He tugs on the edge of her shirt, bringing them together. His voice rumbles low against her cheek, in a way that makes her shiver. “Count me in for it all.”
Casey turns her head and lifts her chin, meeting his lips. They taste like mint gum and her berry lip balm. The kiss isn’t long or soul-shattering or even particularly romantic, but Casey feels the easy way his lips give against hers, fitting with a simplicity that is incredibly nice when everything else feels like it’s spiraling out of control. When they break apart, it isn’t because of some desperate need for air, but because the rush of the moment has finally caught up with them.
With a glance at his somewhat stunned face, Casey brushes her fingers over her lips and grins. “We should go,” she whispers.
“Yeah, sure,” Evan mumbles, his cool blue eyes blank and glassy. “Whatever you say, boss.”
She tugs on his hand, smiling despite herself. They hurry to catch up with the others. Red has Liddy pinned to a pew when they enter the church and Casey jumps in to help while Malakhi circles the statue of Michael.
Liddy hisses, her fingers digging into the skin on Casey’s forearm, leaving red crescent-shaped marks.
“Stop it!” Casey grunts at her. Liddy narrows her eyes and she squirms, her teeth bared in struggle.
Malakhi runs his hand over the marble armor that adorns Michael’s shoulders. He stands back and lets his wings unfurl.
“So, how does this work?” Evan says. “Is there like a magic word or a secret button somewhere? Or do we just go ahead and bust open this giant rock man?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Malakhi rips a long feather from beneath his wings, watches it transform to steel in his hand, then drives it into the center of the statue. Tiny fissures spread across the stone.
Liddy cries out, the sound echoing off the walls.
“She won’t last much longer,” Red says.
“What does that mean?” Casey says, keeping her voice low.
“It means that the darkness is almost here. We need help now.” Red loosens the pair of feathers from the chain at his neck, turning them into twin daggers, making a slow sweep of the church with his eyes.
Liddy screams, her head twisting like a swivel on the point of her neck.
“She’s possessed,” Evan says, holding Liddy back against the pew when she tries to bolt.
“It’s not a possession,” Red says. “You need a body for that. A host. Souls just act as a doorway.”
Liddy screams again, the sound settling in Casey’s bones. Evan holds his hands over his ears, and Liddy throws herself from the pew, eager for escape.
“Stand back,” Malakhi orders as he slams his palm against the handle of the weapon wedged into the statue. The impact reverberates throughout the entire church like the crashing of a gong. Malakhi strikes the statue three times, splattering bits of alabaster stone across the alcove. With each strike, Casey takes another step back, almost tripping over Liddy who’s sprawled out, heaving against the ground.
After the third strike, Malakhi stops abruptly. He groans, clutching his stomach as he takes a few stumbling steps away from the alcove.
“What’s happening?” Evan asks.
Casey dodges Liddy’s clawing fingers, then wraps her hands around both of her wrists, trying desperately to hold her still.
“Someone must stand in his place,” Red explains, catching Malakhi as he takes another robotic step, steadying him. “There must always be enough guardians.”
Malakhi’s jawline locks first, then the twist of his neck. The change happens fast, seizing him in place within a few terrifying seconds and Red guides his stone body gently to the ground.
“So,” Evan says, “is that gonna happen to all of us? Or—”
Liddy knees him in the gut when he gets too close and escapes Casey’s grip, scrambling away.
Red rushes after her, vaulting himself over the back of a pew with ease.
The statue of Michael begins to tremble, then bursts as something springs from the shattered rubble. It’s a towering figure of an angel, cloaked in battle garb, a massive sword clutched in his hand. Michael’s skin is like poured wax, pure and unblemished, coating thick muscle. Casey’s accustomed to that unearthly beauty and grace and energy, but the most startling feature is his wings.
They’re nothing like what she imagines Red’s once were, or even like Malakhi’s. These are thick and white, brighter than new snow, extending out from his back in a glorious kind of display. Even the air around them seems to crackle, bending in reverence. Casey has the overwhelming urge to drop to her knees.
From his place, Red falls into a deep bow, his right hand pressed over his heart. “Michael,” he greets.
“Children,” he says, his voice deep, shaking the ground beneath her.
Liddy jerks to attention, scrambling across the floor and away from Michael, who follows her with curious, but deliberate steps. “Oh, child, you have fallen far from the light.”
He points his sword in her direction and Casey’s heartbeat gallops so fast she thinks she might be sick right there on the floor. But Michael doesn’t move to strike.
Liddy, on the other hand, stops backing away, her pale, sunken features turning into something malicious. She rests on her elbows, smiling at Michael with a cruel, twisted grin. A grin that doesn’t belong to her face. Then she collapses onto her back, her body twitching.
“What’s happening?” Evan demands.
“I know you are not who you pretend to be,” Michael declares and Liddy laughs, loud and dark and deep. “Using a child is beneath you, is it not, Azrael?”
“We do what we must,” a slithery voice answers, coming from Liddy. Her eyes become wide saucers, blank and black. Then they roll back and her entire body stills.
“Liddy!” Casey shouts, sprinting for her.
Red catches her around the waist, holding her back. “Don’t,” he warns. He wrestles her behind him, shoving her closer to Evan. “They’re coming.”
Casey doesn’t even have a chance to utter the word who before Liddy’s entire body begins to seize. Her jaw falls open and from her spills the same inky darkness that haunts Limbo. It erupts from her in a rush.
Like something out of a movie, the creatures peel themselves from the shadows, becoming tangible and dangerous. They move with purpose, dividing into defined shapes, somehow both human and animal-like. Casey’s never seen so many of them in one place.
Evan shakes beside her, eyes closed to fight off the sound.
Red wields both his daggers, trained on the place where Liddy lies. Her skin flickers with an iridescent sheen, unsettled as something lurks beneath the surface. Her dark eyes are vacant now, but when she stands, it’s with an ethereal grace.
Michael’s wings flutter, almost in anticipation, but Liddy—or Azrael—only smiles.
Red squares off against an obsii that crawls over a pew, long black limbs turning to hooked claws.
“So, this looks bad,” Evan says.
Red backs into him. “Find something to protect yourself with.”
“Yeah, right,” he mutters. “I’ll go find one of those big chorus books that I used for a booster seat as a kid and start hitting things with it.”
“Better than with your fists,” Red says.
Casey edges away from the obsii that gather around them. A circle of shadow grows in her peripheral.
“Show yourself, Azrael,” Michael demands, his voice booming. Some of the obsii cower before him, slinking away from his reach. “Stop lingering in the doorway. Let’s settle this without any human carnage.”
“Won’t risk the child’s soul, will you?” Azrael taunts, running Liddy’s hand over her face. “They’re so delicate, aren’t they? So perfectly malleable, so easily swayed.” She laughs, from somewhere deep in Liddy’s chest. “That’s the thing with you angels, so caught up in the cost of human life, the need to protect it. To save them. Sometimes a little sacrifice is necessary.”
“We’ve been
through this before,” Michael says, sounding almost bored.
Azrael rolls her eyes. “Maybe you thick-skulled light worshipers will get it right one of these days. But I’m doubtful it will be today.”
“Afraid you won’t hold up after all this time?” Michael asks, amused. Casey doesn’t know what exactly is so funny.
“I’m not the one who’s spent the last however many years as a rock,” Azrael sneers. “And your ranks have been somewhat depleted, I see. What do we have here? A couple of mortals and Red, my poor, wingless angel. How cute.” She studies them all closely, before focusing on Red. “You know, we have an army made up of your brothers and sisters—some fallen, like you. But they have their wings now. That’s the secret, Red. You can’t fall from the darkness.”
Red narrows his eyes.
“Not incentive enough?” Azrael taunts. “I thought wings were what all you fallen spent your days working toward.” She clicks her tongue, clearly enjoying the game. “Well, keep it in mind. You don’t have to do all the pathetic grunt work to get your wings back if you join us; consider them your ‘welcome home’ gift.”
“She’s really trying to sell you on this darkness stuff,” Evan mutters.
“This is what they do,” Red says. “They twist and taunt and turn you against everything you believe in.”
“Oh, yes. We spin you around and around until you can’t see straight. That’s us, deceitful little liars.” Azrael plays with the end of Liddy’s braid. “Don’t you ever get sick of this, Red? Of being told what to do?” She pouts. “Who you can love?”
Red tenses beside them.
“I’m not exactly the relationship expert, but it looks like you got the short end of the stick on that one. All because some high-and-mighty wing-flappers said no. Is that really how you want to spend the rest of existence, wishing for something that’s been forbidden?”
The first of the shadows lunge suddenly, and Michael brings it down with a flick of his wrist, driving the tip of his sword deep into the center of the beast. Black mist fills the air around him.
Azrael chuckles. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“It’s a distraction,” Red says. “She’s playing with us.”
“Oh, he is a smart boy,” Azrael giggles, grinning at him. “Let’s play another one.” She waves her fingers and the obsii scatter.
One of them rushes at Casey and she steps between Red and Michael. Evan isn’t as lucky and ends up on the ground, shadow claws swinging above his face before Red manages to destroy it.
Evan scrambles to his feet, swearing under his breath.
Somewhere, Azrael cackles wildly.
“She can’t stay trapped in Liddy’s soul forever, right?” Casey says.
“Not if she wants to escape,” Red answers. He kicks out hard, knocking a creature over a pew. “She’s limited by Liddy’s soul. She can’t access any of her real strength. We just have to make sure that when she does abandon Liddy’s soul, we get to it before the obsii.”
Evan picks up what looks to be an old wooden chair leg and swings at something that creeps up behind him.
“And what happens when we get Liddy’s soul back?” Casey asks. She keeps a careful position between Red and Michael. So far, the obsii haven’t dared cross it.
“We keep it safe until we can get her back to Limbo.”
“Easy,” Evan says, but Casey can already hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“You okay?” she asks, ducking a shadow that comes flying at her from over the altar.
“Sure, it’s just like Little League.” He swings again and the chair leg buckles, small splinters appearing in the wood.
“You hated Little League.”
“Yeah, but I was good at it!”
“Here, child,” Michael says. He lands beside them with a sweep of his wings and hands a slim, golden blade to Evan, who nearly buckles under the weight of it. Michael flies off again, shadows pelting him from above. He cuts through them easily, his muscles rippling with every stroke. The walls shudder with the power behind his swings.
Evan holds the sword like a baseball bat. Then he pivots toward Casey and screams, “Duck!”
She does at the very last second, feeling the air part above her head and the slick mist glaze her skin. It smells like the charred end of a candlewick.
From across the church, Azrael shrieks. A twisted, angel-shaped thing separates from Liddy’s body, leathery wings spilling out as Liddy collapses to the floor. Azrael moves with terrifying speed, crawling along the wall.
“That’s definitely gonna give me nightmares,” Evan says. He cuts the head off another obsii, kicking the body away as it turns to mist.
“Get to Liddy!” Red says to Casey. He gives her one of his daggers, then drives a pack of obsii out of her way. “They’ve separated!”
Azrael launches herself toward Michael with a shriek, dispersing the obsii. Casey scrambles away while they’re distracted, using the pews as cover as she makes her way toward the back of the church where Liddy’s soul has been abandoned.
When Casey reaches her, she presses her hands against Liddy’s skin, flinching; she’s ice-cold. Casey gives her a good, hard shake. “Liddy,” she whispers. “Come on.”
She’s too heavy to carry, but grabbing her under the arms, Casey manages to drag her between the pews, sheltering them both from the battle.
She’s pleased to see that Liddy’s no longer that eerie gray shade. Her skin’s still desperately cold and pale, for the most part, but a fine red tint brushes her cheeks.
“You can come back, Liddy,” she says. “Anytime now.” From the corner of her eye, she can see the shapes of the obsii creeping closer. They move in and retreat, taunting her, trying to draw her away from Liddy, but she stays close.
“Casey?” Liddy mumbles, coming around.
“Oh, finally,” she mutters. “I thought I was going to be stuck dragging you around this church.”
Liddy presses her hand to her forehead. “I feel like I was hit by a bus.”
“Not quite a bus,” Casey says, keeping her head low. “A demon and her shadow army.”
Liddy frowns. “Oh.”
Casey’s skin prickles; she looks over her shoulder to see a dark shadow hovering above them.
Liddy’s jaw drops, but before she can utter a sound, Casey thrusts her arm up and plunges the dagger deep into the obsii. It dissolves over them in a black cloud.
“Gross,” Liddy mutters, clutching the side of her head as bits of dust settle on her skin. Her eyes go wide as another shadow creature takes its place.
Casey lunges toward it to prevent it from getting near enough to harm Liddy. “I’m getting really sick of you!” She drives the dagger down, splitting the shadow.
Suddenly there’s a great roar, and Casey turns to see Michael lifting into the air, swarmed by obsii, and soaring straight for the roof. They crash through it, sending shards of glass and wood raining down on them. Casey crouches, throwing her arms over her head to shelter herself and Liddy.
Debris falls from above whenever Michael moves, battling the seemingly never-ending swarm of obsii. Shadows crawl up the pillars in droves, keeping Michael on the roof, away from Azrael.
She’s keeping us divided, Casey thinks. Separating us so she can pick us off one by one.
They’re no match for her like this. Liddy’s weak. Evan’s human. And Red’s wingless.
As if realizing the same thing, Azrael turns on Evan first, the closest to her. He blanches, stumbling backward up the steps toward the altar, swinging the golden sword wildly. Azrael cackles, lifting her scythe for a deadly blow.
“Evan!” Casey screams, racing toward him.
She knows it’s already too late.
But the blow never reaches him.
Red jumps in front of Evan, and the scythe cuts him across the chest instead, a deep gash spanning his ribs.
“Red!” Casey yells as he wobbles, then falls to his knees, hands pressed against the blood spreading ac
ross his shirt.
Evan catches him as he pitches backward.
“I got you, buddy,” Evan says. His hand presses against Red’s, trying to help contain the blood. He lifts the sword with his other hand, brandishing it at Azrael.
She laughs and advances against them.
Red looks up at that moment, and where Casey expects fear, she sees a strange calm. Red’s eyes begin to swirl an endless turn of white cloud.
Azrael hesitates as the air around them begins to crackle and spark, popping like fireworks. The ends of Casey’s hair lift from her shoulders. Then a fork of lightning strikes through the battered roof, raining more glass down on them. The flash blinds her for a moment, but then the light is swallowed up as it makes contact with Red.
He seizes against Evan, absorbing the strike. Then, as if pulled by strings, he stands.
Feathers unfurl from his back, beautiful wings sprouting like white spikes around him.
“Oh, heck yes!” Evan shouts, fist-pumping the air.
Red leaps off the stairs and into the air, using his newly regained wings to twist toward Azrael, catching her off guard. They both go soaring across the church and Casey ducks out of the way as they ricochet off the back wall, stone crumbling from the impact. They spiral up to the mezzanine level, crashing into the old pipe organ.
Azrael swipes her scythe through the air and a few white feathers flutter to the ground.
“You’re still no match!” she shouts at Red before she kicks him away. He skids across the stone steps in front of the altar. Azrael lands delicately and approaches slowly with self-assured feline grace. The hunter closing in on her prey.
Red struggles at first, staggering like a boxer post knockout. He winces, his shirt torn and blood-stained, but manages to straighten up. Then he throws his head back, his eyes ghostly and white.
Azrael laughs cruelly. “Yes, summon Michael down here. Go on. Wings or not, you could use the help.”
Red stretches his arms out, mirroring the length of his wings. His hands turn up, beckoning to the sky. Casey shivers as the church fills with energy and the air begins to crackle around Red again.
“Uriel!” he shouts over the swell of howling wind that sweeps down through the rafters. A glowing energy begins at his fingertips, swirling around the daggers. His gaze drops suddenly, eyes reflective pools of cloud, and a grin stretches his face into something terrifying. Both his hands ignite, the silver edges of his daggers alight with orange flame.
The Dark In-Between Page 21