Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  I’d always admired and loved spending time in cemeteries while I was alive. There was money to be made, yes, with all the ghouls and other supernatural nasties, but it was also peaceful and quiet. I had done a lot of thinking in cemeteries.

  “How does this cemetery make you feel?” came Tyrius’s voice, shaking me out of my thoughts.

  I peered down at the cat. “What do mean? Like the chills?”

  The cat snickered. “You’re dead. They’re dead. It’s like a big ‘ol family reunion for you. Isn’t it?”

  “Idiot.”

  “Angel.”

  I gave a small laugh. “Stupid cat,” I said, matching the smile on Tyrius’s smug face. “Took you long enough to come around. You can’t catch what I have, you know. There’s no angel virus.” Not that I know of.

  “Give a demon a break,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re an angel now. My sworn enemy.”

  “Your only sworn enemy is what happens to you after you’ve eaten five large pizzas all by yourself.”

  The cat chuckled. “Yeah. You’re right.” He laughed harder. “You as an angel… is going to take some getting used to.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  Tyrius leaped over a fallen tombstone. “Rowyn, a goddamn angel. Who would have thought?”

  “Not me.”

  “Or me.”

  “I’m still the same person, Tyrius,” I added, aware that Gareth was probably listening. “I might be dead. But my soul is the same. And my mind. I’m still going to tell you when you’re being an ass.”

  “I know.” Tyrius was quiet for a moment, his tread silenced by the tall grass. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was a total ass.”

  I felt a tightness in my chest. “Yeah. You were. Don’t worry about it. I’m used to you spazzing out once a month. Make that twice a month.”

  “Still, you can’t blame me. I’m only a demon,” said the cat, pointedly.

  A smile tugged at my lips. “Whatever you say, little kitty.”

  Tyrius glanced up and made a little huff of amusement. “So, how do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  “Yes, but… how does it feel , feel?” prompted the cat as he walked next to me. “How does it feel to be a walking, glowing celestial airhead?”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “It’s weird. I’ll admit,” I answered truthfully, knowing exactly what he wanted to know and knowing that was something Gareth wanted to hear as well. I spoke a little louder. “The body part is strange. Not needing to breathe? That’s the weirdest thing. I still haven’t figured it out. I keep telling myself that I don’t need to, that I don’t need to fill my lungs with air, but it’s like my mind is still functioning on mortal-mode. It’s hard to unlearn what I’ve been doing for the past twenty-four years of my life.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “The skin is odd,” I said, for lack of a better word, and I turned my hand over, examining it. “I’m not hot or cold… I’m just indistinctly warm, I guess. You know, when we heard the angels comment about wearing mortal suits when they’re on this side of the planes. Well. That’s exactly how I would describe it. A thin layer on top of your skin.”

  “Like how men feel when they wear a rubber?”

  I let out a snort and nearly tripped over a flagstone with my new angel legs. “I wouldn’t know.”

  With a lip-curling sneer, Tyrius said, “It makes perfect sense. Angels are just a bunch of glowing, walking rubbers.” He beamed. “It’s awesome. Can’t wait to tell Kora.”

  “You’re one crazy cat. You know that?” I laughed. God, I was going to miss that cat. If I survived tonight, I didn’t think the Legion would let me hang around with him anymore. Or Danto, Layla, Gareth. After tonight, everything would change.

  Tyrius let out a long sigh and said, “Thank the souls you didn’t come back as a mutt like that one,” said the cat as he gave a nod of his head in the direction of Lance.

  There was a growl, and then came the dog’s voice, high with annoyance. “I heard that.”

  “I don’t care,” Tyrius called back.

  A deep bark of displeasure came from the big White German Shepherd, making the baal demon laugh.

  “We can do this,” said the cat with his tail straight up in the air. “We’re a team. I don’t even mind that you’re a walking, glow-in-the-dark rubber. We’re going to be okay.”

  “I know.” It was what I was waiting to hear. What I wanted to believe, but I knew it would never be the same. Ever. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that after tonight, I’d probably never see him again.

  Still, it was nice to pretend that it was just like before, for a little while. And I felt some tension leave me.

  “We’re almost there,” said Jenna as she glanced over her shoulder at me.

  In silence I followed. Lance moved skillfully through the tall grasses and fallen stones, his white fur catching glimpses of sporadic moonlight and looking every bit like his wolf ancestors. If he was allowed to use a wolf as his mortal suit, maybe I’d ask the oracle if I could be a cat on my next assignment. Bet Tyrius would love that.

  A cold, relentless energy pressed against me. It crawled up my skin. The air wavered and shook with demonic energy as though a mass of demons had just crossed over from the Netherworld. And then I heard them, the whispering guttural grunts and voices of demons whispering through the air, dozens, hundreds of murmurs. I yanked out my soul blade.

  Gareth appeared next to me a heartbeat later, making me flinch. Damn, even as an angel, I didn’t feel him coming.

  He cleared his throat, “Rowyn—”

  “Forget it,” I said, the tightness in his face telling me exactly what he was going to say.

  Tyrius looked up at me, giving me the “let him speak” eyes, but I didn’t have time for this. His reaction earlier made it clear. He was afraid of me.

  It had been a normal reaction, pulling away from my hand. It wasn’t his fault. And I didn’t blame him. I just didn’t want my mixed emotions getting in the way of my killing Lucian tonight. Because his ass was mine.

  “You don’t know what I wanted to say,” said the elf, his tone thick with anger. That made two of us.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. “You can’t pass through the demon wards. You’re not a demon.” A breeze lifted around us. Without a jacket I would have been cold, but I felt nothing. Weird. I was a walking corpse.

  “I’m here to help,” he said, his voice tight. “In case you need me.”

  I turned and looked at him. A deep sadness and worry pinched his eyes. I had to look away before I lost it.

  “A dark angel,” commented Gareth after a moment. “A dark angel because of your archdemon blood.”

  I shrugged and stepped over a fallen stone. “That’s what the oracle told me.”

  Gareth took a deep breath, and I felt myself longing to do the same. “It’s just so sudden. So unexpected. I never thought this would happen.”

  “And I never thought my parents would die. But they did.”

  The elf didn’t comment after that. We continued in silence, trampling through the tall grasses and shards of broken tombstones, following Jenna and Lance deep into the abandoned cemetery.

  I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I had to be ready. Somewhere between now and a few minutes, I was either going to succeed or fail miserably.

  I didn’t know what my new angel body was capable of. That was the only really exciting part of being a dark angel. New possibilities.

  Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous or scared. The only emotion I felt right now was anger. Deep, satisfying ass-kicking anger. I still didn’t know how to use the Holy Grail, but I would figure it out. I was an angel now—a dark angel—and I was going to use it to kill the archdemon bastard.

  Jenna halted suddenly and pointed to a headstone on her left.

  Demonic symbols and runes were painted in dark maroon on the stone. Though I had some knowl
edge of the demonic languages, there were still hundreds of different dialects, and these I didn’t know.

  Tyrius moved among the symbols, his eyes traveling over the markings, slowly. “I haven’t seen these kinds of symbols in a very long time,” informed the cat. He read one of the markings and then looked up at me. “These are old. Eons and eons old. Like… Biblical.” His gaze moved to Jenna and Lance. “You sure Lucian wants his wings back?”

  “Of course we’re sure,” snapped Jenna, her face pinched in a frown. “It’s the only reason he took the Holy Grail. To get them back. Why else would he be here?”

  The cat screwed up his face in a scowl. “You angels will never learn. The answer is not always about what’s in front of you, but rather what you can’t see. And with this guy, I’m guessing whatever you think he’s doing with the Holy Grail… it’s not it.”

  A quiver ran through me. “Tyrius. What do the symbols say?”

  And then somewhere in the darkness and shadows of the cemetery, a woman screamed.

  Layla.

  25

  I was running.

  It was a strange thing running without the feel of adrenaline or the gulping down of deep breaths that pushed me farther, harder. But what I did have was good old fear. Even as an angel, it was still a valuable emotion, one that propelled my legs faster.

  Whatever fuel was in this angel body had ignited, like the start of an engine. But not just any engine—a Bugatti engine.

  Holy crap! I’d never run this fast in my life before. Gravestones were a blur of grays as I soared through the mess of tall grasses and tombstones, my legs moving with superhuman velocity. I was unstoppable. My speed matched a vampire’s, and it was exhilarating. A nod to my angel body. Damn.

  My body resonated with the power of the unfamiliar angel body. It wasn’t unpleasant at all, and I wished it was.

  My surroundings barely registered as I sprinted in the direction I had heard Layla’s scream, hoping I was going the right way. I was running so damn fast I could have missed her. But when a faint, distant moan reached me, I knew I was on the right track.

  A sheet of black haze rose up before me, to envelop a part of the cemetery in a circle, arching both overhead and leveled with the earth, forming a dome of protection.

  I halted right before I smacked into it.

  Semi-transparent, I could see shadows of movement inside. I strained my eyes. The longer I looked, the shadows coagulated until I could see a silhouette of a tall man standing before a rectangular granite monument the size of a large table. Lucian. There was a faint hum of chanting, and tiny yellow lights flickered from candles on its flat top. In the middle of the candles, flickering in the ripples of light, was a golden cup. The Holy Grail.

  My gaze darted to the dark bundle on the ground next to Lucian’s feet. Layla.

  More demonic symbols were painted on the gravestones forming a ring around the sheet of haze like a protection circle. Angel wards. The arcane symbols ignited with a bright red glow, forming complex patterns on the gray stones as we moved closer. I could feel the wards. A tingle whispered through my mind with demonic power, a warning. I stiffened. Long, warped lines connected the symbols, crisscrossing and winding to each tombstone like a network of radiant lines.

  Lucian had sealed this part of the graveyard with his own blood. Damn. The power emitting just from his blood made my knees shake—from the promise of pain and from simple, primitive fear of darkness.

  I hated the bastard.

  “This is it,” said Jenna and she appeared next to me, staring at the black haze with enough hate to scare off little kids. “This is as far as we can go. These wards will kill us.”

  Lance came up next, followed by a panting Gareth and Tyrius.

  “Jesus, woman!” shrilled the cat. “Did you pop some speed or something?”

  My gaze flicked around the demon runes. With a soft shiver, the dark power spilling out from the wards rose through and around me, coalescing around my mind enough to leave a nasty taste of sulfur on my tongue.

  I stilled. What if they were wrong? What if I couldn’t pass through the wards?

  “It’s time, Rowyn,” urged Jenna, and she had the nerve to give me a slight shove. “You need to hurry. Get the Grail and bring it to me.”

  I stared at her, trying to calm my anger. “To you?” I was going to kill Lucian first, but she didn’t have to know that.

  “Yes,” she said and then added quickly. “Lucian won’t be able to fight us once we have the power of the Grail. He’ll be powerless against us.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes. The one who holds the Grail holds the power,” she said in a steady voice.

  That sounded like a cheesy action movie line. “And Layla?” You promised .

  Jenna’s eyes went past my shoulder to the bundle on the ground, and I could see the slight narrowing in her eyes. “We’ll save her too,” she said, though she didn’t sound convincing, and I could almost hear the lie in her voice.

  She thought Layla was dead. She wouldn’t help her.

  My anger soared. I didn’t know how to use the damn cup, but Jenna did. And I was going to make her do it. I’d kill her if I had to. Then we’d be even.

  Bracing myself, I took a step closer to the barrier of black haze and thrust my left hand through it—

  Fire suddenly erupted against my hand, thought-stealing pain radiating out from my fingers all the way up my spine.

  “Ow!” I cried as I jerked my hand back. Jolts of demon energy darted through my fingers and over my skin as the full spectrum of the ward spread to my hand, burning like fire. Oh, God, that hurt.

  Pain crawled over me like hot knives, cutting from my chest and working its way through me, and I screamed. I brought my hand to my face to see that it was covered in a black-hued energy, burning me from the outside in.

  Pain as an angel was the same as pain as a mortal. It hurt like hell.

  Black spots marred my vision. I moaned, bending forward as I strained to keep from passing out. Gareth reached for me and I lurched out of his reach, stumbling several steps away as I found my balance by myself.

  I lifted my head and glared at Jenna, seeing her frown. It wasn’t a concerned frown for my wellbeing. It was a frustrated frown that I couldn’t get through.

  “You told me I could get through!” I shouted, panicked but more pissed. I could have walked right in there headfirst. Angel or not, that would have definitely fried my brain. I looked at my hand again. The dark energy was gone but my hand was charred and blistered. Threads of white light seeped from the cracked skin on my hand, my angel essence.

  For the first time since I became an angel I felt a sudden surge of cold fill me. I’d died for nothing.

  “I don’t understand. It’s supposed to work,” said Jenna, clearly mystified.

  “It’s not.”

  “It has to.” Jenna grimaced. “You’re the only one with the archdemon essence. The Legion said so.”

  “The Legion was wrong. I can’t enter.”

  “Try it again,” commanded Jenna through gritted teeth, her eyes wide in confusion.

  I looked at Tyrius and he mouthed the word “no.”

  “Do it!” Jenna howled, and the bitch grabbed me by the arm. “Do it or we’ll all die!”

  I yanked my arm free. “Touch me again, and I’ll shove this soul blade into your brain,” I hissed, and I heard Lance growl.

  The next second, Gareth was next to me, his hands in his coat pocket with a strange smile on his face. It was almost like he wanted a fight with the angels.

  Jenna’s expression suddenly became manic. “You must get the Grail. Do you understand?” She took a step towards me, her soul blade pointed at my chest. “Do it now, or I’ll kill you.”

  “Do as she says,” threatened the dog, his lips pulled back to show his very large and pointy teeth, looking like he was about to take a bite out of me.

  Angels. Got to love them.

  “You
touch my Rowyn,” menaced Tyrius as he arched his back, his demon energies shifting around his fur indicating he was about to Hulk-out, “and I’ll rip your bastard angel skin from your bastard angel bones.”

  Oh, goodie. We were going to have a fight.

  “Do it!” Jenna screamed, her soul blade swinging dangerously close to my shirt. I stared at her. The bitch was going to stab me again. I believed it.

  But I wasn’t a fool. I knew if I stepped through that black haze, I was a dead angel. I’d already died once today. I wasn’t planning on dying twice.

  Through the black haze, Lucian’s voice rose in pitch, to something inaudible. He was chanting in an ancient language I’d never heard before. Though I couldn’t understand it, the tone and sense of his words were as clear as rain. They were words of hate, of darkness and suffering and of death.

  I forced my jaw to unclench. “Screw you.” I raised my own blade and lowered myself into a fighting crouch.

  “This is what you were meant to do!” she screamed. “It’s why you became an angel. Why the Legion chose you. You idiot! This is your mission. Your destiny.”

  “Screw my destiny,” I countered and heard Tyrius give a growl in agreement. “And screw your Legion. I know a scam when I see one. This here,” I waved my blade, “is all bullshit. If I step through that protective wall, I’m a dead angel. I can’t get the Grail if I’m dead.”

  Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “Think of the lives you’re going to let perish. Think of all the angels that will die because of you. The mortals. All those lives, gone. How can you be so selfish?”

  I cocked a brow. “To save my own ass? Very.”

  “I think I can help,” calmed Gareth, though his hands were still in his pockets. “I’ll need some time, but I think I can trick the ward into thinking Rowyn is a full-fledged demon.”

  My eyes darted to the elf. “Really?” I was seriously impressed.

  Gareth was nodding. “It’ll be tricky, but I’m confident I can manage. It would be like a glamour.”

  “There’s no time for your insignificant magic, elf!” shouted Jenna. “If Rowyn doesn’t get the Grail now, it won’t matter. You won’t matter. Your magic won’t matter because we’ll all be dead!”