I run to the bed and grab the scissors Grace left laying on the blanket with the other first aid things. They aren’t the best weapon but they will have to do. Holding them out in front of me, I wait, my whole body tense.
The door doesn’t open and after what seems like hours, my muscles begin to quiver and shake as adrenalin floods my system. I ease one step forward and then stop and listen again. Nothing. Finally, I can’t wait any longer. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the knob and turn it slowly before pulling the door open. Leaning close to the opening, I glance out into the hall. Nothing. No Grace and no one else.
Stepping out, I slide along the wall, the scissors held in close to my body as my eyes scan the stairs. My heart pounds as I ease my foot onto the first step. I move slowly down, pausing on each step. Just as my foot touches the top step on the second set of stairs, movement at the base of the stairs on the first floor catches my eye.
There he sits, his tail flicking as his eyes lock on me, Captain Jack or whoever he is.
“Where is Grace? What did you do to her?” I freeze when he stands, the scissors shake in my hand.
He just turns and walks away, disappearing down the hall toward the kitchen. Clenching my teeth, I feel my lips pucker and I start to follow him, taking two steps at a time. How dare he ignore me? I let my gaze drift around as I go, checking to see if I see Grace anywhere, but the house seems empty except for me and the cat.
Just as I start down the long hall to the kitchen, the back door swings open and the huge ball of fur disappears outside.
“Hey. Stop. You come back here and answer me,” I scream as I rush after him.
I’m blinded as I hit the crushed granite walkway and a cloud moves out from in front of the sun. Bringing my hand up, I use it to shade my eyes as I look for Jack. There he is sitting beneath my tree. Narrowing my eyes on him, I come to a stand still, unwilling to move in case it’s a trap.
“Where is Grace? Answer me. I know you can,” I say.
“Lillian?” A deep, smoky voice washes over me, one that I recognize.
There he is -- Torryn, just beyond the barrier, watching me with his Nordic blue eyes. Heat flashes through me. Is it from him or from me? I don’t know. Demon. The word plays over and over in my mind. I look at the midnight colored cat; he had led me here to the demon.
“Did you kill her?” I whisper scared of the answer. She is as close to a mother as I’ve had. She is all that stands between me and the others.
“Who?” Torryn asks, looking at Captain Jack. He shakes his head in frustration after a moment. “No, Lillian, Grace is fine. She has gone to find the others to watch them.”
I stare at them, my eyes bouncing between them. Grace knows him. Is she working with him or for him? Has she the whole time? I feel my feet moving toward them as my emotions whirl. I don’t stop until I’m hidden beneath the low branches and the Spanish moss.
“She knows him, doesn’t she?” I ask Torryn, and he nods. “Do you know her?”
“I don’t even know him.” He jerks his head at Captain Jack, who’s ignoring us both currently.
I study his face. He’s handsome, not in a heartthrob sort of way, not like a movie star, but in a rough way. Tattoos cover most of the skin that I can see, all kinds of images in vibrant technicolor. I can’t help but wonder if they cover all of him. Raising my eyes to his face, I see he’s watching me just as closely and I feel my cheeks heat.
“He said I could trust you but why would I? Grace told me you’re a demon.” I watch for a reaction, but he just nods once.
“I am…” He locks his deep blue eyes on me before continuing, “But I wasn’t always.”
My brows draw down as I ponder his words. Not always.
“Are demons something before?” I ask.
“Not all. But some of us began as something else.”
“Like what?” I’m intrigued.
“Eight of us began as angels,” he says, like he’s telling me the weather instead of lobbing a grenade. Angels.
“You were an angel.” I repeat myself, “An angel.”
I look at him again, past the tattoos and his demeanor, and see what he once was. I can’t, of course. I don’t have the best opinion of angels. My opinion must have either shown on my face or sounded in my voice.
“I’m no angel now, Lillian.” His voice has dropped low and it does something to me. I feel it deep in my belly.
Why do I like the idea of that so much? I don’t understand my reaction to him. I don’t understand any of this. I look over at Jack, but his eyes are on me.
‘Ask him to tell you what happened.’ Now he has something to say.
I glance back at the demon in question. Do I trust him? Do I trust the beast sitting at my feet? Drawing a breath, I decide to take a chance.
“Why do I smell blood?” Torryn growls, and I look at him. His body is tense and red flickers in his blue eyes.
It is frightening and thrilling at the same time. My hand drifts up to the cut on my head, and his eyes follow it. I don’t want to answer, don’t want to say I fainted like an idiot when Grace told me he was a demon. I could lie but that would be wrong.
“Lillian.” It’s an order, a demand. But I want to do what he wants.
“I fell in the laundry room and hit my head. Grace helped me as much as she could.” I leave out the details as I tip my head forward letting him see the cut. “Just a stupid accident.”
I raise my head and look him in the eyes, where I see relief and something else I don’t recognize.
“You’re okay, though?” The smokiness of his voice is thicker, and suddenly my throat is like the Sahara, so I just nod. “Good.”
That word, it holds a multitude of meanings, it seems, and I wonder at them. Or maybe I’m confused. I have no experience with men, other than on the television.
“How did you go from angel to demon?” I ask, choosing to ignore my confusion and reactions to him.
“I was murdered.”
16
Torryn
The angel was murdered. I was created in the blackness of nothing and hardened in the flames of Hell.
I refocus and notice Caliel has manifested a blanket for her to sit upon. She hasn’t noticed it, she’s entirely too busy looking me over.
“It’s a long story. Maybe you should sit.” I wave my hand at the blanket, and her eyes widen slightly before she looks at the angel. I lower myself between two huge roots and lean back against the massive trunk of the tree.
She only sits after I recline. She is mistaken if she thinks I’m any less dangerous in this position; I could kill a man and never move, but she never has to worry. Her, I will protect until I am once again gone from this world.
A delicate throat clearing brings me back to the moment at hand, and I see she is watching me, an expectant look on her face. I look down at the tattoos on the backs of my hands, a heart with a sword through it and flames that wrap up around my wrist. I wonder if the sword through the heart was a hint at my memories. I draw a deep breath. I had planned to gloss over it, but she deserves the truth.
“I just remembered most of this. Lucifer thought it best to keep our past hidden until absolutely necessary.”
Her gasp draws my gaze away from my hands. Her eyes are way too wide, and I look at Caliel, who is curled up on the blanket soaking up a tiny ray of sun. His head raises and he watches until she blinks several times.
“Lucifer, as in ruler of Hell.” I nod and she swallows hard.
“Do you still want to hear?” My voice is gruffer than I mean it to be.
“Of course. I live with angels that murder people every night. I doubt even Lucifer himself can be much worse.”
I don’t correct her. The world isn’t ready for a Satan that is actually trying to save humanity.
“Well, anyway…” I start my story.
“I was a guardian angel. Made to protect my charge, only I hadn’t been given one yet. I used to watch the Archangels, who were li
ke rock or movie stars. That day, when it all happened, I had heard the announcement of their arrival. I raced to talk to Selaphiel, to ask about what it was all like on Earth. In my excitement, I wasn’t paying attention.” Self disgust fills my voice, and I see her reach a hand out before she remembers the barrier and drops it.
“Trinity was there. She had just killed him when I slid to a stop in the courtyard. I was frozen in shock as she whirled and thrusted the sword in one motion.” I rub over my chest.
Locking my eyes on her face, I continue, “I remember being shocked as I looked down and saw it sticking out of my chest. I can’t remember pain. Maybe I was already dead. She pushed me back and as I fell, she stepped over me. The last thing I saw was her grinning face.” I watch as a tear tumbles over the rim of her eye and slides down her cheek. It tracks along the scar she showed me before. As she lets her eyes fall closed, I see the scar bisects her lid and wonder how she still has her eye and sight.
My breath stills when those eyes open slowly and lock onto mine. They glisten like emeralds and are filled with some emotion I don’t understand.
“That’s horrible. She’s horrible. She still smiles as she kills things.” Her voice is apologetic, like she could’ve done something to change things.
I’m stuck on the ‘she still smiles’ part. “Trinity is here?” The words come out as a harsh whisper, and she nods slowly, fear creeping into her eyes. “Sorry, I’ve just dreamt of killing her every second since my memories were given back to me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t. I just would hate for you to be killed again.” Her lack of faith in me makes me stiffen. “Shoot. I’ve offended you, haven’t I? I’m not good at this.”
She moves to her knees about to stand when I reach out my fingers, millimeters from the barrier.
“No.” Panic fills her eyes.
I stop my forward movement a hair’s breadth from the invisible magic. I’m close enough to feel the tingle of it across my skin. She relaxes instantly.
We sit in silence for a long time. I’m a hunter; sitting and stalking prey is what I do, but this is killing me. I realize I care about what she thinks of me. Picking up a piece of the moss that has fallen to the ground, I run my fingers over it. Witches beard, some people call it, although I don’t know why.
“It’s my favorite thing about this place.” I look up at her quiet words, and she nods at it in my hand. “The moss and the huge oaks. The day we arrived and I saw them, I don’t know, something settled in my soul.”
I understand the confusion I hear in her voice. It’s the same thing that happened when I saw her. I’m not sure I still have a soul, but if I do, she settles it.
Staring at her, I think she must be meant for me; seeing her with another would be a true hell.
17
Lillian
I feel, suddenly, that being the focus of this man’s attention will be a very dangerous place to be.
“So how did you get here? How did you go from angel to demon?” I murmur, trying to focus on something other than the feelings he’s stirring up. I focus instead on my broken nails.
“Luc brought me back. I’m one of the first eight. Evander, my boss, was first. We were chosen to fight the Fallen. I’ve, we’ve been searching for them ever since. Of course, you know they’ve been using Avalon to hide, so we have always been one step behind.”
He looks at the house with something that looks like hate. I understand that also; it has been my prison for my entire life. A gilded cage but a cage nonetheless.
“Are all demons like you?”
“Like me? I suppose not.” He smiles, and it is a wicked thing.
“I meant good.” I glance at Captain Jack, checking for any reaction from him, although I don’t know if he’s a demon or angel. But Grace knows him so surely that must mean something.
His laugh is deep and warm like the summer sun and it draws a bigger smile from me. Since the scar, I don’t like to smile big; the pressure causes it to flush white, highlighting it.
“Make no mistake, Lillian, I’m not good. I kill people, things, and I don’t have any problem sleeping.” He pushes to his feet, and I look up at him. He looks angry.
“I...just, I meant you aren’t evil. Not like we believe demons to be.” I shrug. “I know evil. I live with evil.”
Standing, I look at the house and then back at him. I should go but I want to stay. I wish... I refuse to complete the thought and turn away, knowing there is no future in wishing.
“Lillian.” His voice is low, honeyed whiskey. “I could take you away from here. Save you. Keep you safe.”
I look back at him. Oh how I wish that were true. My heart is breaking as I race to the back door. His voice echoes across the garden as he calls my name.
The last thing I hear as I close the door is, “Let me help you. Trust me.”
Trust him. I don’t think I trust anyone, not even Grace. The door opens and voices spill into the silent house, laughter that signifies someone has died. They grow bolder, killing in the day. Grace was right; the others that have come are dangerous. They are driving Seraphina to more bloodlust.
I hurry to the stairs, hoping to escape to my room unnoticed. Climbing quickly and thankful for my lack of shoes, I run silently across the landing to the second set. My fingertips reach out, touching the cold glass of the door knob, when my name is whispered across my neck.
“Lillian. Why are you running away?” I freeze and close my eyes to the terror that races up my spine. Images of Torryn bleeding on the ground pop into my mind. “Answer me, mouse.” Her tone hardens before she reaches around me, her hand closing over my own and turning the knob.
A vicious shove propels me into my room. As I’m fighting to remain on my feet, I hear the quiet snick of the door closing.
“Well, mouse,” she taunts. What I say will make no difference. “Cat got your tongue, mouse? Never mind. Want me to tell you what we did this afternoon?” I shake my head. “Good. The others went after the usual. But I saw something so much better, something unusual. A good man. His heart was pure, his soul beautiful and shining.”
I flinch at the joy I can hear in her voice. She twists her wrist back and forth, a habit she’s had for as long as I’ve known her. The bracelets that are always present jingle as the charms on them knock against each other.
Over the years, she has added bracelets. My eyes are drawn to them, and she smiles when she sees me looking. Her other hand reaches over and plays over them, her finger dragging over charms slowly. Remembering.
Tiny, delicate beautiful works of art of silver and gold. She adds one for each unusual life she took, each pure soul she destroys. There are hundreds.
“Yes. Time for another charm.” She grins and steps forward. “Someday soon, I’m going to add a special one for you.”
I fight my body’s need to flee; she loves to chase. Her sword appears in her hand before it shrinks, transforming into a razor-edged stiletto. I found out a long time ago their blades can become anything they wish. She prefers the smaller knives. She like to feel the warmth of her victims’ blood on her hands.
My fingers involuntarily reach up and skim over the scar on my face.
“Yes. I think it’s time to make your other cheek match.” She leans closer, her voice dropping low. “And this time, Grace can’t save your eye.”
My eyes widen. “Grace.” Tears threaten to fall.
“She’s not dead, of course, but Ever wasn’t kind tonight.” One of those that just arrived.
I’m not paying attention, worried for Grace, when the pain from the first cut hits me. A long slice down my forearm. Grabbing it, I try to move away. Another cut then another follows as she backs me into a corner. I turn my head, my eyes zeroing in on the tree, and I can just make out his dark form beneath the branches.
I should have trusted him. She’s going to kill me today.
18
Grace
I survived thousands of years with the
m, only to be killed at the very end.
Seraphina and Ever smile down at me. They were so very kind to bring me to my bed. After Ever almost gutted me, of course. Seraphina waves her away, and Ever waggles her fingers at me as she walks out the door. Grimacing, I look back at the one who started everything.
“I’m not going to let you die tonight, Grace.” Apprehension tightens my screaming muscles. “You are my insurance against Caliel.”
I clench my jaw as she whispers his name.
“Oh, yes. I’ve always known who your brother was. Twins created by God, second to only Lucifer. True opposites, darkness and light. Everyone was fooled, even I, until I saw you in the Garden one day, heard you speaking.”
My powers flare to life as she releases the magical binding she has on me slightly. The wounds begin to heal. She locks me down once more as soon as my power has saved me. Pain still radiates through my body.
“It won’t be long now before he shows himself. The Prophet will see his prophecy destroyed. I will save you and your pet for last.” She sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the window for a long time.
I grow more and more worried as the second tick by.
“Do you know why I keep her? Other than the obvious.” She looks down at me, and I shake my head. It’s one of the things I have always wondered; what made Lillian so special?
“She is Michael’s descendent. A physical representation of his betrayal. Of God’s betrayal to me.” Her voice grows hard, and my hair stands on end as her powers slip her tight control. Light bulbs pop as the electricity in the air surges.
She draws a deep breath, running her hands over her skirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles. Standing, she walks to the door, pausing with her hand on the knob. She doesn’t look back as she speaks.
Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 78