by Skyler Andra
Seventh Heaven! What was happening to him? I wanted to reach out to him but couldn’t. My stomach cramped, making me hunch over and blurt an agonizing moan.
Something about the lyrics, the music, the frequency the song emitted harmed us. Somehow it contained a darkness equivalent to being in the presence of Lucifer. I lifted my shaking hands to cover my ears, but that didn’t protect me from the vibrations stemming from the cell phone, cutting through me like thousands of knives.
“Welcome me with open arms,” the man rasped. “Fall for my black charms...”
Uri leaned forward, snapping up his cell phone, ending the music ended it before the singer issued the last of the hideous words Reg the homeless man had warned us of.
“That crap was the devil incarnate.” He tossed his phone on another seat. “Pure Luc. Listening to it made my grace want to split apart and explode.”
“I never want to hear that again!” I shouted, gasping and holding my aching chest as it pumped with heavy breaths.
“You okay?” Uri croaked, pulling me onto his lap and into his arms.
I clasped his face in my hands, observing the dark circles and red lines fade while his skin and lips return to their normal, healthy glow. I threaded my arms around his neck, leaning on him for support, to keep myself from crumbling into a hundred pieces.
My grace still thudded and rolled to the phantom vibrations of the music. Darkness dragged its claws down the inside of my ribcage, threatening that if I didn’t set it free, there’d be hell to pay.
If this was how the music affected me, I could barely imagine what it might do to the humans if they heard it playing on the radio or their devices.
14
Zadkiel
“Man, that smells like an orgasm,” Mike said as he entered Uri’s apartment ahead of me.
He was right. Whatever Uri cooked smelled incredible and my body needed it after dealing with that rat.
I chuckled. “If your orgasms smell like bacon, you’re doing it wrong.”
“Fuck you, man,” Mike shot. “I know what I’m doing.”
Jojo crossed to greet us. Hot damn she was sexy. I slid my eyes over her body, long and curvy, remembering the first time I fucked her. So pure and innocent. Tasted fantastic, like heaven. Fucking amazing for someone that had never done it before.
Her eyes landed on the folded plans I’d brought back from the rat’s apartment. “Find anything?”
I glanced over her shoulder. Plates, utensils, and glasses and whatever Uri had cooked for us awaited us on the set table.
“How about we tell you over dinner,” Mike suggested.
“Fuck yes, I’m starving!” I cried, making Jojo cringe at the harshness of my word. I slid an arm around her waist, leading her to the table to sit on my lap to take my mind off how shit I felt.
“Coming right up.” Uri departed for the table. “Hope you like your meat extra charred.”
“Fuck, not again.” My stomach heaved at the idea. The last time Jojo had cooked for us, it had been too much for my system. All the alcohol and crap inside came up and out.
“I resent that.” She smacked Uri in the chest as he passed her.
Her hand lingered for a little too long. Flirting with him. My chest stung with a flash of jealousy when it had no right to. I’d staked no claim over her. I didn’t want to get serious with her. Nope. Not going down that track. Too much heartbreak.
Later I’d pull her aside. Maybe we’d take a bath together. Reignite that sexual spark between us. My dick was dying for a good ride with her. As long as I got what I wanted I was happy.
Uri revealed the roast pork and vegetables. Hell yes!
“Sit with me, beautiful,” I told her, and she did, receiving an odd look from Uri. Annoyance. Jealousy. Right back at you pal. I’d been around ugliness all day and wanted something beautiful to look at besides his or Mike’s mugs.
Uri carved up the meat with a viciousness that implied he wanted to hack at my flesh. Confirmed my suspicions all right. Had something happened between them? Was he crushing on her? Did they have sex? Whatever his beef was, I almost laughed in his face. I wasn’t in the mood and didn’t give a shit. Not when my stomach demanded feeding.
“Smells good, brother.” Mike collected a knife and fork, ready to tuck in.
Uri stabbed at my pieces of meat with a fork and slashed at them with his knife to get them off the prongs.
Okay buddy. Settle down there.
He glared at me opposite the table with a pissed off vibe as if I’d taken his lady away from him. Tut tut. He was going to have to learn to share, because I wasn’t giving her up anytime soon, and I’m pretty sure Mike wasn’t either. We’d come to a stalemate on that.
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Jojo said, more interested in our news than the food.
Mike could do the honors because my stomach was about to go on strike if I didn’t eat.
“My contact tipped us off about a lead on Raff,” Mike explained, slicing up his food into precise chunks of meat and vegetable, ready to shove in his mouth. “We visited the address and found a rat wearing Raff’s bracelet.”
Uri frowned. “The one Ariel gave us all?”
Mike nodded as he chewed on a bite before continuing. “Inside the rat’s apartment we found plans for a concert and an advertising pamphlet with Raff’s symbol on it.”
I cocked a mocking eyebrow at the use of the word ‘we.’ Always taking the glory. Fuck you, Mike. I found those plans because of my hunch. Glaring at him, I paused mid-chew and hunted through the pile of plans I’d taken, pulling out the flyer.
Uri snatched it, his eyes flicking left and right as he read it.
“We’re not sure what it all means yet,” Mike indicated.
Uri scratched the back of his neck. “About the concert... we might have our own lead on it.”
I stared at him, wanting clarification.
Mike shifted to face him, stuffing some potato in his mouth.
“You know the guy from the homeless shelter?” Jojo asked Mike. “The one who said strange things to me?”
“Yeah,” Mike replied between munching on his meal.
“We went to visit the homeless congregation under the bridge to find him,” Uri explained.
Oh fuck. I leaned back in my chair, preparing for Mike to blow a gasket.
“You went where?” Mike’s glower signaled the lecture on morality to follow. “That’s dangerous. Reckless. You know better than that. Consult with me first next time before you do something so foolish.”
Uri put his utensil’s down. His neck reddened with irritation. They didn’t always see eye to eye. It was Mike’s continual rejection of Uri’s counter ideas that led to the schism in the group. If Mike didn’t pull back, I had a feeling we were headed for another one.
“You don’t tell me what to do Mike, remember?” Uri’s normally cheerful tone rose into a threat.
Mike ran a flat hand over the surface of his knife as if he wanted to stick it in Uri’s hand for speaking to him like that in front of the new recruit. After all, Jojo still had to learn her place. Mike was the boss and that was it as far as he was concerned. If she didn’t like it she could go with Uri and the others. But I doubt she’d let the team split up again after the Most High’s new orders. While Mike had eroded away the ties that bound the angels together, Jojo had somehow regrouped us, gluing us back together.
“It was my idea.” Jojo’s voice sharpened as if challenging Mike. I leaned back amused. She’d been standing up to him a lot lately and I liked it. Sexy as hell. “I was going to go whether he came or not.”
Feisty. That just dialed up her hotness factor by a scale of one hundred.
Poor Uri, being dragged down there. What a pussy. Totally under Jojo’s thumb already if he was willing to navigate that stinking filth. No woman was ever going to hold me like that.
Once more, Mike ran a flat hand over the surface of his knife, not looking at either of them. “You need more t
raining before you face rats like that alone.”
“They weren’t demons,” Jojo corrected him.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not safe.”
Her face flushed red. “I can handle myself.”
I made an amused ‘o’ with my mouth and breathed out slow and long. Shit was about to hit the fan. My darkness relished it in a twisted way.
Mike’s jaw tensed. “I don’t tolerate insubordination from my warriors, is that understood?”
For a moment Jojo tucked her head as if backing down. Then she jabbed at her meat. “We found a clue that correlates with what you’ve found. Do you want to know about it or not?”
Fuck me. What happened to the sweet and innocent angel? I think I liked this side of her much better. I gave her knee a squeeze under the table.
“I do,” I interjected, jumping in before Mike said something he regretted to break up the group again or make a real dick of himself. The guy needed to get his ego in check. I know, I know. He was our leader. But he also needed to learn humility. To listen to his troops.
“Well, we found the homeless man,” Jojo added, her voice curt.
“Total weirdo,” Uri cut in fast as if wanting to keep Mike out of the conversation. “Acted sane one moment and not with it the next.”
Mike pushed out of his chair, storming into the kitchen to grab a beer. He drank the whole bottle with the fervor of a man who wanted to punch someone to calm down.
Jojo shot him a concerned look as if she felt guilty. “The man’s eyes flashed white. They did the same thing at the homeless shelter.”
White. Fucking creepy if you asked me. Like when the eyes of those rats really infected by Luc’s plague darkened to match his filth. But this homeless guy was no prophet of the Most High, even if the opposite made him heavenly.
“You sure his eyes didn’t roll back in his head?” I clarified.
“No way.” Uri’s tone changed when addressing me. Sharp and short. Like he saw me as competition.
Whatever dude. Have her. I was content to pass her around. She didn’t belong to me.
“If he was having some sort of fit,” Uri said, “he’d have passed out or something, and not been able to communicate.”
Jojo supported this claim with a nod. “We asked him about the Angel’s Blood of which he spoke about at the homeless shelter.”
“It’s one of the bands on the flyer you brought back.” Uri pointed out their name on the piece of scrunched paper. “The headline act.”
Jojo huddled closer to the table, putting her elbows on it, one hand rubbing at the top of her clenched fist. “Gabriel mentioned Luc planned a concert before she died.”
Fuck me. This couldn’t be a coincidence. My fucking angel senses were crawling to find out what it all meant, and how it connected to Raff and the rat. I pulled out his bracelet, turning it over in my fingers.
At the mention of Gabe’s name, Mike grabbed another beer, finishing it and dumped the bottle on the counter. He brought four more back from the kitchen, setting them in the middle of the table. Nothing like the mention of a dead comrade to bring him down from his arrogant throne in the sky.
I nodded and took one. Uri snatched one with a grunt. Jojo left hers unopened.
“I’d forgotten about that.” Pausing, Mike sat down to consume half his beer in one go. “Fuck me for not realizing sooner.”
Luc, damn his soul, was the archangel of light and music. I had no doubt he was behind this concert. Genius really. The perfect way for him to amass thousands of unaware young adults to brainwash them and infect them with his ludicrous agenda.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mikey.” I clapped him on the shoulder.
Mike twisted his bottle in his hand. “Use that name again and I’ll jam you up the ass with this bottle.”
Jojo made a disgusted sound in her throat. Hot damn. I know what kind of disgusting things I’d like to do with her throat. God, she had so much to learn. I’d be happy to teach her.
“So, on the positive side,” Mike continued, picking at the label on his bottle, “Now we have proof of Gabe’s intel. But we need to know what Luc’s agenda is if we are to formulate a plan to counter them.”
Talk about preaching. Mike, trying to stay positive, would give himself a little pep talk. But it wasn’t working for me. Let’s face it; we were fucked. Luc grew stronger by the day. Something about this concert told me that he would acquire even more power courtesy of a mass infection.
“Yeah and on the shit side,” I added wanting to kick myself for acting in haste. “I just cleansed the rat who claimed he was organizing the event. Now Luc will know we interfered.”
I let the gravity of that sink in.
Jojo’s brows pressed together with worry.
“You need to listen to this.” Uri extracted his phone from his pocket. “It’s the Angel’s Blood song. The band’s releasing it tomorrow ahead of the concert.”
He played it. Dark death metal crap always gave me a headache because how shit it was. When it got to the chorus, Mike, Uri, and Jojo all gagged and hunched over, clutching their stomachs. Somehow the music affected them, but not me. My darkness seemed to give me immunity to it. Not a good sign for purging the darkness from my grace. But maybe it could prove to be an advantage—get me closer to the music or concert without the side effects.
Uri fucking kept torturing them by continuing to play the goddamn song though. Jojo cupped her ears and rocked. Mike turned green, his fingers clawing the knife as if he wanted to stab it through the phone.
I had enough and growled, “Turn it off.” Snatching up the phone, I ended their misery.
I let them recover for a moment. In the meantime, I rubbed Jojo’s back and gradually she sat up straight again.
Mike’s lips thinned into a grim line. “We need to stop that concert.”
“And prevent that single from being released to the masses,” Uri added.
Great ideas.
“Tomorrow Zak and I will investigate the concert,” Mike advised.
“What about us?” Uri asked, tapping the bottle impatiently. “We could track down the band. Kidnap them. Stop them from doing press interviews. That might stop the release.”
Mike adopted a confrontational stance. “Find some hole in the event planning. Some way to stop the event. Report a violation of event code to the Sterling City Council to get them to revoke the permit.”
“That might take us a while to investigate,” Uri replied with a scornful snort. “Time we don’t have.”
I agreed. The concert was in two days. Government departments were slow as hell. They probably pocketed the concert permit fees and rental of the city’s stadium. I doubt they’d be willing to cancel the event this late in the game.
Plus, millions listened to new songs on YouTube. Add radio play into the mix and we had ourselves a cocktail of explosive darkness.
“Find a way,” was all Mike said.
15
Michael
After dinner Jojo pulled out a packet of cards and asked, “Want to play a game?”
I stood up from the table and announced, “I’ve got some business to attend to. I’ll be back late.”
Uri and Zak nodded, asking no questions.
I left without another word.
She met me in the hallway by the door, calling out behind me, “Where are you going?”
“Meeting another contact.” Fuck, I hated lying to her.
A crease crossed her brow. She knew I wasn’t telling the truth. The purity of her grace detected it.
I had to go. We were getting low on resources. Thrown into a world with nothing but my grace, my wits, and my warfare knowledge, it was up to me to figure out the rest. And this outing was my way of increasing them.
Plus, I was still pissed at the way Jophiel had addressed me at the dinner table. Absolute disrespect and defiance—something I expected from Zak and tried to curb. Hers was probably encouraged by her newfound friendship with Uri. I was n
ot going to have my new recruit, my lover, challenge my authority. The Most High charged me to lead, not her, not Zak, and least of all Uri. My decision was final. In the bedroom, behind closed doors, she could hit me, hurt me, call me any dirty name she wanted. But not in front of the others. Full stop.
I had nothing more to say to her and moved closer to open the door.
She slid between it and me. “Something wrong?” she asked, studying me.
“I didn’t appreciate the way you addressed me earlier.” I held her stare, waiting for her to look away.
A boldness entered her expression, the lifting of her chin, head back. Each day her confidence increased as she learned more about the world. But she needed to learn her place, to respect my decisions and not argue with them.
She shook her head in frustration. “You weren’t listening.”
“You weren’t obeying orders.”
She sighed and looked down.
Yes, I was stubborn. Impossible sometimes. The responsibility of leadership, making decisions, and the safety of my warriors fell to me. I couldn’t just agree to everything. Risk had to be weighed. Consequences had to be considered, efforts that lead to the best outcome assessed. I made my decisions based on millennia of experience, countless wars, challenges, difficulties, and unexpected twists. Things Jojo knew nothing of. She still had much to learn in that area.
“You and Uri lead with your hearts, not your heads.” I pressed my hand over her grace. “Jumping into slights of fancy usually leads to trouble.”
Uri on the other hand, wise as he was, hadn’t fought as many conflicts as me. He steered clear of the dark shit. The guy poured sunshine everywhere he went. That meant his skills were only useful in certain applications. He shouldn’t plant seeds in Jojo’s mind that sunshine would defeat Lucifer because it would take much more than that.
“Maybe that’s what this world needs,” she pressed, trying to change my mind, but it wasn’t going to work.