Fallen Angel of Mine

"But I'm family."



"Don't you dare pull the family card on me, boy. Not when you're all aboard for white-washing your sister's mind."



Jack puffed out his chest. "Commander Borathen—Father—gave me all the information regarding her circumstances and I happen to agree with him. Besides, it's only a couple months' worth of memories—nothing that'll cause serious harm to her mind."



"You always were the one quickest to jump to Father's side, Jack. Even when he's clearly overreacting."



"Mother agrees as well," Jack said, as if her word should set all doubt aside.



"Our mother fought tooth and nail to prevent this from happening. But she's a Templar, first and foremost, bound by the word of our commander." Michael took a step toward Jack. "Now, little brother, may I please have a word with our sister?"



Jack threw up his hands. "Fine. Just don't take too long. And be careful. She's been a handful to control tonight."



Michael shut the door in Jack's face even though he'd clearly planned to say more. The lock clicked and it was just the two of them in the windowless room. Elyssa opened her mouth to say something but Michael put a finger to his mouth. He slid a quarter-sized black disc from his pocket, set it on its side, and sent it spinning across the table with a gentle thump. A barely discernible sonic vibration hummed as the disc spun, making it impossible for anyone outside the room to overhear their conversation.



"Are you here to rescue me?" Elyssa asked, hope rising in her heart, despite Michael's penchant for unquestioning loyalty for the Templars. He'd rarely gone against their father, but something about him seemed much different than the brother she'd always known.



Michael sighed and shook his head. "I already tried once but it wasn't enough."



"You're the one who attacked earlier?"



He nodded. "I didn't count on Quinn returning from assignment as you were making your escape." He pounded his fist against the wooden table, causing the black disc to jump mid-spin. It landed and continued to rotate as though nothing had happened. "You don't understand how important it is you and—that spawn stay together."



Elyssa strained against her restraints. "He has a name."



"I know. Doesn't mean I have to use it."



"And yet you want us to stay together? What the hell kind of logic is that?"



"Wanting and needing are two separate things. I don't care for spawn, never have. But I don't have the blind hatred toward them Father does."



Curiosity tickled Elyssa's brain. "Wait a minute, why do you think it's so important we stay together?"



"Suffice it to say it's very important in the coming days and weeks."



"Since when do you, of all people, go against one of father's decisions?"



His somber eyes darkened. "He's not in his right mind about this. Then again, few are these days."



He was keeping something from her, but Elyssa knew from experience how hard it would be to wrest information from her oldest brother. His inner thoughts were locked in a vault he rarely opened for anyone. She skirted the question. "Are you going to give me a speech about Justin after the mind wipe and just hope I'll believe you?"



He shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I was hoping to gain access to a memory recorder, but they're under lock and key and it'd be too obvious stealing one, especially after arguing with Father about it."



Elyssa wondered if she dared trust him with the recording she'd made, although at this point, it might be too difficult to retrieve, not to mention messy. But what if this was a plot by her father to make sure she hadn't made any last-minute efforts to keep her memories? She felt much closer to Michael than she did to Jack, but Michael had always been loyal to the core. The question was, who was he more loyal to, her or the Templars?



She couldn't bring herself to take the chance. Odds were good she'd find the recording herself within a few days and hopefully believe everything from her own mouth before anything anyone else told her. She certainly wouldn't believe Justin, if only because they would be certain to poison her against him.



"So what can we do?" she asked after a long silent pause.



"I don't know. After they're done with you, I'll have to convince you Justin is okay. But I can't be overt about it or then it'll be me taking the White as well."



"Or facing the penalty for treason."



He nodded. "We're in dangerous waters, Ninjette."



A smile stole over Elyssa's face at the sound of the nickname Michael had called her ever since the first time she'd done a flying kick and dislocated his jaw. He'd been seventeen at the time, and she'd been only ten.



"I'm trying, Michael, but I don't think I'm going to make it."



He knelt in front of her and hugged her tight despite the bonds holding her prisoner. When he withdrew, his eyes looked away from her, the shame evident on his chiseled features. "I've failed you."



Elyssa took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. "No. I'm the one who's failed. I never should have let things reach this tipping point. I underestimated Father's reaction and didn't try to appeal to him. Now everything has reached a boil and I'm in the water." Justin's face flashed into her mind and pain stabbed into her heart. Her head sagged. "It's over."



He kissed her on the forehead. "Be brave. We'll get through this." Michael snatched the still-spinning disc from the table, went to the door, and opened it.



Jack stood outside, curiosity plain on his face. "Finished?"



Michael scowled. "The conversation is." As he walked away, Leia, their mother, walked around the corner, her mouth set in a tight line.



She walked past her two sons and entered the interrogation room, slammed the door in Jack's face behind her.



"You couldn't listen to reason, could you?" Leia wiped a tear as it escaped the corner of her eye.



Anger heated Elyssa's face though sadness tightened her throat. "I followed my heart."



"I tried to convince Thomas this wasn't the answer." Leia squatted in front of the chair and looked Elyssa in the eyes. "But after your trip to Thunder Rock and showing up with a Daemas of House Assad, I'm afraid his decision became final."



"That doesn't make it right."



Her mother nodded. "I know. But if we don't follow orders—if the wife of Thomas Borathen doesn't follow orders—the Templars will fall apart. I can't be the cause of disruption and your father is convinced this will set things right."



"Or it might wipe out a lot more than just the past two months. It might be the end of us all. Justin is important. I'm supposed to be with him. Why can't you two just accept I'm not brainwashed? Maybe I'm the one acting rationally while you two are overreacting like a couple of hover parents?"



Leia pressed a hand to Elyssa's cheek. "Maybe so."



Jack cracked open the door and peered in. "It's time to light the torch."



Leia nodded. "I'll be in the escort."



He smiled. "See, sis? We care about you. This will all be over soon."



Elyssa clenched her teeth to bite back a brutal retort.



The other escorts waited outside. Elyssa had hoped Michael would be there as well, but saw no trace of him. She couldn't blame him. If the positions were reversed, she wouldn't want to be a part of this travesty either.



They left the manor through the back door and took the stone path to the chapel. Inside and out, the building looked much like a small church from the dark ages with a three-story tower housing the communionary. The Templars had, in fact, relocated the ancient building from Italy, stone-by-stone, and reconstructed it.



They entered the chapel and took her inside a room with a pool lined with brilliant white stones. Two female attendants waited there for the ritual bath. She decided not to give them any trouble and emerged fifteen minutes later, dressed in the white ritual robe, to rejoin the others who'd kept a tight guard on the door.



The group trudged up the spiral staircase to a thick iron door guarding the circular room beyond. A rack held several torches, some Elyssa knew by sight, others she had either never heard of or forgotten. Thomas Borathen stood nearby, his face grim but set in stony determination.



He gripped the White Torch in his right hand and opened the iron door. "May the Divinity bless you, Templar."



Elyssa glared at him and thought briefly of kicking the torch from his hand. The handle looked like engraved porcelain but was actually something much stronger, though nobody knew exactly what. The head of the torch also had little in common with its medieval kin as it had no oily rags wrapped around it. Instead, the handle ended in a flat surface with a hole in it. The Novice Torch, Blessed Torch, and other holy torches looked much the same. The Black Torch, an ebony version of the White, was used for executions, though Elyssa had never heard of it being used.



All thoughts of torches fled from her mind as the Templars led her to the Chair of Communion in the center of the round room and bound her there with diamond fiber. Two shiny black pedestals stood to either side of the statue of a woman who held her arms outstretched in greeting. Thomas placed the torch into a hole atop one pedestal where he knelt and whispered a few words while the other Templars filed out.



Elyssa's mother gripped her hand and looked her in the eye for a brief moment before following the others. Thomas finished the ritual prayer and stood.



"Journey well, Templar," he said, his tone formal, his face betraying not a hint of uncertainty or regret in them.



"Go to hell, Father."



A glint of emotion sparked in his eyes before he turned and walked through the door, closing and locking it with a clang, leaving Elyssa in the pitch black of the windowless room.



Just as she wondered what would happen next, the torch burst into a flame of pure white, illuminating the room like a small sun. Desperate to hold onto her memories, she recited her most treasured moments over and over again, telling the stories in the hope of beating this stupid torch at its own game.