. Spill.” David sat at the edge of Lakyn’s cot and waited. Lakyn sighed and rolled over to face his friend.
“It’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes, gone.”
“So there’s no trace?”
“Only smouldering ruins. But I saw someone there.”
“Someone at the site?”
“Not only someone, a girl about fifteen. She looked just like Rachael.”
“Hmm, I thought this would be about Rachael.” He paused. “You haven’t gotten over her, have you?”
“I loved her, David.”
“So this girl in the ruins, Was it her?”
“How could it be?” he muttered in confusion. “How could Rachael still be fifteen years old?” He paused, “unless this is her ghost?”
“It’s a relative perhaps. What was she doing?”
“Staring at the star.”
“The star?”
“Yeah, a stained- glass star in the chapel. Every star I see now reminds me of her.”
“You really are a romantic,” David joked, shoving Lakyn. Lakyn shoved him back.
“Shut up. And don’t tell my father,” he laughed, but only half meaning his words.
He and David had always been close. They had grown up and gone through the Academy together. They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and were there when each received his Tasks and gained his Traits. They always had each other’s backs.
Fourteen Years Earlier
“Fix it!”
“I…”
“Fix it!” screamed his boss. It was David’s first week as an apprentice chef in the biggest hotel in the city, and he was over it. He couldn’t see what he was doing wrong, and his boss seemed to have it in for him. He would have preferred an apprenticeship in Lakyn’s family’s business, but with both his parents being chefs, he had to follow in their footsteps—all young Nephilim had to. David obediently picked up the fish dish that apparently hadn’t been cooked properly and returned the fish to the grill. As he watched the white flesh sizzle in the surrounding juices, the kitchen door flung open suddenly, but he assumed it was one of the cooks and didn’t pay much attention. Not until he heard his name spoken and felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Dave, I need your help.” It was Lakyn, and it looked like he had been running.
“Lake, what’s going on? You aren’t supposed to be in here. My boss will have a fit,” said David.
“He’s out there talking to my father, something urgent,” breathed Lakyn, still trying to catch his breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s here!” he burst.
“Who?”
“The girl I told you about. You know, the one I’d been sketching though haven’t seen in six months.”
“How could I forget?” sneered David with sarcasm.
“Please! I need you to make me a Crème Brule. Girls love them.”
“But how do you know this girl actually does? She could be a different kind of girl.”
“She’s in a league of her own,” said Lakyn dreamily. He drifted on a romantic sea whenever he spoke of Rachael, but here reality quickly snapped him back. “Will you do this one thing for me?”
“And what will you
do for me?” David retorted.
“I’ll take you to the factory to try out some of the prototypes.”
Pleased, David smiled. “You have a deal.”
Lakyn’s father was holding a private function to stimulate interest for their family company. Lakyn entered the crowded ballroom.
“Here’s my eldest. Lakyn, come over here and meet these fine people,” said Zachariah, reaching out his hand to present him. He couldn’t disappoint his father.
“Hello,” he said, nodding politely to a middle-aged couple before him. The man with light grey hair and sapphire blue eyes was wearing a top hat, while the woman wore a gold long-sleeved gown and her hair was strawberry blonde.
“Lakyn, this is Joseph and Mary Porter. They have a granddaughter just a little younger than Dyston. And Joseph here is going to be working at the company.”
“That’s nice.” Lakyn was bored. His one concern was elsewhere—finding Rachael for their secret date. His father bragged.
“Lakyn is Head of Design. He’s a brilliant sketch artist, aren’t you, son?”
“I’m not all that good, but apparently, my father likes my work enough to keep me on,” he joked.
“I would love to see the finished products some time,” said Joseph. “I’m fascinated by the weapons you create. They’re pure genius.” Lakyn in honesty believed he wasn’t that great, but he thanked his admirer anyway and excused himself.
Then, as he pushed away, he spotted Rachael through the crowd. She appeared bored, also. This was his cue to rescue her. He snuck up behind her and swooped her away.
“What the…” she cried, startled, as he led her through more doors until they were alone.
“Lakyn, what’s going on?”
“I’m rescuing you,” he told her, acting as if what he did was completely normal. She smiled lovingly.
“Oh, thank you. Honestly, I didn’t know when I would be seeing you again. When I saw my brother’s invitation to this party with your family’s name… I just had to come.” She stepped closer to him. Her dark brown hair shone brightly, as did her silver dress under the lights. It accentuated the white streak in her hair. Lakyn wondered if the streak was dyed or natural.
“Shall we take a walk?”
“I’d love to,” she smiled and hooked her arm through his as he led her down the corridor.
Chapter Twenty-Two