Page 22 of Metatron
“Wait what? Demons can do that?” Francesca blurted out.
“Like I said in the cavern, demons have different abilities. Camouflage is a common one. However, for most it’s weak and can’t handle movement of any kind.”
“What other powers can they have?” Kyra asked.
“The enthralling, which you experienced. Some can cast fire or ice. Others can wield air and use it to lift, squeeze, push.”
“Just like Vader,” Joey breathed in excitement.
Metatron had no idea who this Vader was. “Many demons also disrupt certain technologies when in proximity, like combustion and even chemical reactions.”
“Meaning guns could be useless.” Kyra lamented.
“In close range. A missile shot from afar will remain in motion even if the area around the demon nulls the ignition of accelerants.”
“Hence why you recommended crossbows,” Francesca murmured. “I think I need to do some more studying.” She glanced at Joey and Kyra. “You guys ready to head out?”
At their nods, and without asking his permission, they exited to the ledge and were immediately beamed out. A moment later, so was Metatron, finding himself aboard the ship in his quarters.
His first question? “Where’s Francesca?”
The ship showed him her location, along with the others, at the transfer station getting in the vehicle they’d left behind.
“Why am I not with them?”
The cantorii didn’t reply. Couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. He’d bet on the latter, which meant the order to leave him behind must have come from Francesca.
He’d made her angry, and now she punished him. He’d only meant to show her a real demon so she’d understand what they faced. But did she appreciate the lesson he’d taught? Of course not. Humans could be so emotional about things.
Let her sulk then. Rather than rejoin her at the base, Metatron remained aboard the cantorii trying to better understand humans. Which proved impossible. He especially didn’t grasp how Francesca thought.
He waited for her to contact him. Surely, she’d want his input on matters. By now she’d have grasped he’d done her a favor.
She ignored him, forcing Metatron to go to her. He used the pretext of important news, hiding his pleasure at the sight of her—gleaming with sweat as she trained with others on the crossbow.
He’d drawn her aside and announced, “Zakai and Tamara found Noah’s ark.”
Her response? “I hear we lost Jesus Christ because he was a traitor. That’s going to make convincing people to fight with the angels a lot harder.”
“You already know?”
“Zilla told me. Apparently, she’s already made friends with Atlantis.” The name of Noah’s ark.
“Unfortunately, the demon prince escaped.”
“I’m aware. He’s a tricky bastard. Which is why I need to get back to training, so if that was all you had to say…”
Actually, he had plenty more he wanted to discuss. Such as why, when apart, she filled his mind. Yet, when together, they couldn’t help but fight. He didn’t hate her. On the contrary, Francesca intrigued him on so many levels it frightened. He didn’t have time for an entanglement. Never mind others in the choir had partnered with humans. Metatron couldn’t afford not only the distraction but he had to be very careful because anyone close to him could be targeted by Elyon. Just look at the trouble Jesus caused. Metatron didn’t want to think anyone in the choir would betray. However, at the same time, he couldn’t be sure if their duty to God would outweigh that to their angel brothers.
He left Francesca to her training and did his best to ignore her for a few days. Days where he couldn’t stop thinking about her to the detriment of everything else.
When he finally couldn’t handle the silence and strove to find an excuse to seek her out, he got one in the form of the base being attacked. He arrived in the aftermath, the imps having fled, leaving a swath of destruction—and bodies. It chilled him to see the still forms, but none of them Francesca, not yet. No angels died in the attack, but the transport vessels were destroyed. The base compromised. The time had come to relocate.
The stink of smoke permeated, ruining visibility. It took longer than Metatron liked before he found Francesca, unharmed and barking orders as an alarm blared.
“You need to evacuate,” he declared as he neared her, his relief more intense than expected.
She barely spared him a glance, but her tone held a sneer as she replied, “You don’t say, Captain Obvious. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already working on getting people to safety.”