Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  Layla sneered at what she saw on my face. She had gone stony still, gathering intent and power about her as if pulling it from the shadows itself.

  “You want this?” She lowered the Holy Grail to the floor and then stood. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she said, “Come and get it.”

  I stayed where I was. I wasn’t an idiot. If I moved, I was a fried Rowyn. She knew it. I knew it. This was a game to her, to see how long I’d last. And so far, she was winning.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m pretty eloquent in times of crisis.

  My heart thrashed against my ribcage but I didn’t move as she closed in on us, near enough I could smell her perfume mixed in the sulfur scent of her darkness.

  And then she flicked her fingers—

  A flash of black and then Gareth was there, flinging out his arms in quick successions. Blue and silver dust exploded out of his hands and showered Layla, like glowing faerie dust. There was sharp sound as the dust hit her, like the clap of thunder.

  Layla stared, transfixed, and then disappeared under the cloud. The air hissed and shifted. The dust shimmered and slowly the cloud of dust lifted. I held my breath.

  Layla stood, a winning smile on her face and her black eyes a promise of a powerful reckoning. “You really should have kept your hands to yourself, elf.”

  “Oh shit,” Tyrius whispered.

  “Oh shit is right.” I took a deep breath, feeling hopeless.

  “Time to split,” said the cat.

  I couldn’t agree with him more.

  Layla’s features twisted, savage and pale, her face hollow, hard, and unyielding. Her smile turned wicked as she focused on Gareth.

  In a blinding fast motion, Layla flicked her wrist, hurling tendrils of darkness from her hand.

  “Gareth!” I shouted and then cowered when I saw her flinging her other hand at me. I hit the floor, just as concrete exploded at the spot I’d been merely a half second ago.

  Heart pounding, I rolled and got to my feet. Gareth, covered in pink elf dust, dodged another blast from Layla, his coat sizzling with coils of black and some rippling from it.

  “Rowyn! We need to get the hell out of here!” cried Tyrius next to me.

  But my eyes were on the cup. Layla had moved away from it, tracking Gareth like a wild predator. It sat there, gleaming in the soft light, forlorn and forgotten.

  “Don’t,” hissed the cat, appearing next to me and seeing where my thoughts had shifted. “She’ll fry your ass. No offense, but she’s a hell of a lot faster than you.”

  My adrenaline rushed through me. I had seconds. “It’s now over never.”

  “Try never ,” warned the cat.

  Layla snarled, her face pinched and twisted making her look feline. In a blur, she flung another tendril of darkness at Gareth. He ducked in time to save his neck but took part of the slash across his cheek and hat. That side of his hat simmered in darkness, his cheek covered in a sheet of blood.

  Damn it. I took a breath, my muscles tightening as I focused on the Holy Grail. I lowered myself onto the balls of my feet—

  A low, loud bellow erupted from inside the building. I turned at the sound of rushing feet.

  And a horde of thirty angels came crashing through the doorway.

  20

  The angel army swooped in a gleaming storm of light and battle cries. The draft of the scent of citrus hit me, and my eyes watered. An equal mix of female and male, the angels were dressed in all black, complete with baldrics, heavy looking swords around their weapons belts, and leather bracers on their arms. Some had a single soul blade in their hand. Others had one in each hand.

  With a blur of white, Lance came bounding in with them. The White German Shepherd came without pause, wild and snarling and looking every bit the wolf I thought he was.

  I’d never seen so many angels at once. I didn’t know whether to be happy, relieved or angry at seeing them. But my anger won the emotional battle. More importantly, they’d ruined my chance at stealing the Holy Grail out from under Layla.

  We could have planned this better.

  “Christ. It’s an avalanche of glowing bastards,” breathed Tyrius, standing next to me.

  With their angel daggers gleaming, they bore straight down upon Layla in a terrifying rush.

  Granted, the sudden angel assault did manage to throw Layla off Gareth for the time being. The elf stood for a moment, panting. Shock creased his expression as his gaze traveled over the angels, his coat smoking like he’d just put out the fire that had been burning it.

  Layla’s sole attention snapped to the angels. She moved to stand next to the Holy Grail, her face twisting in a feral rage like a mother lioness protecting her cub. There was no way I was getting my hands on it now.

  But then Layla’s face shifted into a terrifying grin. She wanted to kill them.

  Covered in a sheet of darkness, the air pulsed with her power, and her energy cackled over her like before a lightning storm.

  She spun towards the rushing cavalry, laughing in wild abandon. She opened her mouth and wailed in utter rage. Her voice was like if the darkness itself could speak, the sound had tiny critters crawling up my spine.

  “Holy mother of all demons,” breathed Tyrius.

  Great. There was no way we could talk some sense into her now that she was high on darkness and pissed as hell.

  The air moved and shifted around me as the angel Legion charged, broke apart, and came barreling towards us.

  “Oh, shit.”

  The ground shook. They were everywhere. A merciless horde of soldiers, they charged, their eyes blind to us and everything around them except for their one objective—kill the darkness bitch.

  It was a goddamn angel stampede.

  “Look out!” I cried as an angel stormed at Tyrius. The cat’s fur bristled with white light and demon energy, but he’d be squished by the time he could Hulk-out into his alter ego, his black panther.

  Instincts kicked in and I reached out and snatched Tyrius, wrapping him around my neck before they trampled him.

  “Now, that’s the smartest thing you’ve done all night,” yelled the cat.

  I cried out as something hard hit me in the back. I stumbled and leaped out of the way as a wall of angels came rushing past me, their sharp blades up like spears. The bastards could have skewered me.

  I wasn’t a genius by any standards, but I was smart enough to see that the angels couldn’t care less about what happened to me. They were here for the Holy Grail.

  They all had that same look in their eyes. It was a get-out-of-the-way-or-I’ll-kill-you kind of look.

  The pounding in my ears gave way to the chimes and rasps of steel hitting the concrete floor along with the shrieks and cries of dying angels. Layla didn’t even have to touch them with her hands anymore. Her darkness did the job well enough. They were dropping like flies, literally.

  Layla spread her arms widely and sent a volley of tendrils at the charging angels in a completely unfair amount of grace and power. They were no match for her.

  I stared opened-mouthed. That could have been me.

  Through the wave of angels, I spotted Jenna, weaving through the masses and moving towards Layla, towards the Holy Grail.

  “She’s dead,” cried Tyrius, reading my mind, and my stomach lurched a little.

  A brilliant white light winked from the Legion of angels. A glass sphere the size of a baseball rested in the hand of one of the male angels, one of the only ones who wasn’t moving at the moment. A white light shone from the inside the sphere as he held it in his hand. It reminded me of my elf stone, but I knew this was something else. The surrounding angels moved away from him, giving him a wide berth.

  “What the hell is that?” came Tyrius’s voice next to my ear.

  I shook my head. But before I could answer, the angel pulled back his arm. With inhuman speed, he shot the glowing sphere.

  It hit Layla square in the chest.

  She stumbled and fell. A white haze covered
her, crawling up her arms and legs, growing as it went. Layla scrambled back to her feet looking pissed as she brushed the white lights that danced over her body like they were dirt. The snarl on her face told me she wasn’t afraid. Layla spun, a dance-like step somehow in time with the vast song of the battlefield, and her arms came up, spilling with threads of darkness. Her fingers flicked. Black tendrils coiled around her hands. She hissed and raised her arms—

  Another white sphere hit her. This time next to her heart.

  Layla fell to her knees as the white haze of the sphere engulfed her, creeping up and around her body with a hissing sound. My eyes widened at the sight of her skin breaking out in angry rashes, splitting into red welts and growing larger by the second. Pain flashed across her face, and she blinked, her eyes brown and burning brightly with fear. Blood spilled from her nose, ears, and the corners of her mouth before she went down.

  The angels swarmed, hitting her again and again with their glowing white spheres of death. Her haze of darkness, her gift, gave her no protection against the angels’ spheres, and they sheared through her power like paper.

  “They’re trying to kill her,” I shouted. Even though Tyrius was on my shoulder, I still had to shout over the sounds of battle to be heard. This was never about helping me or Layla. This was an execution.

  And Layla was dying.

  My heart thrashed in my chest. My legs shook in rage and fear.

  I saw a flash of white and spotted another glowing sphere in the hands of another male angel.

  I looked around and found Gareth staring at me with wide eyes. He stumbled towards us, his cheek oozing blood. He was going to need stitches. I saw his mouth form the word “no.”

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let them kill her like that. There was still an innocent young woman in there. And what right did they have to kill her?

  I had seconds before the angel threw his killing sphere.

  Moving on instinct, I spun, pulling Tyrius off of my shoulders and setting him on the floor. And then I was running, my eyes on the white sphere.

  The angel raised his hand.

  And I plowed into him like a linebacker.

  The sphere fell from the angel, a grunt of surprise mixed with pain uttered from his mouth. With a crash, the sphere exploded on the concrete floor in a million brilliant shards.

  The same angel glared at me. I saw the split-second decision he made behind his eyes before he yanked out a soul blade and came for me.

  Shit. I hadn’t thought this through at all.

  He came at me with inhuman speed. The speed of angels was similar to the super speed of vampires.

  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.