Hear the Crickets Page 6

  If he was able to keep something that big from me, what else was he hiding?

  “I’m not hiding anything from you,” he said. I was startled at his words. He pointed to his head reminding me that he could hear what I was thinking.

  That only made me angrier.

  Dorian continued to follow the path, not interested in the protests or obscenities I was shouting at him loudly from inside my head. I reluctantly trudged on to catch up.

  We reached the top of the hill. Dorian’s gaze grew distant as he stared at the view around us. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully and sighed. After a few moments, he continued.

  “All Hybrids know her story. It’s been passed down through the generations, told to new Hybrids as they become aware of their destiny. Your mother is a legend, even though we aren’t sure exactly when she lived. They say that on the day of her sixteenth birthday, a stranger fell from the sky and presented her with a spear, saying it held great power. That if it fell into the wrong hands, it had the ability to raise Azazel’s fallen friends and end the world. Someone witnessed the interaction between Keelin and the stranger and ran off and told the head of her clan. Her people feared her after that, and she was banished from their lands. She soon realized that because of the spear she became a target for Azazel’s cronies, so she hid it. To this day, no one knows where she hid it, and we’re probably better off. If that thing was found, who knows what kind of catastrophic event it would trigger?

  “Anyway, she wandered around for years, and because of who she was, she was hunted more than the other Hybrids. But your mother, she was special. She had the ability to hide in plain sight. Her gift allowed her to become invisible to those who clearly wished her harm. If someone tried to attack her, her guard would go up, and she would disappear from view. Some thought she was a coward, but I think it was a brilliant gift. The ability to survive without ever needing to fight. Besides, who knows what would have happened to her if she’d ever been caught. She wasn’t a fighter, and it was her job to keep the spear hidden. So, it was better that she stayed out of view and hidden from Azazel’s people.”

  “What about my father? Who was he?” I asked. I was absolutely entranced at Dorian’s complete revelation about my heritage. How did he know so much about me and where I came from?

  “No one knows actually. It’s been said that he’s just some guy she met in a small village and fell in love with. But it sounds like he was nothing but a smooth-talking wanderer who probably said all the right things to a lonely woman who’d spent her entire life in self-imposed isolation. Like mother, like daughter, I guess.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I barked.

  Dorian threw up his hands. “Whoa, whoa. I just meant that you live this solitary lifestyle up in these hills, all alone, hiding from society. I don’t know how you don’t go crazy.”

  “I’m not completely alone.”

  “You have that Sean guy, I guess. A mortal, which is weird. Hybrids don’t typically associate with mortals.”

  “Well, I’m not a typical anything. And you said it yourself; I might not be a Hybrid.”

  Dorian stared at his feet for a moment.

  “Anyway, your dad bailed the moment your mother told him that she was with child. Typical mortal,” said Dorian with a hint of disdain in his voice. “Runs off at the first sign of trouble. They’re a cowardly race, always arguing and fighting over things that are inconsequential while the large issues lay at their feet like a rotting corpse.”

  “I take it you don’t like humans,” I said.

  “Not particularly.”

  “I’m not a huge fan, either. They all seem to live in their own little worlds. But Sean’s all right. He keeps my existence a secret. I mean, he can get a bit pretentious at times and is a complete smartass. Plus, there’s that thing where he thinks he’s smarter than me at times. And he always has to be right. Oh, and he can’t just enjoy things at face value; he always has to analyze everything to death. But otherwise, he’s okay. I like that he has a big heart and my wings don’t freak him out, so there’s that.”

  “I guess that’s something,” he said compliantly. Dorian’s demeanor suddenly changed. He appeared uneasy. “Basically, you shouldn’t exist. It’s common knowledge that only human women can give birth to Hybrids. A Hybrid male and a human woman. That’s it. That’s how it happens. But a human male and a Hybrid female—completely impossible. But somehow, it happened, and here you are.”

  I looped my thumbs through the belt loops of my worn jeans and gazed out at the hills. My vision was so keen that it honed in on the bugs crawling in the tall grass half a mile away.

  “Who’s after me?” I asked. I was still trying to come to terms with what happened earlier.

  “The same people who were after your mother. They’re after the spear.”

  “But this is the first time anything like this has ever happened. I mean, I’ve had people who discovered my existence, who tried to capture me as a kind of trophy, but no one has ever come after me like this before. Why now? Why after all this time?”

  “I don’t know. It probably has to do with the fact that none of us knew where you were until now. The more we dug, the more we discovered. And we knew that if we figured it out, so would they. When we combined it all with my visions, all the signs pointed to the daughter of Keelin and that she would be an important ally in the battle against Azazel and his Army.”

  “An ally? I’m no soldier.”

  “Didn’t say you were. But I saw you fight off that attacker back there before Lillith jumped in. You can hold your own.”

  Dorian rarely looked up. I wasn’t positive, but it felt as if he was purposely avoiding my gaze. I continued to glance over in hopes of catching his eye, but he never looked my way. His refusal to make eye contact with me was frustrating.

  “Where’d you really learn to fight like that?” he asked.

  “When I left the abbey, I traveled around Europe and Asia for a bit. I learned to meditate in India. I trained in different fighting styles all over. Spain, Japan, Ireland. I’ve only had to defend myself a few times when people discovered my existence, which is why I live way out here, far from the prying eyes of mortals. Sean goes into town and buys whatever supplies I might need. No one bothers me here.”

  Dorian laced his fingers together and placed his hands on top of his head. He looked pensive as he took in the scenery around us. I said nothing, allowing him to gather his thoughts while I gathered my own. The events of the day caused me to reminisce about my past and the various paths and events that had led me to where I was at that exact moment. The people, the run-ins, the isolation.

  The silence went on far too long for my liking.

  I finally turned to face him and cleared my throat. His gaze met mine, but I wasn’t prepared. I quickly glanced down at the ground, my cheeks growing warm with embarrassment.

  Sean was the only person I’d allowed myself to grow close to in over a century. I’d always felt comfortable around him, but Dorian’s presence made me nervous for reasons unbeknownst to me. Perhaps I’d just grown accustomed to being alone due to my self-imposed solitude. But deep down I knew it had more to do with the fact that I wasn’t a people person. At least with Sean I could be myself—sarcastic, bitter, and awkward. Yet the moment Dorian and Lillith arrived, my level of discomfort had increased substantially. It’s not as though I felt the need to be on my best behavior with them there. I had no need to impress them in any way. But with the two of them around, I didn’t know how to act normal. I was out of practice when it came to being social.

  My awkwardness was rooted in years of being a loner. Since I’d rarely been around people, I didn’t know how to talk to them. Sean could attest to that. When he and I first met, I could barely utter a basic sentence without sounding like a complete idiot. In fact, it took a few years before I was comfortable enough to hold an actual two-way conversation with him that didn’t involve single-
word answers on my part. And considering that I had large wings hanging from my back, the odds of living what would be deemed a normal life were pretty slim. Since I didn’t fit in, it was best that I kept to myself. But that loneliness had its drawbacks. It contributed to my repeated suicide attempts. Sometimes, I felt it would have been easier not to exist and face death than continue on with a life where I questioned the reason I was born in the first place.

  I was a girl with wings who could fly. I had an aptitude for art. I didn’t get cold, hungry, or tired. Those were all things that made me unique—and a freak.

  But why was I there? What was my purpose? Why had I been allowed to exist in a world that no longer believed in miracles or in the unbelievable?

  Days would pass where an overwhelming darkness consumed me, and I would question those thoughts until I no longer wanted to know the answers. In those dark moments I’d find myself looking for new ways to die.

  After all, what good was a girl with wings who had no purpose?

  But ever since Dorian mused about the mysterious afterlife of a Hybrid, I wasn’t sure that kind of death would be any better.

  “How many times have you tried to kill yourself?” he asked.

  I shot him a glaring look.

  “Get out of my head, would ya?” I snapped. I wondered how much he’d heard. I quickly tried to change the subject. “You didn’t answer my question. Who’s after me? You mentioned that someone means business this time. Who?”

  Dorian took a deep breath and turned to face me. The seriousness of what he was about to reveal was etched on his brow. He looked me straight in the eye and held that gaze for a few seconds before he spoke.

  “Azazel.”

  I remembered our earlier conversation about the Book of Enoch and the story of the Watchers. My wings fluttered a bit at the sound of his name.

  “Azazel? You mean the angel, the leader of the Watchers? The guy who is determined to bring about the end of the world? That Azazel?”

  “One in the same.”

  I wasn’t sure how much news one person could take in a single day. My skin crawled, and I felt my heart begin to race through my chest.

  “So, the leader of the Watchers is after me? Why?” I asked.

  “Because he can’t raise his consorts without the Spear of Azazel. And everyone thinks you have it.”

  “But I don’t. The only thing my mom left me was a piece of paper, a key necklace—that up until today I didn’t know was a sword in disguise—and my name. I don’t know anything about a spear.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He thinks you do. Therefore, you are his enemy—or his ally. It all depends on whether he thinks he can sway you to his side.”

  “Why would I want to help bring about the end of the world?”

  Dorian sighed heavily.

  “Because he’s convinced other Hybrids that bringing about the end of the human existence will result in a new world dominated by Hybrids and angels. No more wars. No more pestilence. Once the Watchers are raised, they plan to destroy every human on Earth and wage a war against God himself for a right to their own dominion.”

  “That’s ridiculous. They can’t defeat God.”

  He shook his head, as if answering a question inside his own mind.

  “But Azazel and the other Watchers don’t see it that way. They believe they can sway other angels and Hybrids to join their army to fight.” Dorian absentmindedly reached out and brushed his fingers along the edge of my wings but quickly pulled his hand back as if he realized he’d crossed some kind of line. “And there’s more.”

  “More?” I felt my stomach flip with nerves. But I couldn’t be sure if it was because of his words or his touch.

  “There’s a prophecy that’s been handed down through generations of Nephilim about a Protector and the Spear of Azazel. It said that when the end of days nears, only the blood of the Protector can awaken the Watchers where they sleep, and that only the spear can unlock their earthly prison, allowing them to rise and regain their angelic bodies once more. But it also says that the Protector is the only one who can keep it all from happening.”

  “Well, as long as no one knows where the spear is, we’re safe, right?” I asked.

  Dorian stared at me blankly for a moment and then shook his head. “Azazel’s army won’t stop looking until they find it.”

  An exasperated growl escaped my throat, and I quickly shoved my thumbs into my back pockets. “What about the Protector? We can just keep him safe and hidden from Azazel, and none of it happens.”

  Dorian again grazed the edge of my feathers with his fingertips. He seemed lost in thought, almost sad. His demeanor changed as he appeared to collect himself, looking up to face me.

  “It’s not that easy,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re the Protector.”

  Chapter 6

  Together, we walked back to my trailer in complete silence. I was in shock, at least I thought so; I wasn’t sure since I’d never felt like that before. I should have suspected there was more to my story than I thought; after all, I’d been alive for over three hundred years and had massive wings. It’s not like I’d walked around the earth thinking I was normal or anything.

  My entire life had been spent wandering the planet, pondering my own existence and wondering what my purpose was.

  Why am I here? Why was I born?

  I thought there had to be a reason. After centuries of witnessing wars, genocide, and power-hungry leaders wrangle for control, I began to wonder if there was anything I could do to make any kind of dent in the world.

  In my form, I was forced to live the hermit life. There were times I’d gone years without any personal interaction; it truly tested the boundaries of sanity. Even the strongest people could crack under that kind of solitude, and I’d been doing it for hundreds of years.

  It was why I kept Sean around. Not because he ran errands for me or kept my secret. It was because I was lonely. But I would never admit it out loud.

  Sean never asked for anything. He just simply existed. And what did I give him in return? Attitude, harassment, and sarcasm. I didn’t treat him that way out of ill-will or resentment. It was because I was socially moronic. It wasn’t like I grew up learning how to act in social situations. I might have been centuries old, but inside I was still an awkward teenaged girl who didn’t know how to talk to boys.

  I sometimes likened myself to Tarzan. But instead of being brought up by apes, I’d been raised by Catholic nuns in complete secrecy and then headed out on my own when I was seventeen.

  My first real interaction with anyone outside of the abbey was with a blind merchant somewhere at the edge of Spain. He’d been old—almost ancient, at least in human years—but he’d been kind. His cottage lay just on the outskirts of a small village, a little off the beaten path. He seemed to sense my loneliness, because he’d purposely take his time packaging the things I’d buy from him so we’d have time to chat. I liked being able to talk to someone without seeing fear or confusion on their face due to my appearance.

  And he had the ability to make me laugh—something which was a rarity for me.

  I’d been going to see him for a few months when everything changed. Although it was late, his blindness skewed his sense of day and night. I knew he’d be awake, so I set out flying amidst the dark sky, hoping to avoid human detection. When I reached his cottage, I was devastated to find that it had burned down. After frantically searching the perimeter for any sign of the old man, I stood back, taking in the horrific sight, afraid of what I might find when I finally gathered the courage to look inside the scorched remains of his dwelling. The fire eventually burned itself out, and I wandered amongst the ash and burnt wood, barefoot amongst the destruction, mortified at the sight of his charred body curled up in the corner. It was then that I realized he had been very much like me, living a solitary life. All those times we talked had been just as much for him as they had been for me.

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sp; I picked up his body and carried him like a child, his head resting on my shoulder as my arms cradled his neck and legs. In complete darkness, I walked a mile down the road keeping his body close to mine. The only light was a full moon, shining brightly against the bleak canvas of sky. The night provided some cover as I buried my friend, giving him the proper interment he deserved.

  It was years before I came in contact with another human. The pain of his death—even years later—was too much for me. Not just because I was depressed at the loss of a human life, but because I was jealous I couldn’t attain that same end. His death left me cold, causing my emotions to decay like fallen leaves in the early winter. I’d allowed myself to feel something for a human, and it had only brought me grief.

  Humans had no idea what a blessing it was to live a limited number of years and find release from it all when it was over.

  For me, it was never over—no matter how hard I had tried.

  A breeze ruffled my feathers, startling me for a moment. I looked up to find that Dorian and I had reached my shed. The bodies of my attackers were finally gone. All trace of them had vanished, the fire doing its job. We stepped through the door and were greeted by an awkward silence.

  Sean and Lillith sat staring at one another from opposite ends of my studio.

  Lillith’s face showed concentration—mouth pursed out slightly, eyes squinted tightly. Sean looked confused, extremely still as if frozen in time.

  Dorian laughed and shook his head as if he’d been let in on some kind of secret I wasn’t aware of.

  “Lillith. You really need to stop doing that,” he said. “You know humans don’t like it.”

  “What is she doing?” I asked in a low voice, not exactly sure what I’d just walked in on.

  “I can’t help it,” said Lillith. “His thoughts are just so...God, I don’t know...off?”

  Sean didn’t move, but his gaze followed me as I walked toward him. He opened his mouth a bit and began to speak in a slow, halting pace.

  “She’s in my head. I can feel her walking around up there like she owns the place or something. And I can’t make her stop. Tell her to get out!” Sean’s face was contorted.