Hero of the InBetween

by Erin Snihur

  As our skin connects, I feel a buzz and ripple of searching power race through my skin and I tense as it rushes through me, searching for something. In a flash, the searching power reaches my mind and flashes of memories race before my eyes as I flinch at the remembrance of Tarnin attempting to kill me, the feeling of love for having been with Darius for the first time and, finally, for seeing my parents in the afterlife.

  Only a few seconds have passed, but it had felt like longer. As quickly as he touched me, Michael’s hand pulls away and I let out a harsh breath I didn’t realize I am holding. As I try to calm my breathing, I watch Michael’s face and eyes for any indication of what he is thinking.

  Jophiel asks from her seat, her voice soft and curious, “Michael?”

  At her voice, Michael’s eyes harden and he turns back to the dais. “It is as Pascal has testified.”

  Behind me, I can feel the others relaxing somewhat. As I feel Darius take my free hand and once more pull me back to stand beside him, I know this is far from over. Carefully, I tighten my hold on the Flaming Sword as Azrael stands, his grin no longer on his face as he slides his gaze over to Michael. Instead, Azrael’s face is set into one of pained seriousness.

  “Then it must be done,” Azrael voice echoes across the room, his own hand clasping his large bladed sword strapped to his hip.

  Before I can even comprehend what, I am doing, I call out one word, “No!"

  My hands unsheathe the Flaming Sword. My fingers burn and the flames burst forth to circle the sword’s blade. I find myself moving so fast that the others are startled as I circle Michael, until a trail of flames encircles him. Finally, I am standing at his side, sword ready.

  “You will not kill him,” I command, my voice raspy as I glare at the others. Jophiel appears startled and remains seated as the others stand, swords drawn.

  I can sense Darius and the others drawing their own swords, though I know it is a battle we are unlikely to win, they still choose to side with us, their family. Pascal remains standing behind the Archangels’ thrones, his face in shock as he stares back at me. Raphael has placed himself in front of Pascal. As if I would ever wish to hurt the blind angel.

  Azrael snorts, “It is not just Michael that has broken the law, half-breed. If your whore mother had been alive on Earth, she would be next.”

  I see red as my eyes squint and I lung for Azrael, startling him as he backs up. I heard Jophiel scream as his blade meets mine at the last moment. As our blades connect, the impact is harsh enough that Azrael is forced back. His body strikes the wall behind him and he collapses to the ground, his sword clattering beside him.

  With a slash of the Flaming Sword, the chair Azrael once sat in falls apart in half and I kick the remaining pieces aside to approach him. None of the others stop me. They merely watch, eyes wide.

  As I stop on the last step of the dais, I cock my head at Azrael, “Let me repeat myself. You will not kill Michael, you will not lay a hair on any of my friends, you will not even think about harming Darius and, if you ever think about threatening my parents again, I will cut off your favorite appendage and feed it to you.”

  I pause as I glare down at him, his breathing sharp as he attempts to sit upright on the polished ground, “Do I make myself clear?”

  Azrael groans as he straightens, his back cracking in places as he glares up at me, “Crystal.”

  I nod and back away until I am once again facing Michael. Dipping the Flaming Sword into the circular fire I made around him, I watch as the flames slowly dim as they run up the blade in a continuous motion.

  Azrael snorts and laugh from the same position on the tiled floor, “You are merely that sword’s host. It will not protect you forever and when you are vulnerable once more, you better watch your back half-breed.”

  I shrug off his words as I stare into Michael’s eyes and he mine. I step past him and walk back to my group of friends and Darius. As I sheathe my sword and come to stare once more at the most powerful beings in the whole world other than the Almighty, I smirk slightly.

  “I have no interest in your politics. I only wish to resume my normal life on Earth with the man I love. That is all,” I say to the Archangels, some of whom snort in disbelief.

  Jophiel calmly stares down me, her eyes filled with fear as she sneaks a glance back at Azrael, “You must understand our position, Elara. Children of an Archangel can be powerful, plus you are the host of the Flaming Sword. If that power falls into the wrong hands…”

  As she trails off, I smile and glance around at the others, “It’s a good thing the man I love happens to be an angel then, isn’t it?”

  Azrael groans as he stands, leaning against the wall he just moments ago had been thrown against, “This relationship is not sanctioned.”

  A gasp from Dina is all I hear as I stare at each Archangel in awe. My words are ice cold as I ask, “Are you kidding me?”

  “You must understand that if you intend to return to Earth, your relationship with Darius and any other angel will not be sanctioned,” Michael answers as he turns to stare at me, his face serious.

  I shake my head, “That’s ridiculous, you can’t enforce that.”

  Michael nods as he turns and walks up the steps of the dais, returning to his seat, “We can and we will.”

  Darius’ face is a mixture of pure rage. “What is to become of me then?”

  Raphael speaks then, smiling calmly down upon us, “You will return to your position as a warrior, but we are sure your position will move in the ranks due to your experience.”

  Darius scoffs, “So that you might keep a better eye on me? What about the InBetween?”

  Ariel snorts then, sarcastically laughing, “What about it? You yourself claimed it to be completely destroyed.”

  Darius steps forward his face confused, “Surely the Almighty intends to rebuild the realm.”

  Michael shakes his head, “Without the Flaming Sword, that has yet to be seen.”

  The doors behind us open and Michael waves his hand. Soldiers march in and surround our friends and Darius, who glares at them with so much fury that the soldiers might erupt into flames.

  Before I have a chance to speak, I turn back to the Archangels and find Raphael standing before me. As he places his hand on my forehead, a calmness spreads all around me and I hear two things.

  “A gift, hero, from your maker,” Raphael whispers.

  “Elara!” Darius cries out all at the same time.

  Then, darkness.

  32

  Darius

  I watch helplessly as Elara’s eyes roll into the back of her head as Raphael mutters something and she faints. She almost hits the ground, but Pascal is quickly at her side to catch her. The blind angel seems to be checking her over when he glances over to me with his unseeing eyes.

  “She is fine, Darius. Just sleeping,” Pascal says from his position on the floor.

  I glare up at Michael, my sword ready to move against the soldiers who stand all around us. “What have you done?”

  “She wishes to return to her normal life and thus I have allowed her to do so. These men will escort you to your new quarters and new position, Darius. Your friends are welcome to join you on the trip," Michael orders, his blue eyes sharp.

  I have never gone against Michael before. He has been my mentor, my teacher and my father figure all in one. I have always agreed with him, but on this I cannot agree.

  “No.”

  Some gasp at my outright refusal and I watch as Michael stands, his fury obvious. “What do you mean, no.”

  “Do you want me to repeat myself, Michael? I said no. How about Latin, nihil,” I growl, my sarcasm growing, “If you won’t let me be with Elara with your blessing, then I’ll find someone who will.”

  Michael snorts, “Who exactly do you know that would allow such a union?” Michael’s hands sweep the seven Archangels in attendance, “I know none of us will.”

  I smirk in Michael’s direction, “You’re forget
ting the fallen son, Michael. Your army isn’t the only one I can join if it means being with Elara.”

  33

  Elara

  Beep, beep, beep.

  Damnit, I grumble to myself as I squint through my blurry eyes, wincing at the early morning sun streaming through my windows. I quickly slam my hand on my alarm clock to stop that infernal sound. The twittering of birds from my open windows and sounds of the city below have me freezing.

  Sitting up in my bed, I gaze around my room. It looks the same. Taking stock of myself, my hands instinctively go to my face. My eyes. Leaping out of my bed, I race to my ensuite bathroom and stare into the mirror.

  My familiar, hazel eyes stare back at me. My hair is still brown, long and wavy. I still have ten toes and ten fingers. The scar on my hand is still gone. The one Darius healed. I freeze once more as I realize I completely forgot him.

  Darius! My thoughts race trying to remember what happened. I remember standing before the Archangels with…the sword.

  “Shit!” I exclaim and race into my bedroom, searching for the powerful object. The sword isn’t here. My heart breaks. They must have taken it and Darius!

  The sounds of dishes rattling in my kitchen give me pause. When I move to open my bedroom door, the smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes fill my nostrils. My mouth waters as I walk down the hallway and freeze in the archway to the open living space.

  Darius is standing there in my father’s old apron that has faded with time, but still serves its purpose and warms my memories. He flips a pancake and expertly places it on a plate before setting said plate already full with bacon, eggs and hash browns on the island countertop.

  “I couldn’t find your waffle iron, so I just made pancakes. Hope that’s okay,” Darius says as he turns off the stove and opens my fridge, pulling out juice, “Do you want juice or milk?”

  My bottom lip quivers and I race forward, startling him as I lunge into his arms, hugging him so tightly that he laughs while he hugs me back. As he pulls away and stares down at me, his eyebrows are raised, “Is everything okay?”

  “What happened? We were before the Archangels, Darius, and the sword…Oh no! The sword! Did they take it?” I exclaim and take a step back my hands shaking.

  Darius grins and grasps my shoulders, slowly spinning me around to face my living room. “No, Little Moon. Look.”

  Over my stone fireplace is a wooden display hanging from the wall and in it is the Flaming Sword, safe and sound. I gasp and stride toward it, quickly picking it up off the display. As I run my fingers gently over the runes emblazoned on the sword’s blade, I feel my fingertips begin to burn slightly, rippling from the power beneath them.

  “No sword play in the house, Elara,” Darius whispers at my back, his lips close to my ear. Shivering, I slowly place the sword back on the display and turn to face Darius. His dark eyes are staring into mine and he smiles slightly.

  “Looks like your eyes are back to normal,” he mutters as he takes my hands and leads me over to the table filled with the steaming piles of food.

  As I sit, my eyes narrow as I watch Darius clean up around the kitchen. Finally, he sits on the opposite island bar stool, digging into his food.

  “Darius, what happened? You need to tell me,” I ask as a hard knot begins forming in my stomach as I clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking.

  Darius exhales and pushes away from the table, “I think it would make more sense to show you.”

  Standing, Darius moves to the center of my living room. He glances around and moves my coffee table back. Darius shoots a look in my direction and I watch as that familiar smile breaks through.

  “Don’t freak out, Little Moon,” He croons.

  Before I can react, Darius is tensing, his face is full of pain as he removes his shirt and I see them. The new scars. I clench my fingers tightly into fists as the anger bubbles, but one look from Darius has me freezing.

  Slowly, like in slow motion, his wings emerge from his back, but something's wrong. These aren’t the beautifully, dangerous white feathered wings, I’d seen in action flying over the InBetween. These wings are dark and leathery. The tips are sharp and jagged. As I stand and approach, Darius’ face is breaking my heart with every step. He is in so much pain.

  “Who did this to you?” I ask, my voice breaking.

  “I did it to myself. My choice,” he answers quickly.

  “But why?”

  “To be with you. It was the only way. The Archangels wanted to separate us, so that they could keep us under their control. I made a deal with Lucifer. A century of service and in return he agreed to keep you protected,” Darius clutches my hands in his, soothing some of my anger.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Darius. What about the others? Your family!” I demand, my voice obviously panicked.

  Darius shakes his head, “I’m a fallen one. Not a demon. Ezekiel, Gideon and Pascal have fled to Earth. They are deserters, not yet fallen. Dina has decided to stay among the Archangels. She and Lucifer have had some sort of falling out. We will figure it out, I promise. All that matters is us in the here and now.”

  Staring at his new wings, I sigh, feeling completely confused, “This is insane. What are we going to do?”

  Darius grins, “We are going to let Lucifer handle it.”

  Gazing up into Darius eyes, I grin back and shake my head, “I’m sure the King of Hell appreciates the weight we’ve placed on him.”

  Pulling me into his arms, Darius chuckles, “You did it, Little Moon. You saved the world.”

  As I stared over his shoulders, my eyes were locked on his wings and the Flaming Sword in the background.

  “But at what cost?”

  Prologue

  Lucifer

  Standing over my kingdom usually gives me a sense of euphoria unrivaled by anything or anyone. In this moment, it is rivaled. I should be standing here with Dina. Perfect little angel, Dina. Clenching my fists tightly, I feel myself reaching for the confounded cellphone. On it is one text message.

  Don’t try to contact me again.

  It is like a kick to the gut or a stab to the heart. If I had one, according to some. The anger that wells up inside me is nothing new. Before I can stop myself, I’m clenching the phone so hard that it shatters into a million pieces at my feet.

  Trying to calm my breathing doesn't help to cool my temper. Especially when my ears tingle at the sound of the elevator doors opening. I hear Lilith’s voice demanding to my guest that I am not to be disturbed. Lilith is powerful, but this guest is not to be deterred.

  The doors to my throne room open of their own accord as my guest enters. I stiffen as I sense who exactly has entered my domain. My brother. Michael.

  “Hello, brother,” I croon, but continue to stare out the windows overlooking my kingdom. So peaceful, for Hell.

  “Don’t brother me, Lucifer. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" Michael yells at me. Faintly, I hear the clacking of Lilith’s shoes as she departs the room, probably nervous about having my brother in such close proximity. Archangels and demons don’t mix well.

  I smirk at my reflection in the glass and feel my wings twitch slightly, aching for a fight, “No, I don’t. Do tell.”

  “My Keeper, Darius, has betrayed the Almighty. He proclaimed to all seven of us his choice to join your army. All because of that…” his voice trails off and growls in frustration. I can practically feel the untapped anger leaching out of him. My brother is usually so calm.

  Good, a voice whispers in my mind, now he knows how we have felt these many centuries.

  “You can say it, Michael. Because of your daughter. Elara, yes?” I turn as I ask, my leathery wings barely scraping the ground.

  Michael closes his eyes and sighs. Before long he is opening those stormy, blue eyes again and leveling them on me, “I know you had something to do with this. You lured Darius away. I won’t allow it, Lucifer.”

  “I don’t believe you have a choice in the matter,�
�� I growl back as my hand comes to rest on the arm of my throne as I threaten, “Remember, brother, you are in my realm now, not yours.”

  Michael clenches his fists, “Then you remember, brother, it is I and the others who control your precious, little play thing. Don’t think we haven’t noticed your infatuation.”

  At my glare, Michael grins like a cat who has caught the canary, or in this case angel, “Don’t worry. We have set Dina on the straight and narrow.”

  “Watch yourself, Michael,” my voice booms out, vibrating the floors and the walls.

  Michael shakes his head, his eyes cooling, “Keep away from my people, Lucifer. That way we won’t have to come to blows. It would be foolish to lose someone as talented as Dina, who may fall in the middle of our squabble.”

  As Michael turns to walk away, I call him to a halt, “Then, Michael, you should also be aware to keep away from my people, if you and the others know what is best for you. Besides, who do you think the hero of the InBetween will side with when it comes down to the end of times, hmm? Rumors of riots in the afterlife are spreading like wildfire. Your daughter is the flame to their kindling. Don’t think to enter my realm again.”

  When Michael retreats and disappears from my realm, I let loose the beast. Windows break, my throne becomes carved into bits of rubble and the walls appear to have some holes.

  Once I have drained my rage, I calmly breathe in and out with my eyes closed. Slowly, I begin picturing my throne room as it once was. When I open my eyes, my throne room is pristine once more. Turning to stare out the windows overlooking my kingdom, I snarl inwardly.

  I’m coming for you, little angel. No one shall keep you from me.