The story of the FALLEN

7.Father Simon

Zack is glad that their new liaison has a driver's licence. Picking him up every day and then driving him back to Oxford would be a pure waste of time. He gave him the pass code for the parking behind their building. Since they only own motorcycles, the parking space is mostly empty. Maybe he should rent it out? He knows the neighbours are always complaining about the lack of parking spaces. It’s not that they actually need the money, but he could do something nice. It’s a thought, he’ll have to see what the others think.

Thinking about others makes him sigh. Nakir is up to something, but he couldn’t smell blood on him. Is he better at hiding the bodies or is he behaving for a change and not killing? Well, he has been getting his adrenaline fix with the demons lately. Maybe he doesn’t need to look for it elsewhere? Maybe he realised killing girls is wrong? But, it’s Nakir! Maybe he just hides it better? Or maybe he doesn’t kill? Let’s leave that thought for some other day. Just thinking about it gives Zack a headache.

Layla has been picking on him the last few days. The constant remarks and barbs are not funny anymore. Maybe she’s bored? Maybe she needs more excitement? A new job? Something else to do? Even that scroungy cat can’t distract her from picking small fights. And the cat practically lives in her room. He needs to ask her what’s wrong. Talking always helped with Layla.

Talking never helps with Tamiel. Whatever she’s going through right now, she will have to be the one to tell him. He can ask, but the response will always be the same: piss off. She is not a nurturing and kind woman. She could give the Amazons a run for their money and laugh while she did it. Maybe he could just inquire about Father Simon’s training? She is supposed to teach him self-defence. Is that the reason why she’s so grumpy? Is he a klutz with no coordination? That would be a good reason for her bad mood. She has no patience for clumsy people.

Thinking about Simon… He should be here, but his black car is not out in the parking lot. Just late or did something happen? Tardiness is not something Tamiel condones, so he had better have a bloody good reason for keeping her waiting. Or he might find himself without a head. A very bad predicament for the priest. Keeping one's head is a preferred option, unless you really want to die.

“Where is Simon?” Tammy growls. She smashed his door into the wall. There is probably a dent in the plaster.

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me that he was running late.” Zack answers.

“I’m gonna kill him. You made me train him, keep him in line. He had better show up fast, or he’s dead.” Tammy glares at Zack. The angry lioness growl in her voice is to be taken seriously.

“I’ll try to find out why he’s late. Please don’t murder our liaison.” Zack smiles at her.

“You do that.” She puffs.

“How is his training? Is he totally incompetent?” He inquires. Maybe talking will distract her?

“He’s doing fine. His hits need more work, and his performance could improve with time. He learns fast.” Tammy says.

“That’s great. I thought your bad mood had something to do with his lack of coordination.” Zack smiles.

“No, just him being late.” Tammy glares. “You know those smiles don’t work on me? You can’t disarm me by being your charming self.”

“I’m not trying anything. Can’t I just smile at a friend? I know it’s safe with you. I can't influence you, because you’re not human.” Zack shrugs. At least he got her talking. Maybe she will tell him what’s wrong?

“Yeah…” She drawls. “You have an agenda. I can tell.”

“I always have an agenda.” He shrugs. Play indifferent and draw her in.

“Spill. What has you worried?” Tammy asks him.

“There is something in the air. I can feel it. A change of some sort.” Zack tells her. “Nakir is up to something, he’s acting strange. Layla is picking fights with me and you seem grumpier than ever.”

“What’s wrong with Nakir? He seems the same to me.” Tammy scoffs. “And you don’t have to worry about Layla. That cat is not doing so well, she just needs to get her frustrations out.”

“Nakir seems to have a new hobby. I can’t smell blood on him, so he’s not killing the girls. At least I hope not. I dread finding a pile of bodies somewhere.” Zack explains to Tammy. “He’s at that club every day. Last night he smelled of a virgin.”

“Defiling virgins? That’s definitely new.” She laughs. “Besides, he promised to stop when he switched to high society ladies in Paris.”

“Yeah. Because it would draw too much attention if the court ladies started disappearing.” Zack chuckles. “I know he’s the angel of death, but he demonstrated that he doesn’t need to kill everything he touches.”

Zack can see the black sedan Father Simon is driving pulling into the parking lot. His office is at the back of the building, right off of the back entrance. If he can see the car, so can Tammy. He only hopes she cools down a bit in the meantime. He is curious as to why Simon is carrying a box with him. Is that box the reason he’s late? It should be a good one. Maybe he should go open the door for him? That box looks heavy. And maybe standing between Simon and Tammy would save the guy’s life?

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Simon exclaims. “I had to wait for the delivery.”

“What’s more important than our training?” Tammy yells from the office.

“Nakir’s book. They sent me three different versions from Istanbul. I think it’s mostly translations.” Simon answers with a grunt. The box must be heavy, but Zack is a bastard that way, the priest can suffer and hold the box. It's a good workout for the biceps.

“Well, put that damn box on the table. You missed half of your training session.” Tammy glares at Simon.

“Right away.” Simon answers. He even walks a bit faster, like he’s scared of her. Good. Getting comfortable around Tammy is a sure way to die.

“I’ll take the box upstairs for you.” Zack tells Simon. “Just come up when you’re done.”

“Be careful with the books. They are old, and I have to return them at some point in time.” Simon pleads. The nerd just can’t leave without talking about books. Tammy might make a fine fighter out of him, but she can’t change who he is. Once a nerd, always a nerd.

Zack sets the box on their dining table, before he goes in search of Nakir. It’s not his training session, so he’s supposed to be up here somewhere. Probably on the roof, getting a tan. Or just sleeping the day away. Nakir likes to be outside, so their terrace is set up with plush recliners and lounge canopied beds. The fence is just high enough to offer some privacy from prying eyes.

“Simon got your book.” Zack declares from the terrace door. That outside lounge area is not his thing. He wonders what Nakir sees in it? It’s beige and white. A total contrast to Nakir’s preferred black. Maybe it’s peace?

“Great. He is useful. Maybe Tammy won’t kill him after all.” Nakir answers. “I’ll be right in.”

“You know you can lie in the sun for a year straight and you won’t get more tanned than you are?” Zack just has to ask that.

“I know. It’s not about the tan. I like to look at the clouds, it’s calming.” Nakir tells him. “Besides, the sun is not hot enough to get a tan.”

“Can’t you just magically change your appearance?” Simon inquires.

“She let you off early?” Zack asks back. He is not ready to discuss angel magic with Simon, yet.

“Time was up. She has another group now.” Simon shrugs.

“Slightly altering appearances is one thing.” Nakir says. “Using magic to change one’s skin tone? That is huge. It’s not something to play with.”

“You’re not using magic right now? That’s how you really look?” Simon inquires.

“Clever. You are a researcher by heart. Always a question on hand.” Nakir laughs. “I might show you my true self one day… If you earn it.”

“Is there a checklist of things I must do? How do I earn it? You give points for merit or something?” Simon inquires.

“Bloody Hell!” Zack exclaims. “Simon? Do you have a death wish?”

“He’s entertaining. Not to mention, original.” Nakir chuckles. “Keep it up, Simon. You might give Zack a heart attack, but at least I’m laughing.”

“Do I get points?” Simon grins. The guy is oblivious to the fact that he’s baiting the angel of death, Zack thinks. Nakir is known to kill people for less. But if he’s entertained?

“Yes. Let’s play the Harry Potter thing, then.” Nakir smirks. “Ten points to Simon for originality.”

“Careful, Simon. You can lose points faster than you get them.” Zack tells the guy. He is getting fond of the priest, it would be a shame to lose him now.

“I did get the book you wanted. I don’t think they sent the original.” Simon tells Nakir. “Three copies in different transcripts or translations. They thought I was making a comparison.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Nakir nods. “Which languages do we have? Can we divide the work?”

“The note says first century Greek, Latin, and Greek translation from the 16th century.” Simon shrugs before he adds: “I only read Latin.”

“Fun.” Zack chuckles. “What do you want, Nakir? Old Greek or a bit more modern Greek?”

“Same thing. Just give me one. They are both transcripts. I remember the original was fifty scrolls or something like that.” Nakir scoffs.

“Scrolls are really difficult to send.” Simon comments quietly. “If they even exist anymore. It’s been two thousand years and parchment is brittle.”

Zack decides to ignore the comment. Simon is on thin ice right now, but the guy can’t seem to keep quiet. He shakes his head and opens his book carefully. Like Nakir said, it’s a handwritten transcript from the 16th century. A little weird, since the printing press was widely spread at the time, but maybe the monks had nothing better to do. It’s a wonder this occult book survived at all.

“We’re looking for demons with wings and a penchant for aggression.” Nakir reminds them.

“Do you think the Manticus demon could be in here?” Zack wonders.

“Doesn’t hurt to look.” Nakir responds. “But I think Manticus demons are Asian in origin. Maybe we should expand the search for our winged foes as well? Are we looking too close to home?”

“Maybe not.” Simon says suddenly. He shows them a passage from the text he’s reading. “This sounds like the demon you showed us the other day.”

“Do we have an illustration?” Zack wonders. “What page are you on? Translations by monks tend to be true to the page.”

“Fifty-four. And yes, we have an illustration.” Simon answers.

Nakir snaps his fingers and the drapes close up on their own. The shadows form the demon from the illustration. He reads the Latin passage so that Simon can understand as well. They just don’t have the time to teach Simon new old languages. Zack takes a good look at the demon and frowns. This just might be the right one. Aggressive, attacks without reason, hates angels and humans alike. But what is this particularly nasty creature doing on this plane of existence? Someone had to invoke the demon. What witch would be stupid enough to let this creature loose? Why? What is the gain here? They only cause havoc and destruction. They can’t be directed or tasked with a mission. It’s like letting a rabid dog loose and hoping it will come back home without harming anyone.

“That is a Djall demon. Arabic in origin. Nasty little creature that loves fire.” Nakir explains to Simon. “Good work, Simon. You get ten more points for this book.”

“Thank you. I think.” Simon responds. He is pale and scared, but that is only a projection they are looking at. The priest would die if he came in contact with the real thing, Zack thinks. They have to ease Simon in, before they take him out on a demon hunt.

“Relax. The shadows can’t hurt you.” Nakir scoffs. “Their master is the one you need to worry about.”

“You?” Simon gulps audibly.

“Maybe, but I like you for now.” Nakir laughs. Zack cringes, because he knows what an angel's laugh can do to humans. Simon is lucky that Nakir likes him, or he might not survive the vibrations.