“A laugh.”
The older cop shot the younger one a sceptical look. “No. Now knock off the fuckin’ alien talk. You’re spooking yourself.”
“I swear I heard something! It sounded like a woman, laughing.”
Both cops stared at each other, looking acutely uncomfortable. Then the older one scowled. “Fuckin’ stupid alien talk. Sure, you go ahead and write that up and see how it works for you. Me, I want to put in the rest of my ten years and retire with full benefits. I’m going with ‘cause: undetermined’.”
“You think blaming it on the Hodag would work better?” the younger cop asked, grinning.
The older cop rolled his eyes and turned away, just as Ahadiel tugged on her hand. He motioned his head upwards. She nodded, releasing her wings. Still holding hands, they flew to the roof of the Walmart. The earlier footprints they’d left behind had been wiped away by four inches of new snow and drifts.
“What made you laugh?” he asked, pitching his voice low enough that only she would hear.
“I’ll explain later. Are you picking up any imprints?”
“Yes.” He turned slightly, raising his head. He might have been scenting the air, but more than likely he was sifting the Spark for any impression of the kerubim. Visual, auditory . . . anything that could be relayed through the senses of human, animal, bird or insect.
Several minutes passed, then he abruptly stiffened, and let out a breath. “We’re too late. They’ve been destroyed.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” Humans imagined kerubim as terrifying monsters, part human, part lion and part eagle. But to a celestial, they were the equivalent of house pets. “There was no reason to kill them.”
“Remember who we’re dealing with,” Ahadiel said, flatly.
“Can you take me to the bodies? Maybe there’s something we can pick up that’ll help us find Helel and the others.”
“I don’t think they’ve left. We already know where they’re headed, so if their plan was to stop us, they’ll do it here.”
“We’re back to walking into an ambush, then?”
Ahadiel shrugged. “Yes.”
“This doesn’t bother you?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.” She wished she had even a smidgen of his strength – and confidence.
He squeezed her hand again, and Prima turned as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. Briefly, she considered how nice it would be to have a do-over; to go back to the substation, back to his arms, back to making a different choice that might not end . . . badly.
But that wasn’t possible; even if it had been, it would be the coward’s way out, and the stakes were too high for her to retreat into wishful fantasies. For better or for worse, by accident or by design, she and Ahadiel were a team.
“Stay close to me. If there’s any chance of trouble and I think I can’t handle it, I’ll get you out of there fast.”
Wonderful. Jumping interstices was better than dying, of course, but she didn’t have to be enthusiastic about it.
A sudden thought occurred to her. “Wait. Ahadiel, if something goes wrong and you have to choose between me or stopping Helel and the others, I want you to promise me you’ll stop them.”
“Nothing like that is going to happen.”
“I know you’ll do everything in your power to protect me, just as I’ll do everything I can to stay alive. But stopping a war is more important.” She met his gaze. “Promise me.”
“No.”
Before she could argue, his wings flashed, at full strength and breadth, and he shot into the sky. She followed a moment later, hard pressed to match his speed, but furious enough to try.
Below, one of the cops glanced up, thinking he’d seen something move along the roof. But there was nothing to see, only a mass of grey, sullen clouds that threatened to dump another couple of inches of snow before the day’s end.
Ahadiel led her to a small clearing surrounded by dense forest of mixed pine and hardwoods, deep in the heart of Wisconsin’s North Woods. It had taken only a few minutes, at her speed, and as they touched down, it began to snow.
Prima found the remains of the two kerubim almost immediately, and went to them as Ahadiel kept watch.
It was quiet, unnaturally so, and she could feel her hands shaking as she knelt over the two dark, ashy stains in the snow. Wind, and more snow, would soon eliminate every last trace. Whatever Spark they’d had, it was gone.
Yet, she sensed something else: unfamiliar, but definitely something that did not naturally belong to this place.
She backed away, glancing at Ahadiel. “The compulsion spell didn’t leave much of a residue. It’s so quiet, and I’m feeling like there’s—”
“Come to me,” Ahadiel interrupted, tightly. “Now.”
She wasted no time in doing exactly as he’d ordered. Her mouth had gone dry again. “What?”
“We’re not alone. Something’s here, but I can’t see it.”
Of course. You couldn’t throw an ambush party without both the ambushees and the ambusher. To her surprise, she wasn’t as frightened as she’d expected. Maybe because they’d anticipated a trap. Or maybe because she was just in shock and denial.
“A cloaking charm? I’d sense it, even a small one.”
He didn’t answer. The strange silence continued, surrounding them . . . and it seemed to have intensified. Now, she couldn’t even hear the wind in the trees.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” she whispered. “I’m putting you in danger.”
“We go up,” Ahadiel said. “Stay at my back. Take my hand, and let me drive.”
Another little attempt at humour – another first for him. The other times she’d watched him engaged in a fight, he’d been absolutely silent from start to finish.
Prima boosted her wings as much as she could, but their silvery-grey luminance was nothing compared to the fiery breadth of Ahadiel’s. She took his hand, gripping it tightly. “Actually, I’m quite happy to let you drive.”
“Ready?” When she nodded, he flew upwards at blinding speed.
She did not.
Before his hand whipped out and beyond her, she knew what had happened. It was a binding spell.
For a moment, she recognized the irony of it – and then panic hit, full-bore. Ahadiel was already on the return, and she opened her mouth to warn him off when something wrapped itself tightly around her neck and dragged her, struggling and choking for air, up into the thick branches of the old oak behind her. Smaller, sharper branches broke off, gouging her, others slapped against her, dead leaves scouring at her skin. Then, abruptly, she came to a stop, dangling high off the ground. She dug at the thing around her neck, struggling to loosen it, as Ahadiel dropped down out of the sky, claws black and extended, their tips burning white.
For a split second, their eyes met, and then he was gone, knocked aside by another angel.
She couldn’t turn enough to see what was happening, but the sound had returned, and over her own harsh gasps, she heard the deafening crack of tree trunks shattering under impacts, the shake and rumble of the earth as massive trees crashed to the ground,
Finally, the thing around her neck loosened a fraction, and Prima sucked in air, looking upwards. A face – its bone-white skin surrounded by long black hair tossing, serpent-like, in the wind – smiled down at her. The smile did not, however, reach the black, red-flecked eyes.
Helel.
What was wrapped around her neck, Prima realized with revulsion, was a hank of Helel’s hair. The fallen angel’s wings flared upwards, alert, but they were dark, looking more like the tattered remains of an old ball gown that had lost most of its sparkling sequins than a once glorious lattice of power and light.
“Hello,” said the Fallen. “My, my . . . what a pretty Peri you are. Your mother and father must be very proud.”
Prima again tried to pull away, to find Ahadiel. The sounds of a vicious fight were unmistakable: shouts and grunts of pain, the whistling slash of
Ahadiel’s claws, and more shaking and rumbling as uprooted trees, decades old, slammed into the earth.
Then something exploded; the blast buffeted her wildly about in a stinging shower of wood splinters.
A man laughed, and Prima looked down, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes. A handsome angel stood below her, grinning. He wore jeans, a checkered flannel shirt and hiking boots, and he had all of Helel’s colouring, right down to the dulled, shadow-black wings.
“That one looks ripe for the picking.”
“The Peri’s mine, Maroth,” Helel said, in a girlish voice. “You go help your brother get rid of Azrael’s dog.”
A scream ripped through the air, a bellow of pain and rage that raised the hackles and filled Prima with such terror she thought for certain her heart would stop beating.
Maroth took wing, calling his brother’s name, and Helel, looking perturbed, slowly reeled Prima upwards with her hair noose. Prima fought to stay conscious, even as the edges of her vision rapidly darkened and blurred.
Summoning the last of her strength, Prima grabbed at the nearest branch, then swung her body upwards and slammed her feet into Helel’s face.
The angel staggered, knocked off balance, but only for a moment. The hair squeezed around Prima’s neck, strangling her, while Helel, sneering and bleeding, watched.
“I forgot.” Helel’s voice sounded as if it came from a great distance. The earth shuddered, as something crashed close behind her, but Prima, rapidly losing consciousness, barely felt it. “You’re almost one of them, so you fight like them. Like a dirty little animal.”
Angry and desperate, Prima made a weak grab for the rope of hair above her, just as a blue-white flash, arcing downwards, cut her free.
She fell, struggling for air, into a pair of arms. Wings of pure light surrounded her, and she looked up into Ahadiel’s face: bloodied, a raw gash from temple to jaw, his mouth set in a grim line.
Again, their eyes met, briefly, before he touched down, shoving her behind his back.
“A binding,” she rasped, barely able to get the words out of her raw, swollen throat. “I can’t leave.”
“I know.”
Another quick glance around. Helel was nowhere in sight, but Maroth and Harut were on either side of them, closing in. The latter was missing his right arm.
“I told you to go without me,” she said, in a harsh whisper.
“And I told you no.”
“Then we both die for nothing! You can’t—” She broke off, with a strangled scream, as Helel suddenly materialized before her.
At her scream, Ahadiel spun, claws slashing, but it was too late. Helel had already moved out of range, her claws against Prima’s neck. Ahadiel’s eyes darted to Harut and Maroth, then back to Helel.
“Oh, you can probably kill us all,” Helel said. “But not before I take off her head. And if you do manage to kill us, you’ll never find Raguel. At least, not in time to do any good. Is that something you can live with?”
“I can live with it.” As Ahadiel gathered his muscles to attack, his gaze flicked towards Prima. “And my brother would be able to live with it too.”
He’d made his choice; a good choice, if not the one she’d hoped for. Prima closed her eyes, not wanting Helel to be the last thing she saw. At the same moment a tremendous, crackling boom of an explosion knocked her back.
A column of fire shot upwards, then quickly faded. On her hands and knees, Prima scrambled towards the cover of a fallen tree, staring up at the figure standing between her and Helel. A long, dark red coat, shadow-black wings, and then a rumbling, familiar voice: “You dare lay a hand on my daughter, you bitch?”
Her father?
Another quick glance showed Harut and Maroth backing away from an equally familiar, black-robed figure in front of them. Behind her, Ahadiel was still poised to attack, ready to kill anything and everything in his way.
“Arioch and Alussa. I failed to factor you into our plans. How embarrassing,” Helel said, a trace of anger edging the amusement in her voice.
With that, she disappeared, taking Harut and Maroth with her. Once they were gone, Prima felt a light tingling, and then the sense of a thick weight lifting. The binding spell was broken, leaving her alone with her mother, her father and an Angel of Punishment on the verge of going Berserker.
“Ahadiel, it’s OK. They’re here to help. Take it down a notch or two, please.”
He stared hard at her, unblinking, as if he hadn’t heard her. A violent shudder took him, leaving him visibly shaking as he straightened, and then dropped his arms to his sides. The claws retracted, dripping blood, and his wings faded to a shimmer before disappearing.
Prima heaved a sigh of relief, still trying to process this astonishing turn of events. Everything had happened so fast, and she had to resist the urge to squeeze her eyes open and shut a few times, just to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
“Mother, Father . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Hello would be sufficient.”
“So would thank you,” said her mother, giving Ahadiel a wide berth as she came towards Prima. “And just so we’re clear on this, we’re not here to help. Not me, anyway. I couldn’t care less if this wretched place burns to ashes. But no one,” she said, fiercely, as she cradled Prima’s scratched, bleeding face in her hands, “absolutely no one, harms my precious child.”
“I’m OK. You got here in time.”
“Next time, we might not,” her father said. “You should have come to us for help.”
“I would have, if it had been possible.” She caught Ahadiel’s gaze. “Are you all right?”
He hadn’t made any attempt to join her or her parents, and his only response to her question was a terse nod.
Her father, scowling, pushed past her and faced Ahadiel. “You. What are your intentions towards my daughter?”
For the first time in probably his entire existence, Ahadiel was at a loss for words. Finally, he said, “None. I have none.”
“That’s good,” said her father, nodding.
“Make sure you keep it that way,” added her mother.
This was a thousand kinds of awkward – and no way was she making it even worse by starting an argument. Ahadiel had the good sense to keep his mouth shut as well.
Her mother kissed Prima on the cheek, then joined her husband. “Sarim,” she said, addressing Ahadiel by his formal title of “Prince”. “Because I appreciate the concern you’ve shown for my child, I offer you this information. Do with it as you will. Your brother is still alive, but you’ll need to travel deep into the territories of Hell to find him. He is not here in this place.”
“Thank you,” Ahadiel said, quietly.
“And for my thanks, Sarim, I give you this.” Her father pulled a shotgun from inside his coat, and tossed it to Ahadiel, who caught it with a faint look of surprise.
“I am honoured, but I have no need of weapons.”
“Maybe, but you’ll make good use of these. Prima can explain.” A box of shells followed the shotgun, which Ahadiel also caught, one-handed. Then her father turned to Prima and said, “Keep safe.”
Together, her parents took to the sky, vanishing almost instantly. After a moment, Ahadiel came up beside her, shotgun and shells in one hand. His gaze took in her dishevelled hair, ripped clothing and scratched face. With his free hand, he brushed back her hair and lightly touched her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what? You did exactly as you promised. You win some; you lose some. I guess you’ll be sticking around for a while longer, then.”
He nodded, stepping back. He frowned at the shotgun. “So those were your parents: Arioch and Alussa.”
“Mmm-hmm. I think Dad kind of likes you. You’re both in the same line of business, sort of.”
“Your father works for a vengeance demon.”
“I said, ‘sort of.” She took a shell from the box. “Mother, on the other hand, doesn’t like
men very much. Except for my father. The strong and silent routine would be best around her.”
She rolled the shotgun shell between her thumb and forefinger then held it up, smiling. “A magic bullet.”
Ahadiel took it back. “A whole box of magic bullets, to be precise. But for what?”
“I have no idea. Dad has good intentions, but his follow-through can be a bit shoddy. I suppose we’ll just have to shoot things and see what happens.” With all the excitement over – for now – she longed for a hot bath and a long nap, but she didn’t think there’d be much time for that for a long while yet. “So . . . what are you going to do?”
“Good question.” Ahadiel gave a loud sigh. “It seems I have a choice. I go after Helel, Harut and Maroth, and try to stop them from starting another war. Or I go after my brother.”
“Azrael sent you here to find Raguel, and to stay until you found him. Perhaps Azrael doesn’t want you in the other fight.”
“The number of lives in the balance . . . I don’t know that I can turn from that. If my brother were here, I believe he would agree.”
Prima took his hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze. “An interesting thing about choices is how you can sometimes choose more than one.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.”
“I thought so.” After a quick survey of their surroundings she said, “I don’t think we’re too far from my place, and if you’ll be here for a while, you’re going to need a place to stay.”
He smiled. “True.”
“You can stay with me if you’d like. Here, or wherever we end up.”
“I’d like that, thank you. I’ll be sleeping on the couch, though.”
It was her turn to smile. “But of course you will.”
“Have a little faith in me. Halfway, yes. All the way? We’ll see.”
With a laugh, Prima took to the sky. A moment later, Ahadiel followed.
Dark Force
A Black Ops novella
Cheyenne McCray
One
“You’re not leaving me behind.” Jaymie Taylor scowled at the big man as he glared at her with a look so dark he might as well have been a storm-shrouded mountain. Her cheeks burned as her anger rose. “I’m part of this team and you will not leave me behind.”
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