I, Angel

by JC Andrijeski

  Her expression looked worried, but not afraid exactly.

  “I should go first,” Dags added, still studying her face. “You and the others wait here. I’ll go down and take a look. I won’t be long⏤”

  That time, Asia spoke up.

  She’d moved closer, too, so that she was directly behind Phoenix.

  “No,” she whispered, insistent. “No way, Angel-guy. You’re the one who said it wasn’t safe for us to be alone out here. Anyway, we’ve come this far. We’re all in this together now. So we all go down together.”

  Dags frowned.

  He glanced at Phoenix, who met his gaze, shrugged.

  “She’s not wrong,” Phoenix told him.

  Dags’ frown deepened.

  He couldn’t exactly argue, though.

  He motioned for Phoenix and Asia to get behind him.

  Scowling, Karver got behind Asia.

  Pushing on the branch to widen the opening, Dags slipped through, entering the odd cathedral inside the tree. He just stood there, holding the branch and looking around while the other three squeezed their way inside the canopy of the tree, following him.

  Dags felt fingers on his arm and turned.

  “I can’t see anything,” Phoenix whispered behind him. “Can you see, Dags?”

  “A little,” he admitted. “Not great. But hold onto me. Have Asia and Karver hold on to each other, too. We might have to go down there like this.”

  Looking around, Dags found the dog with his eyes.

  “Steve McQueen… stay. Stay here,” he told him in a whisper.

  The dog whimpered softly, looking at the door leading under the tree.

  Clearly Steve McQueen knew where they were going.

  Clearly, the blue-eyed, wolf-looking dog didn’t like it one bit.

  “It’ll be okay,” Dags said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ll be back soon.”

  Steve McQueen whined again, wagging his tail and looking anxious, but in the end, after pacing back and forth nervously a few times, he sat on his haunches and watched Dags, his ears pricked forward.

  Exhaling, Dags turned back to face the white doorway.

  He felt his muscles tense instinctively as he began to move towards it.

  Phoenix’s fingers tightened on his arm, and Dags looked over his shoulder, past her dark head to the other two, making sure they were holding on to one another, since they clearly couldn’t see. Asia was holding Phoenix’s hand. Karver held Asia’s, that scowl still darkening his features.

  Dags couldn’t blame him really.

  He could only imagine how crazy this looked from the outside.

  Even beyond the crazy, this was starting to feel like a really dumb idea.

  He’d brought nothing with him. No weapons.

  He didn’t even have a sharp rock.

  Taking a breath, Dags ventured forward anyway.

  He told himself it was too late to turn back now.

  He walked cautiously to the white stone doorway, and after the barest pause, he passed through the narrow opening.

  Immediately, he was plunged into darkness.

  This time, it wasn’t just darkness for regular people; it was darkness for Dags, too. He couldn’t see anything, not even the walls of white stone on either side of the door’s opening. From outside, he’d been able to see the first two stairs at the very top, right by the edge of the door, but now he couldn’t see those either.

  He came to a stop.

  He wondered again if this was a really bad idea.

  He needed to come back here alone. Armed with a sword, a torch, maybe a semi-automatic pistol⏤at least a cell phone with a light on it, and maybe a library book on how to exorcize demons.

  He was about to back up, to tell them he’d changed his mind, that this wasn’t going to happen tonight⏤

  ⏤when light erupted from below, shining from something he couldn’t see at the bottom of the stairs. The light curled liquidly up towards them, glowing and flickering on the white stone, illuminating a steep passageway leading into the earth.

  The light was blood red.

  Behind him, Dags heard Phoenix give a light gasp, right before she gripped his arm.

  “Do you see that?” she whispered to Dags.

  He nodded, glancing back at her.

  He didn’t even think to look at the others.

  “Should we go in?” he said, doubtful. “I don’t know if this is a good idea anymore.”

  She blinked, as if surprised he wanted her opinion. As her surprise faded, her mouth firmed. She nodded, her eyes going a few shades darker.

  “Yes,” she said. “They said we had to hurry. Or it would be too late.”

  Dags hesitated.

  In the end, though, he had to concede her point.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Turning back towards the stairs, he began to descend.

  Chapter 31

  Enemy

  It seemed to take forever to get to the bottom.

  It got hotter as they went down, too.

  By the time they’d made it halfway to the bottom, Dags was sweating, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, feeling a creeping claustrophobia.

  Phoenix was holding his hand now, not his arm, probably because it was easier on the steep stairs. Her fingers were hot, sweating in his, but she didn’t loosen her hold; if anything, it got tighter the longer they walked.

  When he finally reached the bottom, he glanced back over his shoulder.

  There was a curve in the tunnel at the bottom of the stairs, and the heat felt worse down here.

  “You can still go back if you want,” he said, blunt, turning to look at all of them.

  Asia and Karver looked at one another, then back at Dags.

  Asia’s eyes were unnaturally wide, nearly swallowing her face. She was sweating, her long, dark hair stuck to her neck and forehead. She’d lowered her hoodie and unzipped the front, but she still looked like she’d hung out in a sauna with all of her clothes on.

  “No,” she said. “No. We’re coming.”

  Dags hesitated, then nodded.

  He’d more or less known she’d say that.

  “Stay behind me,” he growled.

  He didn’t look at Phoenix, but gripped her hand tighter, and she moved closer to where he stood. He felt Karver notice, saw a frown touch the lips of that irritatingly handsome face, but Dags tried to ignore that.

  Right now, whatever was going on with Phoenix and Karver, and him and Phoenix, was the least of all of their problems.

  Facing the new segment of tunnel, he began to walk.

  He continued to move warily, his body in a fighter’s crouch as he made his way past the curve and into a shorter tunnel. There was another curve at the end of that, this time to the right.

  Then Dags could see the pulsing red light directly in front of them.

  He walked towards it, feeling his jaw and muscles clenching.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, the space opened up.

  Dags found himself in a huge, underground chamber, staring up at high, domed ceiling, a smooth floor, rounded walls, all of it made of the same white stone. Two different altar-like structures stood on either side of the room, one only a few yards from the entrance to the tunnel, the other on the opposite side of the round chamber.

  The second altar was bigger, and consisted mostly of a heavy-looking table, with a low, arched doorway in front of it.

  That doorway seemed to lead directly into the earth.

  Dags looked around for the source of the light, but couldn’t find it.

  He was still standing there when he realized the light might come from the air itself. Every particle inside the round, high-ceilinged chamber glowed. He’d assumed that was some kind of bizarre reflection, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  He was still staring around, looking at the two altars, noting the hieroglyphics around the rim of the ceiling, the odd human forms depicted on the walls, like frescos from an ancient city preserved
in volcanic ash⏤

  When something spoke.

  You come to us willingly. You come here, after you awaken alone. You even bring your mate. The voice swirls around him, echoes of echoes. What is it you wish of us, Kills Many? How may we help you?

  Dags spoke out loud.

  “What is this place?” he said, infusing his words with the angel fire.

  The light particles vibrated, throwing off more light.

  Dags frowned, realizing the air seethed with presence.

  That presence mixed with an underlying confusion of sound that crept up on Dags’ awareness gradually. Once he let it in, once he really let himself hear it, he wondered if he’d been hearing it since they began descending the stairs.

  Whatever caused it, it reminded Dags of the distant roar of a fire.

  Or perhaps it came closer to a faraway crowd⏤the low, thunder-like rumble of hundreds of voices, from a great distance away.

  Dags was about to try again, when the voices answered.

  It has always been here, they murmured. It has been here since the beginning. The beginning of the beginning. When the humans first came.

  Dags frowned, glancing around at the vibrating air.

  “What is it?” he said.

  You already know what it is. The voice grew and split into many voices, voices overlapping, echoing, discordant. A door. A portal. A way through. A gateway to the other side. It is the fulcrum between worlds. A wrinkle in the fabric.

  Dags felt his jaw slowly clench as the thing spoke.

  “Did you open it?” he said. “Did you open this portal?”

  No. Only the winged can open it. Only the winged can close it. Only the winged determine who passes through.

  Dags fought to wrap his mind around the creatures’ words.

  Maybe he did understand. Maybe he just didn’t want to.

  “Do you mean me?” Dags growled finally. “Are you saying I opened it? When I went through the Change?”

  The air seethed, silent.

  The discordant voices rose again, like murmurs in Dags’ mind.

  It is not for us to say. It is not for us to know. We serve the winged. We are not the winged ourselves. We know only that the door was closed. We know only that the door was opened. We prepare for the winged. We await their return⏤

  “Who are you talking to?” Phoenix whispered, squeezing his hand.

  Dags jumped, startled.

  “You can’t hear that?” he said, staring at her. “You can’t hear them speak?”

  When Phoenix shook her head, Dags looked at Asia, who shook hers even more vehemently. Karver just stared at him, like he was now one hundred percent certain Dags was a serial killer who’d brought them here to murder them.

  Frustrated, Dags turned back towards the glowing light.

  “Why was I told to come here?” he growled, louder. His jaw clenched briefly, hard enough to hurt. “If this is about me, why was I told to bring her⏤”

  The voices cut him off, a soft whisper through his words.

  He wanted you here. He wanted you to come. He thought she would bring you. He did not expect you to bring her. You awakened. You awakened too soon.

  Dags felt his chest clench.

  He opened his mouth to ask, then closed it again.

  “How do I close this?” he said after a beat, motioning a hand at the altar. “How do I close the door? Keep anything else from coming through?”

  It is not for us to say, the voices whispered. You are Kills Many. We are The Thousand. That is our nature. Our nature is unchangeable. As is yours, unchangeable.

  Dags frowned.

  He didn’t even try to make sense of that mess.

  “Am I the winged?” he asked instead. “Am I one of those beings you spoke of? Who can open or close the door?”

  The light seethed, silent.

  “Are you my enemy?” Dags asked.

  The light shimmered, rippling around him like a living thing. Dags recoiled, grimacing and stepping back when he felt it touch his skin.

  What is enemy? the voices murmured. You are He Who Kills Many. You are enemy. You are friend. There is only what we are. There is only what you are. It is unchangeable. The war as old as time.

  Dags felt his jaw harden.

  “Are we on opposite sides of that war?” Dags growled.

  Opposite. Not-opposite. Friend. Enemy. You are He Who Kills Many. It is why he wants you, why he seeks and seeks⏤

  “Who wants me?”

  Your brother.

  “Brother.” Dags frowned. “I don’t have a brother. What’s his name?”

  He has many names. He has no name. He looks for you, but you are awakened. The path to you winds differently now. It is longer, more difficult.

  “Riddles,” Dags grunted. “Awesome.”

  He found he liked the glowing light less and less. He felt it vibrating around him, sliding over and into his skin like it was contaminating him, like the presence itself formed a toxic sludge, seeping into his flesh.

  He turned his head, staring at the three people with him.

  Phoenix was sweating, eyes wide, her skin overly pale.

  She was breathing too hard, staring around at the light-filled chamber as if bracing for an unseen attack⏤or maybe like the light itself was making her sick. There was a kind of desperate fear in her eyes that tugged at Dags’ heart.

  Forcing his eyes off her face, he looked at Asia, then Karver.

  Neither of them looked like Phoenix.

  Those two looked almost stoned. Eyes glazed, they stood there like someone had slipped them both thorazine since the last time he’d glanced over.

  Looking back at Phoenix, Dags realized she could feel what he could feel. Maybe not consciously, but she could feel it, on some level at least.

  She was also fighting it.

  Despite how calm they both looked, Asia and Karver might actually be in worse shape. They might not be able to feel the presence well enough to even try and fight it off.

  “We need to get out of here,” he said.

  He squeezed Phoenix’s hand, bringing her eyes to his.

  “We need to get them out of here. Now,” he told her, motioning with his jaw towards Karver and Asia. “I don’t think they’re doing well.”

  Phoenix followed the jerk of his chin to her boyfriend and her best friend. She stared at their faces, one by one, and Dags saw her understand.

  “What about this place?” she said, still staring at her two friends. “We can’t just leave it like this, can we?”

  “No.” Dags shook his head. “We can’t.”

  He realized he was talking loudly, almost shouting, and that Phoenix was, too.

  They were both trying to talk over that burning, buzzing, static sound.

  Whatever it was, it seemed to be growing louder.

  “You go,” he said next, still loud. “You take them back above-ground. I’ll deal with whatever this is.”

  Phoenix shook her head, going even paler. “They said I had to be here,” she reminded him. “They said I had to come.”

  “We don’t even know if we can trust whoever that was, Phoenix,” he said exasperated. “What if it was a trap? What if they lured both of us down here?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it, her lips firming. He could see from her expression she was conceding his point.

  “What does your gut say?” she said finally. “Do I need to be here, Dags?” Pausing, letting him think for a beat, she added, “Tell the truth. You’re not protecting me if you lie. You’re just prolonging this.”

  Dags nodded, knowing she was right. He thought about her question, trying to feel the truth. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I really don’t. My gut tells me they were telling the truth, but I have no idea what they were. They might not be on our side⏤”

  A laugh broke into his thoughts.

  It didn’t come from any of the three people he’d brought into the cave.

  It wasn
’t the presence in the light, either.

  He felt Phoenix jump, knew she’d heard it, too.

  Looking up, he tried to follow the sound, seeking out the source with his eyes. Even so, he flinched when she first walked out from behind the larger of the two marble altars. She made her way casually across the stone floor, her high-heels clicking until they stopped in the middle of the round room, directly in front of the doorway that led into the earth.

  She smiled at him, and Dags stared, thrown.

  It was Veronica, Phoenix’s housekeeper and assistant in Malibu.

  It was Veronica, and she was aiming a gun right at his head.

  Chapter 32

  The Reckoning

  Veronica stood there, smiling.

  She seemed to be enjoying watching Dags and Phoenix wrap their heads around her being there, in an underground lair under the Hollywood sign.

  “She’s possessed,” Phoenix said, her voice panicked. “She’s like Jason Tig… and Karver last night…”

  Veronica’s smile widened.

  Dags only frowned. Studying the housekeeper’s eyes, her sparking red and orange aura, he slowly shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

  His eyes remained on Veronica.

  “It was you,” he said. “You opened it.”

  Veronica laughed. That laugh vibrated the glowing air, making it hotter and brighter. She had so much of that light inside her, Dags almost couldn’t tell them apart.

  “You are one of the winged?” Dags said, his mouth still hard. “The voices said only the winged can open the door⏤”

  “I did not open the door,” she told him, that smile still pulling at her lips. “And no, I am not what you think, although we are related, cousin. I am a Watcher.”

  Dags frowned.

  He tried to recall the books he’d read when he first went through the Change, all the hours and hours of reading he’d done, trying to make sense of what happened to him.

  “That is an angel though, right?” he said after that pause. “Aren’t the Watchers fallen angels?”

  Veronica exhaled, her voice and expression growing almost bored.

  “As usual, the humans get everything either half-right, or not right at all,” she said.