One step, two, three, annnd he was a mile into the forest. Not because he was fast--though he was--but because he could do something his mother and the other Sent Ones he'd seen could not. He could move from one place to another with only a thought.
He'd discovered the ability a few months ago. At first, he'd only been able to whisk a yard, then two, but every day he managed to go a little farther than before. All he had to do was calm his emotions and concentrate.
At last he reached the stretch of wildflowers he'd found the last time he'd broken the rules and left the palace. He plucked the prettiest from the ground, the petals the perfect shade of lavender, reminding him of his mother's eyes. He brought them to his nose, sniffed. The mouthwatering aroma of coconut clung to him, and his grin returned.
If Cornelia asked where he'd gotten the bouquet, well, he would tell her the truth. He refused to lie, even to save himself from a punishment. Not only because other Sent Ones could taste when another being lied--unlike him--but also because lies were the language of the demons, and demons were almost as evil as his father.
His mother would appreciate Koldo's honesty. Surely.
Hands full of moist green stalks, he sprinted out of the forest and leaped into the atmosphere, going higher and higher, his feathers ruffling in the wind, the muscles in his back straining in the most delightful way. Up and down his wings glided. His heart thundered in his chest as he landed on the balcony and peeked through the doorway. There was no sign of his mother.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he entered the room. He emptied Cornelia's favorite vase of old, dried flowers, then added the new and watered the stems. He returned to his place in the corner, folded his legs and waited.
Hours passed.
More hours passed.
By the time the hinges squeaked to signal the door was being opened, his eyelids were heavy, his eyes as dry and scratchy as sandpaper, but he'd managed to stay awake and now jolted to eager attention.
A soft fall of footsteps. A pause.
"What did you do?" his mother gasped. She spun, taking in every inch of the bedroom.
"I made it better for you." Love me. Please.
A sharp inhalation of breath before she stomped over, stopping just in front of him and glaring down with fiery hatred. "How dare you! I liked my things the way they were."
Disappointment nearly crushed him, so heavily did it settle in his chest. Once again he'd failed her. "I'm sorry."
"Where did you get the ambrosia?" Even as she spoke, her gaze jerked to the double doors leading to the balcony. "You flew, didn't you?"
Only a beat of hesitation before he admitted, "Yes."
At first, she gave no reaction. Then she squared her shoulders, an action of determination. "You think you can disobey me and never suffer any consequences. Is that it?"
"No. I just--"
"Liar!" she shouted. Her palm smacked against his cheek, the force of the impact propelling him into the wall. "You're just like your father, doing what you want, when you want, no matter how anyone else feels about the matter, and I'm not going to tolerate this behavior anymore."
"I'm sorry," he repeated, trembling.
"Believe me, you will be." She grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. He didn't struggle, allowing her to toss him onto the bed, on his stomach, and tie his wrists and ankles to the posts.
Another whipping, he thought, not allowing himself to beg for mercy she wouldn't show. He would hurt, but he would heal. He knew that for a fact. He'd earned a thousand other punishments just like this one, but he'd always recovered. Physically, at least. Inside, his heart would bleed for years to come.
His mother selected a blade from the wall, ignoring the whip she normally wielded.
She was going to...kill him?
Finally Koldo tugged and twisted, but he wasn't strong enough to fight his way free. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'll never again clean your room, I promise. I'll never again leave it."
"You think that's the problem? Oh, you foolish boy. The truth is, I can't let you loose. You're tainted by your father's vile blood." The fire in her eyes had spread to the rest of her features, creating a wild, crazed expression. "I'll be doing the world a favor by limiting your ability to travel."
No. No! "Don't, Momma. Please, don't." He couldn't lose his wings. He just couldn't. He would rather die. "Please."
"I told you not to call me by that wretched name!" she screeched.
Panic caused little crystals of ice to form in his blood. "I'll never do it again, I promise. Just...please, don't do this. Please."
"I must."
"You can take my legs. Just take my legs!"
"And make you dependent on me the rest of your life? No." A slow grin lifted the corners of her lips. "I should have done this a long time ago."
A second later, she struck.
Koldo screamed and screamed and screamed...until his voice broke and his strength drained. Until he saw his beautiful wings on the floor, the feathers now soaked in his blood.
Until he could only close his eyes and pray for death.
"There, now. Hush. It's done," she said almost gently. "You lost what you did not deserve."
This was a dream, surely. His mother was not so cruel. No one could be so cruel.
Soft, warm lips pressed into his tearstained cheek, and the jasmine and honeysuckle of her scent overshadowed what remained of the coconut. "I'll hate you forever, Koldo," she whispered into his ear. "There's nothing you can do to change that."
No, not a dream. Reality.
His new reality.
His mother was far worse than cruel.
"I don't want to change it," he said, his chin quivering. Not anymore.
A tinkling laugh escaped her. "Is that anger I hear? Well, well. You're already more like your father than I knew. Perhaps it's time you met him." After a moment's pause, she added, "Yes, in the morning, I'll take you to your father's people. You'll realize just how good I've been to you--if you survive."
CHAPTER ONE
In a world of darkness, the smallest light is a beacon.
Present Day
KOLDO STALKED DOWN the ICU ward of the hospital. He and the warrior with him were hidden from human eyes and protected from human touch. The doctors, nurses, visitors and patients misted through them, completely unaware of the invisible world playing out alongside theirs. A spirit world that had given birth to this natural world, the human world.
A spirit world that was the true reality for all creation.
One day, these humans would discover just how exact that statement really was. Their bodies would die, their spirits would rise--or descend--and they would begin to understand the natural world was fleeting, the spiritual eternal.
Eternal. Just like Koldo's irritation seemed to be. He didn't want to be here among the humans, on yet another silly mission, and he really didn't like his companion, Axel. But his new leader, Zacharel, wanted him busy, distracted, for he suspected Koldo teetered on the verge of breaking a heavenly law.
Zacharel wasn't wrong.
After everything Koldo had endured in his father's camp...after escaping and spending centuries searching for his mother, Koldo had finally found her--and locked her inside a cage in one of his many homes.
So, yes. Koldo teetered. But he wouldn't ever cause the woman irrevocable harm. He wouldn't even lower himself to break one of her nails. For now, he simply hoped to teach her the horror of being trapped by circumstance, as she had taught him. As she was still teaching him.
Later, he would... He wasn't sure. He no longer liked to consider the future.
Because of his abhorrence of Cornelia, Koldo had landed in the Army of Disgrace. It was a terrible name for such a choice defensive force, but it was one that fit nonetheless. The members were the worst of the worst, the baddest of the bad...male and female Sent Ones who were in danger of damnation.
For various reasons, all twenty soldiers had ignored prized heavenly laws. They were meant to
love, but they hated. They were to help others, but they really only hurt. They were to build up, but they only ever tore down.
Three months ago, the members had been given one year to mend their wicked ways, or they would be stripped of their abilities and kicked into hell.
Koldo would do whatever was necessary to keep that from happening--even deny himself true vengeance. He refused to lose the only home he'd ever known.
Axel grabbed him by the arm, stopping him. "Dude! Did you see the meat bags on that girl?"
And there was reason number one why Koldo had a problem working with Axel. "Could you be any more disgusting?" He jerked from the warrior's hold, contact with another not something he enjoyed.
"Yeah," Axel said with an irreverent grin. "I could. But someone, and I won't say your name, K, my man, needs to get his mind out of the gutter. I wasn't talking about her chesticles."
Koldo ran his tongue over his teeth. "What, then?"
"Hello. Her demons. Look."
His gaze slid to the room at his right. The door had been in the process of closing and now clicked shut, blocking the occupant from view. "Too late."
"It's only too late when you're dead. Come on. You gotta see this." Axel strode forward and ghosted through the entrance.
Koldo's hands curled into fists, and he battled the urge to punch a wall. They had a mission, and distractions only extended their time in a place crawling with demons laughing at the pain the humans suffered and whispering into the ears of anyone who would listen.
Can't survive, they said. There's no hope. And these humans...so many were puppets, with clawed hands tugging at their strings. If they failed to fight back, they would become casualties in a war between good and evil, either in this life or after death. One way or another.
That's just the way things worked.
The Most High ruled the heavens. "He" was actually a sacred trinity consisting of the Merciful One, the Anointed One and the Mighty One, and He was the King of kings, His word law. He had appointed several underlings throughout the skies. Germanus--or Deity, as some of Koldo's kind called him, referring to a title, nothing more--was one of those underlings. A king answerable to the King.
Germanus led the Elite Seven--Zacharel, Lysander, Andrian, Gabek, Shalilah, Luanne, Svana--and each of those seven led an army of Sent Ones. Zacharel, for instance, led the Army of Disgrace.
Sent Ones looked just like angels, but they weren't actually angels. Not in the sense the world knew, at least. Yes, Sent Ones were winged. Yes, they waged war against evil and helped humans, but in actuality, they were the adopted children of the Most High, their lives tethered to His. He was the source of their power, the essence of their very existence.
Like humans, Sent Ones battled the desires of the flesh. They experienced lust, greed, envy, rage, pride, hate, despair. Angels, in actuality, were servants and messengers of the Most High. They experienced none of those things.
Mind on the mission.
Koldo straightened his spine. Zacharel had tasked him and Axel with killing a specific demon here at the hospital. The demon had made the mistake of tormenting a patient who knew about the spiritual world around him, a male who had called upon the aid of the Most High.
The Most High was love personified, willing to help anyone who asked. Sometimes angels were dispatched, sometimes Sent Ones. Sometimes both, depending on the situation and the skills needed. This time, Koldo and Axel had been chosen. They had been nearby, headed to a training session, when Zacharel's voice had whispered through their minds, imparting instructions.
Axel peeked his head through the center of the door and said, "Dude! You're missing it!"
"The person in that room is not our--"
Grinning, the warrior once again disappeared.
"Assignment," Koldo finished to no one but himself. His anger intensified.
Control yourself.
He could move on and fight the demon he was supposed to fight, no problem, but according to Zacharel's orders, he wasn't to proceed without his partner.
Grinding his teeth, he marched forward. He slipped through the iron obstruction without any difficulty, stopped and glanced around. The room was small, with multiple machines attached to the motionless blonde female on the bed. A redheaded female sat next to her, chatting easily.
The redhead had no idea there were two demons standing behind her, pretending not to see the Sent Ones in the room.
"Two of the guys in my office got to arguing about who could run faster," she said, "and soon bets were flying."
Her voice had a whispery quality, as if filled with smoke and dreams, and it settled over Koldo like warm honey. And yet, with the soothing came a tensing. Every muscle in his body knotted up, as if preparing for war. He...wanted to fight such a delicate human? But why? Who was she?
"I felt as if I was standing in the middle of a stock exchange or something."
Laughter bubbled from her, such beautiful laughter, pure, with nothing held back. The kind he'd never experienced himself.
"They decided to race in the parking lot instead of have lunch, and the loser had to eat whatever's in the plastic bowl in the break room fridge. The one that's been in there for over a month and is now black. I heard the cheers as I was pulling out of the lot, but I didn't get to see who won."
Wistful now. Why?
"You would have voted for Blaine, I'm sure. He's only five-nine, so he wouldn't tower over you too badly, and he has the cutest blue eyes. Not that his looks have anything to do with his speed, but I know you, and I know you would have wanted him to win regardless. You've always been a sucker for baby blues."
He could only see the top half of her, but judging by the fragility of her bone structure, she was a tiny thing. Her features were plain, her skin as pale as porcelain, and her eyes as gray as a winter storm. Her mass of strawberry hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the ends curling all the way to her elbow.
There was an air of fatigue surrounding her, and yet, there was a sparkle in those winter eyes.
A sparkle the demons behind her would soon snuff out.
He forced his attention on the pair. One was posted at her left and one was posted at her right, and both had a proprietary hand on her shoulder. They were Koldo's size, with dark, pupilless eyes that reminded him of bottomless pits. Lefty had a single horn protruding from the center of his forehead, and crimson scales rather than flesh. Righty had two thick horns rising from his scalp, and dark, matted fur.
There were many different types of demons, and they came in all different shapes and sizes. From the first of their kind, the fallen archangel Lucifer, to the viha, the paura, the nasili, the slecht, the grzech, the pica and the envexa. And sadly, many more. Each sought the destruction of mankind--one man at a time, if necessary.
Amid the types of demons, there were ranks. Righty was a top-of-the-line paura, and all about fear. Lefty was a top-of-the-line grzech, and all about sickness.
Demons liked to attach themselves to humans and, through whispers and deceit, infect them with a toxin that caused their anxiety levels to spike, in the case of the paura, and the immune system to weaken, in the case of the grzech. Then, the demons fed off the ensuing panic and upset, weakening the humans further and making them easy targets for destruction.
The girl must have been a veritable buffet.
Just how sick was she?
Lefty gave up trying to ignore Axel and glared at him as he danced around, slapping his face and saying, "I'm hittin' you, I'm hittin' you, what're you gonna do about it, huh, huh?" in the good-ole-country-boy accent he sometimes liked to use.
Koldo despised demons with every ounce of his being. No matter their type or rank, they were thieves, killers and slayers, just like his father's people. They left chaos and confusion in their wake. They ruined. And this pair wouldn't leave the girl unless forced--but even then she could welcome others.
His chest burned as he switched his focus to the girl on the bed. But...his gaze lasered th
rough the wrinkled cover, the thin hospital gown, and even skin and muscle. What he saw astonished him.
To him, the blonde was now as transparent as glass, granting him a glance at the demon that had wormed its way inside her body. A grzech, different from the one plaguing the redhead. This one had tentacles that stretched through the blonde's mind and into her heart, draining the life from her.
The Most High often blessed Sent Ones with specific supernatural abilities during difficult situations, things like this X-ray vision, as he'd heard others call it. Until now, Koldo had never experienced anything like it. Why here? Why now? Why this girl and not the other?
The questions were overshadowed a second later, when, in the blink of an eye, Koldo learned exactly how this had happened to her, the information seeming to download straight into his brain.
Born at twenty-six weeks, the blonde and her redheaded twin had struggled to survive the heart defects they'd been born with. Multiple surgeries were needed, and both almost died countless times--each time nullifying any progress made. Throughout the years, their parents had become fond of saying, "You have to keep yourself calm or you'll have another heart attack."
Innocent words meant to aid the pair--or so it seemed.
Words were one of the most powerful forces known--or unknown--to man. The Most High had created this world with His words. And humans, who had been fashioned in His image, could direct the entire course of their lives with their words, their mouths as the rudder on a ship, as the bridle on a horse. They produced with their words. They destroyed with their words.
Eventually the blonde had come to believe the slightest rise in her emotions would indeed cause another painful heart attack, and with her belief, fear had sparked to life.
Fear--the beginning of doom, for heavenly law stated that what a person feared would come upon them. In the blonde's case, the fear had come upon her in the form of the grzech. She'd caught his notice, and she'd been such an easy target.
First, the demon breathed his toxin into her ear, whispering destructive suggestions.
Your heart could stop at any moment.
Oh, the pain...it's unbearable. You can't live through that again.
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