Michael: The Mark (Airel Saga Book Four)

Chapter XII

WE TOOK A TAXI to Georgetown for some grub. Of course, when I say taxi, I mean tiny little minivan piled to overflowing with, like, almost twenty people in it and on it. It didn't help that the driver thought he was Enzo Ferrari himself, the way he blasted down the thoroughfares.

"I find you veddy good place to eat," he said to us, flashing his pearly whites.

And it was true. The food was astonishing. I had never had fish so tasty in my life. Fish. It was likely because most of my prior experiences with seafood were deep-fried and square, served up with plenty of tartar sauce.

We sat at a secluded table in the corner of a little shop that sold light groceries and sundries, but that was also, according to our taxi driver, one of the best places in town to eat. I figured in that way it was a little like one of my favorite greasy spoons back home, Delsa's Ice Cream Parlor. Just a mom-and-pop shop.

After our main meal, Ellie ordered us some samosas, little triangle-shaped pies filled with meat and veggies. She also ordered us some Turkish coffee, which was indescribable and amazing. We sat and talked, bloated with food. The ocean breezes filtered through the place through shutters that were thrown wide open against the sunshine.

"Well," Ellie said, "I suppose it's time to let you both in on a little secret."

The expression on her face didn't give away a bit of what she was about to tell us. I couldn't have imagined it. She just sat there with an adorable smirk on her face, like she was playing, like she was just going to indulge in a little girlish gossip. It seemed innocent enough at first blush, and I returned her half-mischievous little smile as she began to speak.

"I suppose I should just be out with it," she said, fidgeting slightly. "I'm not who I told you I am."

The smile faded slowly from my face. I looked at Michael. He was looking dead at her; he didn't return my inquisitive glance.

"I'm not an angel," Ellie said, dropping the bomb on us.

A moment went by unmolested, slippery. I couldn't get ahold of it. "Say what?" I said in disbelief.

"I said, girlie, I'm not an angel. Not a full-blood, anyway."

Though I probably should have launched to my feet and shouted at her, I didn't have it in me. I just couldn't conjure up the emotion. I was instantly very tired, and I felt a large resignation coming for me, threatening to make everything I had ever done and ever would do completely meaningless. I searched for words and came up empty.

Michael interjected. "So you've lied to us this whole time."

She shrugged. "Pretty much."

As far as I could tell, she was having a great time with this new joke. Surely, I thought, there must be more to it. I probed inwardly for She and couldn't make out any signs of alarm coming from her. Still. What's really going on here?

I looked at Ellie's face and couldn't detect any malicious intent there. "So what are you saying?" I asked.

"You're not a full-blood," Michael said. "Then what are you? Explain yourself."

"Yeah," I said, "because this ... I mean, this is messed up. You've been lying to us the whole time."

"Shh," Ellie hissed at us. "We still need to maintain at least a little bit of order here." She sat forward a bit and directed herself only at me. "Airel, what I mean to say is that I'm just like you are. I'm a half-breed."

"Wait. What? So you're a ... an Immortal? You've been changed too?"

"Yeah." She sat back and looked at both of us for a moment.