Forsaken Angel

by J F Cain

  What future did the Sovereign Power have in store for the fruit of the love between two Angels? Would it be a new messiah that would guide the earthly race toward its awakening? Or would the fact that it was conceived in wholly physical form, combined with the temperament of one of its parents, make it a deterrent to growth?

  Anything was possible. And no one, not even Aranes, could predict Its will.

  CHAPTER 12

  A tense silence hovered in the Dark Lord’s chamber. As he stood across from Asmodeus, the expression on his face betrayed his effort to contain his rage. The Archdemon felt his master’s burning gaze pierce him like a hot poker. Asmodeus had known why he was angry from the moment he had been summoned. He had attempted to keep the incident with the Archivist from reaching his ears, but in Eregkal that was impossible. So, the only thing he had been able to do was to prepare to face the dark kingdom’s lord, since the insult had also been aimed at him. However, despite all his preparation, he could barely keep his fear in check as he faced his enraged master.

  “How would you deal with a subject who acted against your interests?” Lucifer asked, breaking the silence.

  They both knew the answer to that. A disobedient subject had to be wiped out, unless he was irreplaceable for some reason, in which case his punishment would be postponed indefinitely. That is what Asmodeus was placing his hopes in.

  “My master …” he began apologetically.

  “How would you deal with him?” Lucifer shouted.

  “I would punish him,” Asmodeus was forced to admit. “But I would give him the chance to explain his actions,” he added hurriedly.

  “I didn’t know you had such a highly developed sense of justice,” Lucifer said, arching his eyebrows mockingly.

  “Sometimes things aren’t as they seem,” Asmodeus explained in as steady a voice as he could manage. “I don’t think we should condemn someone before we hear them out.”

  Lucifer would have really liked to slap him for his insolence, but he held himself in check.

  “I’m curious to hear your reasoning behind such an idiotic move,” he said without changing his furious expression, even though he could see that he had succeeded in terrifying the Archdemon.

  “My intention was to establish a new world order,” Asmodeus replied. “The Celestials are in shambles. Aranes’ replacement is weak. Since I defeated her and no reinforcements were sent, I believed that I wouldn’t meet with any more resistance. I never imagined that the Archivist himself would intervene. Never mind enter our dimension to claim a handful of souls. I admit that I misjudged the situation. I apologize,” he concluded, looking remorseful.

  Lucifer knew that Asmodeus was smart enough not to lie to him. But he had made the mistake of calling Aranes by her name, and that incensed him even more.

  How dare the pariah consider himself in the same class as her? he thought as he approached him like a snake ready to strike. “Do you think it’s your responsibility to take the initiative to change the established order?” he hissed through his teeth.

  The Archdemon lowered his head, not in shame as he wanted to appear to be, but to avoid his master’s eyes.

  “It won’t happen again,” he promised, his voice carrying a hefty dose of fear.

  The Lord of Darkness regarded him silently. He wanted to make his idiotic subject feel how small he was when compared to his own irrefutable power. That was going to be his punishment for now.

  “Are you loyal to me?” he asked when he felt he had tortured him enough.

  Asmodeus looked up in surprise.

  “Master, you know very well that I am.”

  “Why does my question surprise you?” Lucifer asked. “What would you think if you were in my place?”

  “I understand your reasoning, but never doubt that I serve only you,” Asmodeus declared fervently.

  “So you didn’t act for your own benefit.”

  The Archdemon pinned his eyes on his master’s red gaze, in an effort to convince him of his sincerity.

  “No,” he said sharply.

  He’s a much better liar than the others, Lucifer noted to himself. He turned his back to Asmodeus to hide his disgust and with his hands clasped behind his back he began to pace, pretending to be considering the matter. “I gave you the most powerful position after mine in Eregkal,” he said harshly. “I helped you and protected you from your enemies. So, I wonder, if you, who claim to be loyal to me, defy me, then what can I expect from the would-be usurpers?”

  The Dark Lord’s calmness frightened Asmodeus. The infernal realm’s leader was unpredictable. From one moment to the next he could find himself hanging from one hand and engulfed in flames that would extinguish his existence. But even if his withdrawal was temporary, the prospect terrified him.

  “Master, I am grateful. I have never forgotten your support and I want to pay you back for all you have done for me. This is why I’ve been trying to increase your power. Unfortunately, this time I misjudged. I promise that it won’t happen again,” he said, his voice pleading.

  Lucifer seemed to be considering whether to forgive him or not. A moment later, he turned and approached him, his expression ominous.

  “The next time you are the cause of one of them coming here, I will send you back to the Source with them,” he said coldly. “But I assume you’d prefer to enter Elether as a conqueror,” he added to entice the Demon and ensure his support.

  The Archdemon’s eyes glowed at the prospect.

  “You’re right, as always,” he agreed promptly.

  “I don’t doubt it. So make sure you don’t make another mistake.”

  “You can be sure of that,” Asmodeus assured him.

  Lucifer flicked his head in the direction of the door.

  “You can go.”

  The Archdemon bowed and left, following the corridor with the serpent tripods, liberated from the threat of annihilation and feeling pleased with himself.

  Every cloud has a silver lining, he thought to himself, smiling slyly. The Archivist may have humiliated him, but the incident had given him the chance to see how much Lucifer needed him. The Lord of Eregkal was depending on his power and skill to invade Elether. At last, he had made the decision to take the big step again. That was fantastic.

  The greedy Archdemon’s smile widened at the thought of the benefits he would gain when they conquered the celestial kingdom. Only one thing was spoiling his mood—he didn’t know who had ratted him out. Estaria and Xeniel wouldn’t dare, and the lower Demons who had been present would never presume to ask for an audience with the leader of Eregkal. Which meant that the news had leaked and one of the higher entities had let Lucifer know. Who did he have to thank for this? He really wanted to find out so that he could return the favor.

  Behind him. the Dark Lord was looking at him with hatred and revulsion. Once he had walked through the iron door, Lucifer sat down in his red armchair and did his own accounting of the situation.

  Asmodeus had been frightened enough that he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make a different one. He wanted to increase his power and wasn’t clever enough to do it without provoking a reaction from the Celestials. I hope the idiot has learned his lesson and isn’t going to cause another problem until I’ve finished my plan. After that, I’ll wipe him out and take his power.

  Lucifer had never forgotten the humiliation he had suffered at the Celestials’ hands inside his very own kingdom and planned to put them in the same position. The thing that was going to happen that night on Earth would bring him decisively closer to his aim.

  He conjured his screen and inside the dense energy he saws Aranes and Abaddon seated at a table in an expensive restaurant.

  Dressed in a dark suit and tie, Abaddon was sitting with his elbows resting on the table and his fingers interlaced in front of his mouth. He was looking around with concealed unease. He had already checked the nature of the other diners and the establishment’s staff before e
ntering it. Still, he couldn’t relax. He was sure that his partner’s pursuers wouldn’t give up. The incident at the charity’s opening would somehow be repeated.

  “Please relax,” said Aranes, resting her hand tenderly on his arm.

  Abaddon unlaced his fingers and rested his hands on the table.

  “I must admit, I admire your confidence, even if I can’t understand where it comes from.”

  “I refuse to live in fear,” she replied. “Besides, we still have a lot to do. Get a hold of yourself, my love. You won’t be able to strike a good deal in the state you’re in.”

  The maître d' stopping in front of their table interrupted their discussion.

  “Forgive me for the interruption, Mr. Meyers,” he said politely. “But a gentleman is asking for you. He says it is urgent. He is waiting outside.”

  Abaddon lifted his head and looked at the middle-aged man curiously.

  “Did he mention his name?”

  His obvious omission made the maître d' ill at ease.

  “No sir, I’m sorry,” he said numbly.

  “Thank you,” Abaddon replied, unhappy with his oversight and, as the maître d' turned to leave, he used his ethereal vision to check the restaurant’s entrance. The two men standing there waiting seemed to be ordinary humans. He turned and looked at Aranes. “Any ideas?” he asked, his tone betraying his worry.

  She shrugged.

  “I assume it’s one of the Guardians. I saw one of their cars when we arrived.”

  “Or one of the Mayor’s people,” Abaddon added logically, since they were meeting the Mayor of New York to discuss the foundation of a new charity. He scanned the dining area and kitchens again but found no suspicious presence. “Everything seems fine, here.” He rose from his chair unwillingly and aimed his eyes at his partner. “I’ll go see what’s going on. Stay here, I won’t be long.”

  Aranes smiled at him reassuringly.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she replied and followed him with her gaze as he walked away, threading hurriedly through the tables.

  Just as the Dark Angel was stepping out of the restaurant’s lit entrance, two waiters came out of the kitchen. One of them had a white towel draped over his bent arm. He approached Aranes from the left and with professional flair he tugged the towel from his arm, wrapped it around the glass bottle filled with water that stood on the table, and filled her glass. His colleague approached from the right.

  “Is everything alright, madam?” he asked politely, drawing her attention.

  Aranes looked up at him and smiled.

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered kindly.

  As she was speaking, the other waiter put the bottle back on the table and discreetly shook the towel near her face, releasing invisible particles in the air. In the next breath that Aranes took, she breathed them in without noticing it. The waiters smiled politely and stepped away. They stood to the side and watched her, like vultures lying in wait for their prey. She had turned her attention to Abaddon. The maître d' had told him that the man who asked for him was no longer at the entrance and now he was standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, waiting impatiently for the cars pass so he could cross the road.

  From inside the black Land Rover parked across the street, Fares, the Thornton twins, and Diana were looking at him questioningly.

  “What’s going on?” Fares wondered out loud.

  Abaddon and the Guardians didn’t see Aranes back in the restaurant lean back in her seat so as not to put pressure on her internal organs and, keeping calm, take deep breaths. But for some unknown reason, the air wasn’t reaching her lungs.

  The second waiter glanced at the street outside the window and hurried to her side.

  “Are you alright, madam?’ he asked with feigned interest.

  “I can’t … breathe,” Aranes gasped.

  “Let me help you,” he offered.

  He gripped her by the arm and around her waist and pulled her up. As soon as Aranes felt his cold touch she knew it was a trap, but the lack of oxygen had drained her strength and she couldn’t put up any resistance. Certain that her partner would sense her condition and find her at once no matter where she was, she let her abductor practically carry her as he guided her among the tables and diners who were looking at them curiously. His accomplice followed them to the kitchen, casting uneasy glances at the road.

  Across the street, Fares lowered his window to speak to Abaddon, who was approaching the jeep.

  The incarnated Celestial sensed rather than realized from the Guardian’s expression that Aranes was in danger. He turned back anxiously to face the restaurant and searched for her with his supernatural vision. He spotted her in a hallway, at the back of the kitchen. She was staggering, ready to collapse, and was being held up by the waiters, who were tugging her roughly and hurriedly. One of them opened the iron door that let out into a dark alley behind the restaurant and they dragged her outside.

  “She’s at the back,” Abaddon called to Fares frantically and, because he couldn’t dematerialize in front of the passersby, he shot into the street.

  The oncoming car braked abruptly, its tires screeching on the asphalt. Before it could hit him, Abaddon took a flying leap over the hood and landed on the pavement. The driver of the car moving in the adjacent lane was stunned to see him suddenly land in front of him. He stamped on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the left to avoid him, but didn’t manage to avoid crashing into the other cars driving by. Abaddon crossed the road by jumping from one car hood or roof to another. Amid the noise of tires screeching and metal crunching as the cars that followed rear-ended the ones in front of them—thankfully at low speeds—he landed on the sidewalk on the corner of the restaurant and dashed into the side alley.

  With a squeal of spinning wheels, the Guardians’ jeep set off, passed the pileup, and followed him.

  Abaddon dashed to the back of the restaurant and came to an abrupt stop. In front of him stood twenty vampires. Some were poised on one knee on top of some dumpsters, ready to attack; others were suspended by their gripping claws from the walls of the neighboring buildings; and yet others were standing on the ground, dressed in dark black coats and holding swords. In their midst stood Vincent and behind him the two waiters were holding the now unconscious Aranes up. Vincent’s eyes blazed with hatred as soon as he saw Abaddon and the evil in his soul was mirrored in his face. All the vampires had pinned their repulsive gazes on the Dark Angel as if sizing him up. Their superior numbers might be giving them the advantage, but they didn’t know what they would be facing.

  The sound of a car engine and its lights getting stronger as it approached drew the vampires’ attention. The Guardians’ Land Rover turned the corner and braked abruptly behind Abaddon. Blinded by the jeep’s bright headlights, the vampires reflexively turned their heads to the side but then immediately looked forward again, growling and baring their long canines. Vincent didn’t react in the same way. He remained unfazed, his hate-filled eyes pinned on the Celestial.

  Abaddon dragged his uneasy gaze from Aranes and looked at Vincent, returning his hatred with the same intensity. He remembered that inexcusably arrogant creature. He had fought with him before he regained his angelic powers. The vampire had wounded his thighs badly and he had paid him back by cutting off his hand. From the bloodthirsty creature’s expression, he realized that Vincent hadn’t gotten over the loss and, besides all the other benefits he would gain by harming Aranes, he also wanted his revenge.

  “That was a big mistake,’ he told him, the harsh expression on his face warning the malevolent vampire that he would make him regret his audacity to touch his partner.

  Before he had finished speaking, his suit was replaced by his chainmail and gleaming gray cuirass, bulky pauldrons, leather pants tucked in his boots, and gloves with spikes on the finger joints. His translucent wings fanned out abruptly behind his back and his weapons appeared in his fists: two large swords of red fiery ether that emitted gray energy.r />
  The four Guardians jumped out of the car with their swords in their hands and arrayed themselves to the left and right of Abaddon. Still glaring at Vincent, the Dark Angel leaped into the air. The vampire lifted the sword Lucifer had given him and the blade attached to his wrist and crossed them in front of his head to fend off the attack, certain that the ethereal weapon would help him fight off the Celestial. At the same moment, the Guardians charged the other vampires who were standing near their leader.

  The Dark Angel landed in front of Vincent and his swords struck the crossed blades with force. The vampire felt his arms go numb from the pressure inflicted by powerful energy; he let out a pained cry and went down on one knee. Abaddon kicked him in the stomach with so much force that he was flung into the air. The vampire flew over the heads of his comrades who were holding Aranes up and landed a short distance away, on his feet but wounded by the sharp spikes on the Celestial’s boots. The two vampires shot a mocking glance at Abaddon, made a show of letting Aranes go, and moved away with supernatural speed. The Dark Angel was at her side in an instant and grabbed her before she could fall to the ground. He lifted her in his arms, moved her away from the fighting and rested her carefully against a wall.

  “Hold on, my love. I won’t be long,” he told her tenderly and lifted her chin.

  Seeing her unconscious and helpless, he stood up feeling even more infuriated. As soon as he turned, he saw Vincent charging him. He took a few steps forward to move the fight away from Aranes and met him head on. Filled with rage, he began to pummel him so hard that the vampire struggled to fend him off.

  A few feet away, the rest of the vampires had surrounded the Guardians. However, the theurgist warriors had vast experience in battling with supernatural beings. With their swords in one hand and the hyperdimensional gateways shooting ethereal fire from the other, they fought skillfully, keeping at bay their enemies, who outnumbered them. And one of them who dared to underestimate Diana because of her petite frame paid dearly for it.