Dark Wings

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Dark Wings Page 7

by Skyla Madi


  “Ashton, Violet.”

  “Form?” Her thin purple lips matched the short plum-colored curls that coiled around her ears. When I looked closer, I noticed that she was very color co-ordinated… in every way. The small purple diamonds that hung on a short gold chain from her ear lobes glistened in the bright white light. As she glanced downwards at her computer screen, I saw a faint amount of purple eye shadow, barely noticeable behind her thick black eyelashes. With two loud thuds, she stamped my form and handed it to me.

  “Tom should be here within the hour. Take a seat.” She hugged her mauve cardigan around her chest and I became conscious of the cold air in the room. For some reason, the air-conditioning was blasting. I sat down on one of the plastic chairs across from the reception desk, placing my form on the empty seat beside me. The room was grim, bare, and white from wall to wall. I found myself staring at Gladys, suddenly appreciating her extreme color choice. The various shades of purple she wore offered the only semblance of color—of happiness—against the brutal onslaught of white. Instantly I became bored. I focused harder on Gladys. I wanted to see her wings. I watched her for a few minutes, trying to remember how to see into her ‘inner angel.’ All I had to do was focus. After a few minutes, two big masses of energy floated behind Gladys. The miniscule lines of aura inside her wings were green, which meant organization. What you become in our society is determined by the color of the aura in your wings. Our wings are a mass of white energy, but if you look closely, little colors run through that mass of energy, like the veins in a human body. The color determines what you’ll do in our society. Before you awaken in the Never Dark, your wings begin to grow. They start off as tiny balls of light and by the end of your transition, they’re fully grown. Red means you’ll be recruited to fight, like me, or guard. Blue is intellect—you’ll end up as one of our scientists. Green means organization, which are our assistants and receptionists. And purple means you have the ability to travel, like a Veltra angel. Purple is quite rare; out of the twenty thousand angels in our society, we had only one hundred Veltra angels. There are a few more colors, but I just couldn’t seem to remember. I stopped focusing on Gladys and let her impressive wings dissolve into nothing. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a secure position. There was plenty of room to move about, but nowhere to get comfortable. The hour I had to wait suddenly seemed too long and keeping my eyes open quickly became difficult.

  ***

  I quiver as warm lips graze across my ribs and over my nipple. Teeth tug softly at my sensitive flesh before making their ascent to my ear lobe. His hands roam my body, exploring the rises and dips of my curves and I shudder as I run my fingers through short hair. His lips meet mine and a soft moan rumbles at the base of my throat. I can make out the sun-kissed color of his skin and dark hair. I tilt my head to get a better look at the room. We were in the hotel room he’d stayed in on my first visit to Earth. From what I could tell, the room was the same. A double bed adorned with the most comfortable comforter set, two dark oak bedside tables and one painting that hung above the head of the bed. The painting was of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Yep, exactly the same.

  He pulls back slightly and runs a soft, warm index finger down my cheek and traces my bottom lip. “Is everything okay?”

  I stare into his eyes. His voice is like warm honey, delicious and sickly sweet. How could everything not be okay? I know I should be disturbed by the erotic feelings that are engulfing me, but I am anything but. I don’t respond. Instead, I grab a fistful of his hair and pull his lips down to mine. The feel of his mouth breathes life into me and everything inside my body lights up like a Christmas tree. His lips leave mine and make their way over my left breast and down past my ribs. A tsunami of tingles floods my entire body, coursing through every one of my veins, exposing every nerve ending in my body. The feeling grows stronger the closer he gets to my panty line. I close my eyes and fight against the urge to thrash against the sweet agony of his lips. His index finger traces the edge of my lacy underwear as he plants soft kisses along the inside of my thighs. His eyes lock onto mine as he comes up to a kneeling position. Both of his strong hands reach up and pull on my underwear. I lift my hips slightly, allowing him to pull my panties off with ease. His gaze drops from mine down to my warm center.

  “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingertips grazing the skin over my thighs ever so gently.

  “Violet?”

  I swear I only shut my eyes for a second. Slowly, I come to and the sharp lines of the world returned. I met Tom’s azure eyes and short blond hair that was styled into a sharp point. I felt a flush roll through me. How embarrassing.

  “Was I sleeping?” I groaned, running my hands over my face. Again, I swear I only shut my eyes for a second.

  Tom smiled warmly at me. “I’d say so. You’re drooling.”

  This was awkward and probably the first time anyone I worked with has seen me not vigilant. In embarrassment, I ran my thumb down the side of my mouth. I glanced at Gladys, who typed away on her computer like we didn’t exist.

  “Long night?”

  I rose to my feet. I’ve always felt it was rude to talk to someone while sitting. Equal eye level just felt right. “You have no idea.”

  Tom’s icy blue eyes surveyed me for a little while. I could tell he was pondering whether to ask me about last night or not. I kept my gaze locked on his, trying to think of a nice way to tell him to mind his own business, if he asked.

  “Come on, we should go,” Tom said, hugging his charcoal suit jacket tighter around him as he glanced around the room. “Do you have any belongings?”

  “Just me.”

  “Then let’s get out of here.”

  I followed closely behind him as he led me through a concealed white door across from where I fell asleep. We walked silently through a boring maze of white walls before we located the room we’d use. From the back pocket of his dark slacks he pulled out a key card and swiped it through the tiny slit provided. When the three lights went from red to green, the door opened and we stepped inside. I didn’t know why the teleportation chambers were so out of the way. It was merely an empty room, making the formalities look stupid. There was no furniture, no windows and definitely no décor. It was very science lab-like. The white in this room seemed to be glowing a little bit brighter than the walls in the waiting room.

  “Do you get nauseous when teleporting?” he asked, producing a small, clear container of fluoro green pills and presenting them to me. I shook my head. On my first trip to Earth, I’d had to take at least three pills to ease my stomach after we’d already teleported. It was horrible, but seeing Lucas teleport with little to no discomfort forced me to suck it up. It’s easy once you get used to it. Tom took two of the pills and popped them one by one into his mouth. His perfect teeth chomped down on them and he swallowed hard.

  “You get nauseous?” I asked, curiously. It was hard to believe a Veltra angel gets nauseous. Teleporting was their only skill.

  He chuckled. “No, I just like the taste.”

  Tom grabbed my wrist and the hard floor dropped out from underneath me. I was floating, or at least it felt like floating. Weightlessness was the first phase of teleporting. The next was the feeling of being pulled in all different directions until your body explodes into tiny particles—another strange sensation. You can’t see yourself, but you can feel yourself. That feeling alone is the weirdest, most exhilarating feeling in the world. It’s like you’re everything, but at the same time, you’re nothing. Visually, teleporting was amazing. Nothing made sense. There were colors you’d never see on Earth, or anywhere else, for that matter. These strange shades smashed into each other, creating even more colors. It’s like you’re inside a kaleidoscope while someone twists it and the patterns begin to merge and change. It really was a blissful state. All worries are sucked out and you’re awed by the sheer extravagance of it all. It takes a few minutes before the tingling subsides and you feel like you’ve been ‘put back together’
again. After the weightlessness disappeared and gravity took hold, a dull ache shot up my spine as it supported all my weight once again. I was only one hundred and thirty-two pounds, so feeling the stress on my spine was unnerving. Slowly, the colors faded and reality set in. I glanced around the room—white. Always white. I pulled my ponytail so it draped over my shoulder. It didn’t do much to keep the unyielding white from suffocating me, but it made me happier.

  Tom cleared his throat, drawing my attention and placed his hand over his mouth, making the sound of a walkie talkie. “Good morning, passengers, this is your pilot speaking. We have successfully made the descent to the Never Dark. We hope you‘ve enjoyed your flight and thank you for choosing Thomas airlines.” He lowered his hands and smiled cheekily at me.

  “Really? You’re that guy now,” I replied dully, fighting off a smile.

  “Loosen up, Violet. It won’t kill you to have a little bit of fun.”

  Sure. In his occupation maybe it wouldn’t kill him, but in mine, it most certainly would. I guess I didn’t have too much to worry about now. I was no longer on Earth and that thought alone brought immense comfort, but it wasn’t enough to shake the nerves that had suddenly built up in my stomach. Killing Lucas was no longer my problem, but I still had to deal with the Council. They’d want to know why the Four Horsemen are on Earth and why I didn’t kill Lucas when I’d convinced the Obss Angels I would. If you thought Cole Nark was an asshole, he was nothing compared to the mega-assholes that run the show up here. The only problem was I couldn’t talk back to them. If you so much as talk out of turn, they’ll kick your ass with no hesitation. I’ve experienced it and it’s no fun at all. Being an angel comes with a long list of rules and obligations. You can’t become an angel and expect to run your own show. Every demon you kill and every decision you make should have someone’s approval. It isn’t unheard of for the Council to kill an angel. Shit happens.

  As we exited the room, I thought about my return and what it really meant. One, I punked out and ran home with my tail between my legs. That wasn’t going to look well on my record. Two, I didn’t slay my one hundredth demon, which is a massive achievement in my field of work. Fail. I guess I should count my lucky stars, though. If I’d been caught almost bedding a demon, I’d be absolutely, one hundred percent screwed. Dead.

  We stepped into the waiting area and were once again met with white furniture and white walls. Kill me now.

  “Tom!” an unknown male angel called. The muscular angel rose to his feet and strode over to us. He was wearing his uniform—the standard long sleeved, bulky vest that was attached to the pants at the back.

  The pants were tight and ran down the legs and into shin high, light-steel framed boots. There were plenty of pockets on the uniform, making the tightness of the pants look not all that tight.

  “Jared, hi,” Tom greeted and they shook hands firmly.

  I eyed the reception desk awkwardly. I didn’t want to stand around and make new friends. I wanted to go to bed and deal with whatever I needed to deal with tomorrow. That was my only plan.

  “Ashton, right?” Jared asked, extending a hand to me. “I’m Jared Rees. I admire your skills.”

  I placed my hand in his. He had a soft grip, and believe it or not, you can actually tell a lot about a person from their hand shake. Judging by this handshake, Jared doesn’t take anything seriously. I’d say this was his second or third trip to Earth without his mentor. The only demons he’s been killing are probably tracker demons—child’s play, really.

  “Thank you,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “What’s your mission?”

  Normally, I’d never ask, but my ‘always having to be right’ attitude got the better of me. That and I also happen to be a three star ranked angel, evident by the three small stars sewn into the fabric above my left breast on my catsuit. He has half a star, meaning he’s only just graduated and making him my bitch, pretty much. Angels are ranked by their kills and by their experience. Zero stars being the lowest (trainees) and six stars being the highest (the Council and other elderly angels). Most angels died by the time they get their fifth star. The stronger the demons, the higher chance of your death, but you can’t really progress any higher than two stars without killing any worthy demons. It’s like a video game, except if you die, it’s going to hurt. Before he was taken away, Lucas was two high category kills away from earning his fifth star, an achievement he’d worked hard for. I’d be pushed up to four stars if I’d managed to take Lucas down.

  “Trackers on the outskirts of Concave City. Nothing I can’t handle.” Nothing anyone can’t handle. I smiled to myself. I knew it was something amateur.

  “Did you get your one hundredth demon?” Jared asked.

  The question hit me like a ton of bricks and my chest ached. Not with sadness, but with embarrassment and disappointment.

  “Uh, no, no I didn’t.” To avoid any further embarrassing questions, I nodded farewell to Tom and Jared and I headed over to the reception desk. The man that sat at the reception desk had beautiful skin, the color of mocha. It was flawless. I couldn’t even find a pore. On the chest of his uniform I saw four bright stars sewn into the fabric. I wondered what he did to get stuck with this boring job. His bright amber eyes locked onto mine.

  “Name?” he asked.

  “Ashton.”

  “Form?”

  My stomach dropped. Damn it! I left my form on the seat next to me back on Earth. Today just wasn’t my day.

  “I don’t have it.”

  His gorgeous amber eyes were hidden under his frown and he ran his hand across his forehead in frustration. I wondered how many times this had happened to him today and immediately felt bad. I’d never forgotten my form before.

  “This isn’t what you’d expect of a rank three angel,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “I know and I apologize.”

  I could go into a big speech about last night and how I didn’t get any sleep, but somehow I didn’t see that conversation doing me any justice.

  “Luckily, Gladys got in contact and sent your reference code. Welcome back to the Never Dark.”

  The dark man turned his attention to his computer screen and ignored my presence, which was fine by me. I turned on my heel and exited the room. I was so relieved to get out of the teleportation chambers. It was so bland and daft it made the gray metal and over-polished cream floor of the Never Dark Headquarters seem like I was walking on a rainbow. I’d never been so happy to see so many different shades of gray and cream. Compared to the Earth headquarters, the Never Dark HQ was colossal. Tall Doric columns stretched up to the ceiling to support this grand structure. I ran my fingertips along the base of a column as I passed. I was unsure if the columns were made out of marble or if it was steel, coated in plaster, and then painted to replicate a marble column. It didn’t matter, I suppose. It still looked beautiful. I didn’t know what it was about the Never Dark that just made me feel welcome and safe. It just did. I walked past office doors and office areas. Past lunch rooms and board rooms. Although the HQ was huge, we could only use the bottom four levels. The other five were reserved for the Council and their important guests. In the bottom four levels we had the offices on level one (hundreds of them), on level two it was the training rooms and gyms—we were never short on those, either. Level three was the armory, you could take anything that’d fit in the teleportation room with you, from knives to rocket launchers, we had it all. However, if you wanted anything bigger than a handgun you needed higher approval, from the Council usually. It was strange. We could take weapons from this realm to Earth, but not from Earth to this realm. It made no sense, and whenever I’d asked about it, I’d get the same response—‘Humans are stupid.’ Level four was the infirmary. We had lots of clinics around the main city of Never Dark, but the main hospital was here in the headquarters. If you needed a level higher than number four, you needed a key pass or an exemption form. Those levels were strictly off limits to normal angel
s. Workers come and go from there, but they all hold level five or six stars and you do not want to poke your head into their business because they will crush it. We have a general idea of what is up there, fifth floor is where they hold rogue angels or ones that have done something messed up and are being punished. Sixth floor is a science lab. The seventh floor is the Council room, the place you’re taken for your initiation, where you make your pledge when you first become an angel. It’s also the place you’re interrogated when you’ve done something wrong. One of the next two floors is separated into six very large apartments in which the Council members live. The remaining floor remained a mystery. Nobody knew.

  “Miss Ashton?” a voice called, pulling me from my thoughts.

  Damn! I was almost in the lobby. Slowly, I turned around. It was Jenga, my assistant. In the beginning I refused to have one, but the Obss angels forced it on me. Apparently, a heavier workload brings more paperwork and meetings. Jenga keeps all of that in check for me while I’m gone. Sometimes when I’m in a weird, remote place, she calls my headpiece and tells me where to go and what to do—most of the time I never switched the headpiece on. Once I got used to Jenga, my arrogance wore off and I realized she was pretty helpful. I don’t know what I’d do without her now. The Obss angels are angels that are second in charge under the Council. They keep everyone in line while the Council deals with more pressing issues. Basically, they’re a bunch of bossy dickheads in really cool robes.

  Jenga’s jet black fringe slides down her forehead and into her eye. She swipes it away with a colorful manicured hand. Before I left, Jenga had bright blue hair and people would always laugh when they saw us together. It was annoying, to say the least. Black was better, but it made her ivory skin seem almost porcelain-like. I was afraid that if she fell, she’d smash into a million pieces.

  “Welcome back!” She smiled as she straightened her mahogany silk blouse.

 

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