by V L Moon
“I am ready to serve my Creator whenever he calls me,” she returned as demurely as possible when she really wanted to scream in frustration.
“I trust you received your message,” he stated. Turning, she plucked the envelope from the bed and held it up. “Good. You need to be early. Wear your ceremonial robe instead of your weapons, and for the love of all that’s Holy, leave your questions here.” Mirabella’s eyes widened. He sounded…nervous.
“I promise to be on my best behavior.” And, her statement did nothing to alleviate the worry shining in his eyes. When he took a step closer and enfolded her in a hug, she went completely speechless. The kiss on the top of her head sent chills along her skin.
“Creator be with you, Little One. I know I was hard on you. In time, you will know why.” He mounted his wings. The glorious white feathers underplayed with gold rose as high as the ceiling allowed and he bowed. “I wish the Creator’s blessings upon you, Mirabella.”
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper as he disappeared through the door. Her gaze fell to the small white square in her hand. The questions tumbled over each other in her head. Sashka grabbed both shoulders and shook her.
“We have to get you ready. Whoever you are meeting must be a big shot, higher up if Michael is nervous,” she said while pushing Mirabella toward the bathroom.
“You noticed that too?” she asked.
“Oh yeah and he hugged you! I nearly fell over.” Sashka gushed.
“Tell me about it. Makes me wonder just who the heck I’m going to meet.” Mirabella laid the message on the dresser and swallowed the flutter of fear in the back of her throat. She was a Guardian angel; she could handle whatever they threw at her.
“Well at least you didn’t ask. That should make him feel a little bit better.” Sashka’s blithe statement made her grin and some of the worry drained away.
~*~*~*~
Mirabella stood outside the appointed chamber, hands clasped in front of her, wings folded neatly and heart hammering in her chest. She’d been waiting for a full fifteen minutes, and the stress was taking its toll. A tingle started in her nose at the same time the door in front of her started to open. Frantic, she tried to hold her breath, but the sneeze wouldn’t be denied.
“Bless you, my child.” A deep resonating voice preceded a warm hand falling on her shoulder.
“Thank y…” Mirabella glanced up and went numb. The Creator. He shone like the sun, a glow that should hurt the eyes but didn’t. He had a runner’s build, lean and whippy, muscled without obvious brawn. His features were perfect and lovely, and she was staring. She bowed deeply, her insides trembling, and her mind blank for the first time ever.
“There’s no need for that, Mirabella,” he said and took her hand. He led her to a rather sparsely furnished chamber resplendent with color and light. They crossed to an intimate seating arrangement with two chairs, a table and light refreshments of ambrosia and manna. She took the seat indicated, but declined the food. When he sat back and studied her, the ceaseless questions in her brain finally recovered from the shock and started to spin.
“You are awfully quiet, Mirabella. Your instructors led me to believe you were quite the chatterbox.” He tilted his head to the side as if assessing her.
“I’m a bit speechless. I sure wasn’t expecting to see you when that door opened. I think I swallowed my tongue.” She bit her lip, and her eyes went wide when he laughed.
“Point taken,” he murmured and settled back in the seat. Cobalt blue eyes saw into her very soul. “I have a task for you. It’s not a normal one for a Guardian, but one that is…necessary. It’s not without danger so you will need the skills you have learned. Once you’ve completed it, you’ll be assigned the soul you so desperately seek.”
“I’ll do it,” she said and leaned forward eagerly. At long last there would be no more waiting; she would do what she was born to do, trained to do.
“Don’t be so hasty, my child. The risks will come from outside, but also from inside. You must be sure and true in your faith.” Once again, he studied her face. “I know you have questions. I know all of the rules don’t make sense to you, that the horrors on Earth make no sense. But my dear, you’ve yet to come face to face with evil. We fight our battles where we can, and the demons far outnumber us.” His face turned sad. “The mortals are vulnerable to their wiles and must make choices on their own.”
Mirabella took a moment to examine her heart. She believed in the Creator, loved him though it was the first time she’d been alone in his presence. She was a Guardian angel; she fought on the side of justice and light.
“I accept whatever duty you have for me, my Lord. I am humbled to carry out your will.” Sliding from the chair, she knelt at his feet. “Use me as you will.”
~*~*~*~
Sweat trickled down Mirabella’s back despite the chill in the air. With a last twist, she yanked the sword from the demon’s back and dragged her arm across her face to stop the moisture from dripping into her eyes. Scattered in the sparse woods somewhere in the Apennine mountain range, other demons lay decapitated or eviscerated. A smile of accomplishment and pride curved her lips.
“First battle goes to Heaven,” she said to the dead at her feet. Her breath frosted on the air. Delighted, she exhaled several more times and watched the little clouds float away. Earth was so different than she had imagined it. Cold for one, and very dark. A darkness such as she had never known before.
Shadows danced around her cast by the moonlight on the swaying trees. The wind caught at her cape and she shivered. She’d been on Earth all of an hour, but had scored her first—she counted—six demon deaths. They were drawn to her just as the Creator had predicted. Before she’d left Heaven, the Creator had filled her with celestial light so pure and beautiful it brought tears to her eyes.
At that moment, she held more power within her than most angels saw in their long lifespans. The demons sensed it and wanted it for themselves. Her duty was to deliver it to another of her brethren. She sensed the other angel, but the presence was flickering and weak. The ever present questions swirled in her mind. Why hadn’t the angelic being ascended to Heaven to re-energize? Why was it so imperative that the transfer take place? Was the angel one of the archangels? But no, she’d seen Michael herself, and Gabriel was rumored to be on a mission in the bowels of Hell. However the biggest question was…why her? And finally, did the outcome of the mission affect the soul she received?
“Why don’t you just keep the power for yourself?” The oily voice slid into her consciousness. “Who needs the Creator now with his rules and oppression? All of those demons who hurt children and animals can be eliminated by your hand. You’ll be a hero among your kind.”
The demon hit on a subject near and dear to her heart, but Mirabella was having none of it. Sword clasped in her double fists, she swung around slowly scanning the surrounding trees and shadow. “Come out and play little demon, if you’re not scared that is,” she taunted.
“Little,” the voice scoffed from her right. She stood still, waiting for any sound. “Size is of no importance, angel. Power is what matters.” The words echoed around her. There was no way to pinpoint the demon’s location. A mini cyclone of leaves earned the point of her blade, but the rush of hot wind at her back brought her around full circle.
“You are fast, angel,” the demon hissed though he didn’t move. The point of the sword dug into what might have been a neck. It stood a head shorter than her, sported five unblinking eyes and a mouthful of needle like teeth. Scaly black skin oozed slime that fizzed when it hit the ground. The wind shifted and his freakish eyes dilated.
“Smell so good,” he, or it, moaned. He reached for her, but his severed limb bounced off the ground instead. His enraged roar battered her eardrums. Her flinch earned her a nasty bite on the arm. The demon convulsed at the first hit of angel blood. Mirabella used the distraction to bring the hilt of the sword down in the middle of his multiple eyes. He let go with a
yowl. A swift strike through the middle cleaved him in two.
Breathing hard, she didn’t wait around for more of the vile creatures to appear. She needed to find the other angel and get rid of the beacon screaming from her very pores. Concentrating on the flicker of celestial life, she took wing and followed the faint trail. On silent feet, she landed behind a dark cottage and furled her wings. The celestial rested behind the walls in front of her, but a pall hung over the entire area. Evil lurked inside, lived and breathed in the space.
Tentatively, she edged forward, eyes and ears straining to pick up anything. An unfamiliar scent drew a frown. Not demon, not angel, not human. She edged around the house and froze in surprise to see three men standing in the moonlight. They surrounded two men lying motionless on the ground. As a group, they sank to their knees. Mirabella flinched when they struck. Vampires. Bad ones. The sense of evil and the unusual smell became crystal clear. Their distraction also gave her the opportunity she needed.
She moved with the shadows, slipping inside the half opened door. The wavering life force of the other angel led her across the room to a heavily locked door. Shifting from corporeal to mist, she slipped through the wood and nearly tumbled down the staircase. Slowly, she edged her way down and found another locked door. When she took form on the opposite side, she barely managed to control the gasp.
The female angel huddled in the far corner. Dirt, bruises and blood marred her porcelain skin. Her long hair hung in tangled curls around her thin frame. Shackles made of silver circled her neck and wrists. Their presence confused her. Silver bound vampires against their will, but there was no mistaking the female before her was celestial. Mirabella studied her, reluctant to step into a trap, but she saw nothing capable of holding the angel.
Hesitantly, she crossed the room and went down on her knees. The angel’s condition sickened her, and every instinct urged her to help the female escape. But, the Creator had been clear. Deliver the Heavenly light and leave. Tentatively, she reached out. Before her hand made contact, the other female jerked and raised her head. An unfamiliar scent wafted to Mirabella. Her entire body clenched. She almost moaned before she caught herself. Pure intoxication drifted from the other female.
“I’m…ah…I’m here to help you,” she said soothingly. “The Creator sent me.” With surprising strength, the frail looking female scooted backward.
“No. I’m not leaving here. Tell him I’m fine,” the angel said, wrapping her arms around her middle.
“I’m not here to get you out.” Her brow scrunched up with her confusion. “In fact, he specifically told me to leave you.” The statement relaxed the other female, but only slightly. “I don’t understand. The men outside are only vampires, not true demons. Our studies taught us only demons could enslave angels.”
“Sometimes our prisons are self-imposed, little one.” The husky voice raised goose bumps on Mirabella’s arms. Pain and resignation laced her words. “What is it then you have been sent to do for me?”
Mirabella lifted her hands and looked at her palms. Immense power was about to transfer from her to the other angel. It terrified her while at the same time it excited her. “I’ll have to touch you. Is that okay?” When the female nodded, Mirabella leaned forward and placed her hands on the other angel’s shoulders the same as the Creator had done to her; only nothing happened.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Tell me child, what you are trying to do.” Each word tore at Mirabella’s soft heart. The female’s agony was palpable in the air.
“A transfer of celestial light. It’s all inside of me, and it wants to come out. But, I don’t know how.” She looked up and bit her lip. “He didn’t tell me.”
“I know how, Guardian.” Mirabella jumped and nearly scrambled away. The deep masculine voice was the last thing she had expected from the female. Mirabella’s eyes rounded when it came again. “The power needs to be split. Get behind me, one hand over my heart, the other on my stomach.”
Fear washed into the female’s eyes. “No. She can’t. She’ll know.”
Mirabella’s eyebrows went up, and her eyes widened even more. Was the angel crazy? She was arguing with herself? In two different voices.
“Look, we have to hurry. The vampires are right outside. They’ll be done feeding soon.” Mirabella shuddered at the thought of what was taking place outside the cottage. Narrow shoulders slumped.
“Do as he said. We can’t risk Darklon finding you here.” The soft voice held resignation. Relieved to be finally meeting her duties, Mirabella maneuvered behind the slight frame and rose up on her knees. One hand slid under the female’s arm and landed on her left breast right above her heart. The other slid around her waist and settled on the curve of her…
“Oh Sweet Creator! You’re pregnant!” Protectiveness swamped Mirabella. She tried to rise to her feet and pull the other angel up with her. The female covered her hands and with surprising strength held her down. The babe’s heart beat against her palm as if she touched it directly.
“Quiet!” The angel hissed. “The vampires don’t know and it needs to stay that way.”
Tears drenched Mirabella’s eyes. To be trapped and held against her will was terrible, but to be pregnant at the same time was tragic. “Please let me get you out of here,” she whispered. The female shook her head and leaned back into Mirabella’s embrace.
“Close your eyes, Mirabella, and concentrate on the light inside you.” The male voice instructed. Way out of her depth and flailing miserably, Mirabella did as she was told. The blinding rapture of their Heavenly Host shone inside her soul. Its beauty overwhelmed her all over again. A presence slipped into her mind. The male. She caught a brief glimpse of silver eyes, a cocky smile and magnificent wings. She also got his name and nearly fainted from sheer adulation.
Laziel.
Shock robbed her of breath. She held the mighty Seraphim, Laziel, in her arms. The Creator’s right hand, his warrior. And, Heaven’s whispered stories of fantasy and wonder were true. He possessed both forms. The magnitude of her duties started a violent trembling deep in her soul. If she failed, if Laziel died—
“It’s not the Creator you need worry about, little miss. If I die, my Azarian will wipe out the world.” There was fierce pride and unparalleled love in the statement, but Mirabella shivered. Who the hell was Azarian? “Concentrate, Mirabella. We are going to nourish my soul and the babe’s as well.” Her thoughts snapped back to the power within, but the Seraphim didn’t need her.
With exquisite skill and a father’s sweet touch, he fed the baby the power it needed before taking the rest into his own soul. The transfer merged their metaphysical beings, and she caught brief glimpses of his long and storied life. The depths of Hell, human tragedy, a cross unlike any she recognized, the female form in vivacious form, and a male’s face—a vampire, harsh yet beautiful. Pain surged through the link and somehow she knew it was the countenance of the mysterious Azarian. She gasped when the connection was abruptly severed.
“You weren’t supposed to see that, angel,” Laziel whispered. The female form sat up and despite the dingy appearance and skin and bone frame, Mirabella recognized the power that lurked beneath. Suddenly, the female’s earlier words made sense. She was here willingly though Mirabella couldn’t understand why.
“It’s not for you to understand, Mirabella. My name is Lorenza, Loz if you like.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You have to go now. Darklon will be back in moments.” She turned to face Mirabella. “I’m going to take your memory of this. I hope you understand. There’s so much at stake.” She lifted a dirty, but elegant hand. Mirabella scuttled backward and away.
“No, please don’t. I won’t tell your secrets. The Creator would not have sent me if he didn’t trust me,” she pleaded.
“Or, there was not another with the fortitude to carry what you did,” Loz countered. That deflated Mirabella somewhat, but she didn’t come any closer to Lorenza.
“You can trus
t me,” Mirabella vowed. “And, I think you need a friend right now. You have to be lonely down here. And, when the babe comes, you’ll need help. I’m a Guardian. I can help you protect the babe. All you have to do is call upon me.”
In the end, the decision was taken from the both. The front door slammed and heavy footfalls stomped toward the locked door. Mirabella faded and drifted to the ceiling. When the door swung open, she projected herself into the other room. She glanced back to see the female once again huddled on the floor, the echo of power hidden almost completely. She heard the first strike and the second. She battled her instincts, but it was her own words that firmed her resolve. She’d promised the Seraphim to keep his secrets. And, she would; even if it meant honoring his wishes and leaving him in the hands of a monster.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Eighteen
~*~*~*~
Anchorage, Alaska
Silence blanketed the dark room, broken only by the sound of silk sheets rustling against bare skin. Vischeral flipped from his stomach to his back for the tenth time in thirty minutes. Despite the sun rising precisely two hours, ten minutes and fifteen seconds earlier, the Sole Dormire failed to drag him under. Vischeral cursed and snapped on the lamp beside the bed.
A sigh and a low groan from his partner tightened Vischeral’s balls. Through their bond, Vischeral was so tuned in to Copi; he heard each breath, each heartbeat and each movement of the male's skin against identical black silk sheets. Every night, he battled the need to join Copi in that bed. The longing for the consummation of their bond proved stronger than sleep’s grip. And, with Copi’s scent permeating every square inch of his home, it grew harder and harder to fight his vampiric nature.
For the last couple of months, one thought pinwheeled through his grey matter every time he closed his eyes. One floor above him in what should have been the master bedroom, Copi slept naked on the king-size bed. He knew the latter for a fact because every dawn, he lulled his partner into slumber and then stood beside his bed to watch him sleep. Although he hated what he did, he couldn’t have the man waking up to find Vischeral did not sleep in the bedroom down the hall. He’d tried other alternatives, but they failed miserably.