The Rephaim: Burn Part 1

The Rephaim.

Burn.

Paula Weston.

THE REPHAIM WHO'S WHO.

Gaby/Gabe Recently discovered she's not completely human-and that she knows how to kill creatures from h.e.l.l with a sword.

Jude Gaby's twin brother. Also not who he thought he was. Not necessarily unhappy to discover he's more than a backpacker.

Rafa Jude's best friend. Had a complicated history with Gabe. Now has a complicated relations.h.i.+p with Gaby.

Jason Gaby and Jude's cousin. Keeper of secrets. Not keen on the rest of the Rephaim.

Loyal to the Sanctuary.

Daniel One of the Council of Five. Gabe's ex. Nathaniel's righthand man. Snappy dresser.

Taya Designated head-kicker. Punches first, asks questions later.

Malachi Daisy Taya's battle partner. Messy history with Mya. A close friend of Gabe's. Impulsive, loyal. Not a fan of Mya.

Micah Another old friend of Gabe's. Laid-back. Deceptively effective in battle.

Calista One of the Council of Five (ex-soldier). Limited sense of humour.

Uriel Another member of the Council of Five. Also an ex-soldier. Still jumps into the fray as opportunities arise.

Zeb Reclusive member of the Council of Five; guides the Sanctuary's theological and philosophical thinking.

Magda The academic on the Council of Five. Not a fighter.

Outcasts.

Mya Volatile, unpredictable anti-authoritarian with an excessive fondness for kohl eyeliner.

Ez Calm and level-headed. Emotionally intelligent and deadly with sharp weapons. One half of the Rephaim's only functional couple.

Zak A man mountain of few words. Trusts Jude and Rafa implicitly. The other half of above-mentioned couple.

Jones Easy-going, lethal. Doesn't hold grudges. Has more patience with Mya than most people.

Seth Always up for a fight. Tall and strong-even for the Rephaim.

PROLOGUE.

Up until a few minutes ago, here's what I thought I knew about my life.

Eleven days ago I was living in Panda.n.u.s Beach with my best friend, Maggie, holding down a job at the library, grieving for my twin brother Jude. I thought I was a backpacker; I thought I'd watched Jude die in a crumpled mess of metal and petrol and dust. I thought I was learning to get on with my life, despite weird and gruesome dreams that featured h.e.l.l-beasts and mutilations.

Then Rafa came to town. Violence followed-and some mind-bending news. I wasn't nineteen: I was a hundred and thirty-nine. I wasn't a high school drop-out estranged from my parents: I was part of the Rephaim-a society of half-angel half humans. My father was one of the Fallen, a band of disgraced archangels banished from heaven and sent to h.e.l.l thousands of years ago for seducing human women. A hundred and forty years ago, led by Semyaza, they broke out and did the same thing all over again. And then they disappeared without a trace. The only one of the Fallen who abstained was Nathaniel. He's the one who gathered together the Fallen's b.a.s.t.a.r.d babies and made us into a society. Raised us into an army and created a base for us at the Sanctuary. Called us the Rephaim. He murdered our mothers to do it-not that anyone but Jude and I knew about it until a few moments ago.

Nathaniel claims our destiny is to find our Fallen fathers and turn them in: hand them over to the Angelic Garrison. But we're not the only ones hunting them. h.e.l.l's Gatekeeper demons are also tracking them, and are itching to destroy the Rephaim along the way.

My role in all this is complicated.

About a decade ago, there was a major split among the Rephaim over what should happen if we actually found our fathers. Jude and twenty-three others including Rafa rebelled. They left the Sanctuary and became Outcasts. I should have walked out with them, but I didn't.

Then, a year ago, Jude and I made up. Jason-our cousin, who'd been hiding from Nathaniel all these years-reached out to us. He told us about a young girl in his family who had visions. She'd seen something important involving me and Jude, so we went to see her. At that point, as far as anyone knew, we disappeared. Both factions of the Rephaim a.s.sumed we'd betrayed them; that we'd found the Fallen-and it got us killed.

But we were both alive. With no memory of being Rephaim or what we'd done, both thinking the other was dead. Me living in Panda.n.u.s Beach with my grief. Then Rafa found me and told me who I was. Helped me find Jude. Reunited me with my brother, who seemed to take the truth better than I did. Who fitted back into his Rephaite skin so much quicker than me.

A few days ago, we discovered there's a family in Iowa that hates us; has done for generations. They claim to receive divine guidance about how to protect the world from us, including building an iron-lined room capable of trapping Rephaim despite our supernatural abilities. A family who lost a woman and teenager, horribly killed when demons overran that farm and took control of the iron room.

And then the demons took Rafa and Taya.

We rescued them. Got them back and destroyed the iron room. Along the way, we found out that Mya-de facto leader of the Outcasts-is actually a member of the family in Iowa. She gave herself away when she saved Rafa and me yesterday, then she went to ground.

And now the Gatekeepers are headed for Pan Beach to draw the Rephaim into a fight that could end us-or jumpstart a prophesied war between heaven and h.e.l.l.

A few minutes ago, Rafa, Jude and I rallied a crew of Outcasts and Sanctuary Rephaim to head to Pan Beach to try to stop the Gatekeepers tearing apart the town I love.

But on the way here, everything changed.

A few minutes ago, I didn't know my own story. Why I stayed at the Sanctuary when Jude and the others left to become Outcasts. What secrets Rafa was keeping from me. A few minutes ago, I didn't know what Jude and I were doing when we had our memories taken from us.

The difference between now and a few minutes ago? Now I remember it all.

NOW.

AWAKENINGS.

Jude and I are looking at each other. Watching. Sunlight streams through the window, warms my back. I can hear the surf pounding the beach a block away. A magpie somewhere outside. My room smells of stale coffee and the half-melted vanilla-bean candle in a mason jar by my bed. My chest is a storm of emotion, thunderous and insistent.

'What do you remember?' Jude keeps his voice low, doesn't move closer.

I bite my lip. Memory after memory rises up like a wave, crashes down, replaced by another. They just keep coming.

'Gaby, we need to talk.'

'I know. Just...'

I close my eyes. I'm unhinged, spinning. There's a tornado under my ribs, surging and tearing at me. Voices in the kitchen, louder now. Mick Butler. Zak. Micah. Daisy. Footsteps in the hallway. I force my eyes open, let the world back in.

'Gabe.' Ez steps into the doorway. 'What do you want us to do with the Butlers and their crew?' Daisy appears between Ez and Jude, still rattled about having chosen to defy the Sanctuary and come with us.

I cast around for some thought to anchor me to the moment. Demons are coming to tear Pan Beach apart.

That'll do.

I remember where I am. Who I am. 'They're human. They need to go home and sleep. We'll catch up later at the Imperial.' My voice is steadier than I expect. 'Tell Mick to stay off the mountain.'

Ez frowns. 'Are you okay?' She looks at Jude and then back at me. 'What's happened?'

I shake my head. Swallow. My heart is racing. Ez and Daisy are going to hear my pulse if I don't get out of here. 'Just relieved to be home.'

Home.

'When are you going to Rafa's?' Ez asks.

My stomach does a neat somersault. 'Soon,' I say. 'I need a run.' Because if I don't burn energy soon, the chaos in my gut is going to rip me open.

'A run?' Daisy says. 'Like, now?'

'Yep.' My mouth is dry.

'What about everyone else? Shouldn't we be-'

'You can all chill for half an hour. We'll work out a plan when I'm back.' I'm talking too fast. I look around for my running gear, spy three-quarter tights in the pile of clean was.h.i.+ng on my desk. 'I need to change.' I force myself to make eye contact with Daisy. 'I won't be long.'

'I'll come with you.'

'No.' It comes out too loud. Daisy stares at me, her straight red hair tucked behind her ears. Freckled cheeks flushed. 'I need...s.p.a.ce.'

Ez's forehead is still creased. 'But you'll call into Rafa's?'

I nod, noncommittal, and kick off my boots.

The voices in the kitchen are louder. Micah's arguing with Rusty. Ez gives a meaningful glance in their direction. 'I need to sort out these clowns. Daisy-a hand?' Ez disappears back down the hallway. Daisy catches my eye for a second, shakes her head in frustration, and follows.

Jude stays. 'Can we talk?'

Anger stirs-or the memory of it. I can't tell what's real and what's an echo right now. 'Let me get my head straight.'

'Gaby-'

I grab a t-s.h.i.+rt and my running shoes and s.h.i.+ft next door to Maggie's room without looking at him. I stand for a moment, my breathing quick and ragged, thoughts tumbling.

Maggie's bed is neatly made but her work table is a jumble of cloth bolts and patterns. Her sketchbook is closed, half-covered by a crimson shawl she started knitting last week. Chanel No. 5 still lingers. It brings another flood of memories-more recent-of cooking with Maggie in our kitchen, walking down the hill to work together, sharing the bathroom mirror. Drinking beer in our regular seats at Rick's, overlooking the esplanade.

My throat tightens. I need to run. Now.

I s.h.i.+ft with the shoes in my hand. It's easy now, like walking. I pinpoint my arrival to a spot behind a hulking fig tree on the rainforest track. The path is empty under the leafy canopy. I stomp my foot on the trunk to jam my heel into the runner. I don't realise how much I'm shaking until the third time I fumble the laces.

Quick hamstring and calf stretches. I fix my eyes on the track, antic.i.p.ating the cool air against my skin, the burn in my muscles. I need the release. I need the escape.

But I already know I can't outrun the thing I'm trying to avoid.

The truth.

11 YEARS AGO.

ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE.

I don't want to be here.

I'm still wound tight from yesterday. It's hard not to be. I wish my katana was closer but it's hidden a few metres away, out of sight. I haven't even got a knife in my boot: we're not in a boot-wearing kind of place.

'Drink up.' Rafa gestures to the fishbowl gla.s.s in front of me. Frothy pink bubbles fizz at the edges. I pick out the umbrella and take a sip through a fat plastic straw. The a.s.sault is instant: strawberry, coconut, Grand Marnier. Sickly sweet with the consistency of wet cement. I unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

'Yep. Disgusting.'

We're at yet another bar. We've been to hundreds over the years, maybe thousands-I've lost count. Usually it's all dull lighting, nicotine haze and stained carpet. Not tonight. Tonight we're outdoors under a thatched roof, breathing in sea air laced with exotic flowers and kerosene from torches lining the beach. Waves break beyond the guttering flames with gentle monotony. Couples with unnaturally vivid drinks stand chatting, skin scorched from the day's sun. Candles in jam jars are scattered around on crates. A guy with tribal tattoos and a wide, happy face strums an acoustic guitar in the corner.

Behind the bar, Jude tosses c.o.c.ktail bottles like a seasoned pro and flirts with two blondes in sarongs. Daisy is next to him, slicing fruit, barely watching what she's doing with the knife. It's like yesterday never happened. Not the undersea earthquake a few hundred metres offsh.o.r.e here; not the s.h.i.+t-storm back home.

Yesterday the island shuddered. A few kilometres inland, an old church cracked and slumped and the road split in two. The locals rode out the aftershocks and waited for the repercussions from the sea. Jittery tourists held their breath.

Not all that different from what was going on at the Sanctuary. Jude and Nathaniel arguing. Again. The rest of us keeping our heads down, waiting for the aftermath. The ground s.h.i.+fting under our feet.

But now, with the sea again calm and the sky a crisp blanket of stars, it's hard to believe the world was almost upside down yesterday-here or there. Ez and Zak are at a table behind me. Half-watching the shadows beyond the torches, mostly watching each other. Whispering, frowning. It's not the earthquake they're worried about, or even the promise of Gatekeepers sniffing around; It's what's going on between Jude and Nathaniel.

I straighten and stretch my neck side to side. 'I really need to hit something.'

Rafa's mouth quirks. 'I know what you need.'

'In your dreams.' I know where this is going: it's been the same banter for about five decades now. Usually he saves it for an audience.

'In my dreams, Gabe, you end up slick with sweat and moaning.'

'I have food poisoning?'

He laughs, a beer halfway to his lips. Condensation drips from the bottle. He's completely at ease here: three-quarter cargoes, frayed t-s.h.i.+rt, bare feet. 'I'm just saying that if you need distracting, I'm your man.'

'If I wanted to go places everyone else has been, Rafa, I'd take a trip to Disneyland.'

He leans in closer. 'Yeah, but don't you want to know why everyone loves s.p.a.ce Mountain?'

Jude walks down the bar and pushes a fresh beer in front of Rafa. 'Dude, what have I told you about talking that s.h.i.+t to my sister? At least where I can hear you.' He glances at my gla.s.s, still full. 'You're not even trying.'