Mark spoke as if to himself. “We'll save her from the angels.”
Chapter Sixteen
M ark felt the Sight moving through him, whispering to him. The ancient magic came to him, more powerful than anything he’d felt before. It showed him a woman preyed upon by the angels. She couldn't see them, yet they tortured her all the same.
He recognized her as the Goddess of Love, one of The Immortal Ten and the first god they intended to help.
They had learned that Caine had devised a special cruelty for The Immortal Ten. Each time they were reborn, he erased their memories and sent his most faithful angels to make their existence pure misery.
And to guard them. Just in case.
As the four of them came closer to the house, the shadows shivered and deepened. Chimes hung from the broken-down porch, their tune sad as the slight breeze pulled music from them. Large trees crowded the front yard, their branches hanging and twisted in an eerie way that reminded him of a graveyard. What a wretched place.
As they continued down the sidewalk, he realized that the house had once been a light blue. The peeling paint whispered of a time of happiness, of hope.
Caine destroys beauty and goodness everywhere he goes.
Without thinking, Mark's gaze swept to Surcy and something twisted in his chest. Caine hadn’t destroyed her. He might think he had, but he was wrong. They would help her. Even if she never remembered who she was, they would do it to remember what true goodness could be.
“Angels,” Daniel hissed the warning.
They paused on the sidewalk. Sure enough, two angels fluttered lightly onto the fence on either side of the house. Perching like sinister gargoyles.
Guards.
“What do we do?” Mark shifted, tucking the ancient and one-of-a-kind necklace beneath his white shirt.
“Keep walking, but don’t look at them. They’re invisible. If we act like we see them, they’ll know we aren’t human.” Daniel started forward, and they followed.
That’s the thing about demons, we can never tell them from humans unless they slip up and use their magic.
She stiffened. How do I know that?
Surcy squeezed between him and Tristan. “Why are angels guarding a house? Is the person inside in danger?”
Daniel laughed behind her, his deep voice cheerless. Angry. “They’re keeping her prisoner.”
Her shoulders tensed. “I don’t believe that.”
And you won’t, not unless you see it with your own eyes.
“What’s the plan?” Tristan asked. “We can’t help her if we can’t get close. And there’s probably more of them inside.”
Everything was quiet for a moment, and then Daniel spoke up. “I’ve got a plan. Follow me.”
Uh oh. This doesn’t sound good.
Mark hurried after his brother, his anxiety rising. Daniel liked to act without thinking, but if they tipped Caine and his minions off to their plan, they might not be able to save the other immortals. They needed to do this smartly, and he wasn’t sure Daniel should be the one leading them.
But you don’t have a better idea.
He swallowed the bitterness rising in the back of his throat. The stone path leading up to the house was overrun with weeds. As they drew closer, misery and despair tightened around them.
What would the locals do if they realized this woman, this house, and these angels were the reason their entire city had gone to hell? The angles were a curse staining their lands.
He felt a rush of air and heard the flutter of wings. His hands twitched. He had five weapons hidden on his person, but he wanted more than anything to call his soul-blade to him. The deadly weapon was like a part of his body, and he welded it with certainty. Unfortunately, if he used it, every angel in the area would come straight to them. Instead, he clutched his hands into fists, and pretended not to notice the angels that now shadowed their step.
If we look at them, all is lost.
As they climbed the porch stairs, the wood creaked beneath them. The worn, warped wood sagged with each step.
When Daniel rapped on the door, Mark jumped, startled. The angels were close enough behind him that he could feel their breath on his neck.
Please let this be a good plan.
A minute passed. Daniel knocked again.
A woman’s voice came from the other side of the door. “What do you want?”
Her voice sounds tired, like she's in pain. Mark felt a calmness settle about him. His life had not always been easy either, and once he even contemplated ending it. His soul recognized this woman’s suffering.
“We’re from the church.” Daniel lied. “We’re here to meet the people of the neighborhood and offer our help.”
“Help?” the woman sounded suspicious. “What kind of help?”
“Well, once we know what you need—food, clothes, money, any--“
Locks clicked and the door slid open a crack. Dark brown eyes peered out at them. “Do I have to listen to your religious crap?”
Daniel chuckled. “No, ma’am. And that’s a promise.”
Her door opened all the way and Mark saw a flash of shock on Daniels' face before he hid it behind a mask of pleasant indifference. Mark's chest ached. The woman looked like a great beauty destroyed by drugs and a rough life. Her dark brown hair was a tangled mass behind her head, as if it had been put up weeks ago and forgotten. From the smell, that was probably when she’d bathed last.
Her face was thin, and yet her cheeks were swollen as if from a medication destroying her body inside and out. Dark lines wove beneath her eyes, and a massive bruise darkened her throat. More bruises littered her arms like a virus.
She eyed the group up and down, judging Daniel's smart suit. Mark could tell that she liked what she saw. “Well, come in and tell me more about this money you’re hoping to give me.”
She let them in and closed the door.
Inside, his gaze slid past two angels who lingered in the doorways. Even though he didn’t meet their eyes, the hatred rolled off of them in waves. Their hatred suffocated the room.
Empaths.
He shivered. It made sense, and yet, it was such a cruel thing. Empaths were rare creatures capable of sensing the emotions of others and changing them. The fact that Caine was using them for such work sickened him.
Yet another reason for us to overthrow the bastard.
The woman retreated to a futon couch against the back wall of the tiny room and threw herself down on it. Drug paraphernalia littered the top of the box in front of the futon.
Her gaze caught his, and she smiled, although her eyes were wild. “I don’t remember any church with such handsome missionaries before.”
He smiled back at her. “We’re pretty new.”
Since there was nowhere else to sit, Daniel pulled a blanket off the couch and spread it on the floor to protect his clothes from the stained carpet.
“Well, I’m glad,” she said. “Most missionaries tend to stay away from my house. I see them go to the others, but not mine.”
“I’m sorry.” Mark was sorry about her being left alone here, but more than that, he was sorry they hadn’t come sooner.
“Name’s Carys,” she said, after a quiet moment. She touched her hair, her hands shaking.
One of the angels detached himself from the wall and knelt down beside her. He whispered in her ear. “Ask them for money. You need more drugs. You’re nothing without drugs. That’s why your mom took your sister and left you here, because you’re nothing. Not even your own family loved you.”
The angel's hate-filled words filled the air, rolling over them in waves so powerful that Mark had to clench every muscle in his body to stop from growling in anger. His mind and emotions battled. He felt deep inside that this woman was unworthy of help, but his mind asserted that it was the empath’s magic influencing him, not the woman herself.
No wonder this woman turned to drugs.
He dared to glance at Surcy, even knowing she was a
distraction. He could see how hard she was trying not to look at the angel, but he could read her shock from several feet away.
Likely she can’t believe an angel would poison a human’s mind like this.
“So,” Carys began. Her eyes lit up and her mouth smacked in an odd caricature of a smile. “About that money.”
“Of course,” Daniel reassured her smoothly. “But first, we’d like to know a bit about you.”
The woman sighed and reached for a half-burnt cigarette off the box in front of her. Lighting it, she stared at the ceiling for a long second. “You want to hear a story that will make you like me or do you want the truth?”
“The truth,” Tristan said, his tone unyielding.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Taking a long draw of her cigarette, she puffed the smoke out in front of her, her gaze distant. “They say my mama was cursed the day I was born. My father died on the way to the hospital and the accident left my sister disabled for life. After that, mama lost her money, her house, her life of privilege."
She flicked the cigarette and ashes floated across the box. "Eventually she lost her mind. She brought man after man home, hoping to find a new daddy for us, but no one ever stayed around long enough. They didn’t mind my sister, but they said there was something wrong with me. They were probably right. People get hurt around me. People die.”
She took another draw of her cigarette, pain darkened the bags beneath her eyes. “One day I got home from school and she and my sister were gone. I've lived here ever since, but I couldn’t finish school. Couldn’t keep a job. In fact, I only did one good thing my whole life. Everything else—everything I touch is poisoned.”
When she stopped talking, Daniel and Mark exchanged a glance with their brother. Was this truly the Goddess of Love?
They heard the sounds of the lock on the front door and a second later, a little girl with a backpack came in. The resemblance to her mother was uncanny, but the little girl was cleaner. Her clothes looked used but far nicer than the rags her mother wore, and there was an unexpected innocence to her face.
Her mother cleared her throat and put out her cigarette. “Mandy, how was your day?”
The little girl dropped her bag on the floor and ran to her mother. When she was in her arms, the strangest thing happened. Mark's necklace heated against his chest, and a light wrapped around the woman and her child. No one else could see it, but goose bumps erupted on his skin.
In the golden light that surrounded them, the mother no longer looked dirty and sick. She looked beautiful: long brunette hair, a heart-shaped face, a healthy glow, and a smile that lit her from the inside out.
This. This was the Goddess of Love.
But just as quickly as the magic revealed her, it faded, leaving behind the sickly woman, a shadow of the goddess.
The angel reached for the child in her mother’s arms. He almost touched her, but then, he hissed and pulled his hand back, as if he’d burned it.
He turned to the other angel. “Her protection is still there. Weak, but still there.” The harsh words were too quiet for the woman to hear, but Mark heard what the angel said, and hatred rushed through the demon even stronger.
The other angel shook her head, tossing her long golden hair behind her back. “Caine wants her dead soon. He’s tired of waiting.”
“We’re breaking her down as quickly as we can!” The male angel shot back.
Mark watched the angels without them knowing, but then his gaze moved to Surcy. Her shoulders trembled, her expression one of disbelief.
The little girl drew back from her mom as if she just realized there were three men and a woman in her house. “Who are they?”
“People from the church come to help us,” the goddess responded, running her fingers through her daughter’s hair.
“Actually,” Surcy said, surprising them all, “We can go to the store now. We could pick up whatever you need.”
The girl’s eyes widened, and she spun to her mom. “Can we? Can we?”
The male angel leaned over Carys, spouting his poison in her ear. “Leaving the house is dangerous. Do you want to be hurt? To die? To abandon your child as your mother abandoned you?”
Fear uncurled within Mark’s stomach, but he pushed the magical feeling away.
The goddess’ smile fell away, broken by the angel's harsh words. “I don’t—I don’t know if I can."
“Please,” her daughter whispered.
The goddess hesitated.
“Please,” her daughter asked again.
After a moment, the mother gave in to her daughter's pleas. “Just a short trip though, okay?”
As the little girl squealed with joy, Mark looked to Surcy and his brothers. If they could get out of sight of the angels, they could teleport the mother and child away. They’d have to explain everything later, but it would save their lives.
Unfortunately, without a bit of luck, they wouldn’t be able to shake them all. If that happened, he hoped Surcy was prepared to watch the demons kill her own kind.
Chapter Seventeen
S urcy tried her best not to look at the angels torturing an innocent woman. Well, she didn’t know if the woman was innocent or had committed some crime by Caine’s standard, but nothing warranted this. Nothing! Angels were not created to hurt humans. It went against everything inside of her.
The more her shock faded, the more her anger built. She ached to call her soul-blade to her, to slaughter her brothers and sisters who preyed upon this woman like cats with a mouse.
Humans were meant to be punished or rewarded in the afterlife for their crimes during life, not while on earth.
We are better than this!
Tristan’s powerful gaze flickered to her for a brief moment, and then away. She realized her fists were clenched and that goose bumps were running up and down her arms.
Releasing her fists, she took a steadying breath. What is wrong with me?
As the woman opened bottle after empty pill bottle on her tiny table, her hands shook more and more with each movement. Surcy tried to focus on the emotions befitting an angel… not emotions, the actions befitting an angel. Her job wasn’t to feel, it was to do.
But only what Caine commands me to.
When she was an angel, her job was to search out demons and destroy them to protect humanity from the dangerous creatures. So what was her responsibility now? What was she supposed to do when the angels appeared to the bad guys, and the demons were the good guys?
When the woman couldn’t find any drugs, she stood, her shoulders hunched over. Her daughter took her hand and helped her into her shoes.
“What are we allowed to get at the store?” the girl said, peeking beneath a messy curtain of brown hair.
“Whatever you want,” Daniel answered, with a smile. As he knelt near the girl,
Surcy couldn’t take her gaze from him. The gentleness in his dark eyes surprised her. "Is there anything you’ve wanted so bad you can taste it?”
The girl hesitated. “Could we get ice cream?”
“All the ice cream you can eat!” Daniel promised.
She laughed and tugged on her mom’s hand. "Let's go, Mom!"
And for the first time, her mother’s hunched shoulders lifted for the briefest moment, as if the weight pressing there had eased. She smiled. “Maybe mint chocolate chip?”
Her daughter squealed. “This is going to be the best day ever!”
Surcy's heart swelled. She touched her chest, a frown tugging at her lips. The feeling warmed her in a way that felt wrong, like she was ice being melted from the inside out.
An angel is meant to be cold. To be unfeeling. It’s how we execute justice without our emotions complicating things.
The words that played in her head. If someone told her them, she couldn’t remember, but she felt they were true deep inside.
Yet, feeling again… felt right.
Mark opened the door, and their small party trickled out. Something tickled the ba
ck of her neck. The slightest cold breeze. She stiffened. It was the angel’s breath. They were following them.
Four angels stood on the lawn, all of them massive men with white wings.
White wings meant that they were Caine’s most trusted servants. And most powerful.
How do I know that?
She kept her eyes on the sidewalk as the angels surrounded them.
The little girl began to babble. She was talking about all the things she wanted to buy. Her smile seemed to fill her whole face.
“You can’t go,” an angel with dark eyes whispered behind the mother. “You need your pills. You need your medicine. You know what will happen if you don’t. Think of the pain. Think of your suffering.”
The mother was slowing, her face even paler than before.
Surcy felt something overwhelm her. She strode forward and took the woman’s other hand.
Carys startled, as if she’d been somewhere else. Somewhere far away.
“Your daughter is lovely.” Surcy tugged her forward, keeping her going.
The woman winced. “She’s the only good thing I’ve ever done.”
Surcy pulled her along, faster. The angels were moving closer, whispering amongst themselves. Did they know she was angel? Did they know her men were demons?
“It wasn’t just one good thing you did,” Surcy reassured her, hoping her words weren’t coming out too rushed. Too panicked. “Many right decisions were made to turn her into the smiling, wonderful girl before us.”
“She’s smiling now,” the angel grated out, anger coming from him in waves. “But you’ll ruin her, too. Just like you ruined everything else.”
The woman’s steps faltered. “I’m feeling tired. Maybe we shouldn't go today.”
“Just a little further,” Surcy tugged on her hand. “Look how excited your daughter is!”
Her voice came out soft and weak. “I'll try. If it's just a little further.”
But what’s the plan? We take them to the store, and then what? Return them here to torture the woman some more? And what are the angels’ plans for the child? They want to get to her too, but why?
Rebel Lover_An Angel Reverse Harem Romance Page 6