“This is their true form. I have seen many angels in my time here but I always find them the most beautiful in this state of being.” Ashley strolled toward the shoreline as she spoke and Jenda followed. Glancing back, she saw the silvery shades moving along with them.
Without thought to propriety, Jenda let her curiosity take over. “Okay. What are you? You are not human, angel, or vampire. Are you a ghost?”
Ashley thought for a moment before answering. “I am a trapped soul. I lived my life in a selfish and uncaring way. The only love I ever felt was for my daughter and even that couldn’t conquer the addiction. I couldn’t stand to be lonely. When I was alone with my own mind, I relived the things that were done to me before I fled my home. The drugs were the only way to ease the pain.”
Her blue eyes filled with real tears. Not the red tinged droplets Jenda had grown use to. “God gives us the right to choose but not always the strength to take the better path. I was weak, unlike you. My penance has been to wait here, in solitude except for the angels who come to help guide me, for the descendant who would eventual come. I am to offer you the choice and, after, I will be forgiven because I have faced my own demons. Are you ready to face yours?”
Jenda thought over Ashley’s words as they strolled closer to the head of the large brick bridge. “The choice, it’s really mine?”
Ashley answered without pause. “Of course. Free will is a great gift, Jenda.”
Still untrusting, Jenda pushed. “I will not be punished? God will allow me to enter into heaven without any retribution for not fighting the demons?”
“Yes. You will be welcomed because you have lived a good life. No one can expect any more from you. You have fought so hard to meet such a sad end.” Ashley reached out and placed her hand on Jenda’s shoulder.
“I have killed and I have enjoyed the slaying.” Jenda transformed from a timid girl caught in strange disbelief into the hardened vampire female.
Ashley, unafraid of Jenda’s lengthening fangs, looked into the green eyes that spoke of months of pain. “All of this has been part of his plan. Angels cannot fight this battle. Through the designs of others, you have become the mightiest soldier in God’s army. He can forgive the monster you became because of the love in your heart. Put your trust in him and he will reward you.”
Jenda mulled over the last few months of her life. She had nearly forgotten what being human felt like. Of all the paranormal, supernatural, and demonic things that had interfered with what could have been a normal teenage life, she had never thought much about God’s place. When all the evil manifested in living breathing color it was hard to remember that good was somewhere behind the scenes. She realized that she was angry with God, that she was confused by his absence when she and Soborgne had needed help, but she still wanted his love.
“I will fight.” Three words sealed her fate.
Ashley smiled and the sight was radiant. “It is time.”
An enormous feeling of peace and tranquility settled over the land of Nod. A hum of energy that lifted her spirits and washed away all of her pain lulled its way through Jenda’s body. “Ashley, where is it coming from?”
The three silvery creatures floated up next to the girl before she had a chance to speak. Their forms shifted slowly, as if fading in from behind the silvery curtains from somewhere else. The exquisite splendor of the angels overtook Jenda. She didn’t know how to respond to the whirring of feeling and the strange spectacle that took place before her eyes.
The ethereal beings changed into solid flesh. Two males and one female turned lavender eyes to Ashley and both she and Jenda gasped in awe. The angels resembled humans greatly. Impossibly tan, beautiful, perfect, flawless humans. The real difference was that two of them had large wings rising up from their bare backs. One of the males did not have wings, but they all had strange colored eyes.
They circled Ashley as her body lifted into the air. Her feet dangled several inches off the ground as Jenda sunk to her knees. The light that shined all around them should have blinded a vampire—even a day walker could not look upon such a bright light without scorching their corneas. Yet, the luminance did not pierce her as the sun might have. A thousand times brighter than the day around them, it was a soft light that caused her no pain.
Jenda felt no fear or worry as she watched Ashley arch her back and cry out to the heavens. The girl’s vociferous exclamations were not caused by discomfort. Instead, they were joyous cries of a soul finally freed of the ultimate burden. The angels bowed their heads and Ashley was carefully lowered to the ground. From her back, a set of new wings protruded.
The newborn angel fell into Jenda’s open arms as they cried together. Knowing her own flesh and blood would finally hold peace in her heart renewed Jenda’s belief in her cause. Her voice was filled with amazement and respect as she spoke. “Thank you, Ashley. Thank you for helping guide me. You have been my miracle.” Jenda turned to the three angels. “I can’t promise victory but I can promise to fight with all I have.”
The largest male, with dark brown hair and large doe like eyes, stepped closer. Abraxos held Jenda’s small hand between his two larger ones. She marveled at the warmth that radiated from his golden skin into her pale flesh. “You are most welcome, little one. As a tribute to you, our warrior in this time of need, I have a gift.”
Jenda started to modestly refuse but the angel gave her no chance. Releasing her hand, Abraxos drew a wickedly sharp stiletto from the wide leather belt that hung at his hips, just below the rippling muscles of his stomach. Jenda assumed the knife would be charged with magical demon killing power because her teenage mind instantly referred back to movies, video games, and anime. She held her hands out to accept the weapon, but the angel smiled and turned the blade to his wrist.
The scent hit her first and the hunger ripped through her as if she had been struck by lightning. The earthy sweet smell made her think of vanilla and rain on the hot asphalt during summertime. Abraxos’s blood swelled up from the deep cut on his forearm and Jenda lost herself in the crystalline ruby color that seemed to beckon her. He lifted his well-muscled arms out to her, presenting himself as an offering. Jenda went to him without trepidation or fear.
Her mouth came down on his arm, her lips cupped the wound, and her tongue lapped gently against the fount. A glorious fire burned in every nerve and vein throughout her body as Jenda moaned in pure ecstasy. Drinking the angel’s blood was like swallowing a live electric line without the pain. Energy, uncontrolled and all encompassing, surged in an unbroken circuit between vampire and ethereal being.
20
Soborgne felt the heat of the land beneath her and she struggled to regain consciousness. Haunting visions of Drew’s face and of the demon Andras danced behind her closed lids. She fought against the heaviness of her body and the strange sensation of floating in her head. When at last she opened her eyes, panic shot through her. The fear awakened her limbs from the comatose state and she tried to scurry for cover.
Only after a moment of terror did she realize that the illuminant orb did not turn her into a pile of smoldering ashes. Looking around, Soborgne’s heart sank into a deep pit when she realized she was inside the old nightmare from the night the Dracul had attacked the Castle Vajdahunyad. The only difference was that she understood she was not dreaming. She was in the land of the Red Sea and in the heart of the demon’s valley.
Locating the memory of what had happened to bring her to the demon world was like trying to pry something from the jaws of a steel trap. When it all came back, Drew’s betrayal left a bad taste in her mouth. The only thing she could not make sense of was the strange thought that Andras had saved her from the flames but she had perished in the rise of the sun. The blurred memories pieced together until she formed a hypothesis of how she had ended up in the land of the demons.
The only obvious answer was that she had died. Soborgne tried to be upset but she could not muster the emotion. She strained to feel deceased but couldn�
�t seem to recognize what such a thing would be like. The sensation of the world around her was so strong that she could not believe she was a spirit drifting in a hellish afterlife. Even the fabric of the strange black robe rubbing against her naked flesh seemed far too real to be spectral.
She gave up on deciding whether she was dead, undead, or alive. Deciding that she would consider herself still undead until she obtained further confirmation, she surveyed the landscape. In the distance, Soborgne could see the dark cliffs where she had first encountered Andras in her dreams, and nearer to her she saw the beginning of the path that had led to her death in the final nightmare. She wanted to weep and beg for mercy but there was no one to hear her cries. She was alone in the barren place and thankful that the line of snarling beasts had not formed on the path and summoned her fatal walk. Pushing herself off the ground, Soborgne contemplated her next move.
She could not follow the path northwest, knowing that it led to the ancient tree and her certain death. She feared the steep rocky cliffs in the north and her possible exposure to Andras’s torments. To the east, the cavernous gulfs offered a treacherous landscape where anything could hide. To the far west, a wall of fog hung high in the air, emitting a sinister feel. In the south, there was nothing. The expanse of barren and cracked land seethed in the sun. If she took this route, it would leave her exposed to anything that wished to do her harm.
All options seemed to lead her into danger and it was to the heavy mist to the west that she chose to journey. The terrain looked less likely to hide the enemy or cause her injury despite the ominous sensation that coursed through her body with every inch she gained. Soborgne cautiously topped a low ridge to see the mass of water spreading out in front of her. The red skyline reflected in its motionless surface and a wooden bridge stretched into the heavy fog.
If not for the crimson shade that covered every part of the scenery, it would have been a beautiful place. The quiet and stillness lured Soborgne into a false sense of security. She carefully maneuvered down to the shoreline and sat beside the water. She trailed her fingers in the cool liquid and pondered the bridge. The hub of the strange feeling of obscure fear seemed to stem from the structure. The passage may have been her only means of escape but she worried that a fate worse than the horrendous death she had dreamed might await her on the other side. The thought of Patrick snuck through her mind.
Soborgne jumped to her feet and held her fists clenched at her sides. Tossing back her dark hair, she raised her chin in a determined manner. Reminding herself that she was not some weakling to dawdle at the side of a pretty shoreline and wish for someone to save her, she marched toward the bridge with her head held high.
It took a simple sound to send her determination to nothing. The deep voice sent a tingle up her spine and caused her step to falter. “I wouldn’t cross that bridge if I were you.”
After a moment of hesitation, she fled. Summoning all of her vampire speed and demon power, Soborgne ran for the passage that led her over the water. She hoped that whatever lay on the other side would offer her protection from the monstrous demon. She had barely gone ten feet before he caught up with her. Her face smacked into his powerful, naked chest as he landed in front of her in a single bound. His powerful, talon clad hands imprisoned Soborgne and hauled her feet from the ground.
“You don’t listen very well, do you?” Amusement danced in Andras’s eyes even as Soborgne fought to free herself from his grasp.
Blood trickled from her nose and her fangs elongated instantly. Realizing resistance was futile, Soborgne spit in the face of her enemy. Andras tossed her roughly to the side, shocked by the girl’s audacity. She landed face-first on the hardened dirt and slid in a cloud of red dust. Never pausing, Soborgne was up and running as soon as her body stopped skidding. Again, Andras did not let her get away.
Instead of confronting her face-to-face, the demon prince grabbed her from behind. He took to the wind, his wings pounding against the thick air in rhythmic beats. Soborgne did not struggle. The two-hundred-foot drop would not kill her but she knew that the injuries would heal slowly and she would be susceptible to Andras and the other demons while in a weakened state. Instead, she forced her body to relax and concentrated on formulating a plan.
“Now that I have your attention my little darkling, perhaps you will listen to reason.” Andras’s voice remained cool and steady as he carried her across the deserted red landscape and away from the bridge. Soborgne hated how perfectly his arms encased her body and how the warmth of his flesh sent zings through her. She hated and feared the demon but the cursed blood that ran through her veins likened to his presence.
When the girl did not respond to him, Andras continued. “I know you fear me and what lurks beneath the illusion of humanity and vampire that you have become. I am offering you my assistance. I can provide you with a place where you will not dread anything at all. You can conquer heaven, hell, and everything between. No one will abandon or hurt you. You will be a queen.”
Soborgne heard his words but she refused to respond. His lies and trickery would not work. She had let Augustine lead her astray and he had left her to burn when she needed him. Instead of focusing on the demon’s proposal and the ancient vampire’s betrayal, Soborgne focused on the ground below her. She searched the land for means of an exit once she found a way to escape the arms of her captor.
Fear numbed her body and made her tongue grow thick as she saw the creatures crawl out from their hiding spots. The made their way to the path just as they had in her dream, a horde of mutated beasts. Soborgne wanted to demand her release or extract a promise of safety, at the very least. Instead, her voice cracked and her words sputtered into monosyllabic nonsense.
Soborgne’s body felt flushed and blood sweat formed on her brow. Her entire frame shuddered against Andras’s firm arms. He felt her violent reaction and terror and to him, it tasted of sweet victory. Soborgne had few weaknesses and he needed to touch them all in order to convince her to join with him. He had already played to her vanity with promises of having an entire world at her disposal.
Tightening his grip, Andras took her higher. The distance relaxed her enough that he was sure his words would not drown in her panic ridden mind. Bending his head low, he placed his lips a whisper away from her ear. He took pleasure from the way she relaxed her head back against him. Her silky hair aroused feelings he no longer thought were possible. As her chest rose and fell in a breath of relief, he knew he had to play to her last weakness. Compassion and love.
Soborgne had been the strong one, her whole life. She had always protected those she loved with fierce devotion. When she finally chose the path of selfishness, she had done so because the others had feared her and turned her away. She had thought she loved Augustine and, in truth, it had only been the bond. Augustine’s death had severed the link but Soborgne could not feel the broken connection in the demon land.
Inside the other realms, the bond lay dormant. Once she returned to the surface, the loss would be crippling. Until that time, Andras chose to allow Sobo to believe that her protector had left her willingly. The betrayal and hurt fed Soborgne’s self-loathing and left her vulnerable and ready to be conquered. If she believed she had no one left to turn to, she would come to him willingly.
Resisting the urge to trace the curve of her delicate ear with the tip of his black, forked tongue, Andras began his final plea. “Would you go back to the land of the living? Would you choose to be among those who have abandoned you?”
He paused, but when Soborgne did not answer, he continued. “When I found you, you were alone in a burning house. The fire had already begun to singe away your beautiful, raven hair. Your clothes were burning and your flesh had started to blister. I had to rip the fabric from you to keep you from being torched.”
Andras spoke gently; a terrible regret filled every syllable. Soborgne remained silent. She had no words for what the people she trusted had done to her. She knew she should be thankful to the
demon for saving her not once but twice. She could not say the words. Her only answer was the shimmering tear that fell from her round young cheek onto the arms that held her.
Andras shifted and Soborgne quickly found her head resting on the demon’s powerful chest as he cradled her like a child. She did not want him to know how much she had longed for someone to hold her the way he was or how much she had missed the sound of a heartbeat so near to her.
Augustine had held her with greedy abandon as if he had wanted to consume her. She could not remember the last time someone had held her with that type of tenderness. The thought of how she had once secretly hoped Patrick would hold her in the same way made the moment that much sadder.
Andras hid his triumphant smile as the girl’s tears trickled down his muscular chest and one small hand unconsciously lay over his heart. He drifted on the currents of warm air for a moment before he went on. “You fear these children of your own ilk. They may be the darker side of you, but they are your brothers and sisters. They will fall to their knees to worship you and yet you turn them away.
“They have been condemned to this hell for an eternity and they seek justice and freedom. You, of all creatures, should understand how one would want to punish those who caused their demise. Would you not do the same if the woman who stole your humanity, the man who led you astray and left you to die, or the boy who left you to burn were here? Would you not want to end their existence?”
Soborgne’s head rose slowly and she turned her face upward so that he could look into her deep brown eyes. The blood tears clung to her dark lashes like ruby droplets and her full lower lip trembled. As her hand slid from his pecks up to his neck and tangled in his long hair, Andras held his breath in anticipation. With a shuddering breath, Soborgne caved.
Her eyes captured his and held them as she whispered, “I guess you are all I have left.”
Requiem of Humanity Page 55