actually more threatening without it.
Sophie looks at him and falters. She glances towards the stairs. ‘Nothing.’
‘Oh, come on, Sophie, you seem like a clever girl. If you want information, you’ll have to give Gaby something in return.’
I’m silent, still startled at how easily she said ‘half-breeds’, as if the words carry no weight.
‘I’m offering a blessed amulet. There is nothing else here for her.’ Her voice is tighter now.
Jason clears his throat. ‘Maybe we should—’
‘How did your family find out about the Fallen and the Rephaim?’ Rafa asks, ignoring Jason.
‘Our ancestors received a sign from God.’
‘What sort of sign?’
She presses her lips together and shakes her head.
‘How about when they found out.’
She glances at the back of the room. ‘When the bastards were born.’ Her tone is careful now, guarded.
‘How did they know about that?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘I thought they found out through a revelation of God?’
‘They did.’
Rafa pauses, changes tack. ‘How old are you?’
‘Sixteen.’
A smile. ‘You don’t really care about this stuff, do you?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Why?’
‘God has chosen us to protect the world from the Fallen and their bastards.’ She says it without irony. She believes it.
‘Protect the world how?’
She looks at Rafa, her eyes travelling over his face as though she’s memorising him. She swallows.
‘I can’t say.’
Rafa gestures to the almost empty room around us. ‘So, what’s this place—the Church of the Righteous Corn Farmers?’
Sophie’s eyes flit past him again and I notice a door slightly ajar beyond the stairwell, a sliver of light. Rafa follows her gaze. ‘What else is up here?’ He moves away from the couch, towards the door.
‘Nothing. Jason …He can’t…’ She presses her palm against her breastbone, her fingers clutching at something beneath the silk.
‘I’ll get him.’ I pass the pot-bellied stove. Rafa is almost at the door.
‘Hey, Matt , wait up.’
He doesn’t break stride as he enters the room.
‘What the hell…’ he says.
I stop short of running into him. It takes me a second to register what he’s staring at. The windowless room has an architect’s drawing board against one wall, a stool, a filing cabinet and a lamp. All four walls are plastered with photographs of people. It’s odd, but I don’t understand Rafa’s reaction until he walks over and stabs his finger at one of the images. My breath catches. I’ve seen it before, on his phone. It’s of him and Jude at a football match.
‘I don’t understand.’ I peer at the photos around it, all held up by thumbtacks. There’s one of a broad-shouldered man with curly black hair, jogging along a road. It can only be Zak. I run my finger over image after image, faces of people I’ve met this week: Daisy, Ez, Micah, Uriel, Daniel, even Nathaniel. Most of them have been taken from a distance.
Rafa is still staring at the picture of him and Jude.
‘Do you think she recognised you?’
Before he can answer, there are three rapid beeps behind us and a door shuts. Not the door that was open—a sliding door, hidden in the wall cavity. Made of metal. Without a handle. ‘Hey!’ My fist thuds on the cold surface. It sounds like we’re inside a bank vault. I press my ear against the door. ‘Jason!’
‘If she recognised me, she’d know there’s no point shutting us in,’ Rafa says. ‘Come here.’ He signals for me to join him in the middle of the room. ‘Enough of this bullshit.’
I put my arm around him and the floor drops away almost immediately. And then my right shoulder explodes with pain, just before we smash into the hard floor.
‘Ugh,’ I grunt and open my eyes. We’re still in the photo room. ‘What happened?’
Rafa disentangles himself from me and climbs to his feet. Without speaking, he shifts again, disappearing like a light going out. And just as quickly, he materialises
Sophie looks at him and falters. She glances towards the stairs. ‘Nothing.’
‘Oh, come on, Sophie, you seem like a clever girl. If you want information, you’ll have to give Gaby something in return.’
I’m silent, still startled at how easily she said ‘half-breeds’, as if the words carry no weight.
‘I’m offering a blessed amulet. There is nothing else here for her.’ Her voice is tighter now.
Jason clears his throat. ‘Maybe we should—’
‘How did your family find out about the Fallen and the Rephaim?’ Rafa asks, ignoring Jason.
‘Our ancestors received a sign from God.’
‘What sort of sign?’
She presses her lips together and shakes her head.
‘How about when they found out.’
She glances at the back of the room. ‘When the bastards were born.’ Her tone is careful now, guarded.
‘How did they know about that?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘I thought they found out through a revelation of God?’
‘They did.’
Rafa pauses, changes tack. ‘How old are you?’
‘Sixteen.’
A smile. ‘You don’t really care about this stuff, do you?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Why?’
‘God has chosen us to protect the world from the Fallen and their bastards.’ She says it without irony. She believes it.
‘Protect the world how?’
She looks at Rafa, her eyes travelling over his face as though she’s memorising him. She swallows.
‘I can’t say.’
Rafa gestures to the almost empty room around us. ‘So, what’s this place—the Church of the Righteous Corn Farmers?’
Sophie’s eyes flit past him again and I notice a door slightly ajar beyond the stairwell, a sliver of light. Rafa follows her gaze. ‘What else is up here?’ He moves away from the couch, towards the door.
‘Nothing. Jason …He can’t…’ She presses her palm against her breastbone, her fingers clutching at something beneath the silk.
‘I’ll get him.’ I pass the pot-bellied stove. Rafa is almost at the door.
‘Hey, Matt , wait up.’
He doesn’t break stride as he enters the room.
‘What the hell…’ he says.
I stop short of running into him. It takes me a second to register what he’s staring at. The windowless room has an architect’s drawing board against one wall, a stool, a filing cabinet and a lamp. All four walls are plastered with photographs of people. It’s odd, but I don’t understand Rafa’s reaction until he walks over and stabs his finger at one of the images. My breath catches. I’ve seen it before, on his phone. It’s of him and Jude at a football match.
‘I don’t understand.’ I peer at the photos around it, all held up by thumbtacks. There’s one of a broad-shouldered man with curly black hair, jogging along a road. It can only be Zak. I run my finger over image after image, faces of people I’ve met this week: Daisy, Ez, Micah, Uriel, Daniel, even Nathaniel. Most of them have been taken from a distance.
Rafa is still staring at the picture of him and Jude.
‘Do you think she recognised you?’
Before he can answer, there are three rapid beeps behind us and a door shuts. Not the door that was open—a sliding door, hidden in the wall cavity. Made of metal. Without a handle. ‘Hey!’ My fist thuds on the cold surface. It sounds like we’re inside a bank vault. I press my ear against the door. ‘Jason!’
‘If she recognised me, she’d know there’s no point shutting us in,’ Rafa says. ‘Come here.’ He signals for me to join him in the middle of the room. ‘Enough of this bullshit.’
I put my arm around him and the floor drops away almost immediately. And then my right shoulder explodes with pain, just before we smash into the hard floor.
‘Ugh,’ I grunt and open my eyes. We’re still in the photo room. ‘What happened?’
Rafa disentangles himself from me and climbs to his feet. Without speaking, he shifts again, disappearing like a light going out. And just as quickly, he materialises
Similar Books
