Metal Angels - Part One: (A Supernatural Thriller Serial)

by D K Girl

  ‘The pilot has destination information,’ Blake said. ‘You’ll understand when you land. Just do what you do, but do it right now. Keep him away from here. No matter what you might hear. Understand? Leave now.’

  And she ended the call. Just hung up the damn thing without waiting to see if Kira understood. Which she didn’t. Not in the slightest. Kira stared down at the blank screen. Perry’s arrival went unnoticed until he was right beside her. Drink in hand.

  He handed it to her. ‘That didn’t look pleasant. Everything okay?’ Perry pulled something from his pocket. The faux skin for Kira’s arm. ‘Found it in the alleyway beside your car when I took out some trash. What did you and your special friend get up to out there?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

  Perry raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Considering your friend doesn’t look like he knows what his hands are for, let alone his dick, yes – kind of. Can he even understand English?’

  ‘Enough. He’s not from around here, clearly. I’m just making sure he has a good time while he visits.’

  Kira took the sleeve. It was, admittedly, bloody good. Freckles, veins, light hairs all so in sync with Kira’s real arm that it would take some very up-close-and-personal scrutiny to pick the deception. She hardly ever wore it; it felt too much like wearing a lie. Tonight though, the faux skin was perfect. She slid it over the armadillo, and it rolled into place as though it had a life of its own.

  ‘Perry, I need a favour. I need a lift to the airport.’ When his deep browns rolled, Kira cupped Perry’s face in her hands. ‘I swear I’ll work a week straight when I get back. You’ll be free as a bird. But I gotta get out of here.’

  ‘Again? You just got back.’

  ‘I’ve been back a couple of weeks. What do you want from me?’

  Perry grasped her wrists gently and tugged her hands from his face. ‘K, I know your dad’s birthday is coming up real soon –’

  Snatching her hands free, Kira took a step away from her friend. ‘What the fuck has that got to do with anything?’

  Christ. Right in the jugular. The room tilted. Of course she knew when her dad’s goddamn birthday was. It was like the black hole of dates. Dragging every other day towards it. The only day with a stronger gravitational pull was the day she had fucking killed him. Last day of stone-cold sobriety.

  ‘Everything, maybe?’ Perry shrugged, clasping his hands to his chest. ‘K, I’m sorry, but I gotta say something. When did you and Blake last spend it together? Any birthday for that matter?’

  ‘Perry, take me to the airport.’ Before she did something she regretted. Like smash her glass in his concerned, caring face. ‘Like right now.’

  A sudden break in the music draped the moment in odd silence. Perry’s dark eyebrows knitted together, and she thought for a moment he might refuse. If he said one more word about her shitty handling of grief, she was going to lose it. The dude had just crapped all over her happy place. Till now, she’d gone more than five minutes without thinking about her fucking dad.

  ‘K, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. You know I love you, right?’

  ‘We’re good. All good.’ Smile, damn it. Smile so bright your cheeks crack. ‘Airport?’

  ‘Sure. Yep. Give me five and I’ll get Alice to handle the bar.’

  Kira - 11

  Kira ran her thumb over the digital dial on the inhibitor bracelet, lowering the level by one more notch. Nothing screeched at her, no flashing red lights or anything, so that had to be a good sign. It had taken way too long to get robo-boy in behind the bar and halfway down the hallway.

  ‘Okay, how about that?’

  Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. But Az did lift his head higher and didn’t lean quite so hard. Kira adjusted her hold around him. Her flesh arm wrapped around a waist narrower than hers and as solid as a pillar of marble. ‘Right, let’s do this.’

  They passed through the storage room and past the gag-inducing odour of the staff toilet. Despite there being plenty of room in the hallway to walk side by side, Az’s hip pressed against hers as though they were magnetised. When they were almost at the back door, he lifted his hand, planting it over her flesh hand where it gripped his hip.

  ‘Oh no.’ Kira tried to pull away, bracing for the flip-out. ‘Not a good idea.’

  But the mini hysterics were a waste of time. Nothing, not even a spark this time. Azrael intertwined his slender fingers with her chubbier digits. No pain. Just warm skin. So the armadillo was some kind of conductor? Didn’t seem such a crazy idea, considering the metal hadn’t exactly been dug out of the nearest quarry. Azrael leaned into her. It was like being nudged by a brick wall. The guy was nothing if not solid. Kira tried to pull her hand free to open the back door, but Azrael wasn’t letting go anytime soon. She tried once more, gave up, and used her left arm to open the door and pull forward. Azrael planted himself on the spot like a pretty tree.

  ‘Door open, means walk through.’ Kira strained against him. ‘Basic exiting one-oh-one.’

  The temperature had slipped way down, the desert showing off its flexibility with a chilling flourish that swept through the open doorway. Her black leather-look pants were cutting it, but the twins were on high alert beneath the press of her ‘bandage’ wrap top. Perry’s car, a midsized SUV, was only a short distance down the alleyway, its ridiculously bright yellow body paint glowing in the dark. One step at a time, she coaxed Azrael down the three steps. He wasn’t coming easily. He didn’t say a thing – that would have just been weird – but it looked an awful lot as if he were shitting his pants. Kira considered downing the tranqs again; surely the thing would scream at her if she went too far.

  ‘Not sure what you’ve got to be scared about, dude.’ Kira grunted, muscles in her shoulder protesting as she pushed Az forward. ‘But this is going to be the longest night in the world if you are going to take this long to do anything.’

  Finally, sweet Jesus finally, he hit ground level and released the grip on her hand. Kira pulled her arm free, shaking her numb fingers. ‘Well, aren’t you so brave. Those nasty steps didn’t stand a chance.’

  The door, slow as all hell to close behind them, did so now with a firm clunk. Azrael froze, unmoving as the mannequin he resembled. The single light in the alleyway was pathetically dull, and shadows hugged everything in the narrow passageway.

  ‘Okay,’ Kira said. ‘You can do this, big, brave, silent one. Almost there. We’re going to get in that car there, see?’

  She turned to point out the car and jabbed her finger into the soft, squishy cheek of Tan Queen. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, are you insane?’

  ‘Sorry, sorry.’ The woman rubbed at her cheek, her stark-white hair like a ghost floating above her head. ‘I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I thought –’

  ‘Go away. Just go the hell away, woman.’

  Tan Queen muttered something, and before Kira could tell her to piss off again, she dashed right past her.

  ‘Hey, what the fuck?’ Kira shouted.

  The woman made a beeline for Azrael, and without so much as a how-do-you-do, she pushed up on her tiptoes and planted her hands squarely on Az’s chest. There was a weird frozen moment. No one moved. No one said a word. Then the sad alleyway light called it a day. Glass exploded, tinkling onto the ground. At the same moment, as if she’d been hit by flying shrapnel, the woman dropped. Heavy as a sack of potatoes, ass-first to the ground, flopping onto her back, skull meeting road with a cringe-inducing crack.

  Azrael staggered back, his fingers curled into claws. His mouth working open and shut as though he wanted to heave.

  ‘Shit,’ Kira said. ‘What the hell?’

  She crouched down beside the woman. Only the half-moon threw any light on the alleyway now, illuminating the tan queen’s white mop of hair. She groaned, her breathing rapid, as if she’d just finished a run. But alive.

  ‘Okay,’ Kira said. ‘Not dead.’

  She glanced up. Azrael’s line of sight was fixed on the pron
e woman. He raked his fingers down his arm, his head working back and forth as if he were Stevie Wonder belting out a tune.

  ‘Oh no, no, buddy. Not now.’ Kira approached him slowly, hands raised. Totally not the time for a panic attack. ‘Look at me. It’s okay. She’s okay. Oompa Loompa lady shouldn’t have touched you. I know.’

  Back and forth, back and forth, he rocked his upper body. Hands clutched to his midriff, shoulders hunched forward. Kira had seen it all before, but before there had been a solid panel of glass between them. Something that would come in very handy if he started to lash out.

  ‘Look at me, Az, not her. Hey, do you remember the video I showed you, where the cat is playing chopsticks with the chopsticks?’ She laughed, strained and humourless. ‘Like, it’s funny ’cause the song is called “Chopsticks”, but that’s what the cat is –’

  Light spilled across the scene.

  ‘Everything okay out here?’ Perry stepped through the open doorway, spotting the fallen woman. ‘What the hell happened?’

  Kira hesitated, her attention all on Azrael. Light from inside the pub pooled around him. He’d stopped rocking, and his arms rested at his sides. His focus lifted from the woman and moved to the slowly closing door. Azrael lifted his hand, tilting it back and forth as if it was the very first time he’d noticed it stuck to the end of his arm.

  ‘Kira, what is going on?’ Perry rushed past her, reaching the woman in three long strides.

  ‘She was like this when we came out.’ Kira grabbed at all the straws available to her. ‘Azrael got a little freaked about it. Don’t think he’s seen a rotten drunk before.’

  If she did say so herself, it was a magnificent display of thinking on one’s feet. Only a fraction of it was actually a lie.

  ‘Oh man, I’m going to call an ambulance.’ Perry grimaced. ‘This woman’s been hanging around here a lot lately, but this is the first time I’ve seen her legless. I’m going to take her inside. Your ride will have to wait.’

  ‘Can I have the keys?’ Kira said. ‘I’ll let you do the Good Samaritan thing, and we’ll wait in the car.’

  Perry tossed her the car keys and bent down to pick up the woman. She was short and could have done with a decent sandwich or two, so he managed easily. ‘Don’t do anything in my car I wouldn’t do.’

  ‘That ship sailed a year ago.’

  Kira held the door open for Perry so he could manoeuvre the woman inside. Her hair was a little messier, if that was possible, but she had no scratches, cuts, or gaping wounds. No bloody injuries. In Kira’s expert medical opinion, she’d be okay once she came to. The whole thing just a warped, drunken hallucination. Kira grabbed Azrael’s arm, tugging a couple of times before he left the circle of light. His drool face was back, and he stared down at the golden glow on the pavement as if it were a long-lost lover.

  Kira guided him to the car. Not so difficult this time. The dude was as keen to get out of there as Kira was. ‘Little over-reaction there buddy.’

  Going on the run was one thing, leaving people in unconscious piles was another altogether. She couldn’t keep attention away from him if he kept flooring people. For the first time since Blake had shooed them out of the Facility, Kira had some doubts.

  Getting Azrael back into the car was surprisingly easy. Maybe the dude was still in shock, maybe he thought the darkness wouldn’t get him in there. Whatever the reason, he hopped in as though he’d been getting into cars forever. He huddled into the corner, sitting at an angle that pressed his butt against the closed door, clutching at the back seat as if the whole car were about to shoot up into space. Not an intimidating sight. But the rocking and scratching had stopped. Good thing.

  Kira sighed, wishing she’d brought a drink for the road. ‘Shit, what have I gotten myself into?’

  Azrael’s hand was on her metal fingers before she took another breath. Contact was all hot wax on bare skin again, tingling nerves and hollow stomach. Pleasurable pain. Then came the jolt. A sharp snap of electricity crackled between the metals, and dropped to an uncomfortably pleasant tingle. The whole armadillo hummed beneath the faux skin, the echo of it playing with every nerve in Kira’s body. A groan lolled at the back of her throat, and her eyelids fluttered low.

  Azrael didn’t want to go back. He really, really didn’t want to go back to the Facility.

  The groan wedged itself halfway up her throat. She was afraid. No. Kira frowned. She wasn’t afraid at all.

  He was. Terrified.

  The fear weaved through her, coarse and vibrant.

  Kira jerked her hand free, and the groan caught in her throat morphed into a cry. Eyes wide open, she met Azrael’s steady emerald gaze.

  ‘Az, you poor bastard,’ she whispered.

  He was alive in there. She’d felt him there, buried beneath the metalwork. Kira flexed her metal fingertips. They were still tingling. The whole limb was too-near-the-campfire warm. Holy shitballs. If she wasn’t very much mistaken, she’d just slam-dunked into Azrael’s psyche. A living, pulsing thing.

  The dude wasn’t a robot. Not even close. Fucking hell, Blake. Azrael still watched her. Whatever it was behind those eyes, watched her. Maybe she should be shitting herself, but the only one doing that right now was Az. And the idea of that pissed her off. Way more than it should do.

  ‘I hate that fucking place too,’ Kira said, voice raspy. ‘You’re not going back there.’

  For the time being, they would play Blake’s game. Azrael slumped back against the seat, chin dropping to his chest. Kira didn’t have the advantage of a hot-and-heavy connection this time, but she was going to go out on a limb and say he looked relaxed.

  A few minutes later, Azrael appeared to have drifted off to sleep. Eyes closed. His posture a little awkward, like a toddler who’d just fallen asleep halfway through playing. Completely damn adorable. And if anyone came near the guy, she’d cut them. Kira shook her head, dislodging the sudden thought. For fuck’s sake, what had been in that champagne? She shifted out of the back seat and hopped into the passenger seat, needing to put a little distance between them.

  Perry returned about fifteen minutes later. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. ‘All good here?’

  Peachy. ‘Yeah. All good.’ She massaged her bare feet, boots and socks discarded in the footwell. ‘How’s the patient?’

  ‘She’s going to feel like hell tomorrow. Wasted off her tits. And she’s got a great bump on the head. They’re taking her away now, but she’s not too happy about it.’

  So it really was all good. No permanent damage to anyone. Nothing to see here. Everyone move along. Kira danced her feet against the mat in the footwell.

  ‘So where are we going?’ Perry revved the engine a couple of times, and the car tried to rattle its exhaust pipe loose.

  ‘If you think we can make it, the airport on Lancaster.’

  ‘Is he attracted to your smart mouth?’ Perry nodded his head at Azrael.

  ‘Of course. Can’t get enough of my mouth in general.’

  ‘Where you guys flying to?’

  ‘Good question,’ Kira replied and changed the topic, quizzing Perry about his lack of love or sex life. The discussion, mostly Perry telling her not to be a bitch, killed the next twenty minutes of driving.

  Then she was air-kissing her bestie and waving sweet goodbye. ‘Bye bye, bitch.’

  ‘Later, slut.’ Perry blew her a kiss, wearing a grin from ear to ear. ‘Miss you already.’

  As his car roared to life, and there was no chance he’d hear, Kira replied, ‘You too.’

  Goodbyes should be illegal. They were hazardous to health.

  A perfectly coiffed cabin attendant guided them onto the snow-white private jet, handing Kira a whisky and milk after she took her seat. Giving the girl a smile that usually parted legs, Kira nodded to the cockpit.

  ‘So, I love surprises and all, but now that we’re on board can you fill me in? Where are we off to?’

  Warm brown eyes bright, t
he girl smiled back at her. ‘Bankston Airport, about three hours flight. Do you know it?’

  Kira shook her head.

  ‘It’s a small regional airport between Beleiro and Melgrove.’

  The smile slipped from Kira’s face. ‘Okay, thanks.’

  The attendant backed off, muttering something about readying the cabin for takeoff, leaving Kira alone with a bunch of angry, churning thoughts. Beleiro was a bawdy, overelectrified casino town Kira knew well, but it was the much smaller town of Melgrove that made her stomach churn. Kira stared down at the shoes Blake had put on Azrael. Blake had walked out halfway through their dad’s funeral declaring herself too occupied with putting Kira back together again to waste time with mourning. She’d barely mentioned their father since. Now all this. The shoes and the town of Melgrove. The backwater town with great fishing and even better pubs, where they were supposed to have had a weekend away to celebrate Kira’s twenty-first. But Blake had been MIA on that trip, too busy working at the Facility to join Kira and their dad. Just as she had been a year later. Too caught up to go to dinner the night a blown tyre and a fucking great tree had ripped a hole in their lives.

  The attendant offered Azrael a blanket. He stared at her like she’d offered to castrate him.

  ‘He’s fine. I’ll take it though.’ Kira spread the white cashmere over her knees, nestling into the cushy leather seat, the heat of the whisky blooming in her stomach. Kira drained the glass. Azrael was transfixed by the view through the window. The attendant refilled Kira’s empty glass without a word, and in one gulp it was gone, too. Azrael had better be worth it. Their father was so damn proud of anything his eldest child did, Blake could have shit on his birthday cake and he’d have clapped his hands and said how wonderful it was. He’d had no idea of the scope of what went on at the Facility. No idea about the aliens in the basement. Blake had only brought Kira into the fold after the accident. Like doing the big reveal somehow made it all better. Negated the fact that Kira wouldn’t have been driving at all if Blake had gone to pick up their dad from the station like she’d promised.