Hear the Crickets Read online

  “Okay, seriously. What is your fixation with my wings? You have a problem with them or something?” I asked, spreading them out wide so she could get the full visual.

  I took a sudden step in her direction.

  “I’m not fixated,” she sneered, standing quickly to face me.

  “Then what is it? Wing envy? Is that what’s going on? You keep insulting me because you’re jealous?” I beat my wings once, sending papers from my desk flying off in all directions in a whirlwind of dust and dried paint.

  “Envious of you? Please.” Lillith threw her shoulders back and met me toe-to-toe, matching my glare.

  “Ladies. Do you mind?” Dorian interjected, stepping between us. “You two feel free to kill each other when this is all said and done. But for now, we have bigger issues to deal with.”

  Lillith gave Dorian a sharp glance, one that conveyed far more information than just annoyance. I wondered what they were mentally arguing about.

  In fact, I became more and more confused as the moments passed.

  One minute, I was minding my own business—far away from the prying eyes of society—and the next I was being attacked by superhuman combatants. The duo that had come to my rescue claimed to be the children of Nephilim and they were trying to convince me I was the descendent of Watchers.

  I scrutinized my unannounced visitors. Lillith clearly had a problem with me. She was stand-offish and cold. I’d even go so far as to say she was a bitch. But visually, she was nearly perfect. Her skin was like porcelain, smooth and milky in color. Her platinum hair was in a short pixie cut, and her lips were perfectly painted with the brightest shade of crimson I’d ever seen, causing her skin to look even paler than it was. The color of her eyes were nearly black, almost as if her corneas and pupils blended together, and her eye makeup was dark and dramatic. Her entire look was fearsome, yet beautiful.

  It was too bad her personality canceled out her looks.

  My scrutiny then fell on Dorian. He was attractive. Too much so, in fact. I hadn’t had much experience with men during my long life, with the exception of Sean and a few others who’d helped to keep my identity a secret over the years. And I’d found a few of them, like Sean, fascinating and intelligent. But over the past three centuries, I’d never been remotely attracted to anyone.

  His ice-blue eyes were nearly clear and were the perfect contrast to his long, jet-black eyelashes. He, too, was somewhat pale like his sister. But the color of the freckles lining his cheekbones matched the wavy, strawberry blonde hair that fell perfectly down his forehead. As different as they looked from one another, it was clear, when looking at them side-by-side, that they were related, since they had the same shape of nose and cheekbones.

  I had a lot to process. I turned and walked away, stopping in front of the painting propped against the back wall. The skeletons littering the canvas seemed ominous under the circumstances.

  I turned to speak and caught Dorian’s gaze. His lips curved up to one side as if he was amused by my presence. My stomach rolled unexpectedly and quickly moved to my chest, tightening as it restricted my breathing. I tried to draw in some air, but it felt as though someone was sitting on my chest. I cleared my throat and coughed as I tried to cover my awkwardness.

  My thoughts raced. I wondered if what I was feeling was normal—if that was the same way mortals reacted when they found themselves attracted to someone. I told myself I’d need to check with Sean later to gain some insight on human emotion.

  My heart fluttered wildly, my pulse racing. Something about Dorian excited me but also frightened me. I suddenly realized I’d been staring at him the entire time and quickly looked away.

  Get a grip, I said to myself.

  “She does realize we can hear her thoughts, doesn’t she?” I heard Lillith say from inside my head.

  I glanced in her direction as she lay back down on the bench. Her face was smug as she bent her knees and slid her feet in close to her rear.

  “Shit,” I said under my breath, closing my eyes briefly with embarrassment.

  Dorian chuckled quietly. I glanced up just in time to see him trying to hide a smile.

  Sean, clearly frustrated with the lack of verbal conversation, finally threw his arms in the air and stormed off to join Lillith on the bench. She didn’t seem pleased at the idea of sharing her resting place and set her feet on the ground on either side to make room for my human’s rear end.

  “What’s that?” Dorian suddenly appeared to become distracted and pointed at the painting behind me. “What is that?” His lips were moving this time.

  “It’s nothing,” I said, wanting to get back on track. “You mentioned my mother. What do you know about her?”

  “In a minute,” he said hastily, putting up a finger to halt my questioning. “That painting. Seriously. What is it? Where have you seen that before?” Dorian rushed over to my latest work leaning against the wall.

  Intrigued herself, Lillith quickly stood and made her way to her brother’s side.

  “It just came to me. Stuff comes to me all the time,” I replied matter-of-factly.

  Lillith made a grand gesture toward the canvas. “But these are the bones of angels. You said you didn’t know anything about your past, but yet you painted the bones of angels,” said Lillith with derision.

  I tried to shrug off her snarky comment.

  “Makes logical sense to me. I have wings, so why wouldn’t I paint skeletons that had them?” I knew that wasn’t the reason, but I wasn’t about to let them know about my visions.

  “Why do you have the word fallen written all over it?” Dorian asked.

  I carefully inspected my canvas, my stare darting from edge to edge. I’m not sure what he was looking at, but I knew damn well I hadn’t written anything on my painting.

  “There aren’t any words on it,” I said with disdain.

  “Sure there are.” Dorian guided his finger around my artwork. “It’s written here, and here, and here...”

  I leaned in closer and examined the areas he pointed out. I saw nothing but a series of squiggly lines surrounded by other squiggly lines.

  “I don’t see anything. Are you sure we’re looking at the same thing?” I asked.

  Lillith grew restless and let out a loud sigh.

  “Don’t bother, Dorian. She’s an idiot.”

  I felt the anger rising in my chest. There were numerous things I could deal with, but being called stupid wasn’t one of them. My face grew hot and my feathers fanned out, quivering with resentment. My chest rose and fell heavily as I tried to keep my ire in check.

  “Don’t call me an idiot,” I snapped.

  “It’s not my fault if you can’t see past the nose on your own face. I counted. You’ve written the word fallen a hundred and ninety-eight times on your own painting, and you act like you have no clue whatsoever. By my definition, that makes you an idiot.” Lillith folded her arms across her chest like a pouting child, her black eyes squinting over at me.

  “What exactly is your problem with me?” I asked.

  “I don’t have a problem with you,” she said. “I just don’t think you’re as phenomenal as everyone thinks you are. So you have wings—big deal. I don’t think that means a damn thing.”

  “Lillith!” Dorian barked. “Just stop.”

  “What?” Lillith tried to act innocent, placing her hand on her chest.

  “Stop it. You and I both know she’s the one.”

  “They’re just wings,” she muttered to herself as she tossed her hands in the air and walked away.

  “Wait. I’m the what?” I asked.

  “Look. We’ve dumped a lot of information on you in a short period of time. I think we need to take a step back for a minute. How ’bout we go get some air?”

  I was hesitant to go with him. My guard was still up. They both appeared trustworthy—to a point—but looks could be deceiving. What did I know about them, really?

  Against my better judgment, I allowed Dorian to
lead me out my studio door.

  “Where you going?” Sean barked suddenly.

  I stopped and turned to face him as he marched toward me.

  “Stay here with Lillith, okay?”

  Sean froze, and his face contorted as if I’d just punched him in the face.

  “But…” he began, leaning in close, “you can’t leave me here with her.” Sean gave Lillith a sideways glance. “There’s something off about that chick.”

  I playfully slapped Sean’s cheek a few times and whispered, “You’ll get over it.”

  I turned and stepped out into the daylight, allowing the door to slam shut behind me.

  Dorian was standing outside waiting on me. Other Hybrids had already arrived on the scene. Some were dragging the dead into a pile, their limp bodies draped over one another, blood pooling around them on the ground. Others were collecting the weapons of the fallen enemy, most likely to be redistributed amongst their own.

  A dark-haired woman grabbed a gas can sitting next to my studio door and poured its contents all over the pile of dead adversaries. She was careful to ensure the bodies were completely soaked with the accelerant. Then, one of the others pulled a matchbook out of his pocket and lit it using the side of his face, tossing it onto the bodies.

  The flames ignited instantly, the heat could be felt from a distance, burning hot. I watched as the bodies began to char, shooting dark smoke spiraling into the sky. The sight of burning bodies disgusted me, but I found myself intrigued at the same time. The fire licked high into the air and began to glow a magnificent green color.

  “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Dorian asked, seeing the look of awe on my face.

  “Why does it do that?”

  “The body chemistry of a Hybrid is different than that of a human. When our bodies burn, it destroys any trace that we ever existed. It’s a kind of self-destruct mechanism we each carry inside so that we’re not accidentally discovered by mortals. That’s why it burns like that. The greenish color is a reaction to our body chemistry.”

  I stared at the flames. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “In a completely morbid kind of way.” I turned and smiled at him.

  He smiled back. “It is.”

  I began to feel more comfortable around him, even though I knew nothing about him. He was still a stranger to me.

  And yet, he seemed familiar somehow.

  “You said something earlier about someone sending his cronies after me. Just who is after me?” I asked. “And why?”

  He motioned with a tilt of his head. “Let’s walk.”

  I joined him, and we followed the path leading to the hills located on the rear of my property. The grass below our feet had been worn down to the dirt through years of constant strolls. While my wings were convenient and allowed me to travel long distances when necessary, I preferred to walk whenever possible.

  Walking made me feel normal.

  We ambled silently for a while, side-by-side. The bottom of my wings drug slightly on the ground, leaving a faint trail of slight grooves in the dirt below. I glimpsed Dorian catching a quick sideways glance at my feathers. I knew he no doubt had questions.

  But so did I.

  “What do you know about your past?” he asked, shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets. “You mentioned your mom before. Do you know who she was?”

  I shrugged. “Not really sure. She gave me up when I was pretty young, so I don’t remember much.”

  “What about her name?”

  “Couldn’t tell ya,” I said. I tried to remember what she looked like. I did that a lot. As time ticked by, I found myself remembering fewer and fewer details about her appearance. Though I wasn’t able to remember exactly who she was, I did recall a few things. “We traveled a lot and never stayed in one place for long. Spain, France, England. Eventually, we ended up in Ireland. She left me with the sisters a few months later. She pinned a piece of paper to my jacket that referenced a chapter in Genesis and put this neck—” My hand reached up for the pendant that was no longer there.

  I was still in shock over the manifestation of the sword out of my mother’s necklace. The fact that I had a large set of wings attached to my back should have overshadowed any other odd occurrences in my life. But watching a piece of jewelry turn into a sword was something even I couldn’t wrap my head around.

  “The sword. Where did it come from?” I asked.

  “No idea,” he said. “To be honest, I’ve never seen that before. I mean, I’ve seen some pretty interesting things over the past hundred years, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like that. That’s a new one, even for me.”

  I nodded, completely confounded by my day thus far.

  “What did it look like before it changed? The necklace.”

  “It was a key. Nothing special about it, really. It had the same symbols that are on the hilt of the sword. My mother placed it around my neck just before she knocked on the door at the abbey—before she vanished.”

  “Vanished?”

  “Yeah. She slid it over my neck, held the key to my heart, and told me that I was her little miracle. Then she rammed the heavy iron knocker into the door, kissed me on the cheek, and then literally vanished.” I popped my fingers out in front of me. “Poof, she was gone.”

  Dorian nodded to himself, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. “We always wondered if that’s what happened.”

  “If what happened?” I asked.

  “She was a Hybrid. That’s what happens when you reach a hundred and twenty years old. You simply vanish.”

  My mind tried to grasp all of the information it had gathered so far.

  “So, you don’t die?”

  “We cease to be, at least on this plain of existence. No one really knows what happens to Hybrids once we vanish, or where we go if we’re killed before our time.”

  “Heaven?” I asked optimistically.

  “Maybe,” he replied, shrugging. “But we’re not certain.”

  “So you go through this life—with a purpose—and you have nothing of certainty to look forward to near the end? That doesn’t seem very fair, especially after what’s expected of you during your time on Earth.” I kicked a rock with my toe as we continued up the trail.

  “Life is all about having faith in something. So that’s what we do. We live each day to its fullest. We do what we’re meant to do. We fight the enemy. And we face our end with the faith that it’ll all be rewarded.”

  Dorian grew silent. Neither of us spoke for the next few minutes. Discussing death, and what comes after, wasn’t something either of us was comfortable talking about.

  As we strolled along, I suddenly realized that there was an obvious question I’d neglected to ask before. “How old are you?”

  “I’m a hundred and nineteen.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and ran his fingers through his wavy hair, deep in thought. “When a Hybrid turns sixteen, they develop their abilities. Usually it comes as quite a shock. Most of us have no idea of our lineage until then. We begin to hear the other Hybrids, like hearing voices inside our heads. We jump higher, hit harder. And we stop aging. Sixteen forever, which is actually pretty cool. Well, unless you’re someone like Gracen O’Malley, who’s doomed to live over a hundred years with a face full of acne. Anyway, some of us develop other gifts as time goes on. Mine’s the gift of sight. I’m able to see the future—what will be. Lillith has the ability to hear the thoughts of mortals. Believe it or not, it comes in handy sometimes.”

  I listened carefully to his words as we slowly hiked up the path.

  “You’re a hundred and nineteen years old?” I asked.

  He nodded, already anticipating my next question. “And yes. I’m almost a buck-twenty.”

  “So, you’re going to...”

  “Vanish? Cease to be?” He gently touched my shoulder as we came to a stop. “I reach the limit for a Hybrid soon. Lillith, too. We’re twins. But we’re okay with it. We’ve both had a long time to adjust to the idea of our deat
h, or whatever it is that happens to us.”

  I paused.

  “Even so, you’re lucky.”

  “Lucky?”

  “Let me put it to you this way. If you and Lillith had never shown up, it probably wouldn’t have mattered.”

  Dorian squinted at me. His eyes silently asked me what I’d meant.

  “I can’t die. At least I haven’t so far. Stabbed. Fallen. Drowned. Still here.”

  “You can’t die.” Dorian turned away for a moment and again ran his fingers through his hair. I watched his shoulders slump as he turned back around to face me. “That would make you immortal. But that isn’t a thing. I mean, I get that you’re still alive after three hundred years, but only the angels are immortal. You’re not an angel.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know.” Dorian again ran his fingers through his hair, an odd look on his face.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Dorian stared into my eyes. He finally looked down at his feet, turned, and continued strolling back up the trail. I watched him and wondered what he was hiding.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I shouted.

  Dorian didn’t stop. His posture was rigid and unrelenting as he continued to place one foot in front of the other on the trail.

  I didn’t like being ignored. I leapt into the air and spread my wings, catching some air. They flapped once, and I landed directly in my companion’s path, blocking him from continuing on any farther.

  He froze as I stared him down, and his weight shifted as I did my best to make him uncomfortable. He glanced upward. I watched him for a moment and waited for him to speak. Then, he cleared his throat and allowed his gaze to settle back on me.

  “It’s time you found out where you came from.”

  Chapter 5

  “Your mother’s name was Keelin. She was born to the Makgill clan and was the guardian of something called The Spear of Azazel.”

  His words caught me off guard. How did he know so much about her? Up until that point, he’d been acting as if he didn’t know anything about my mother. Yet he knew far more than I did.