Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  I dove, missing his blade as it went for my chest. A quiver of rage welled in me and I yanked out my own soul blade. With his face twisted in anger, the angel came again, his attack swift and controlled. I ducked, scampering out from under him and slipping on the concrete floor.

  Howling, the angel spun around and came at me remarkably fast. I crouched into a fighting stance. He shot at me and I aimed for his chest but missed. My blade sliced the top of his shoulder as he ducked and kicked my feet from under me. I hit the ground hard. My hip bone seared in pain as it smacked against the concrete. Straining, I rolled, just as his blade hit the spot where my leg just was.

  Now I was pissed. The angel lunged at me and my instincts kicked in. My boot slammed into his knee, he went down, and I shoved my soul blade right into his angel heart—or whatever was there. I yanked out my blade as his mouth opened and then he fell sideways to the ground. He didn’t get up.

  Ah, hell. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  The room went suddenly silent. Too silent. I looked up, only to find a cluster of angry angels, their blades pointed at me.

  Damn it all to the Netherworld. Just when I thought I’d made peace with the glowing bastards, I had angels on my ass again. Spectacular.

  From all directions, in a whirling cloud around me, the angels charged, the bright silver metal of their blades winking in the air.

  And I was a dead Hunter.

  Rough hands yanked me back, and then Gareth slipped past me, his hands swinging in and out of his coat as elf dust shot from them. A cloud of pink dust showered the first line of charging angels, and with a clap of thunder, the angels went down.

  No sooner did their comrades hit the floor, and another group of angels took their place. Their eyes filled with disdain and the calm collective of a killer’s gaze.

  Gareth moved back until we were side by side, my shoulder brushing up against his. My heart thudded. The angels surrounded us. I shot my gaze around, but I couldn’t see Tyrius.

  “She’s escaping!” shouted a voice.

  United, we all turned towards the voice, our enemies forgotten.

  A shimmering ring-like shape stood next to Layla. It was like the air itself had come together to form a circle.

  Subconsciously, I extended my senses toward the ring and could feel the quiver of demon energies moving through the air around the ring like a soundless drone of high-tension electrical lines. Through the ring I felt the pull of mortal reality, and a haze lay over it. I could see shadows of whirling masses of things and beings on the other side. What was on the other side?

  And with the Holy Grail in her hand, Layla stepped through the ring. A last shimmer of the circle pulsed and then it was gone, taking Layla with it.

  21

  It was a little past 9 p.m. by the time we got to my grandmother’s place. I sat at her kitchen table, replaying the night’s events in my head—trying to sort everything out but failing miserably.

  Layla had escaped with the Holy Grail.

  Lucian had probably already sprouted his wings.

  And the damn angels had tried to kill me. Super-duper.

  It’s what I liked to call a very unproductive night. They’d also tried to kill Layla with their glowing white spheres, something I’d never seen before. And they probably would have if I hadn’t intervened.

  The Legion never ceased to surprise me. The Legion never shared.

  I hated these scheming glowing bastards.

  Once we’d all seen Layla disappear through the portal, the angels stopped their attack on me and left, carrying the bodies of their dead meat suits. I’d glared at Jenna on her way out with them, Gareth holding my arm so I wouldn’t throw myself at her in a rage. Though Tyrius giving her the finger had given me some relief.

  It couldn’t have gone any worse, even if I had planned it myself.

  I stared at my plate, at the steaming slice of veggie pizza, but every time my hand went to reach for it, bitter bile rose in my throat. Finally, I pushed the plate away.

  I’d sent my gran to bed after her fourth glass of wine. The more I shouted and ranted about the backstabbing angels, the more she drank. I stopped shouting so I wouldn’t make her sick with worry. But the ranting never stopped.

  “You do realize that after what happened tonight,” said Tyrius, sitting on the chair next to me, Kora nestled beside him, “the Legion is going to send more angels after us.”

  “After me,” I corrected. “Not you. Okay, maybe Gareth too.” I looked at the elf sitting across from me and he gave me a tight smile. He had administered a green ointment on his cheek where he’d been cut, and I was surprised and curious to see that it was already healing. The cut was a thin line and barely noticeable. I wouldn’t be surprised if it disappeared completely in a few weeks.

  “Thanks for saving my ass again,” I told the elf.

  “You’re welcome.” His smile shifted, replaced by a look of burden. “I still have some bodies to dispose of,” said the elf as he took a sip of coffee. “They’re starting to smell.”

  “Nice,” said Tyrius.

  “I can’t keep them in the back of my truck much longer. Humans are bound to notice.”

  “Bury them in the back yard,” offered Tyrius, a smile on his face. His eyes widened and he added, “Compost for Gran’s garden. Bet she’ll grow some heavenly flowers with heaven’s dung.”

  I tried to laugh, but it sounded like I had something stuck in my throat. My tension and worry grew, festering in me like a slow-growing tumor.

  My eyes fell back on Tyrius. “That portal Layla disappeared through. Was it a Rift to the Netherworld? It looked a little different from the ones I’ve seen before.” If Layla started with frequent trips to the Netherworld, she would become a full-fledged demon and then she would be lost to me forever.

  “No,” answered Tyrius, confirming my suspicions. “It was a portal, but not to the Netherworld.”

  I let out a small sigh of relief. “Where then?” I asked, wondering if Lucian had some million-dollar penthouse somewhere in New York City. He was bound to have something on this side of the planes.

  “Beats me,” answered the cat. “It closed before I could get a good reading.”

  I grabbed the edge of the table with my fingers. “So, Layla and Lucian are toasting to his new wings somewhere in this world and we have no idea where they are. That’s just freaking awesome.”

  “I know where they are,” said a familiar voice behind me.

  Kora and Tyrius hissed and I jumped to my feet, my soul blade in my hand as I spun around.

  Jenna and Lance stood in my gran’s kitchen.

  “Look who it is,” snarled Tyrius, his blue eyes shimmering with his demon energy. “Cosmic douche and cosmic doucher.”

  I gritted my teeth, my blood pounding in my veins. I shook as hot vehemence welled in me, my muscles tight with barely controlled fury. Jenna had either giant cosmic balls or was really stupid to show up at my gran’s after what she pulled. I was going to kill her. I didn’t care that she was an angel. She was a liar. She’d wanted to kill Layla.

  “You must have a death wish, coming here after what you did,” I said slowly, seething inside. The sound of a chair scraping the tile floor hit me as Gareth slowly got to his feet.

  Jenna had the nerve to take a step closer. “I’m sorry about… about what happened,” she said, her voice tight but light. “I know you’re upset.”

  “Upset?” I laughed. My breath hissed out. In a quick motion, I leapt at her. I saw her blink in surprise just as my fist connected with her jaw. The force of the hit reverberated all the way up to my elbow. It was a damn good hit.

  Jenna stumbled back, her grunt of pain a satisfying sound to my ears. Hell, I almost smiled.

  Lance growled, his lips pulled back and his body crouched to pounce on me.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you, little puppy,” said Kora, who’d jumped to the floor and put herself in the dog’s face, her back arched and her yellow eyes alig
ht with a promise of pain.

  Tyrius leapt off the chair to join Kora. “I’d listen to the wife if you don’t want your meat suit to end up in a doggy bag.”

  Her hand still on her jaw, Jenna looked at me, her own anger growing.

  “What?” I sneered. “More? I’ve got loads more. I’ve got all night to kick your sorry ass back to Horizon. I’ve got nothing else to do now that you screwed everything up.”

  Jenna straightened slowly. “I was just following orders. Nothing personal.”

  “Oh, but it is personal, you glowing bitch,” I said, my blood seeming to seep out of my pores. “You tried to kill my sister. Your friends tried to kill me too.”

  “Only because you got in their way,” she answered, and I saw Gareth tense, his hands in his coat pockets. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m sorry about that.”

  I pointed my soul blade in her face. “I should have never trusted you.”

  “You must see the bigger picture here,” said Jenna, her eyes on me. “I had orders to get the Holy Grail and kill your sister if she got in the way. I didn’t want to do it, but in battle sometimes we have to make difficult choices. One life in order to save thousands. It was the logical thing to do. We had to keep Lucian from getting the Holy Grail.”

  “And how did that work out for you?” I took a breath. “He has it now. Game over.” I pointed my blade towards the door. “Get the hell out. The only reason I’m not slicing you up into angel cubes is because I’m tired, and I don’t want the Legion hunting my ass again.” My face twisted in a snarl. “You’ve got ten seconds to get out before I change my mind. Out. Now.”

  “You’re right,” said Jenna, her voice sharp but her anger easing. “We screwed up. Lucian has the Holy Grail. But we can still stop him.”

  “We?” I laughed dryly. “Are you high on your stupid pills? There’s no we. There never was a we. You made that perfectly clear when you hid your true plans from us.”

  Jenna moved her hand around her jaw. “You can hate me all you want. I’m not here to be your friend.”

  “Hallelujah.” The bitch must be smoking crack if she thought we could ever be friends, or this was her attempt at redemption.

  The angel sighed in irritation, and my lips quirked into a smile. “We need to stop Lucian.”

  I lifted my hands in annoyance. “There’s that damn we again,” I said, making Tyrius snort.

  “If he gets his wings back,” pressed Jenna, her eyes flashing with fear, “Horizon will fall. Angels will die. He will destroy it.”

  “Lucian getting his wings back is not my problem,” I said, waving my weapon at her. “He’s your problem now. Deal with it.”

  “He’ll destroy humanity next,” she said. “Is that what you want?”

  I glowered. “Don’t patronize me, angel. I’m done with your bullshit.”

  “Here! Here!” said Tyrius. He gave a daring look at Lance, testing the dog to see if he’d react.

  My brow furrowed in anger and frustration. “What he does with the Holy Grail is not my problem. This is on you. On the Legion. On all of you. Leave me the hell out of it.” I was getting tired of repeating myself. If she didn’t leave in the next few seconds, I was going to cut out her pretty eyes.

  Jenna’s jaw clenched and then relaxed. “Do you care what happens to Layla? Or have you forgotten about her already?”

  I stilled. “You do have a death wish.” I moved forward until I was right in her face and could practically count the fake pores on her face—a face I was about to cut up.

  This time, Lance did move forward a step, his growl loud, echoing in the kitchen like the howl of a pack of wolves.

  “You wake Gran,” warned Kora, her fur rising around her and her tail slashing in a silent threat, “and there’ll be hell to pay, pup.”

  “Rowyn,” cautioned Gareth. I felt the air shift behind me and his voice nearing as he made his way closer. “Take it easy. Let’s all just take it easy.”

  But I wasn’t listening. “You dare bring up my sister’s name to me like that? After you tried to have her killed? Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat right now just because I hate the way you smell?”

  Jenna never looked away from my glare. “I’m not here to harm you, Rowyn.”

  Gareth stepped in my line of sight. “She’s right. She hasn’t drawn her weapon. Back off, Rowyn.”

  I didn’t move. “How do I know she didn’t bring back-up? There could be a hundred angels waiting just outside to kill us all.”

  “There aren’t,” answered Lance, but I kept my eyes on Jenna. If her hand moved a muscle, I was going to gut the bitch. “It’s just me and Jenna. We came to ask for your help.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “If you help us find the Holy Grail,” expressed Jenna, eyebrows high, “we’ll help Layla in return.”

  I narrowed my eyes and said sourly, “What kind of crap is spewing out of your mouth now? Do you take me for an idiot?”

  Jenna looked affronted. “It’s the truth. The Holy Grail can save your sister.”

  I stiffened. “I’m not buying your bullshit anymore, angel,” I shot back at her.

  Jenna’s eyes flashed with sudden anger and she opened her mouth to say something but then closed it. “You said it yourself. The Holy Grail has healing properties. It can lift the curse and eliminate the darkness from your sister. It can remove it completely from her. She’ll be like she was before. She’ll be Layla again.”

  I clenched my jaw until it hurt. “Tyrius?”

  “The bitch seems to be telling the truth.” Tyrius thought about it a moment. “This could be what you wanted all along, the celestial power to remove the darkness,” he added, his voice hopeful, and it rendered my chest tight.

  Could this really be true? Could Layla be saved?

  The tightness of Jenna’s features eased, the distant glint of a victory in her eyes. “You help us get the Holy Grail back and your sister will be saved.”

  I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t believe for one minute that if I got my hands on the Holy Grail, the angels would take the time to heal Layla from the curse. But I was going to make them do it, or I was keeping the cup.

  I thought about it a moment. “If that is true, why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “It wasn’t my call. I was just—”

  “Following orders,” I finished. “No minds of your own, eh. Just a cluster of glowing robots.”

  Both Kora and Tyrius laughed, the sound like wind chimes in my ears—lovely. I realized how much I missed just sitting around with them, talking and laughing. That was my normal. And I missed it. I wanted it back—a chance at my normal again.

  Jenna glowered but she said nothing. She needed me. That was obvious. It was the only reason she’d risk showing up here when she knew I might kill her ass. That was very interesting.

  I took a step back. “You said you know where Lucian is?”

  “Yes,” said Jenna, the relief in her expression obvious.

  “Not in the Netherworld, I gather?” I said as I sheathed my blade.

  Jenna shook her head, visible tension leaving her body. “He can’t take the Holy Grail to that cursed world for what he needs to do. It can never enter. If he tried, he would cross over and the Grail would be left behind.”

  “So how does he get his wings back? Does he need to drink from it?” I wondered if he was going to drain Layla’s blood, and fear shook me.

  “He’ll need to perform the ritual first. It’s a very complex ritual that only a few angels are aware of. There are components, ingredients he needs to gather.”

  “Like what?”

  Jenna regarded me with luminous, unblinking eyes. “He needs blood of the believer and blood of the fallen. He needs the essence of both shadow and light.”

  And then it hit me. “He’s going to sacrifice Layla for his wings.” Oh, God. I had to find her.

  “When all the components are gathered,” said Jenna, her expression pulled tightly, “he’ll c
ombine them all into the Holy Grail, and then he will drink from it. Giving him his wings back.”

  My pulse throbbed and I felt sick. This could have been me. Lucian could have used me all along for this damned cup. Now, Layla was going to lose her life over it. I wasn’t about to let that happen. I wouldn’t let her die. If there was a chance the Holy Grail could save her, I was going to do whatever it took to get it.

  I exhaled loudly. “How long do we have?”

  “A couple of hours,” answered Jenna. “This ritual is long. It’ll take him hours just to prepare it. Enough time to find him and stop him before he has the chance to finish it.”

  “What else?”

  Jenna arched her brows. “The ritual needs to be completed right before sunrise. Otherwise he’ll have to start over again the following night.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “And your orders are to have me help you find the cup, and then you’ll use it to cure Layla?”

  “Yes,” nodded the angel. “My orders are to lift the curse from your sister with the Holy Grail. You have my word.”

  Tyrius snickered. “The word of an angel blows cosmic farts.”

  I had to agree with my kitty cat on that. My gut told me something was off here.

  I frowned at her. “Why me? I’m just a lonely Hunter. You’re angels and have a Legion to back you up. How do you expect me to defeat the archdemon in the middle of a ritual he’s been planning for years? With my charm? He’ll probably have an army of demons with him. Oh. And he’ll have Layla of course.”

  I paused at something that flickered across Jenna’s face when she looked down at Lance.

  “What?”

  Jenna shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable. “There’s something else.”

  “I knew it!” snarled Tyrius. “There’s always a catch with these bloody angels.”

  I turned at the cat’s voice, my strain rising so fast I felt lightheaded. “What are you not telling me?” I didn’t like the tension that was growing between the two angels. “You want my soul or something?” I laughed, though it didn’t sound convincing.

  Jenna pressed her lips together. “Mortals can’t touch the Holy Grail or any other holy instrument—not without dying a horrible, painful death.”