Warring Angel

by Samantha L. Strong

Our Wards were about to run past a light again when I saw a patrol coming. Glaring at the demons who marched along behind the Gestapo, I said, “Wait.”

  “Wait,” mouthed Chana, as she put a hand on her mother’s arm. Our connection was powerful.

  They melded into the shadows.

  Zaponsla and I stood with tridents at the ready as the patrol went past.

  Try as they might, the demons couldn’t rouse their officers’ attention with the aura of protection I created around our Wards. I’d learned about auras as a Reaper and modified this one to fit my purposes.

  “Hide in the shadows, kleine Mädchen,” snarled one demon.

  “We’ll get you on the next pass,” growled the other.

  Soon, they were around a corner.

  “It’s safe,” I said.

  “It’s safe.” Chana tugged her mother along the street.

  But the air changed yet again. The thinning of fate I’d felt earlier frayed a little more.

  “What is that?” I looked around, searching for another patrol.

  “You’re feeling it again?” Zaponsla’s arm was extended as though she could fend off whatever unseen attackers were coming for us.

  “I never stopped feeling it. And yes, it’s changed. Worsened.”

  Chana and Bernadette huddled in the darkness on a decaying brick staircase that led into an empty—I checked—basement of an abandoned building. The last time I’d been this terrified was when Voctic had attacked me in the Comfort Ward. The feeling washed over me in a familiar, freezing blanket as though no time had passed.

  Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and I didn’t know what—or where the feeling was coming from—which frightened me even more.

  A utility vehicle with swastikas emblazoned on every side and the word “FORD” prominently displayed on the front bumper drove down the empty street. Great puffs of smoke rose from the symbols as it bumped along. Inside were two humans, one driving and one riding.

  No angels rode with them.

  No demons rode with them.

  The Gestapo pulled up to the building, and our Wards shrank farther into the darkness. I grabbed Zaponsla and yanked her next to them. I didn’t know who the new arrivals were, but I didn’t want to give our Wards away if they could somehow see us.

  As we retreated, Bernadette bumped against the door and pressed her lips together in a thin line. Her terror was as palpable as mine, and I wanted to comfort her.

  But first I needed to figure out what was happening—and prevent whatever it was.

  CHAPTER 27

  The driver swung the door open and hopped out with easily swinging limbs. A picture of Aryan perfection, he was smiling and humming to himself. The passenger, uglier, with duller hair and lighter eyes, got out slower, more jerkily, and came around to the front of the car where the first Nazi lit a cigarette.

  “I can feel them here.” The driver’s blond hair shone golden in a street lamp. He lit a second cigarette off his first and passed it to his cohort.

  Bernadette groped silently along the door, looking for a handle. When she found it, she took a deep but silent breath and turned. We both expected it to be locked, so when it twisted, she let out the smallest breath and tapped her daughter on the arm.

  Ever so slowly, she turned the handle centimeter by centimeter. It squeaked only once, too quiet for the men smoking at the car to hear. But she stopped, waited, and finally started up again.

  The cigarettes were nearly ash by the time she had the handle turned. The door swung open and our Wards crept backward.

  Inside was pitch black. Bernadette rubbed a hand along Chana’s arm, guiding her against the wall. Except for dirt and spiders, the room was empty. The girl tiptoed along the cold basement wall toward the back corner. Zaponsla and I followed.

  Through the building, I saw the driver looking to the left and then to the right. He threw his head back and inhaled a long breath. Bernadette pushed on the door slowly, ever so slowly. The already meager sliver of light waned. Just as the door was about to shut, the sweat coating her hands slipped over the wood, and it clicked.

  In a flash, the driver’s features changed from the perfect Aryan to the familiar face of—

  Osubatz.

  No, no, no…

  Bernadette ran to her daughter, caught her in her arms, and pulled her into an embrace.

  “I can smell you, silly angel,” said Osubatz. “And your delicious family, cowering down there.” He touched his partner’s arm and started toward the alley.

  His features resolved back to the German man he was possessing.

  “What are we going to do?” Zaponsla glowed faintly in the dark.

  “They can’t take her.” I called my trident and gripped it. “We’re going to fight.”

  “But how?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Human possession was dangerous and difficult to combat. We’d been trained on how best to oust a demon from a human, but that required time and patience. Usually, a person possessed had invited the demon into its body—exactly the reason I couldn’t reach back into Adolf’s mind with Kaspen possessing him.

  This German, whoever he was—

  “I am Colonel Franz,” said Osubatz, tromping down the steps. “Please come quietly and without a fuss.”

  —had chosen to give himself to this creature.

  Bernadette, shaking, and Chana, gripping her Star of David through her shirt, cowered against the wall. The ceiling was low, the floorboards above them rotted with age. The building was crumbling around them, and dirt smeared across their clothes as they hid. All this I could see because I was an angel.

  But all my Wards knew was that they were trapped in darkness and trembling with fear for their lives.

  The handle turned. The door swung open. Osubatz-Franz stood in the doorway. He clicked on a flashlight and swept it across the room.

  Bernadette squeaked when the beam landed on the pair.

  “No!” shouted Zaponsla.

  She slammed the trident into Franz’s stomach. It passed right through, catching the companion in the jaw—but also to no effect. The man stood on the steps, eyes vacant.

  Zaponsla whirled and caught herself with a flick of her wing. “You—you—”

  I leapt in between Franz and my Wards. “Leave them alone, Osubatz.”

  “Ah, here they are.” He walked through my body, and a freezing chill passed through me.

  “No! Leave us be!” said Bernadette.

  Franz reached down and grabbed her. When she tried to squirm away, he pinched the nerve under her arm. Joints stiff, the second Nazi grabbed hold of Chana, wrestling her away from her mother. Though tears streamed down her face, Bernadette fought as Zaponsla and I stood helpless.

  “Let them go,” I said. “They’re not yours.”

  Franz chuckled as he dragged a writhing, shrieking Bernadette from the room.

  “You’re not even helping Asorat,” I said. “They’re important to the war. Find someone else. Please! Just leave them alone!”

  At the door, Osubatz-Franz stopped. He met my eyes for the first time. Before, I wasn’t even sure if he could see me. “No, I think I will not. You stole this one from me before, and I’m taking what’s rightfully mine. I like her, and I will use her to explore what love is.”

  He wanted Bernadette, not Chana. Desperately, I said, “Leave the girl to us, then!” I hated myself for it, but Heaven needed its Cornerstone.

  “And how will I control the mother without the daughter?” He threw Bernadette over his shoulder and dragged her to the truck, his dead-eyed partner hauling a kicking and biting Chana behind him. When our little Cornerstone caught him in the eye with a fist, Bernadette shouted, “No, my darling, stop struggling or—”

  The other man punched Chana in the stomach.

  “No!” Fury raged through me. This was my Chana, my little Chana whom I’d raised since birth, who loved me and trusted that I would protect her. Decree from the Source or not, I wasn�
��t going to let this demon hurt her. I might not be able to stop Osubatz, but I could kill his human and take his soul. And with no human soul, the demon would have no way to keep using his body.

  I called up a weapon and—

  “Enael, no!” shouted Zaponsla. “You can’t. It will do no good!”

  My hand, holding a replica of the knife I’d used to kill Voctic, hovered in midair.

  “Put it down,” she pleaded. “Wait for an opportunity. We’ll stop this.”

  I wasn’t so sure. But swallowing down my revulsion and rage, I made the knife disappear.

  The Nazis threw our Wards into the back of the vehicle. Chana was still and silent the rest of the ride to the concentration camp. Zaponsla and I rode in the back with them. She rubbed a hand over Bernadette’s back, and I rubbed a hand over Chana’s.

  Neither of our humans were comforted. Osubatz-Franz kept darting a tongue from his mouth to lick his lips. Their fear must have been delicious.

  What if Kaspen is right? What if the ends do justify the means? Why did we have to follow the orders of the Source, when those we were fighting didn’t? It put us at a disadvantage—a grave one.

  With the fate of Heaven hanging in the balance, I wasn’t sure I should continue following the rules.

  As they stopped at the gates for a security check, Franz turned around in his seat to stare at Bernadette. “You are so beautiful. We are going to have so much fun in my playground. Just wait until I show you what’s here.”

  CHAPTER 28

  The concentration camp was as horrifying as I had imagined it would be. The Gestapo strode from building to building, swaggering with shoulders thrown back. A few Guardians trailed behind, their eyes sunken and frowns etched on their faces. A row of manacled Jews—all women—shuffled beside the poorly constructed buildings. Their Guardians looked even worse. If they weren’t allowed to return to Heaven soon, I was worried some of them might collapse.

  When the truck stopped, the dead-eyed partner ripped Chana from her mother.

  “Go with her,” said Zaponsla. “I’ll watch over Bernadette.” She pressed her hand briefly to mine. Helplessly, I watched as Franz hauled Bernadette, kicking and screaming, in the opposite direction, Zaponsla clenching her fists as she followed.

  The dead-eyed Nazi tugged Chana along at a pace too fast for her. She tripped, and he dragged her before she regained her footing and marched.

  Her terror was a beacon in the sea of fear assaulting me from all sides. I closed down my Nephil ability to receive emotion from the other humans. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to function.

  We proceeded past row upon row of barracks—if they could be called that. Inside, women were packed in tightly, clinging to one another, weeping, or staring silently at the wall. As we passed, a Guardian cradled the head of his Ward in his lap. With tears in his eyes, he stared up at me. “Help me, Nephil,” he mouthed.

  I hung my head. I’d never felt more powerless.

  We came to a building, still run-down, but brightly lit and with swastikas painted next to the door. Inside were several officers, one cleaning his gun, one shining his shoes, one snoozing across two chairs. They all looked up as we passed through.

  “No one is to touch this girl,” I announced to a group of demons lounging in the corner.

  “Oh, of course not,” said one. The group elbowed one another and grinned. “No one touches Colonel Franz’s things.”

  The room we arrived at was sparse and small, with a bunk and tiny table taking up three-quarters of the space. A second, locked door led into a larger, undecorated room that looked to belong to the head of the camp—Franz.

  My throat tightened.

  The Nazi set Chana on the bed and knelt. “You will stay here and wait for Franz. You will not cause trouble. Yes?”

  She nodded.

  “What is he going to do to her?” I didn’t know if this man was also being possessed, but I was desperate for any information.

  He rose. “You will get food and water later, but only if you’re a good girl. Don’t make a sound. Stay here and wait.”

  He exited without locking the door, which chilled me even more.

  Chana burst into silent tears.

  I touched her shirt where the Star of David lay. “I’m here, Chana.”

  But her tears didn’t abate. She buried her head in Franz’s pillow and wept and wept and wept.

  “My dear Chana. My dear, sweet Chana. It’ll be all right.” I didn’t know—didn’t truly believe—that to be true. Perhaps that was why Chana sobbed harder.

  “Mama,” she whispered. “I want Mama.”

  And so I did the only thing I could. I laid down on the bed next to her, wrapped my wings around her, and held her while she cried.

  Franz arrived just before sunup with soup and bread. Chana had fallen asleep sucking her thumb, something she’d not done in years. I was worried for Bernadette, but if anything had happened to her, Zaponsla would have come to me. Now that she’d been separated from her daughter, perhaps it would be kinder if Bernadette didn’t survive in this place long. We needed to keep Chana alive somehow and find a way for her to escape.

  But how? She couldn’t sneak from the room, or the Nazis outside would stop her. The door to Franz’s room was locked, or she could have gotten out through a window in there. I would have to be vigilant and bide my time. Once I got her out of this building, I would figure out how to sneak her through the camp undetected.

  Franz shook her awake gently. She sucked in a breath and scrubbed at her eyes. When she saw who it was, tears rose afresh.

  “Don’t cry, little treasure,” he said. “I won’t hurt you if you cooperate. Please, have some food.”

  Chana looked at him warily. I wanted to counsel against her eating whatever it was, but she needed to keep up her strength if we were to do the impossible. “Eat, Chana.”

  She took the plate and dug in, stuffing the food in her mouth as though she were starving—which she was. Food had become scarce for everyone, and for Jews hiding from Nazis, even scarcer.

  Franz watched her with gleaming eyes. I could almost see the black depths shifting behind them, but decided it was a trick of the light. Osubatz could see and hear me, I was certain. I decided to try persuasion.

  I sat down on the bed next to my Ward.

  “Listen to me, Osubatz. You do not want to hurt this little girl. She’s important to Heaven, and if you get in our way, you won’t be able to continue what you’re doing. You like playing here with people’s lives,” the idea revolted me, but I swallowed it down and continued, “and this has attracted the attention of the Seraphim. They won’t let you get away with it.”

  Franz trembled, and Osubatz stepped out of his body. The man crouching next to the bed fell forward, caught himself, and blinked. His eyes landed on Chana, and a lascivious smile spread across his face.

  “No, pet.” Osubatz twisted a head from side to side. “She’s not for you.”

  Franz frowned.

  “Now,” Osubatz addressed me, “we have something to discuss.”

  I stood. He was a diminutive demon, much shorter than average, which should have made me realize what he was earlier. But it didn’t matter before, it only mattered now—now that he’d taken an interest in my Wards. Despite how I towered over him, he didn’t cringe away, only stared up at me with head tipped back.

  “You seem reasonable,” I lied. “You know what will happen if the Seraphim get wind of this.”

  “I don’t, actually,” he said. “I know very little of Heaven, only that it interferes in my fun. Although I’ve heard that we have them to thank for this wonderful playground, which I adore.”

  That infuriated me. Heaven was most definitely not responsible for this. But I wasn’t going to argue with this little puff of evil. “Yes, well, they have a stake in seeing this little girl freed. If you help me get her out of here, there could be a reward.”

  He turned his head to the side, eyes bulging. “A r
eward?”

  “Yes, whatever you like.” What would a Fearling-turned-demon want? I would promise it to him, and the Seraphim could see to it that he was taken care of. One way or another.

  He turned his head to the other side. His movements were so exaggerated and strange, like caricatures of a real being. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Oh, yes, souls to play with, maybe.” Now I was making things up. “The Source creates them all the time. Maybe if you let me get Chana out of here, we’ll give you some to play with.” I couldn’t stop to think of the terrible thing I was offering—and I was most certain the Seraphim would never agree to it. But I had to be convincing.

  He twisted his head again. He looked at Chana. His eyes shifted sideways, and I looked in that direction. A familiar flash of cobalt—Zaponsla’s wings!—gleamed through the wall. That must be where he was keeping Bernadette. I’d seen no other Nephilim since joining the camp. They were assigned to fight on military fronts.

  “No, I don’t think so. I like the Older One. She is very fond of this one. I haven’t been able to get results like this in the others. I mention her daughter and she practically falls at my feet, telling me she’ll do whatever I want.” He leered up at me, and his grin turned to clicking mandibles before resolving back to a more human façade.

  “Don’t you understand? They’re going to punish you. They’re not going to let you get away with this. You’ll be—”

  Osubatz stepped forward and disappeared into Franz’s body.

  “—thrown into Hell and locked into a cage for all eternity!”

  He must have known my threats were empty because Osubatz-Franz stood, patted Chana on the head, and turned heel to march from the room.

  “I’ll be back later.” He closed the door and, this time, locked it.

  CHAPTER 29

  Osubatz kept Chana in the tiny room, feeding her and emptying the chamber pot three times a day. He never even opened the door to Franz’s bedroom, let alone left it unlocked. There were always at least two Nazis in the room outside her door, and usually a whole group.

  Chana spent most of her time staring at the wall and dreaming of a life beyond this one, where she was an important person who spoke against all of Adolf’s atrocities and roused her people to rise up against him, just as the Engineers had planned for her.