13. Angels and Demons

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

“Everywhere,” he said. “I was everywhere.” And it echoed. It echoed in the gray halls of mind and memory, and dream. He was alive in a dream, but this wasn’t the dream.
Concentrate, concentrate!
“Tell us what you saw,” Sandra said gently.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I mean—no, I can...I could tell you, I...no. I can’t. I can’t describe it. I’m sorry.” He looked down at his twisting hands. “It was just...it was everything. It was so many things—images and feelings and sounds...”
“Like what?” asked Jack.
“Voices,” Mike said. “And, like, nature sounds. Water and wind and—the sound of...”
He paused.
“The sound of...well...it was like something being born.”
Donatello’s brow furrowed. “A baby?”
Michaelangelo shook his head. “Noo...not like a baby. Not really. But...like something bigger than everything, like the planet itself, or something about the planet. Something, like, like something cosmic.”
“We’re not getting’ into theology here, are we?” Raph asked, frowning.
“No,” Mike said quickly. “No, nothing like that. It wasn’t—I mean—it...it was just so big. And I was inside it. I was...like...it...”
“Hey,” and Leo put an arm around him. “Hey, it’s okay. Take it easy, Mike. Take a few deep breaths.”
Mike breathed, paused. “I felt like...”
There was another pause.
“Like you yourself were being born?” Jack murmured. It was only slightly a question.
They looked at him.
“Yeah,” Michaelangelo nodded. “Exactly.”

Revelations can be common occurances if you know where to look for them. The smell of peppermint tea and honey, and a shaking green leather hand. “Mike, don’t be that way,” Raphael sighed.
They were sitting around a cafeteria table, the ceiling lights dim. Most of the tea had been consumed by Leo and Jack before Jack and Sandra left to do some work; Mike was gingerly sipping as if it burned his tongue.
“I don’t know anymore,” Mike laughed suddenly. “Dude, I...I just don’t know. Freaky as hell, huh?” “We know who you are,” Leonardo said softly, but Mike was shaking his head, shaking his head and his shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. “They were killed,” he said, grinning at his tea, the table, anything but humorous. “They died because I have this thing in my goddamn brain that won’t shut up and now somebody’s out to kill me.”
Donatello frowned. “We don’t know that. Hatcher may be dead.”
Mike laughed again, high, slightly wild. “Nah. He’s alive. Fucker like him doesn’t die, he just goes and hides underground for a while, back under the rock he crawled out of.”
They jumped. They looked at Mike, looked at Raph. Raphael drew in a cold breath. He sounds just like me. Aw, hell, Mikey, don’t. Don’t do this. We don’t need another me running around.
“Sorry,” Michaelangelo whispered. “Guys, I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to do that. I just...I’m lost, y’know? I don’t know myself, I pick up on you...”
Don tried to smile. “Sooner or later you’ll be scrawling theories of relativity on my chalkboard...”
“Or actually learning some discipline,” Leo added with a soft smirk.
Raphael groaned into his hands. “Oh god, no.”
There was general snickering. Mike too, but this time it was normal. He was leaned back in the chair, fingers brushing his tea mug.
Sandra and Jack poked their heads in. “Is this still family time?” Sandra asked.
Mike waved at them. “Come on in.”
They sat. “We would have been back here sooner,” said Jack. “But I got a call from a friend of mine. Haven’t seen him in...oh wow, three years?”
“Is he...one of us?” Mike asked.
Jack smiled. “I guess you could say that. He’s not blatantly telepathic, but he’s got a lot of power. He just doesn’t want any tests.”
“I wouldn’t really blame him,” said Leo. “I mean, no offense, but this is kind of...”
Sandra smiled. “It’s okay. It’s not like we expected to win people over.”
Gulping down the rest of his tea, Michaelangelo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So who’s the friend?”
Jack took this as a cue to sit down. He’d been holding a manila folder in his hands. “There are two, actually—him and his girlfriend.” He didn’t seem to see Mike stiffen as he opened the folder and pulled out two photographs. “I don’t want to say she got roped into it, but she was there when Adam and I met, and I could sense things in her. I guess they at least didn’t mind posing for these.”
He tossed the pictures across the table, and the turtles leaned in for a look. They didn’t look so much posed as unaware of the camera. The boy looked about twenty-four, with light brown hair in the style of anime characters and striking blue-gray eyes. He was very broad at the shoulders, about six feet, wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans. He was sitting in what looked to be a diner booth, and Jack must have positioned the camera to get him all in. His head was half-turned, nose and chin prominent, sharp cheekbones and an expression that harbored a mix of intellect, mischief, compassion, and dark strength.
Sandra was looking over Jack’s shoulder. “I remember how big his hands were. I think he’s an artist.”
“Jack of all trades,” Akira murmured. “He’s a good kid, just hard to read.”
“What’s his name?” Donatello asked.
“Adam,” Jack said quietly. He didn’t elaborate. Mike narrowed his eyes. The sense he got from Jack was almost sad, or a feeling of protectiveness. Very paternal.
Sandra sat down. “I only met them once, but Adam left a serious impression.” She smiled faintly. “He’s an introvert, but he plays out confidence. Plus it helps that he’s good-looking. He’s a student of tang soo do and aikido, by the way.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “Tang soo, really? How high can he kick?”
Jack shrugged. “I never asked. But when we were at the diner, he had a couple of wooden swords with him and he took Joanna into the back parking lot. She actually shattered her sword when she attacked and he blocked.”
Raph and Leo both looked impressed. They looked even more impressed when Jack tapped the other photo. “That’s Joanna.”
“Jesus Christ,” Raph muttered. “She’s so tiny! How the hell does a little elf-thing like that break a wood kendo sword?”
Mike leaned over. “Oh, wow, she’s cute.”
Don gave him a look.
“No, I mean she’s cute. Raph’s right, she looks like an elf. I think it’s the eyes.”
He ran a finger over the picture. The girl was sitting in what looked like the same booth. Jack must have gotten her to scoot away from Adam just enough for the shot. She looked about five feet, maybe an inch less, and if it wasn’t for the adult look on her face, Mike would have thought she was a teenager, especially since in this picture she was wearing kids’ size jeans and a white, long-sleeved stretch tee. Chocolate brown eyes, brown hair just past her shoulder blades, full mouth. From her face and his own psychic impressions he guessed her age to be twenty-one. Cute, but a little thin.
Jack glanced up. “He cooks, you know.”
“Huh?”
“You were thinking about how thin she is. Adam’s an amateur gourmet. So trust me, she eats. At least his food.”
Mike’s brow furrowed. “Is she--”
Sandra laughed a little. “You know, I asked the same thing, and they both gave me a funny look. She’s just small. I mean, it would help if she ate more, but...” She shrugged. “They’re a good pair.”
“One of the few who work so well together,” Jack added, and abruptly clamped his mouth shut.
“Oh?” Mike tilted his head.
Jack sighed. “Look, they’re not the only kids we have on file, but they’re two of the strongest. Like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well...remember when I said that she broke her sword when they were sparring? It’s a point of focusing energy, chi energy. I’m sure you guys do it all the time.”
“Constantly,” Leo grinned.
“It’s also a question of mental strength, not just simple focus. You’d have to meet them. Adam is like a supernova. Joanna’s aura is very open, very...bright. His energy is more like the heat of a sun, while hers is like the beam of a lighthouse, or a siren song. It attracts a lot of attention in the astral place. When one of them focuses their aura on a single thing, it can also be very destructive, or very...alternating.”
“They don’t really know it, though,” Sandra added. “At least Joanna doesn’t. We’ve had a lot of people over the years with a great deal of power and no control. Carrie White, for instance.”
Michaelangelo choked. The ghost with a thousand faces tapped him on the shoulder and grinned broadly.

It was a basement, but it would do for the moment.
He adjusted the patch to air it out, and went back to the files. Most of the photos were black and white. Akira with the two kids at the White Plains Diner. He remembered the failure with the last two.
That’s just it, they weren’t strong enough. Here we have two grown adults with enough power between them to destroy a city on all psychic levels.
In fact...
He opened another file. Several years ago, the boy—he had barely been a legal adult—had fought a demon in the wide hills of one of the peaks in Maryland. Not so much a demon in the religious sense as simply an entity of chaos and destructive tendencies. The blacklash of energy the boy had put out had sent a wave across the entire stretch of Montgomery County, and nearly every single empath in the area had felt it. Some of them attempted suicide. He was too powerful in his own right—too chaotic. Energy leaked from his shields no matter how tightly he wove them. And now this other one—this elf-child girl who had somehow restored a tarnished soul, more orderly, innocent. It was like the contrast of demon, chaos, and angel, order. She had no control, no concept, and inadequate shielding. And yet he had already sensed her power. Not so much in herself, but of an ability to harness energy, draw things toward her like a siren on a rocky shore. She radiated so brightly that demons and angels alike flocked around her aura.
With Carrie, it had been a small spark. With Tommy, bare potential. With Adam, though, with this powerful young man named Adam and his elf-siren lover...
Michaelangelo had escaped with his life, and Hatcher didn’t doubt he had gone for help. One of them was going to reach the kids. One or both. But Hatcher had decided long ago that he always got what he wanted.
Carrie White had been a failure. Her parents had been foolish. But here, there were no parents to intervene. These were legal adults.
Hatcher leaned his cheek into his hand, looking at the color photo of the girl, Joanna. She was very pretty. And she had no idea. Like a lot of the other kids in the files. If Adam ever brought her powers out, Hatcher sincerely hoped they would both be on his side.

“Michaelangelo? Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered through his hands. “I’m fine.”
Yeah right, the ghost said.
Shut up. Please.
He exhaled sharply, and Don touched his shoulder firmly. “You know, it’s not going to be a repeat. From the way things seem, I doubt we’ll even get to meet these two.”
“That’s not the point,” Mike said. “What if Hatcher finds them?”
“Well...”
“Look...” Mike stood up, hands pressed down on the table. “Jack, Sandra, I appreciate what you’re doing. I really do. I mean, I’m grateful. But you’ve just revealed some heavy loads. I’m not the only one out there. I thought it was a breakthrough when I met Carrie, and now I find out that there may be dozens of people out there...”
“Carrie was rare,” Sandra murmured. “I knew her parents. Okay? She was rare. Telekinesis in someone to that degree is almost unheard of. Adam, Joanna...most people right now are just empaths. Yes, Adam has been known to move things, to manipulate flame, to get inside people’s minds. But it doesn’t happen often; the capacity for most people to be truly psychic is as improbable as...as genetic mutation to your extreme.”
The turtles looked at each other, looked at her, looked at Jack.
“It’s a little different,” Jack added. “When we say these kids have power, it’s mostly power that doesn’t largely affect the physical world. Adam lives in an area of Maryland that’s home to a large amount of energy. A few years ago, he unleashed a wave of power from himself that literally wiped out any supernatural evidence in the entire county. The only physical thing it did was give a lot of people headaches, and maybe change a few rock formations, scar a few trees. Mike, it’s not like Hatcher could rule the world if he harnessed these kids. This isn’t some science fiction story. People just don’t have those abilities to that extreme.”
He spread his hands. “Look, here’s another example. Joanna goes to school in Westchester, and a lot of her friends there are powerful empaths. They can’t levitate cars and they can’t read minds. But they can sense things, psychic residue, like ghosts and fae and spirits. They can astral project. Jo is a siren. She naturally projects a large amount of power on a very high level, so it’s like a beacon. This means that not only does she pick up on things quickly, they also pick up on her. She’s like a tuning fork, so to speak. But everyone is different. Adam knows how to track and fight. Jo knows how to sense and pinpoint. And there is no way that John Hatcher, if he is still alive, could use them. They’re just not up to the power levels he wants. He’s an idealist megalomaniac, Mike. He’ll never have the power that you or Carrie had, but he’ll still hunt for it.”
Mike was shaking his head. “I don’t think you get it, dude. He doesn’t care. If there’s a way, he’ll do it. Look, I’m not saying I wanna find these two. Like you said, one of them lives three states away and the other one has school to worry about. I’m not gonna take their lives away from them, not like...I’m not going to get involved. Hatcher is my fight, okay? He’s mine.”
Sandra closed her eyes. “In that case,” she said, “I would recommend honing your skills. If you want to make sure Hatcher keeps away from these people, you have to learn how to hunt him.”
Mike looked at Jack, who nodded solemnly.
“Okay,” Mike said. “Hook me up.”

Back in the blue room, electrodes and wires and beeps. Dark, naturally, with sweeping lights and far-off voices. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
“No tests this time,” Sandra said in the microphone. “This is your time. Do what you have to. We’ll be here to back you.”
He took a deep breath, let it out. Instinctively held out his hand. The two photos were on the table, as he’d requested. He took both of them when they came to him and settled deeper into the chair.
The first rush of images was sharp, clear, blinding speed. A town, people, cars. There—a diner. White Plains Diner. But no, not there...not what he wanted. He turned, veering back and away, past the Westchester Mall, upward, through streets and around corners. Toward another mall, where—
He pulled up. There—focus—a single figure. Small, bundled in a black coat, brown hair loose in the wind. Her.
Mike felt a strong urge to reach out, touch her mind, just let her know someone was there, she was safe... He concentrated, sent out a light tendril...
Some sort of shield. Not completely hers. Bright and pulsing like a small sun. An overwhelming sense of love, in the true, pure form. There was a definite sense of a dragon, a beautiful blue-gray dragon, curled protectively around something small and shining. He found himself smiling.
It’s all right then. They’re three states away, but it’s all right. Hatcher doesn’t know what real love is. He can’t touch them.
He stayed close to her, right behind, walked with her toward the mall—and then she turned and looked right at him.
Right at him.
Brown eyes went very wide. He could make out every detail of her face, from the long lashes to the Audrey Hepburn jawline to the Roman nose. She sucked in a breath. Mike waited. She took a few steps backward, but there was no fear in her eyes. She was trying to find him. She was trying to— What are you?
Mike staggered. For someone with fragile shields, she had a powerful push. She knew. He backed off, tilted his head back, and aimed for the starting point. She could take care of herself. Hatcher wouldn’t touch her if he knew what was best for him.
As he started to leave, Mike noticed one more thing. In the astral plane, Joanna shone like a beacon, with a pair of pure white angel wings wrapped around her shoulders. He grinned. Nothing religious, just something there. She was a fae, soul-bound to a dragon. Adam may have his own wings, but at least he let her stretch her own. Mike could keep Hatcher away, then. No worries here.
Closing his eyes, Mike fell back and let himself be pulled back.

He opened his eyes.
Yawn, and a stretch, and then Jack’s voice. “Well?”
“It’s all good,” he said. I just wanted to check up on things. Hatcher’s still mine.”
“That’s good...I guess.”
He smiled. Angel and demon in perfect alliance. Who would have thought. “He can’t get all of them trust me. No matter how hard the bastard tries. I’m gonna seriously kick his ass.”
After Jack helped unhook him and they were back in the dining hall, Mike tossed the photos on the table. “They’re fine. Shouldn’t bother with them anymore. Carrie’s gone, and it’s just Hatcher we gotta worry about now.”
Leonardo raised an eyebrow. “So, can we help?”
Mike shrugged, half-smiled. “Sure. Help is good. Help’s always good.”

Back to the Shadow Rising page 1