Other Seekers nodded as we passed them. Most were waiting for new assignments just like us. As we continued on, I noticed the white marble floors were darkening to a black. The only time that happened was when a Phantom visited. We didn’t take them prisoner often, not unless they had information we needed. I, for one, didn’t think it wise, but Ares led us all, even though I didn’t trust him. I trusted Michael, the archangel we answered to. He reported to the Light. As Seekers, we owed the angels our allegiance.
We walked by a few waiting warriors, including Hermes and Apollo, both of whom were giving us the signal to stop approaching Ares, but we never listened. Let me rephrase that: I never listened, and where I went Adonis followed. So to the front of the room we walked.
“Ares?” I asked.
His muscles tightened as he stretched to his full height, an impressive seven feet of pure warrior, and looked down at me with worry in his eyes. His normal uniform of pristine white was bloodied and torn.
“Something happened, I gather?” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood, and looked to the side and saw Hermes bite his lip to keep from laughing. To the left, Aphrodite was shaking her head to warn me to stop talking.
“Yes, you are correct, Athena. How wise you must be to gather such intimate knowledge…” His mocking tone irritated me.
“Do you need us for something, brother?” Adonis asked.
“We have one.”
“By one, I assume you mean a Phantom?” I said, bored that it was taking so long for the information to get out. The adrenaline of the fight was still itching in my bones.
“He’s in the hold,” Ares confirmed.
“And the information he has?” I asked, wondering why everyone seemed to be so uncomfortable.
“In time,” Ares said. “For now, our leader asks for you.”
“Michael?” I called him by his first name.
I heard gasps and instantly regretted my familiarity. I’ve known him since my birth into this world. After all, our leaders needed to keep their enemies close, and technically I was daughter to the worst type of enemy known to mankind.
Guess I left out a minor detail: the leader of the Phantoms was my father. His name was Shemyaza. He was the original — the one, who in a moment of pure genius, had decided to ruin the lives of many. He’d led over two hundred Watchers to the earth to mate with the females. He’d found himself entranced by their beauty. He was one of the few who had not been imprisoned in the Abyss after the Light discovered the deceit of the Watchers, or as humans called them, Titans. No, his punishment was to roam the earth with the Prince of Darkness. He ruled the Phantoms. His greatest desire was to free the Watchers from the Abyss, to restore humankind to the hands of evil, making it impossible for them to align themselves with Light.
It was only natural for others to keep a close eye on me, considering I was known for my cunning battle plans and fighting. It seems I never lost. This translated into me being babysat more than usual, considering the Phantoms would have loved to have me fight for them. Tough luck.
It might have been why I was so hard on myself. My family heritage would bum anyone out. It wasn’t like I had the cards on my side; in fact, they were stacked quite heavily against me.
Adonis squeezed my hand, and I followed Ares into the inner chambers where Michael resided.
The room was full of so much light, it hurt my eyes.
A glowing figure of the whitest snow was sitting behind the mahogany desk. The Light was the reason the Seekers wore white. Angels reflected the presence of El. We couldn’t help but be a reflection of our Creator. We wore white to remind ourselves where our allegiance lay. When angels were present, darkness was cast out. All Nephilim had a healthy glow about them. It was enough of a difference that people took notice that we either had a really good skin regimen or something was somewhat off with our appearance.
I tried to keep my bitterness at bay as memories of my past flooded my mind. Not that I personally had anything to do with the fall or choices made by my people, but it still didn’t make me feel like I was good, even though I so desperately wanted to be.
The large glass door shut, creating a vacuum-like seal behind me. I felt a whoosh of air as the room stilled. The light faded slightly as my eyes adjusted. And then I saw his face.
It always made me want to cry.
Sitting behind the mahogany desk was Michael, commander of the angels and our leader, the one who interceded on our behalf. We had been forever separated from El, not by our choices but by the choices of the Watchers.
“Athena…” Michael’s voice sounded authoritative, strong, and every bit like the stereotype Hollywood had come up with. It was deep, beautiful, and commanding. Unfortunately, within a few minutes, my walls came crashing down. Angels had a way of making others around them either burn with fear or fall down in worship.
Phantoms always screamed and ran in the other direction. Seekers tended to have a sense of calm. I say it was a gift from God that angels didn’t terrify us; it would be hard to pledge my allegiance to something I compared to the boogeyman.
I wasn’t sure if Michael actually wanted me to answer him, so I waited. The light faded until finally he seemed like just a menacing giant sitting behind the desk instead of a ray of sunlight.