Revelation (Blood of Angels Book 1)

by Paula Arwen Owen

  A firm but gentle hand was on her shoulder. “Don’t be scared.”

  “Go away!” she cried, hearing her words echo feebly against the marble.

  “Now why did you have to go and do that?” Layla had turned and was talking to someone else.

  “What?” A man replied in an insolent tone. “I don’t need to hide my true self from my own daughter.”

  “She’s still getting used to this whole idea you fool, you nearly scared her to death. Put some skin on.”

  “Always a pleasure to see you, Lilith,” the man replied, dripping sarcasm.

  This can’t be, Des thought. This can’t possibly be happening. Her father was a dragon, a devil, pages of scripture come to life. She took a deep breath and carefully cracked one eye open to peek around Layla. A man stood in the center of the upturned dirt, a well-dressed, middle-aged man with smoke rising in lazy tendrils from his body. A crisp black suit draped his toned body, contrasting the stark white shirt underneath. Both seemed untouched by soot or fire. He peered back at her with intense eyes of two different colors, his mouth twisted into a wry smile.

  “I see you, my dear.” He held out a hand. “I won’t bite.”

  Des opened her other eye but remained crouched on the floor. The man frowned and gestured to Layla.

  “You’ve been too soft on her,” he accused.

  “She’s mostly human. You know it’s how she was raised.”

  The man’s eyes seethed with fire. “She is not merely human!” he yelled, his deep baritone bouncing from wall to wall.

  The overpowering sound made Des cringe, but she couldn’t take her gaze off of his eyes. They burned with a mesmerizing glow, smoldering with layers of blue and orange and black. Beneath the fire and heat she could detect something else. Something akin to torture, like the agony that gripped the demonic faces carved into the door.

  “You’re not helping.” Layla glanced down at her and back to the man. The flames in his eyes slowly dwindled to embers and he inclined his head in apology.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I can be a bit… emotional. I’ve waited so long to meet you, my little anticristo.”

  Des managed to speak, her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.

  “So you’re really...”

  “Allow me to introduce myself properly.” He gave a slight bow and a flourish of his hand. “My name is Lucifer, Satan, the great serpent, prince of devils, but you can call me father.”

  Des let out a short hysterical laugh, and Layla looked down at her with concern. She wished Adrian was here to witness this, to see that he was right after all. At least about the devil part. But this was no subconscious dream, unless she had completely and totally lost her mind. She let Layla help her to her feet and she leaned against her as they inched slowly forward.

  “And you are…”

  “Some call her demon,” said Lucifer, “some call her mother.” He winked. “And some call her much naughtier things.”

  “Lucifer!”

  Des caught the faintest blush on Layla’s ivory cheeks as she held a hand to her chest in a demure gesture. Her necklace glinted beneath her fingers.

  “Lilith,” Des whispered, the realization dawning on her. “Mother of demons. Your symbol was on the grimoire.” No wonder she had always seemed inhumanly perfect. She wasn’t human at all.

  Layla gave her a grim smile. “Yes, child. I don’t know how your friend came into possession of that book, but it’s a dangerous thing. She doesn’t even know what it can do, and we need to keep it that way.”

  Des shivered, imagining what Rachel would do if she knew all of this was real. Would she continue to be her enemy, or would she pretend to be her friend again in the hopes of discovering some secret to eternal power?

  She studied Lucifer more closely as they continued forward. He was handsome, with evenly tan skin and sculpted cheekbones and short black hair peppered with silvery grey. His eyes had lost most of their orange glow, and she could see that his right eye was clear blue, while his left was a light hazel color, flecked with gold. Just like hers.

  “Are all my dreams real?” she murmured, visions of smoking buildings and bloody claws flashing through her mind. “What about the burning city?”

  “A possible future, of a war that must be fought.”

  Des pondered that. She wanted no part of a war, but had to keep asking the questions since they were finally being answered.

  “And me?”

  She had reached the edge of the circle and Lucifer reached out to her, but stopped short right at the border.

  “Aah,” he threw his hands up in frustration at the invisible barrier, then smiled. “Well, that will all change soon. You, my dear, are my daughter, our salvation, and their deepest fear and desire, the one they call the Antichrist.”

  Des took a step back, her knees threatening to give out beneath her. “Oh my god.”

  Lucifer chuckled. “God is most certainly not listening, my child.” He gestured for her to come closer, but Layla held onto her arm.

  “I’m sure she needs some time to process all this, we can continue another day.”

  “Time is running short, dear Lilith, and I have been waiting for far too long.”

  “Lucifer...”

  Des heard the warning tone in Layla’s voice, but the pull of his presence was stronger. It felt warm and comforting similar to Jack’s wood stove, but also chaotic and powerful like the dancing flames beneath the bridge. She could feel it calling her, could sense it running through her veins. She stepped over the boundary of dirt and stood face to face with the king of Hell.

  “She’s not ready,” she heard Layla say, but it sounded far away like a pigeon cooing from the rooftops.

  “Don’t worry momma bird,” he crooned. “I’ll take care of the little one.”

  Des stood mesmerized as he took her hand in his, then bent forward to place a light kiss on her forehead. An electric jolt raced through her body, and her skin felt engulfed in fire.

  His eyes blazed hot again, and the room quickly disappeared as they fell downward, forever downward, through spiraling flames full of gruesome visions. He held her tightly in a protective cocoon, safe amid the chaos of his kingdom. Our kingdom, he whispered in her head, as her mind sought to take everything in. Chilling screams drifted around her, and the smell of smoke permeated the air. Leathery wings beat nearby and she buried her face into Lucifer’s linen shirt to avoid seeing what sort of demon flew with them. The fall was making her dizzy and she was afraid she might pass out.

  “Please don’t drop me.” Her speech was muffled in his shirt. He chuckled.

  “I never would.”

  “What’s on the bottom?”

  Lucifer took a moment to answer.

  “There is pain,” he said. “There is suffering.” A terrible moan from below punctuated his remarks.

  “There is truth. And there is vengeance.”

  Their fall finally slowed and a scorching wind beat against her skin as her ears were assaulted by shrill haunting cries piercing the air. She slowly opened her eyes to a blood red sky streaked with clouds of black smoke and undulating veins of lightning. The eerie flashes of light illuminated the winged creatures dotting the sky, circling lazily in the warm air currents. The cries were coming from them as they called out to each other across the infinite landscape of dark jagged rocks and pulsing rivers of magma. Thin streaks shot through the clouds like blackened stars falling from high above, disappearing into the plumes of flame that burst out of murky crevices far below.

  Lucifer held her close, still in human form although his flesh seemed to glitter with haphazard scales. He looked out of place now in this rugged landscape, but she could feel the dragon's strength beneath his changeable skin. The pleasant smell of wood smoke overpowered a faint noxious odor of sulfur coming from below.

  “I have so much to show you,” Lucifer whispered to her, his voice full of quiet excitement.

  Des shivered despite the heat and t
ried to remember if she was still awake right now or dreaming. She had so much to ask, but couldn’t come up with a single word.

  A vast mountain loomed in the distance, a river of fire pouring down its onyx face. As they approached, she could see a plateau near its top with a large cave opening behind it. The river flowed out of the cave and cascaded over the cliff edge in a mesmerizing display of red and orange, glowing against the glittering black rock. It was both terrifying and beautiful. They landed beside the river and Des sank to the ground on shaking legs. Lucifer crouched beside her.

  “Sweet Lilith worries about you, my dear, but she is that way about all her children. God has taken them all from her.”

  Des shook her head. Her children?

  “You are mine in flesh, yet hers in spirit. And you are here to lead us to freedom.”

  “I’m not,” Des cleared her throat and lowered her eyes from his fierce gaze. “I’m no leader.”

  Lucifer laughed and swept his arm out towards the circling demons. They dove and spiraled and keened in response. “They are all ready to follow you, my lovely beast of man. You only need time to realize your own strength.”

  He reached a hand out to smooth her hair and touched a finger to her forehead. She suddenly felt so tired, and let him ease her back onto the hard ground.

  “Sleep now, little star, we shall talk again. We will talk of Hell, and of Heaven, and of our revenge.”

  Beast of Man

  Des woke to the sound of her phone vibrating against the sheets. Reaching out to silence it, she ended up picking up the call instead.

  “Hello? Des?”

  She blinked at the late morning light struggling through the curtains of her bedroom. Dust sparkled in the filtered rays, swirling and settling on her coat flung over the chair, her boots leaning against the bookcase. Misery was intently sniffing the edges of her coat.

  “Cyrus?” she mumbled into the phone.

  “Are you all right? You haven’t been answering my messages.”

  “Oh.” She yawned and stretched her legs. “Sorry, been busy.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah.” Fuzzy memories came back to her in pieces as she rolled over and started to sit up. “I had this crazy dream…” She sank back down to her pillow with a low groan as a thrumming pain pounded against her temples.

  “If you were making that noise in your dream, I want to hear all about it.”

  She imagined the teasing grin on his face and shook her head, which made the pounding worse.

  “My head is killing me.” She rubbed her palms against her forehead and felt a raised bump beneath her fingers. “I think I hit it on something.”

  “Really? What did you do last night?”

  She thought back to the darkening sky as she stood at the park entrance waiting for May. Had any of that actually happened? Had she gone home, hit her head and dreamed the whole thing? She looked at her hands and gasped as she saw a smudge of blood, but realized she had only been picking at the scab on her forehead. There was no sign of her struggle with May, no remnants of a trip to Hell. She laughed at herself. Of course it was all a dream. Although why did her room smell of smoke and sulfur?

  “Des, talk to me.” Cyrus’ voice was soft but urgent, pulling her back to the present. “What happened to your head?”

  “Lucifer,” she blurted out, remembering his electric kiss on her forehead. She giggled hysterically at the delirium of her dream. “I dreamed of a dragon, but it was the Devil himself. He called me his little star. Little Anticristo.”

  Cyrus let out a long solemn breath, cutting through her laughter. “You are a shining star,” he said. “You shine with a fire so bright the world will bow down in awe, or risk being consumed in its wake.”

  Des fell quiet, blinking away the tears her laughing fit had caused. Her head throbbed again.

  “Do you believe in your destiny now? The Domitians believe in you.”

  “The coin,” she whispered. “You said that emperor Domitian was the Antichrist.”

  “Some believed he was, but they were wrong. We have waited for centuries for the rise of the true Antichrist. For you.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Am I? Why do your dreams feel so real? Why does your head feel like it’s been branded with fire and saturated with smoke?”

  She pressed her hands to her temples. That was exactly how it felt.

  “Let me help you Des.”

  She closed her eyes and thought of his emerald gaze on hers, his arm around her shoulders, his assurance that everything would be okay. He was wrong. The world was going to end, and she was going to be the cause of it.

  “The others want to use you, to control you. The other Domitians, Lilith, even Lucifer. I want to help you find your own path, your own destiny.”

  Des rolled off the bed as she listened to him and looked down at Misery, crouched by her coat. The edges of the fabric were singed and the smell of burnt wool and smoke wafted into the room. She reached down to touch it and Misery jumped, twisted around, and dug his teeth into the skin between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Ow, you crazy cat!” She dropped the phone and grimaced at the drops of blood oozing out of her skin. She ran into the bathroom to wash it off, and caught her reflection in the mirror as she turned on the faucet.

  A wild-haired creature stared back at her, mascara smudged around her eyes and splotches of dirt or ash trailing down her cheeks. She raised her bangs to see a small scab right below her widow’s peak.

  Tracing her fingers over the scar, she leaned over the sink to look closer. It felt strange, almost as if it formed letters. No. Not a word, a number.

  The number. Three sixes, carved right into her skin.

  Gasping for air, she stumbled back to her room in a daze, picking her phone up from the floor. Cyrus was calling her again, but she didn’t answer. Could she trust him? Layla didn’t seem to like the Domitians. But did she trust Layla? She needed someone to help her figure out what was real and what was not. She picked up her coat and held up a singed sleeve. This was as real as the bleeding numbers on her forehead.

  Her phone buzzed and she saw a picture on the screen. May, with the biggest grin she had ever seen, holding onto the man behind her as if she was afraid he would disappear at any moment. Sam.

  You were right! her text came through, with several hearts and smiley faces next to it. Sam told me I’m beautiful. He told me I’m brave, and that I can fight beside you, like a pack of wolves against the sheep of the world. Rachel has no idea who she’s messing with. I’m sorry for what I said, this changes everything.

  Des blinked and read it again. Layla had assured her Sam was taking care of May. Was this how he was doing that, by flattering her and telling her she was brave for attacking a homeless man? How had they made her believe in Lucifer’s story? Des peered at the photo and noticed Sam’s eyes glowed red. It was either a trick of the camera, or Sam was a demon too.

  As if answering her question, another text came through.

  Sam showed me his wings. He says you’ll get them too.

  Des gripped her arms around her sides as if to keep wings from bursting forth. It didn’t stop her body from shaking. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, and knew who she needed to hold her right now, who could keep her from falling apart. Adrian.

  She pulled on her boots and her coat and stepped around her growling cat. Rushing down the stairs, she nearly collided with her mom.

  “Well, look who’s up! How late were you out last night? Did you know I tried to call you…” her mom’s voice trailed off as she took in her daughter’s appearance. “My god.”

  Des ran a self-conscious hand over her matted hair.

  Her mother sniffed the air. “Have you been smoking?”

  “No.” Des shifted her feet.

  “And what is that? Are you bleeding?” Her voice went up an octave at the end.

  Des touched her thumb to her forehead in horror as a
small trickle of blood ran down to her nose. She wiped it with her sleeve and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going Des, you can’t go out like that!”

  Des reached for the handle, her heart racing.

  “Desdemona!”

  Her mother’s cry followed her as she ran. The train station was only three blocks down but it felt like miles away. Someone cried out as she raced past the corner store, and a trail of jeering laughter followed her footsteps. Bolting down the concrete steps, she slipped into the subway car as the doors chimed closed. It was fairly empty at this time of day, but every pair of eyes swung to her. A prim high heeled lady close to her clutched her purse tighter. A man leaning against the far pole shook his head.

  Des picked the corner seat near the end of the car and slumped down, pulling her coat collar as high as it would go. The train rattled along the recessed open-air tracks, high concrete walls sweeping up to the streets above. The station platforms rushed by, carved into the walls like long shadowed archways.

  My children are always watching you, Layla had said. Even in the tunnels where I don’t like to go. Des peeked out the window as the train car slid through a short tunnel, looking for creatures in the darkness. Cyrus knew there were things watching her. He tried to show her. But how could she tell who was a friend and who was an enemy?

  She closed her eyes and saw Lucifer’s face, heard his soft, insistent whisper in her ear. Heard the shrill cries of demons swirling through red streaked skies, blending with the shriek of steel against the rails. The smell of smoke and ash filled her nostrils and she opened her eyes to see two teenagers brazenly smoking a joint. They grinned at her and she thought she saw teeth where they shouldn’t be, horns poking out of their hair. She blinked and it was only braids, their hair twisted into stylish knots.

  She sighed in relief as Adrian’s stop came into view, and ran all the way to his apartment, barely making it up the stairs before she collapsed against his door.

  “Adrian,” she cried out weakly, slapping her palms on the faded paint. She bent over to try and catch her breath as the door opened and Slate looked down at her.