Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  Danto was a mix of hysterical anger and feverish fear. He wanted to save his Layla, and my heart ached for him. It took a few minutes of convincing and skillful lying to get him to go back to bed. I didn’t want Gareth to dust him into a coma. My vampire friend had gone through enough. He’d only allowed me to help him back into bed when I told him that Jenna, the angel, was going to cure Layla. Total lie, and I was surprised she actually played along. Guess she’d do just about anything to get her hands on the Holy Grail.

  I hated having to lie to Danto, but there was no way I’d let him come with us. His movements were stiff and slow, and he could barely walk as it was. Finally, with the vampire safely tucked into his bed, we’d hurried out.

  There was only one other place I could think of where I knew Layla would be safe and alone until the arrival of Lucian—a place she’d been before, somewhere she knew no one would look for her.

  It took us nearly forty-five minutes to drive north to Parks Hollow, to the late Lisbeth’s lab. Combined with the short excursion to Danto’s back in New York City, we’d lost a total of ninety minutes.

  We had approximately thirty minutes left to find Layla and somehow manage to overpower her and grab the Holy Grail. Yeah, it sounded impossible.

  Gareth’s pickup truck jolted over the railroad tracks. The angel bodies in the back hitting the sides of the box were a reminder of how powerful Layla had become. The four of us sat in a collective anxious silence as we drove into the old part of town, me next to Gareth with Tyrius on my lap and Jenna next to the window. It was uncomfortable at best. I’d never been so close to an angel before, and I made sure I was pressed up enough against Gareth without looking like I was sitting on his lap. I didn’t want to have my thigh accidently brush hers. Because that would be awkward. She was a celestial being, a walking corpse. She wasn’t mortal.

  But then I had Tyrius, a baal demon sitting comfortably on my lap.

  It didn’t help that twenty of her dead comrades were riding in the back with us.

  By the time the address 1295 Industrial came into view, I was feeling slightly claustrophobic. Gareth pulled into the driveway and parked. He’d barely turned off the ignition as I scrambled for the door, pushing him out with me.

  The smile he gave me as he helped me out the door before I fell out flat on my face nearly made my heart melt. The warmth of his hands seared through my thin shirt, and he held me there longer than necessary.

  “This is the ugliest building I’ve ever laid eyes on,” claimed Tyrius as he padded on the cement walkway. “It looks like a giant aluminum box just threw up its lunch. No wonder Lisbeth picked it. It threw her up too.”

  Regretfully, I broke away from Gareth’s grip. “I never thought I’d see it again,” I said, remembering how Lisbeth had nearly killed my gran, Kora, and Tyrius and had nearly finished me off too. Bile rose up in the back of my throat at the sight of it. I didn’t think you could actually hate a building, but what I was feeling now was pretty close.

  It was also where Ethan, Miguel, Hannah and James had all perished—all because they didn’t want to share the gift. Dumbasses.

  “You think she’s in there?” questioned Jenna, a slight grimace on her face as she took in the rust-covered building.

  I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I was certain she was. “Yeah. She’s in there.” I hoped my instincts were right this time because I couldn’t afford to be wrong again.

  “You were wrong about the vampire’s apartment.”

  Touché. What the hell did she want me to say? Yes, I was wrong and you win? I clenched my jaw tightly so I wouldn’t cuss out the damn angel—because I really, really wanted to.

  I looked at Jenna and her expression became empty of emotion again. Fantastic.

  With my temper rising like a fever, we all made our way towards the rust-plagued warehouse and headed for the large metal doors. Gareth pulled them open, and we rushed in.

  The interior of the warehouse was exactly as I remembered, big and ugly, except for one huge difference. It was empty. All those thousands of moisture-wrapped wood crates that had packed the warehouse were gone. And the racks that had reached the ceiling were empty. What remained, though, was the reek of disinfectant and bleach. What the hell happened here?

  It was also darker. I counted only one tubular light fixture spilling down light from the ceiling. The others were burnt out.

  “What?” questioned Tyrius, seeing my reaction.

  “It used to be packed with crates,” I replied, my voice low. “Thousands of them.”

  The cat whistled low. “Looks like the Gray Council hired a cleanup crew,” said the baal demon, and he padded forward without a sound while my boots clanked loudly on the cement floor. I needed a better pair of boots.

  I glanced around the now empty warehouse, wondering what else they’d taken and why. What had Lisbeth been hiding in those crates? Now I would never know. Oh well. I had a feeling discovering what was inside those crates would have been very interesting.

  Tyrius halted, standing with his right front leg bent close to his body and his tail straight out behind him like a pointer. “She’s here.”

  I threw out my senses, scanning for angel and demonic energies similar to my own. I felt the familiar throb of energies, faint, but there. But I couldn’t detect anything else, and no smell of cigarette smoke either. Lucian wasn’t here yet.

  But there was another presence, something stronger—the channeling of very old, ancient power. It filled my senses, my aura, like a bright, dazzling glow of energy. It leaked over my soul and spindled a wad of it in my head. The rush of power struck hard, and I clenched my fingers as I felt it leave through me. Holy shit.

  “You feel that?” questioned Tyrius, and I cursed. “That’s got to be the Holy Grail. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

  My pulse thrummed. “It means she took it out of the box.” We shared a look.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to give it to Lucian.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if that’s worse or better.”

  With my heart in my throat, I made to move, but someone grabbed my arm.

  “Rowyn.” Gareth held on to my arm, his expression shifting to alarm. “You know that’s not your sister in here. Not anymore.”

  I’d already gone through all the technicalities about Layla’s DNA with Tyrius. Now was not the time to go through it with the elf.

  “I get it. Let go of my arm please.”

  “You can’t let your emotions get in the way,” said the elf, and I hated that Jenna had moved closer to listen to our not-so-private conversation. Damn that angel.

  “I won’t.” If I didn’t try to save her ass, who would?

  He bobbed an eyebrow at me, never letting go of my arm. “The darkness is in her now. Don’t forget that. She nearly killed you and Danto. And from how you described it to me, she wanted to kill him.”

  “I know.”

  “The Layla we know loved that vampire,” he stated, his expression grim. “She would never have harmed him. This isn’t Layla. She’s an extension of Lucian. He’s in her. Controlling her.”

  “I know that too.”

  “I know you care for her,” the elf exhaled softly. “She’s not about to hand over the Holy Grail. She’s under Lucian’s spell.”

  “He’s not here yet,” I said, my insides twisting. “I can get through to her. She’ll listen to me. I just need to talk to her and make her see who Lucian truly is. That he’s a selfish asshole.”

  “Maybe,” said Gareth. “Maybe not.” He pressed his lips together and then said, “You need to be strong. You need to think about what will happen if she doesn’t listen.”

  Pissed, I yanked my arm out of his grip. “What the hell are you trying to say?” I hissed as low as I could. “I thought we agreed. If things got hot, you would restrain her with your elf dust.” When the elf said nothing, I pressed. “Gareth?”

  The elf bowed his head closer to me and said, “There’s a
chance my magic won’t affect her.”

  I glowered and pulled back. “What about the dragon’s breath?”

  Gareth shook his head. “I used it all on Danto.”

  I inhaled slowly, trying to find a state of calm. “We don’t have time for this.” Lucian will be here at any moment.

  And when Jenna yanked out her soul blade, I nearly lost it.

  Frustrated, my anger fueled my legs, and I was practically jogging as I reached the back door. Tyrius was already next to it.

  “Ready?” Tyrius looked up at me, and his loyalty and belief in me fueled me with confidence.

  “Ready,” I answered, blood pounding through me.

  “You know what you’re going to say to her?”

  “Not really. I thought I’d just wing it.”

  Tyrius grinned. “You’re crazy. You know that?”

  “It’s why you love me.”

  The truth was, Layla could have hit me harder with her new powers back at Danto’s apartment. In fact, she could have killed me. But she didn’t.

  I had to believe that meant something. I had to believe under all that darkness, that power and the demon, my sister was still in there somewhere. I could still reach her.

  With Gareth and Jenna behind us, I pulled open the door and stepped through. We piled into a large workroom where there’d been tables teeming with computers, microscopes, and other elements normally found in a modern lab when I’d first seen it. There had been a large metal cage with my gran, Kora and Tyrius imprisoned in it. I’d never forget it.

  Now it was empty, save for a few footprints scattered on the dust-covered concrete floor, the only evidence that the Gray Council had come and gone—and Layla.

  She sat on an empty crate. A small silver metal box lay open at her feet.

  And on her lap was a golden cup. The Holy Grail.

  19

  “ H ey, big sister. I had a feeling you might show up,” said Layla, sounding like herself and not the demon-like, guttural voice I’d heard her use when she’d nearly fried my ass. From where I was, I could see that her eyes were brown, not black, and I took that as a sign she hadn’t completely surrendered to the archdemon power.

  Her lean figure was perfectly enclosed in a tight leather black ensemble of bustier and pants. She finished off the look with red knee-high boots. She wore her hair in a slicked back low ponytail, which only accentuated her pretty features. I couldn’t see any weapons on her, not that she would need them. She was the weapon with the power inside her.

  “Hi, Layla.” Jaw clenched, I strode towards her but stopped with about twenty feet between us. I decided that was close enough to have our conversation and still close enough to the only exit in this damned place in case I needed to split in a hurry. Tyrius settled next to me on my right as Gareth and Jenna came around to stand on my left.

  “I see the gang’s all here.” Layla cocked her head. “Who’s the glowing bitch?”

  “That’s Jenna,” I said, grinning. I couldn’t help it.

  “I thought you hated angels,” said Layla, a curious smile on her face.

  “I do.” From the corner of my eye I saw Jenna’s attention snap to me. I didn’t have time to think about whether I hurt her feelings. She better get on board.

  Layla’s eyes were on Jenna’s soul blade and they narrowed. I raised my hands, palms up, so she could see that my hands were empty. I wasn’t a threat.

  “Nice cup,” I said, trying to change the subject and get her on track with my plan. I was glad Layla was in a good mood. So far so good. “But it clashes with your outfit.”

  Layla threw back her head and laughed. “I’ve always liked that about you. Your raw sense of humor.” She crossed her legs casually at the knee, sobering fast as her dark companion slipped in behind her eyes. “You know your weapons can’t kill me.” She blinked, and her pupils flashed black.

  Crap . “Who said anything about killing you? It’s not why I’ve come.”

  “Really?” said Layla. “Then why have you come?” She flashed me her straight white teeth. “This?” she raised the cup like she was about to give a toast. “You came for this?”

  “I did.” There was no point in lying.

  Layla giggled like a schoolgirl. Her face even changed color. “You can’t have it. It doesn’t belong to you.”

  “It doesn’t belong to Lucian either,” I said, and Layla let a cruel smile curve the corners of her mouth. I took a steadying breath. “Did he tell you what he wanted it for?”

  “Questions. Questions. Questions.” Layla waved her free hand at me. “What is it with you and all these questions?” Her entire posture now had the relaxed tension of the powerful, sort of a satisfied lioness look after a kill. With a flick of her wrist, tendrils of darkness coiled around her left hand, spiraling around her fingers and her wrists like eerie jewelry. Now she was just showing off. She reminded me of Lucian, and that scared the hell out of me.

  Jenna shifted her weight next to me, her soul blade gripped firmly in her hand. I could almost feel the tension coming off of her. If she was stupid enough to go after Layla, she would die. Not my problem.

  “What do you think Lucian is going to do once he gets the cup?” I asked again, and Layla glanced sharply at me. “You think he’s going to keep you around as his pet? This was his plan all along. You do see that. Right? His previous gift was bullshit. It’s always been about this cup. He doesn’t give a damn about you.”

  Layla’s smile widened. “Did you really think you could come here and talk me into giving you this cup? The cup I had to work so hard for?” Her black eyes darted to Jenna. “I killed angels for that. They begged for their lives just before I took them,” she added, satisfied at the fury behind Jenna’s eyes.

  I stiffened. “I did. I still do. I think, deep down, you know I’m right.”

  “Then you’re an idiot,” said Layla, her voice smooth and confident. It was hard to see my sister through this armor of new evil, but I had to believe she was still in there.

  “This isn’t you,” I tried again.

  “I like the new me. I’m a new kind of demon, of darkness,” she said, and a shudder rolled through me. “I’m your worst nightmare come to walk this side of the world. I have thousands of years of demon power surging through my veins. I live and breathe darkness. I’m so tainted with it that I will use it without thought, without guilt, and without hesitation. Why would I want to go back to plain, ordinary Layla?” she said, the words soft as rain and as commanding as a god’s. “Why would I want to be the shadow of my big sister? Of the famous Hunter, Rowyn Sinclair? I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “It was never like that and you know it.”

  In one fluid motion, Layla swung her legs off the crate and stood. “You know nothing about me,” she hissed. “You don’t know what it’s like not to be born like a normal child, but made… made into this weak nobody. But I’m not weak anymore.”

  “No, more like crazy,” muttered Tyrius. Layla’s focus drifted to him and I shivered.

  “Danto didn’t think you were weak,” I tried. I had to reach her somehow. I searched her face for a reaction, but her features were glued in a manic smile. “He loved you for who you are. And you killed him,” I lied.

  Again I searched her face for a small twitch of recognition, something that showed me a part of Layla was still in there. But her coal-black eyes were empty of emotion.

  Damn. Layla was gone.

  Her face lit up. “Just like I’m going to kill you.” She giggled. She was almost dancing, swinging her arms, the Holy Grail sliding in her loose grip.

  If only I could reach it…

  “Father will be most pleased,” chanted Layla, the gluttonous light of power in her eyes. “You were a disappointment, see. But with you out of the way… there’ll be just me. Me. Me. Me. And Father. As it should have always been.”

  “He was never my father,” I told her, and took a careful step closer, my eyes on the Holy Grail. “You can keep the c
hain-smoking bastard.”

  Layla’s features twitched as a wash of dark energy flowed around her. She was wreathed in a sheet of black haze, her entire body blazing as she summoned her darkness, power spilling from her.

  Shit. That was bad. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and a shiver rose through me.

  With her face set in a fierce intensity, the fingers of her left hand stilled as coils of darkness waited in her palm. She could fry our asses with a flick of one of her fingers.

  But she hadn’t. Not yet.

  The scent of lavender rose as Gareth spoke in slow, careful syllables, his stance firm and determined, his hands inside his coat pockets.

  “Don’t,” I hissed. I’m almost there.

  A hard expression replaced Gareth’s determination, reminding me of how badass he was with that elf dust. “Rowyn,” he warned, lowering his voice, his shoulders tight with tension. The skin around his eyes gave away his distress. “I can’t wait any longer. She’s going to kill us. Look at her. This isn’t your sister anymore. Your sister’s dead.”

  “I’m with the elf,” muttered the cat in a low voice at my feet. “Dust her now before it’s too late.”

  “It’s already too late,” chimed Layla, her smile telling us that she’d heard everything we said. Guess the darkness came with super-hearing. “It’s too late for the humans. Too late for the angels. And it’s too late for you.”

  My face went cold. “Why does he want the cup, Layla?” my voice rose. Her smile twitched, and I knew I was onto something. “He didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you because he doesn’t want to share anything with you. Don’t you get it? You’re just a pawn. He used you.”

  Fury flashed in her black eyes, her pretty features drawing up into what was almost a snarl. She drew herself straight and said, “You know nothing.”

  “I know about the wings,” I told her and heard her intake of breath over the thrumming of blood in my ears. “That’s right. I know he wants his wing back. He wants to be an archangel again. And where does that leave you? Nowhere. A demon-thing. A creature of his own making. He can’t take you to Horizon with him. He’s going to abandon you. Because you were just a tool.”