by Lisa Voisin
“Because of the impact we can have—that awe—it’s so easy for us to affect you. Being close to one of us can lead to a type of enthrallment, which you experienced earlier today. It becomes intoxicating for you, addictive, for both the human and the angel. We were never designed to be with you physically. That is considered perverse among our kind. It’s an abuse of our power, a line we’re not meant to cross. Those who do suffer immensely for it.” She got up and paced my room again, ruffling her wings, and specks of blue light danced around her.
“What happened to them?” I asked.
“Many became addicted to the enthrallment, as did the people they enthralled. Eventually, the fallen learned how to use it to manipulate and control. The further the angel fell, the more dark and self-serving the enthrallment became, where they drained the life force of their victims until there was nothing left.” Arielle turned to me. “You’ve seen Damiel do it. It’s what makes him so dangerous.”
I recalled the way I’d had a hard time breaking my date with Damiel, how tired he’d made me, and shivered. I was lucky Michael had come along when he did. Damiel had used that same charm on Fiona and look what happened to her.
I wanted to ask Arielle if Michael had done that with me but didn’t know how to ask. I searched my memories from both lives, old and new, but found nothing, nothing that seemed like I was being controlled. Instead, Michael shut himself down, trying to keep us apart, as if he had the right to choose for both of us.
“You said before it was a line you’re not meant to cross. Where—exactly—is it?” I asked. Michael had said he couldn’t be with me that way, but he’d kissed me. Had we already crossed it?
“It’s not easy to define, since it’s a matter of enthrallment and addiction. There are some alcoholics who can have a glass of wine and not go on a binge, while others can’t take even one sip,” she explained. “Our way has been to avoid human contact altogether, and Michael’s track record hasn’t been very good.”
It still didn’t answer my question. Was there something else she wasn’t telling me?
“I don’t know everything that happened between you and Michael,” she said. “But I do know it impacted you. Why else would you have been intrigued by ancient history for so long, and not only in this life?”
I’d been into ancient history before? In other lifetimes?
“Being near Michael brought forward some of your memories, but when Damiel tried to force them all to come in at once, it opened you right up,” she continued, “so even though your mind might not remember all the details—your soul does.”
The whole idea of my soul remembering things made my head hurt. I could sense more memories lurking in the back of my mind, threatening to reveal themselves, and I was suddenly tired. “Why did Michael come back? He said he’d been given another chance.”
Arielle put an arm around my shoulder, her presence as soothing as I imagined a sister’s would be. “I don’t know all of God’s plan. But I know one thing. You and Michael were brought together again for a reason.”
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, the sound of growling startled me awake. The air in my room felt cool and damp against my skin, and through my open curtains, clouds hung in the sky like huge black sponges, blocking the sun. I sat up, kicking the blankets off, and listened. Over the sound of heavy rain beating on the roof, I heard another snarl. Close. I’d know that sound anywhere.
Hellhounds.
Could they see me inside my house? Tell if I was awake? They were ghostly at times, neither in this world nor out of it. Could walls keep them out, or would they just come rushing in? The more afraid you are, the more they materialize, Michael had said.
Great, I thought, realizing that my skin was already starting to prickle with cold sweat; my mouth tasted of iron. Now what?
I didn’t know how well they could see, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Avoiding the windows and leaving all the lights out, I grabbed my housecoat and sneaked into the hallway.
I checked Mom’s room and heard her slow, rhythmic breathing through the door. She was still asleep.
Should I wake her and try to explain what these things were? If I did, if she believed me, it would only frighten her. I’d be willing to bet that two scared people were better than one when it came to materializing hellhounds. I couldn’t take that chance, not when I didn’t know how to fight them. Last time I’d encountered these things, Michael had been there to scare them away.
Something twitched at my throat, the necklace from Fatima thrumming as it had around Damiel. Was he nearby too?
Standing in the hallway, I took deep breaths, fighting the urge to panic. The clicking of the old furnace, the humming of the fridge, and the incessant pelting of rain against the roof were almost deafening. Drowning it all out was the sound of my own breathing, the hammering of my own heart. I wished Michael had told me more about hellhounds. I had no idea how to fight these things and I couldn’t outrun them. But the growling had stopped. Perhaps they were gone.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a big knife. In the dark, I showered and quickly dressed, all the while listening for any more growls and not hearing any. I was so tense that when my doorbell rang, it was all I could do not to scream.
I checked the door. Michael stood there, shaking some of the rain from his hair.
I forgot all about hellhounds. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you get to school alive.” He motioned to the cedars in the far corner of my front yard. Behind them, a lone hellhound paced. It was solid, its wet fur matted. Seeing me, its red eyes flared and held mine, sending a terrible chill up my spine. If I’d gone out alone, it would have attacked.
I stepped back from the door. “I heard it this morning.”
“There was another breach last night,” he said. “Damiel, probably, sending spies. That’s just one of them. There are several.”
“Oh,” I said, swallowing a hard lump that had formed in my throat. Seeing him all serious and protective made my heart hurt. “What about my mom? She’s still asleep.”
“We put sigils around your home. They can’t get in.”
“Sigils?” I said. “What are they?”
“They’re a warding system. Symbols we use to keep lesser demons away.”
My limbs transformed into jelly. “It would have been nice to know about that.”
“We just did them.” He looked a bit sheepish, but it didn’t change his demeanor, which made it clear that he was only here on business. He wore a different jacket—waterproof. Good. I wasn’t ready to give up his other one yet.
My attention wandered back to the hellhound. Its teeth were wet and slimy and its eyes blazed with hellfire. The hairs on my neck bristled from the sheer brutishness of it. Like prey, I couldn’t help but stare. It was a creature of destruction, and without a doubt the most horrifying thing I’d ever seen.
“Stop that,” Michael said.
I flinched. “What?”
“Staring at it.”
“Sorry,” I said. His eyes, crystal clear, flickered with light. Just wanting to stare into them as well—but for different reasons—I looked away. “What about school? Should I stay home?”
“We put sigils around the school a while back. So it’s safe.”
“It didn’t keep Damiel away.”
“Damiel’s no hellhound.” There was an edge to his voice—irritation? Fatigue? “I’ve yet to find a symbol that will keep him out. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
He turned to me and his expression softened. I hoped he was going to say something romantic, like he wanted to be with me, or even that he was wrong to push me away. But he didn’t.
“Well, your home is safe, and your school is safe,” he said briskly. “The trick is getting you from here to there.” A wet tendril of hair fell into his eyes and he raked it back with his hand. “Want to take your chances on the bus?”
No. Not likely. I was horrified until I realized he
was smiling. “A ride sounds good,” I said.
Grabbing my school bag and umbrella, I took a step outside. As soon as my foot hit the pavement, the hellhound launched, charging right for me. My breath hitched, and in that moment time stood still. The warding necklace pulsed at my throat, and Michael’s halo pulsed a bubble of white flame around both of us, stopping the beast in its tracks. Then Michael drew his sword and sliced through the hellhound’s neck. It vanished into a puff of slimy black smoke before its head could even hit the ground.
From out of nowhere, a second hellhound materialized to our left. Where had it come from? It lunged for my throat. Jolting, I staggered backward and almost fell, but Michael caught me.
He flared his halo around us again and the hellhound backed up, snarling. Testing the fiery barrier, it inched closer, snapping its jaws at me. Michael raised his sword to strike, as another hellhound appeared to the right.
“Get inside,” he said to me.
I turned to make a run for it, when another hellhound formed between me and the door. Roiling smoke blocked my way.
“I can’t.”
“Hold still,” he said.
In a single arcing motion, Michael’s sword sliced both left and right, taking out two of the hellhounds. Smoke, black as coal dust, exploded everywhere. I held my breath. Reaching over me, he slid his body around mine and lunged at the third, piercing its heart. Black fluid oozed an oil stain from its chest. It took a step closer, and with a shudder it collapsed on the walkway before it flickered and disappeared.
Thinking it would come back any second, I stared at the empty space the last hellhound left behind. When Michael stepped into view, his sword was already gone. I wanted to know where the weapon came from, if he carried it all the time, but I couldn’t think of that. Not yet. I was too busy swallowing the bile at the base of my throat and trying to deal with what had just happened. Not knowing what to say, I looked at up him. He always seemed so strong, like nothing could hurt him. After he fought Damiel, I had a sense that fighting was a part of who he was—perhaps what he was here to do. I also knew that a part of him was thousands of years old, but with his hair damp from the shower and curling at his temples, he looked my age and very human. It made him seem vulnerable.
“Thanks,” I said.
He shrugged. “They usually won’t try to cross the halo, but with you here…”
“You used me as bait?”
When he looked at me, his eyes still held all that vulnerability, as though my accusation hurt. “I’d never do that.”
All business again, he surveyed the area before leading me to the car, and it was like he’d put a wall up between us. A cool and formal wall that said he was just doing his job. I wasn’t sure if it was the shock of seeing the hellhounds again or what had passed between us the day before, but something unsettled me.
I wanted to speak but didn’t know what to say. The silence between us grew, and I wished he would say something, anything, to lighten the mood. The cold gray light from the sky made him look paler than normal, and I noticed the stubble on his jaw line, rings under his eyes. He hadn’t been home.
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It was a busy night.”
“None at all?”
“We used to be called the Ones Who Never Sleep. But sometimes I need to rest.”
“Is that one of the side effects of being part human?”
He gave me a puzzled look. “Why do you ask?”
“Arielle said something about it.”
“She did, did she?” He smiled at that. “When?”
“Last night. She wanted to see if I was okay.” Everything she’d told me was too wondrous, too strange. I was still processing. I had huge pangs of guilt for wanting him so much, but I needed him to know that kissing me hadn’t hurt me. “I am. Fine. By the way.”
“Good,” he said, but his expression was unreadable.
When we arrived at school, the parking lot was already full so Michael pulled the car into a no-parking zone around back to drop me off. As soon as the wipers stopped, rain pelted the windshield, making it nearly impossible to see outside. Sitting beside him in a parked car, I was close enough to smell his skin. It reminded me of our kiss the day before, and I wanted to be close to him so badly it made my head spin. I had to get out of the car.
Gathering my things, I opened the door and stepped outside. The rush of cold wet air forced a gasp from my lungs. I ran for shelter.
Michael followed. “Wait.”
I stopped, and he slowed his pace as he approached, taking shelter under the wooden awning.
“About what happened yesterday,” he said. “It’s for the best.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. On one hand, I knew the stakes were high, but on the other, I couldn’t bear not seeing him. “You’re not going to ignore me again, are you?” Like my dad does.
I’d lost my dad the day he chose another woman over our family. Bill had a life of his own at school, and Mom was always working. Maybe I was destined to lose people no matter what I did.
“Of course not,” he said, folding his arms protectively across his chest. “But I can’t change what I am.”
I let out my breath, not realizing that I’d been holding it. “I don’t want you to,” I said, and opening the door I ducked into the school.
When I arrived at my locker, Elaine was shaking water droplets off her umbrella. I said a polite, if cool, hello. Her mousy-haired friend Lor joined her almost immediately.
“Did you hear about Fiona?” Lor asked, her face shining with the excitement of new gossip. I flinched.
I thought about turning back to my locker and pretending not to listen, but I didn’t. Instead, I made my eavesdropping obvious, as they tried to ignore me.
“God, the way she left—on a stretcher. I mean, everyone saw her.” Elaine gave a big dramatic shudder. “I’d be mortified.”
“How can you talk about her like that?” I snapped at them. Elaine wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate any way she could, but I didn’t care. “She was nice to everyone, even you.”
“Get a grip,” Elaine said all high-and-mightily, then turned to Lor. “We were just sayin’ it won’t be easy for her to come back. Now that everyone knows.”
“Whose fault would that be?” I said, straining to keep my voice down. “You’re the one who’s been saying shit, spreading lies about her.”
“We don’t spread lies,” Lor protested.
“We find out the facts that people want to know,” Elaine said. “But if someone’s life is a total screw-up and people want to know about it, we can’t help that.”
“Fiona’s life’s a what? You don’t even know her!” I wanted to choke both of them so badly my hands were shaking. I balled them into fists.
Elaine grabbed Lor’s arm and, even though I was at least two inches taller, she somehow managed to look down on me. “Come on, Lor. We don’t have time for her issues,” she said, and they headed down the hall, arm in arm, snickering.
As I grabbed my books from my locker, I remembered those horrible black things—minions—that Arielle had shown me the night before. Perhaps Elaine had one of them on her. If they attacked Fiona, surely they attacked other people as well. With those bitches Elaine and Lor around, coming back to school wouldn’t be easy. Fiona was going through enough. There had to be something I could do to help.
Maybe there was. I had an idea. I only hoped Michael would go for it.
***
In math class, I realized I’d forgotten to text Heather back about my “date.” She was so curious she texted me as soon as our teacher’s back was turned.
I replied with a quick message that said didn’t happen.
When she read it, she mouthed the words What happened? at me. I shrugged, not wanting to get into it in class.
After class, Heather caught up with me and walked with me to my locker. “So, I thought you and Damiel had a date?”
I
tensed at the mention of his name. “We did.” I was afraid to let on too much. Damiel might not have any records because he didn’t technically exist, but he was still real to everyone here. If people knew he came over, they might get suspicious. Not sure who could be listening, I kept my voice low. “But Michael came by first, and we hung out instead.”
“You blew him off? For Michael?” When I nodded, she continued, “How did Damiel take it?”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. She wouldn’t come up with the truth on her own. After all, it’s not every day that you narrowly escape dating a demon. “Okay, I guess,” I replied, bluffing. “It wasn’t serious or anything.”
“You got any idea where he is today? He hasn’t been around.”
Hell? I thought as I shook my head.
“I guess you wouldn’t. I’ve already heard a few girls whispering about him.”
I resisted the temptation to tell her my thoughts. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her the truth about him. The word demon was hardly in Heather’s vocabulary, but I did wish I could talk to someone about what was happening to me. Someone other than Michael.
“So, Michael, huh? I’m glad. He’s way more your type than Damiel. The bad-boy thing is really only good for exploring the Jungian shadow side of your unconscious.”
I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “Jungian what?”
“Carl Jung believed that everyone has a shadow, or dark side to their personality.”
“Oh.” I didn’t think Carl Jung, whoever he was, could explain Damiel’s dark side.
She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, I knew you really liked Michael ever since that day we went on the hike.”
I remembered that day, how his carrying me seemed so close, so intimate that it scared me. Now, I couldn’t get close enough.
“Has he kissed you yet?”
I didn't want to answer her question, but my face gave it all away.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She grinned.
“No,” I said, blushing. “It’s not what you think.” How could I explain how complicated things were? That he and I had been in love before, and I was so in love with him now that it hurt to think about it? If Heather thought there was a chance between us, she’d only look for ways to set us up, and that would only drive him further away.