Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “I’ll be there in a moment. Don’t disappoint me, Seer.”

  I wiped the sweat from my brow and reached for my utility belt, finding the small plastic explosive to blow open the back of the truck. I pressed the sticky bomb against the lock and took cover in the alley, listening to the beep of the ten-second count down.

  A small explosion ripped through the air, scattering metal pieces of the truck’s doors all over the ground. Instantly, the sound of gunfire filled the street. As predicted, they had left one more man inside the truck with the rogue angel to make sure he didn’t try to escape—except this guy was a U.S. Marshal. In my hysterical state, I prayed it wasn’t Raylan Givens.

  I peeked around the corner of the dumpster, spotting the Marshal standing near the edge of the truck, scanning the street for any sign of me. As quietly as possible, I slid the assault rifle around to my hands, taking deep breaths so that my heart rate slowed just like Belial had shown me earlier. One shot. Just one.

  I pulled the trigger. To my great honor and great horror, the bullet hit the side of his firearm, knocking it right out of his hands. I leapt up and raced in front of him, the M16 aimed at his head.

  “Don’t move!”

  The Marshal, a tall brown-haired man, glared at me without saying anything. I motioned for him to get down. “Off. Now.”

  He stepped off the truck, granting me a view of the inside. The rogue angel sat motionless on the right side with his hands and feet in cuffs. He wouldn’t even look at me. Why? Had he seen this coming? Did he know this was going to happen because of the Book of Time?

  “This isn’t going to work,” the Deputy said in an unnervingly calm voice with just a hint of a Southern twang in it. “You’ve got nowhere to go but down.”

  I met his gaze and spoke honestly. “I know.”

  I jammed the butt of my gun into his forehead. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. I stepped over him and yanked off the gas mask before climbing onto the truck.

  “Stand up.”

  The redhead unfolded his gangly frame and stood. His face betrayed nothing—a blank slate, almost like a soldier.

  “Did you know this was going to happen?”

  He didn’t answer. I shook my head. “Answer me, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot you.”

  Finally, his lips parted. “Thou shalt not take the Lord thy God’s name in vain.”

  Anger flared through me. “Really? You’re gonna quote the Bible at me after murdering seven people?”

  “Qui finem vitae extremum inter munera ponat naturae.”

  I knew that quote. “‘It is as natural to die as to be born.’ Dying’s not the same as being killed. Maybe one day you’ll realize that. Now move.”

  I walked backwards, keeping the gun trained on the rogue angel, until I reached the edge of the truck. He followed me, still staring like he could see the soul beneath my flesh, and he didn’t care for what he saw. Couldn’t blame him.

  I had reached a somewhat tricky place. For a normal person, getting off the truck with a hostage would be a piece of cake, but not with the rogue angel. In the milliseconds it took to hit the ground, he could go for the gun. I could make him get down first, but that would still leave me vulnerable when I jumped off. But there wasn’t enough time to weigh my options. I could still hear sirens, screams, and gunshots in the distance. Belial was getting closer.

  I took a deep breath and jumped down. My boots hit the ground and then the whole world tilted. For a second, I didn’t know what happened. Then I felt his large hands rip the gun off the strap and toss it onto the sidewalk. Next, he reached for my neck. Time slowed down. His fingers inched for my throat. And then I remembered Belial’s words.

  “Angels are creatures of habit. He’ll probably go for your throat again. Not strangulation. Thinking like a soldier, it would be easier to snap your neck instead of waiting for you to suffocate.”

  He shifted one hand to my chin and the other to the base of my skull. “This maneuver is very hard to block, especially since he’s much stronger than you. If I become incapacitated or separated from you, you’ll have to fend for yourself. When he reaches for you, it leaves his upper body vulnerable. Aim the heel of your hand at his Adam’s apple and hit hard. The force will stop him long enough for you to get away or continue attacking.”

  “Got it.”

  He dropped his left hand, but kept the one underneath my chin, forcing me to meet his inhuman gaze. “I’m not stupid. I can feel your hesitation, your fear. One thing I have always liked about you is your ability to handle pressure. Most humans panic in life-threatening situations. You don’t. So do not hesitate or he will kill you and this alliance will have been for nothing.”

  Just as the rogue angel’s fingertips closed around my chin, I shoved the heel of my hand into his windpipe. His head snapped back and he gagged, his eyes going wide. I slammed my knee into his side and rolled us over, coming up with a syringe from my last hidden pocket. I plunged the needle into his neck, pumping the sedative into his system. He lay there gasping, then his eyes closed.

  “Excellent timing.”

  I turned to see Belial behind me in a black SUV, his perfectly groomed head sticking out the driver’s side window.

  I glared at him. “You could have helped.”

  He climbed out and then grabbed the rogue angel’s limp shoulders while I took hold of his feet, hefting the unconscious man between us. “You didn’t need it. Now let’s get moving. We don’t have long to lose them.”

  We tossed Edmond in the back seat and cuffed his wrists to the overhead handle just to be safe. I got in the front seat and Belial hit the gas, driving around the armored truck. I dug the slugs from the bullets out of my vest, staring at them in my palm. If they’d been headshots, I wouldn’t be here. Christ.

  “You handled yourself well,” Belial said.

  I threw the slugs out the window. “Don’t patronize me. Just drive.”

  He chuckled, making a right turn onto yet another empty street full of foreclosed businesses. Then he slammed on the brakes, nearly sending me flying through the windshield. I almost asked him what the hell he’d done that for when I noticed a blue pickup truck parked at a slant in the road about twenty feet away, blocking both lanes. But it wasn’t just the truck.

  Michael and Gabriel were standing in front of it.

  My mouth went dry and my pulse skyrocketed. I wished I had been imagining them there because of my adrenaline rush, but I knew it was really them.

  I kept my eyes on the pair and tilted my face towards Belial, my voice low. “What’ll happen if we try to ram them?”

  “They’ll puncture the tires.”

  “So we have to get out?”

  “Yes. We have to get out.”

  “Great,” I whispered, opening the car door. Belial did the same. I swallowed hard and forced myself to walk towards the two archangels. The closer I got, the more I could feel both of their auras surging around them like a stifling fog. They were furious. Absolutely furious with me. It hurt more than any of the other injuries I had sustained so far.

  “Gentlemen,” Belial said in his best snake-oil salesman voice. “Fancy meeting you here. I’m guessing a little birdie told you about our impromptu vacation?”

  They both ignored the comment. Gabriel spoke first. “You have one chance. Just one. Before anything gets more complicated.”

  “Pray tell, what chance is that?” the demon asked.

  “The deal is that you both surrender the rogue angel and return to Albany. No charges, no arrests, and no further problems.”

  “Sounds pleasant enough. What’s the counter-offer?”

  Gabriel’s blue eyes iced over. “Jail. Death. Take your pick, demon.”

  “Well, considering the fact that I’ve experienced both, I’d have to say I’m not a fan of either option. However, while I appreciate your little display, I’m afraid we have to decline.”

  Michael finally looked at me and the anger in his gaze hit me like a slap
in the face. “So, what? Does he speak for you now?”

  “No,” I said in a quiet voice. “But my answer is the same.”

  Michael closed his eyes, a pained expression flickering across his handsome face. “Don’t do this, Jordan. Just come home with me. With us. We can still fix this.”

  “I want to,” I whispered. “Believe me, I want to, but I can’t. I’m so sorry, Michael.”

  He sighed—a long, exhausted sound. “So am I. Gabriel?”

  I heard the rustling of cloth and then Gabriel disappeared from view. It took me a second to realize he’d tackled Belial. The two immediately locked themselves into a vicious battle, rolling into the street behind me as each one fought for control. I didn’t dare turn to watch them. I only had eyes for the man in front of me, my husband, the angel charged with stopping the woman he loved.

  His voice came out soft. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “How couldn’t I? I’m your husband. I’m your best friend.”

  “You’re an archangel.”

  He frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re trained to accept the fact that there will be collateral damage and lives you can’t save. You know the costs. You know the statistics. You can see the big picture because you know the exact date and time of the Rapture…but I don’t. I’m human. I’m going to die someday. I don’t have the luxury of knowing that everything will eventually be paradise. All I have is the time I’m given right now and the life in front of me. The life that I control. It’s all I’ve got, Michael. And I have to make it count. Just like I have to do whatever it takes to stop the Leviathan from arising and killing those people.”

  “And what if the rogue angel decides not to help you?” he snapped, making me flinch. “What if it’s impossible to change the future? What then? You’ll have ruined your life, ruined our marriage, for nothing.”

  “I know. But that’s a sacrifice I have to make, even if it’s more than I can possibly bear. I have to believe that I can stop this because it’s all on my shoulders. You can’t understand that because there’s always another way for you.”

  “We, ignorant of ourselves, beg often our own harms, which the wise powers deny us for our good; so we find profit by losing our prayers.”

  Shakespeare. Damn him, he knew exactly how to hit me where it hurt. “I don’t have a choice.”

  He gripped my shoulders, pulling me close, leaning down to my height as his green eyes searched my brown ones. “Yes, you do. You always do. Jordan, I love you and I would forgive you for anything…except this. Don’t do it. Don’t make me hurt you. Please.”

  Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. If this was the last time we were together before we became enemies, he wouldn’t see my weakness, only my strength.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Michael stared at me and then his hands dropped to his sides. He took a deep breath and I stepped back, waiting. He set his jaw and everything that had been my husband disappeared. The warrior inside him took over.

  “Very well. I’ll give you a sporting chance.”

  I threw myself at him. I used every single fighting move I knew. I held nothing back because I knew he could take it. He parried every blow, blocked every punch, and dodged every kick. I fought until my arms trembled, my breath was ragged, and my fists were numb. Through it all, he wore the same passive expression and waited for me to tire. Then he struck.

  He used tae-kwon-do, at first, but I soon realized that his fighting style was more than just that. Michael had been alive for centuries and so he knew techniques I’d never even heard of or seen in action. He had a counter attack for every punch I threw, a way to break all of my blocking, and a speed that practically rivaled the Flash. Mercifully, he never aimed for my face but my arms, my ribs, my stomach, and my legs all took the punishment instead. He knocked me down at least four times. I stopped counting after that. By then, I had to use every last bit of my strength just to stand up.

  The last time I fell, I stayed on the ground, staring at the holes in my gloves that exposed my bloody knuckles and watching my sweat pool beneath me on the pavement. I couldn’t last any longer. My entire body had broken into tremors from head to toe and my head was pounding. Pain swarmed my senses, consuming me completely. Despair set in. I couldn’t beat him. Not like this.

  His long shadow fell across my face. He knelt beside me, his voice calm and distant, as if he felt nothing. Maybe he didn’t. “Yield.”

  I laid my forehead on the ground, struggling to breathe through the stabbing pain in my ribs. Part of me wanted to give in. Just let him take me home and wait for the inevitable. Wait for everything to turn to shit and for me to somehow wake the Leviathan. At least I’d be with my family before it happened.

  I cut my eyes across the street to see Belial on his knees, his Kevlar vest torn in several places, blood dripping down his arms. Gabriel stood before him, holding a short sword beneath the demon’s chin as he ordered him to surrender. Belial met my gaze and gave a small nod.

  I fumbled for the dagger sheathed at the small of my back. Michael glanced at it.

  “That’s not going to hurt me.”

  “I know.” I sliced a quick line across my wrist. His eyes widened in horror. A tiny piece of my husband returned as he reached for me. The blood dripped onto my palm and I pressed my hand against his chest over his heart, smearing a dark red imprint.

  “With blood, I bind you to this spot. Walk no more until the spell is broken.”

  A red light in the shape of my hand glowed on his chest and then on the ground as I laid my hand on the road to finish the spell. He screamed in pain and fell on his hands and knees as the power trapped him in that spot. I heard Gabriel call out to us and turned to see him start towards me, but then Belial stood up and used his left hand to snap his fingers. Gabriel stopped dead as a red light burst around him in a circle, traced in the demon’s blood. Belial stepped outside of it with a satisfied smirk, waving at the angel.

  “Sorry, Gabe. Looks like you’ll be parking it for a while.”

  Enraged, the archangel reached for the demon but hissed as his hand hit the edge of the barrier, scalding his flesh. Belial walked over and offered to help me up but I refused, standing on my own.

  Michael struggled against the spell enough to look into my eyes and my heart shattered in that instance. I felt the full force of my betrayal and everything inside me wanted the world to end just so I wouldn’t have to face what I’d done.

  I turned away, my voice hoarse. “Get me out of here.”

  Belial looped my right arm across his shoulder and helped me back to the SUV. Once I was safely strapped in, we drove away, leaving two broken angels and the last of my humanity in our wake.

  BOOK FIVE: AWAKENED

  “It is the business of the very few to be independent; it is a privilege of the strong. And whoever attempts it, even with the best right, but without being obliged to do so, proves that he is probably not only strong, but also daring beyond measure. He enters into a labyrinth, he multiplies a thousandfold the dangers which life in itself already brings with it; not the least of which is that no one can see how and where he loses his way, becomes isolated, and is torn piecemeal by some minotaur of conscience.

  -Friedrich Nietzsche, “Beyond Good and Evil”

  Chapter 25

  Jordan

  THE CUT ON my wrist itched after the blood finally clotted. I wanted to scratch it, but I knew that would only make things worse. Besides, the discomfort gave me an excuse to stay distracted. A few years ago, I’d had a similar problem. The night after I’d accidentally killed Andrew, I had been staring at a butcher knife and wondering how long it would take me to die if I slit my wrists.

  The bathroom doorknob turned and I reached for my dagger on instinct. Belial w
alked in and I relaxed. Not long ago, the sight of the demon made my stomach clench and fear creep up my spine. Now, I only felt a vast emptiness whenever I saw him.

  He shut the door with one hand and then placed a First Aid kit on the counter. He popped it open and took a few items out. “How’s your wrist?”

  “I’ll survive.”

  “Yes, I suspect you will. I’m surprised, you know. I thought you might chicken out at the last minute, but you executed the blood spell perfectly. I’m rather proud of—”

  “Don’t,” I snarled. “If you finish that sentence, I’ll slit your throat.”

  He cast a sidelong glance at me and then smirked. “You tease.”

  I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me for his own amusement. I knew that I didn’t have a drop of energy left in me. I knew that getting angry was pointless. But I still picked up the dagger and tried to stab him. He caught my wrist and pinned me against the bathroom door. The dagger clattered harmlessly onto the tile floor. My aching body sagged, only held up by his gloved hands on my wrists.

  Belial arched an eyebrow, not hiding the haughtiness in his tone. “Feel better?”

  “Listen to me, you sorry son of a bitch. I may be working with you right now, but that doesn’t mean I hate you any less. So cut the shit or I swear, I’ll wait until you fall asleep and find out if you really are immortal.”

  He clucked his tongue. “My, my. Your temper’s awfully short. Upset because you’ve betrayed your husband and your friend just like you said you would?”

  I thrashed against his iron grip, but he didn’t budge an inch. “Fuck you, Belial.”

  He leaned in closer and then slid his knee between my legs, forcing a small sound out of my throat that made me ashamed of myself. “Careful. Don’t offer it if you don’t mean it.”

  “Let go of me.”

  “Or what? You’ll kill me? Let us be honest, Jordan. You need me. You have no one else in this world but me right now. So don’t take your anger out on the last person who has bothered to support you.”