Dark Soul (An Ascended Angels Chronicle )

by Kim Petersen

  He spoke up over the commotion as agreements were made and arrangements were secured between Arella, Ace, Jacques and Lenny.

  ‘The coven is deep in the Gold Coast hinterland. It’ll take about 13 hours to drive there – or 11 in my car if we’re lucky. We should leave now, break midway for the evening and we’ll arrive mid-morning tomorrow.’

  Arella rose to her feet, pushed back her hair and looked down at him.

  ‘So why are you still sitting there?’ She whirled around and strutted for the door.

  She is some kind of angel alright, he thought, watching her hips sway and her dark hair brush against her waist as she walked. He’d heard of all kinds of angels – Ascended Angels, Fallen Angels, Cherubs and Seraphim. He stretched to his feet and followed her, trying to ignore the arousal she ignited in him. She was some kind of angel but he just wasn’t sure which kind of angel she really was.

  Jarryd James filled the space in the car between them. Arella didn’t mind. For one, the sound of Jarryd James had always soothed her soul, and two, well, if she avoided talking to Regan then she could avoid looking at him. Perhaps then she could avoid the torrent of feelings thriving under her skin.

  This is crazy! she thought, watching the sprawling western landscape pass by the window. She couldn’t understand how he managed to evoke these feelings. All she knew was when he looked at her, she became lost in that dark current swirling in his eyes. And nothing else existed except the two of them.

  Anam Cara.

  What did that even mean? The words drifted through her mind like Groundhog Day, and she knew she needed to focus on the Serenity Seed and Zane Crais, not her overzealous hormones.

  Regan slowed the car as they neared the outskirts of a small country town. Immediately, his cell phone buzzed with a torrent of notifications. Arella watched from her peripheral vision as he grabbed the phone and peered at the screen, grunting as he tossed it back into the console between them.

  She raised her brows.

  ‘Obligations? Let me guess … Eddie needs to get the go-ahead to kill someone, or better still, Vincent has ordered you to kill me at once,’ she said sarcastically.

  Regan’s face darkened with a scowl and he shot her a dirty look.

  ‘Fuck Eddie and Vincent. I’m done with their bullshit.’

  ‘Uh-oh. Do I hear a little dissatisfaction-dysfunction in the family? It might be about time, don’t you think?’

  The bottom of his jaw edged as he glanced at her. ‘You’re really something, you know that? What kind of an angel are you anyway? I thought angels were nice.’

  Her eyes widened in protest.

  ‘I never said I was an angel!’

  ‘No, but you are, right? An Ascended one no less! Legend has it they are the purest of angels … but you? Jesus! You live to taunt people, not heal people, I’m sure of it,’ Regan shook his head.

  Arella felt the sting of his words deep in her chest.

  ‘Not people. Just you!’ she snapped, clenching her teeth. ‘And I’m a descendant of the Ascended Angels, not an actual Ascended Angel. If that makes me less than perfect so be it! At least I don’t murder people for a living!’

  Regan’s knuckles paled as he gripped the steering wheel and fell silent. Arella shrunk back in her seat and curled her legs into her chest. She looked back out the window and sighed. Live to taunt people! she fumed inwardly, trying to calm the uproar of frustration soaring beneath her skin. Argh! Damn it! He was just so, so infuriating. It was enough to drive her insane.

  A few minutes later and Arella had managed to somewhat quell her fury. She spotted an old diner on the side of the highway ahead. Her empty stomach lurched, and she sat upright to get a better look. It was a small joint with dirty windows and a faded red roof. One rusty pick-up filled a space in the otherwise deserted gravel car lot, yet a huge sign out front told her it was open for business.

  As if reading her mind, Regan said, ‘We’ll stop in Tamworth for the night. It’s about another hour away. I think you’d be sorry if you ate something in there.’

  She sighed and sank back into the seat without answering. Another hour meant an hour she could close her eyes and shut him out. She pulled off her sweater, rolled it up as a makeshift pillow and leaned her head against the passenger door. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes sweeping over her body.

  Arella awoke at the sound of Regan’s voice. They had arrived at Tamworth. She hadn’t really slept. It was just a light enough doze to help her center herself and gather her thoughts. All they needed to do was sneak into The Triquetra Sphere and find the scroll with information about the Serenity Seed. Hopefully the right scroll would draw Regan and the script would reveal itself to the son of Apepsis. They’ll know where to find the seed, then they will leave the coven. They’ll get to the seed before Zane, and the world would be safe from the incarnation of the serpent god and Zane Crais using the seed’s powers to reign over the earth.

  Easy peasy.

  She frowned and pushed aside the unease fizzling in her stomach like a carbonated soda. She stretched as she took in the inland city famous for its annual country music festival. The dusk light cast long shadows over the town. The distant mountain ranges loomed in a dark backdrop while the streetlights began to brighten against the twilight. Her attention was captured as they passed a big golden guitar rising high toward the sky. She was fascinated by the men and women buzzing around town wearing cowboy hats, boots and flannelette shirts. She had never visited here before, at least not in the daylight.

  Regan eventually stopped in front of an elegant looking hotel. This time, Arella didn’t bother remarking on their difficulty to secure a last-minute room for the night. She knew he’d have no problem on that score. They checked in and agreed to meet at the downstairs bar for dinner once they had washed up. They rode the elevator and walked the plush carpeted hall in silence. She paused before her door number and watched him continue a few steps to stop in front of the door to the next room.

  They glanced at each other. Regan grinned; a wide smile that reached his eyes and lit up his face. She smiled back, instantly averting her attention to the door to conceal the blush creeping over her cheeks. She heard a deep rumble as he cleared his throat and fiddled with his key card. They swiped their key cards in the door lock in unison and pushed the doors ajar. Both took another glimpse in the other’s direction, and she gave a little finger wave before disappearing into her room and quickly shutting the door.

  Arella leaned against the back of the door and breathed while scanning the room. In the few days she had known him, she had fast discovered Regan Knowles didn’t do anything by halves. The room was more like a suite with two spacious rooms connecting with white fold-out timber doors. The first room was adorned with handmade horse sculptures on glass tables, antique guitars on stands in corners and delicate pieces of furniture facing a flat screen TV and surround sound stereo system. Modern framed artworks decorated the walls. Most were portraits of the local countryside and performing cowboys in an arena. The canvases provided a vast contrast to the exquisite couches and chairs scattered around the room.

  She let out a low whistle as she ventured into the bedroom and spotted the cushiony king-sized bed, walk-in wardrobe and marble bathroom. She tossed her bag aside and threw herself over the bed, a smile fixed on her face. Ahhh … bed – the place of dreams! Her brows knitted into the white cotton bedspread. And nightmares.

  Hopefully she’d sleep well tonight.

  A discreet knock at the door interrupted her king-bed delight. He’s washed up already? She opened the door to see a young woman on the other side who greeted her with a friendly smile. She was hotel staff, and she was accompanied by a metal trolley.

  ‘I have complimentary champagne and fruit and cheese, ma’am.’ The woman smiled and pushed the trolley into the room.

  Arella eyed the platter of fruit and cheese.

  ‘Oh, yes please!’

  The woman set the
fruit and cheese down on the glass dining table and set about retrieving the champagne. After she had poured a glass of bubbly, she turned to the trolley and pulled out a large black felt box.

  ‘This is compliments of Mr Knowles,’ the woman announced. She set the box down on the table, throwing Arella a sideways glance as she did so. She straightened up and faced Arella, sweeping her eyes over her from head to toe.

  Arella looked at her expectantly, squirming a little.

  The woman nodded, her brown ponytail bobbing behind her back.

  ‘Yep, I think I did okay,’ she said, then pivoted to make for the door.

  ‘Huh? What do you mean?’ Arella tailed her.

  The woman smiled. ‘With the sizes. I only got a glimpse of you in the foyer. You know, he’s much better looking in person … I’d give anything to be you right now,’ she said dreamily.

  Arella frowned. ‘Trust me,’ she said, digging in her pocket for a tip. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  She closed the door and went straight for the box. Inside she found a silver toiletry bag filled with an array of soaps, brushes and combs, powders, make-up and a bottle of Chanel No.5. Beneath the toiletry bag were layers of neatly folded clothes wrapped in patterned white tissue paper; a lacy black teddy to sleep in, a pair of skinny jeans, a beaded black cashmere sweater, underwear and socks. Arella gasped. Her eyes widened when she pulled out a three-quarter sleeve backless white lace mini dress. At the bottom of the box was a lone piece of paper with only two handwritten words:

  Anam Cara.

  The words danced before her as she picked up the paper. The thin paper felt delicate between her fingers, yet all that consumed her awareness was the whispering in her soul as her eyes filled only with their gold penned strokes marked upon it.

  Anam Chara.

  Twin flames flared inside of her, their crackling tips scattered with a dozen tiny orbs that glowed and ebbed through her veins, warming her heart and flushing through her limbs all the way to the ends of her fingers and toes. Contentment settled over her and a calmness permeated. Peace claimed her in that moment. The whispers drifted to the edges of her soul and reverberated one other word before fading from her mind.

  Serenity.

  ‘Serenity Seed,’ she said aloud.

  She dropped the paper and reached for the champagne flute. She drained the glass easily and immediately refilled it with the golden bubbly liquid, adding a strawberry in for good measure. When that glass had run dry, she sucked on the champagne-soaked strawberry and refilled again, yearning to numb her mind a little.

  Anam Cara.

  Arella didn’t know the meaning of those unfamiliar words, yet she knew they came to her with a ring of depth. It was a meaning so significant, she was yet to grasp their sacred intensity. They filled her mind and swirled with the bubbles of champagne dulling her head. Perhaps Regan had more answers than he was letting on.

  Argh! She was sick and tired of thinking, fed up with the ever-turning gears tormenting her mind. The past few days had been a nightmare. Now, she thought she could take no more. For tonight, she vowed to just feel like a normal person in a normal life. She would think no more of magical serenity seeds, serpent-hybrid creatures and serpent gods and angels, nor would she entertain the feelings Regan Knowles evoked within her.

  Just for tonight.

  Arella pressed her lips to the glass again and sipped. A smile played over her mouth as the effects of the alcohol grew and released the tension in her mind and body. That’s better. Thank the gods for the small mercy of alcohol, she thought with an amusing nod.

  She rose to her feet, gathered the dress and toiletry bag in her arms and made for the bathroom. Time for a bath and play dress-ups.

  After all, isn’t that what normal people did?

  Zane stopped the car at the top of the peak. He and Keira had been traveling all day, only stopping for fuel and food breaks along the way. His fingers ached from gripping the steering wheel so tight, and his right foot was killing him. It was all he could do to stop the incessant tremble of his hands and the break-out sweat that almost constantly streamed from his pores.

  Zane had never taken well to long drives. There was too much energy running through his body to want to keep still for prolonged periods. Long drives and long flights were enough to send him tripping; and it wasn’t like the fun-tripping variety he’d occasionally experience on one of his bender nights out on the town. This was downright, mind-itching freak-out kind of tripping.

  Thankfully, Zane had an excellent reason to soothe his anxiety enough to sit behind a wheel for so long. After all, he could think of no better reason than to travel toward the victory that would be his. He was so close to getting his hands on the seed, he could almost taste it. It was power he craved, and it was the thought of power that kept his children’s faces hidden away from the cracks in his mind.

  Zane rolled his ankles and cracked his knuckles while he groaned loudly. He peered into the rearview mirror at the cars behind him. He was unsure of the reception they’d receive when they called on Selina Knowles and her coven of witches, so he’d brought along insurance should she choose not to be a gracious hostess.

  A wave of excitement flooded his mind as he looked back to the valley below. Night had claimed the horizon like a heavy blanket, broken only by a half moon and an endless smattering of stars. The coven village appeared subdued and sleepy as the few clusters of cottages that scattered along windy trails and vast farmland stood silent in the dark.

  Easy pickings, Zane smirked to himself. He was about to trump the Dark Star in his own backyard, his home and birthplace no less; and the idiot was clueless. He spotted the largest cottage and figured that would be the perfect place to start his search for Selina and her potent potion. But first he and his new companions would need a little kick of Shabu to get them on their way.

  He looked at Keira sitting beside him. She fiddled constantly, tying her fingers together in a knot then untying them again over and over. The woman had just about driven him to the scope of his patience more than once during the car ride. Finally, after hours of driving, she had fallen asleep, and he’d had an overwhelming desire to stop the car and perform a happy dance. That would’ve exhausted some of his pent-up energy. It might’ve even helped with the acute withdrawal symptoms wracking his body too. Yet, he dared not risk waking her. Instead he gripped the steering wheel even tighter and drove on.

  However, now though, it was with a mixed sense of relief and elation pinching his fancy as he gazed at her through a softer heart. A smile broke over his face. He sensed her need.

  ‘Ready to meet some witches?’ he said, leaning to brush back the hair from her face.

  She looked tired and gaunt. Her eyes appeared red-rimmed and dull, yet her hair smelled like a fresh mango milkshake.

  Images of her slinking nude and bloodied the night before flashed through his head and he instantly became aroused. She hadn’t looked tired then. She had looked like a sexy she-devil with her white fangs dripping red and her flesh-filled claws tearing into her victim. He could sure use a repeat of that scene. Never had he been pushed so far to the edge of desirable hunger. His lust for blood and sex was fast becoming insatiable, and the combination proved to be unimaginably exquisite. When he acquired the Serenity Seed, he planned on experiencing a whole lot more; a whole world of potential hybrid women awaited him. Yet, he would only ever keep one queen by his side.

  He grinned at her and held up the leather-bound needle kit, swinging it between his fingers. Her eyes lit up and her pale lips curved into a smile.

  ‘I’m ready,’ Keira murmured, stretching out the inside of her hole-tracked arms.

  They eagerly took the electric blue shot of liquid into their veins, both falling against their seats as the drug took hold and the transformation began. Zane had learned to dread this part as much as savor it, as the pain was as excruciating as the high was gratifying.

  Agony combined with a striking rush tunneled through him as
his teeth burst and bladed from his gums, and his tongue lengthened in a divided fissure. He groaned aloud while his skin crawled thick and scaly, and bulged against his clothes. But it was the inside of his head that hurt the most, as if the act of morphing sliced through the deepest part of his brain and totally altered his cerebrum while he was in hybrid formation. That was why he was so keen to possess the black magic potion that would keep him forever stronger, forever faster, and forever a serpent-hybrid. He would be unstoppable. He would destroy the Dark Star, and he would finally become the man his father had never wanted him to be – the most powerful man to ever walk the earth.

  Keira gave a high-pitched shriek as her transformation became complete. Zane rolled his head to peer at her. She looked like a new woman. Her skin glowed pink and fleshy, the color of her eyes shiny and vivid, while her lips plumped crimson over the hint of her fangs when she smiled at him.

  It was strange that her skin didn’t morph to the scaly hide as his did. Zane could never figure that puzzle out no matter how many different strains he had given her. In the end, he decided the narcotic affected its hosts in unique ways, much like any drug. After all, one could never know their reaction to a drug until they consumed it.

  He didn’t mind. Perhaps there was an innate mating explanation for the difference. Perhaps female serpent-hybrids appeared this way to attract a mate. If Kiera’s skin thickened to a hide, perhaps he would not find her attractive enough to keep her as his queen. And she is my queen, he thought, as his black gaze lingered over her.

  Zane stretched his mouth wide in a snarly grin before he grimaced. His fangs jutted behind his lips while an insane yearning to taste blood rippled through his body.

  He shuddered.

  ‘Let’s go give the others a hit of Shabu, then we’ll go see us some witches.’

  After coaching his crew through their first Shabu experience, Zane couldn’t help but delight in their morphed conditions. He had brought along seven of his most trusted and ruthless men who had worked discreetly under his orders without questioning his extracurricular activities outside his father’s business interests. He had handpicked each of them to work under his watch years before, luring them away from his father with promises of riches and women. He had delivered his promises tenfold, and in turn they had grown fiercely loyal to him.