Angel of Distrust

by Tabitha Barret

  “Let me go!” she shouted, hoping that Demyan would reveal his location.

  Listening for a response, she could only hear a group of monkeys chattering and screaming off in the distance. She tried to figure a way out of this predicament, but was short on options. The only bright side to having a warrior this close to her was having access to his fingerprint. He could unlock her bonds if she could get close enough. Once she was free, she could determine his guilt or innocence before calling for Michael or Balthazar, depending on his intentions toward her.

  Deciding to forego the usual threats one shouted when they were tied up, she tried a different tactic. “This is some rescue you’ve planned. I’m starting to bruise here,” she huffed.

  “Who says this is a rescue?” the warrior called from below. She couldn’t see him, but she determined that he was to her left.

  “Which one are you? All you warriors look alike to me in your stupid white togas. Then again, I’m usually more concerned about the swords in your hands so I don’t bother to look at your faces,” she said, trying to get him to talk. It was a stupid plan, but people had a tendency to engage a prisoner when they were angry.

  She heard his wings flapping before she saw him move. In a blur of white, Demyan appeared in front of her as he landed on a lower branch.

  “I cannot believe you are so arrogant as to not care about my name,” he sneered.

  She tried to shrug, but it was difficult to do. She craned her neck awkwardly to see him standing below her. “What do you want?” she asked indifferently.

  He glared at her and opened his mouth, but immediately stopped to stare off into the distance. She wondered if he was deviating from his object or if killing her was his objective.

  “How about we start with something simple since that question is stumping you? How did you find me?” she asked.

  The corner of his mouth turned up into a snarky smile. He pulled out the two knives missing from Haydn’s leg holster.

  “You certainly left a mess in Brazil,” he chuckled as he slid the knives into the pocket on the side of his toga.

  She was happy to hear that he had been in Brazil because it meant that her Nachtghuls were looking for her. They were the only ones who knew her location before Haydn had grabbed her. She wondered if Demyan had been a part of the search party or if he had heard that she was missing and seized the opportunity to steal her away.

  “Are the women safe?” she asked without thinking. She prayed that Maria and others had been able to escape during the chaos.

  He frowned as if he didn’t understand the question.

  “What did you see at the compound?” she asked, frustrated that he wasn’t able to answer her.

  He folded his arms and stared at her for a moment. He finally released his arms and rubbed the back of his neck. “At least twenty mortals were dead from gunshot wounds, and some were eaten. I found one of the knives in a dead mortal, though I am confused as to why Haydn would cripple the mortals and leave them to be eaten alive,” he replied, disgusted by what he had seen.

  She tilted her head in confusion. “Someone ate those men? That can’t be right. Haydn threw his knives at them and me, but they were disabling wounds. There’s no way that animals ate them alive,” she said, shocked by the news. She wondered if the women in the barn had suffered the same fate.

  “All I know is that you are responsible for their deaths. I saw the fire and smelled their burning flesh. There are no limits to your depravity. It seems that you have learned nothing during your years as a mortal,” he sneered.

  Annoyed that Demyan was blaming her for what had happened, she struggled to get free from the vines. He wasn’t interested in hearing the truth, which made him very dangerous. She feared that he had already made up his mind to kill her.

  He shook his head. “You can’t break through the vines without your strength. I am well aware of how weak you are. The bonds are very effective,” he said confidently.

  Groaning, she tsked at the warrior. “Don’t you get it? Something ate the mortals, which means you have a job to do. I’m not your enemy. I didn’t kill those men, even though they deserved their deaths. If something ate them, it was most likely a creature with fangs, a creature you should be killing,” she said as her words lost steam. Her stomach dropped when she realized who was responsible for eating the men. It seemed that she had been closer to the Harpy than she thought.

  “That’s a problem for the Xiphos Warriors, but it can wait until I’m done here,” he said indifferently.

  She allowed her head to fall down to relieve the pressure on her neck as she pondered how the Harpy knew about the people at the farmhouse. The Harpy could have followed her, or it could have been drawn in by the fire. Either way, she needed to back to Brazil as quickly as possible.

  Her eyes snapped up when she registered the last part of his statement. Chills ran through her at his detached tone when he said, “until I’m done here.” She was right about him changing his mission objectives. Whatever his original orders were, he was in the process of ignoring them and going rogue.

  “Demyan, I’m really not in the mood to die today, so let’s skip that part. I have to find out if the women in the compound are dead. I was there to find and kill an old enemy of Heaven and Hell. If this creature is responsible for those deaths, then it needs to die. If you want to kill something, then help me find the thing responsible and I’ll let you take its head,” she said, hoping to appeal to whatever sense of honor and duty he still had toward Heaven and the mortals. She thought it best to avoid telling Demyan about the Harpy to keep Hades off the beheading list for the time being.

  He frowned and looked down his nose at her. He either didn’t believe her or didn’t care about the thing that had killed the mortals.

  Exasperated, she began to squirm and wriggle around frantically. There had to be a way to break free.

  A sharp pain exploded across her cheek and she stopped moving. The bastard had backhanded her across the face. She lost the last of her patience and glowered at him.

  “State your mission objective immediately. You haven’t charged me with any crimes, so I am not your prisoner, which means that you have no right to keep me here. I am a Head of Hell and while you do not answer to me, you are duty bound to protect me. Explain your actions, or so help me, I will find a way to call for Lucifer and watch him eat your spleen,” she snarled.

  He stepped closer until she could see his brown eyes in the dim moonlight. He laughed cruelly and spat in her face.

  She was so appalled by his actions that she couldn’t speak.

  “You killed Farouk,” he growled. “Do not bother telling me that you don’t remember him because I am well aware. Your amnesia is the only reason you are still alive. It is hard to kill an enemy who does not remember their wrongdoing. The Council claims his death was an accident, but they are wrong. You are a murderer and I plan to make you confess one way or another before I finally have justice for my fallen friend,” he said as his voice cracked. He looked away to gather his thoughts before he smiled cruelly at her. “You should know that your Predznak are searching for you, but they will not be of any help. I made sure of that.” He jumped to the ground and began pacing and hitting the large palm leaves.

  Her rage became a tangible force. She imagined all the terrible things she would do to Demyan once she forced him to unlock her bonds. As remorseful as she was about Farouk’s death, it wasn’t enough to quell her rage. Demyan was using one death centuries ago as an excuse to harm her angels, which was something she would not stand for. If Demyan wanted a war, she would give him one, as soon as she could reach the pocketknife tucked away inside her shorts.

  ∞

  Haydn drifted in and out of consciousness, cursing his creation. The good thing about being stabbed by a Celestial Sword was that it cauterized the wound and stopped the bleeding. The intolerable part about being stabbed by a Celestial Sword was the unholy pain it left in its wake.

  S
adly, it wasn’t the first time he had been stabbed in the back by the blasted sword. In fact, it had been the main reason for his departure from the Celestial Warriors. Haydn could still remember the look of anger and surprise on the warrior’s face when he was found in a compromising position with a mortal.

  He thought back on the incident and wanted to laugh at his naïve understanding of the world. He believed that he had all the answers at the time, except the one answer he was searching for—where he belonged.

  He had finally passed the grueling training period and earned the rank of Recruit. He had completed a few basic missions under First Lieutenant Merrin, who was a strange angel and proven himself worthy to continue with the warriors. Merrin was often too occupied to care much about Lord Commander Aeries’ orders. He typically left Swordsman Rowan and Warrior Edric to lead the missions. They in turn, sent Senior Swordsman Vaughn, the now infamous Höllenhund, to do the actual work. Their squad was very disorganized, and yet somehow, they got results, so no one else seemed to notice their lack of structure.

  During his first mission, they had protected the mortals from a Rogue Angel who was pretending to be a false prophet in order to turn the mortals against Father. The Rogue wasn’t difficult to subdue, but the other warriors acted as if they had saved the world. The celebrating lasted for a few days, to Haydn’s dismay. He wanted to move on to something more challenging. Rowan didn’t like Recruits and felt that they needed to prove themselves before they earned their place. Vaughn ignored Rowan since he preferred to work on his own. Haydn always believed that it was the reason Vaughn agreed to leave the warriors and work for Hell.

  After a few battles with false gods and a monster or two, he still hadn’t earned the “respect” of Rowan. Haydn was getting tired of listening to Rowan talk about himself as if he was the greatest warrior who ever lived. Edric was just as bad. Of course, when Lord Commander Aeries or General Tabbris were around, Merrin would miraculously show up and take all the credit for their “wins.” Haydn could tell that Aeries wasn’t fooled by Merrin’s bullshit, but Tabbris clung to the First Lieutenant’s every word and praised him to no end.

  Haydn had considered asking Tabbris for a transfer to a different squadron, but decided against it when Recruit Farouk joined them a few months later. Farouk was charismatic and friendly. Recruit Perin had been placed in a different squadron, so Haydn had lost his training partner, but Farouk quickly took his place. In the beginning, Farouk rolled his eyes when Rowan boasted and laughed behind Merrin’s back, just as Haydn did. They began to commiserate about life as a warrior being nothing like they had expected. They became fast friends and looked to each other to get through the boring days when they practiced their sword skills. Farouk was a natural with a weapon in his hand, whereas Haydn lacked the finesse to wield a blade without burning his arms or legs. It wasn’t until he had ventured into the village in disguise and met a blacksmith who was crafting small knives that Haydn found his weapon of choice. He worked with Farouk night and day to improve his throwing skills and his hand-to-hand combat. With an ally at his side, Merrin’s absence and Rowan’s boasting were easier to tolerate. They had settled into a routine and enjoyed their unique friendship.

  All of that changed a year later. Rowan didn’t like that Haydn and Farouk had formed their own group and would often break up the pair on missions. Rowan started befriending Farouk and praising him for minor things. Farouk ignored Rowan’s offer of friendship at first, but over time, Farouk looked to Rowan for complements and special treatment. Farouk began to hang out with Edric and acted like best friends with Merrin. The whole thing was irritating and bizarre. Haydn didn’t know why Rowan felt threatened by his relationship with Farouk, but it was clear that it was the reason for the power shift.

  Haydn tried to speak with First Lieutenant Marcus, who was in charge of his own squad. Though Marcus understood Rowan’s less-than-favorable qualities, he told Haydn that he had to speak with Tabbris if he wanted to change his squad. Tabbris usually wasn’t interested in minor squabbles, so Haydn didn’t see the point in making an issue out of it. In the end, he stayed quiet and persevered.

  About a month after speaking with Marcus, Haydn had gone to the village to visit the blacksmith, who was always eager to show him the newest knives he had created. On his way to the smith, Haydn thought he saw Farouk head down the path leading to the village elder’s hut. He ran to catch up with Farouk to see what was happening. He hoped that there wasn’t trouble in the village. It had been too quiet as of late and he feared that a new threat had made itself known.

  Haydn crossed through the market, and headed toward the elder’s hut. Beyond the hut, he saw Farouk run off the path toward the cow pasture near the lake. Haydn quickly followed him, but lost sight of him when he entered a small grain house.

  Haydn ran up to the grain house and peeked into the musty room. It was dark inside, but a few rays of light managed to stream through the gaps in the wooden roof. Inside he saw movement and heard hushed voices.

  “Quiet down,” a voice that sounded like Farouk said in a hushed tone.

  Haydn was uneasy about the way Farouk had spoken. It sounded like he was trying to hide something. Without thinking, Haydn pulled the door open and found a woman pressed up against the wall. Farouk had his hand over the woman’s mouth and his hand was reaching for the bottom of her tunic.

  “Let her go,” Haydn said, stepping into the damp room.

  “You have no business here, Haydn. Leave,” Farouk said dismissively.

  Haydn shook his head. “I doubt that she is a Siren or a Rusalka or you would be the one trapped against the wall, so I suggest you let her go.”

  “She disrespected me and she needs to be taught a lesson. You will leave right now before I take issue with you,” Farouk sneered.

  “No,” Haydn said, standing his ground. “This is not you, Farouk. You have allowed Rowan’s praise to corrupt you. This woman should not be harmed because you believe that she disrespected you. You are a Warrior and you took a vow to protect the mortals. She owes you nothing for doing your job,” Haydn replied placing his hand over his knife belt.

  “I would think twice about attacking a fellow Warrior,” Farouk said menacingly.

  “You are not a Warrior if you are trying to harm a mortal,” Haydn said. He jumped to the side and rolled into a crouch. He threw two knives, one that hit Farouk’s thigh, and the other that embedded itself in his leg.

  Haydn motioned for the woman to run toward him while Farouk was busy trying to remove the knives.

  “Run home,” Haydn said to the terrified woman. She nodded and ran for her house across the field.

  Farouk got to his feet and drew his Celestial Sword. His leg was injured badly enough to keep him off balance, but he was determined to continue the fight. He swung at Haydn’s head but he didn’t have the proper footing on the uneven ground and missed.

  Haydn kicked him in the stomach, but Farouk recovered and snapped his arm forward, punching Haydn in the face. Haydn had seen the punch coming and braced for it, but it still hurt. He quickly backed up and pulled out his two remaining knives.

  “I suggest you run before the woman’s father or husband calls for the elders. If the Council finds out about this, you will end up in the Hall of Shadows,” Haydn warned.

  “I cannot believe that I once called you my friend. Rowan was right; you are weak and pathetic. I cannot believe it took me this long to see it. You do not understand what it means to be a warrior. It means that we are better than the other angels. They are too naïve and consumed by their pettiness to see the truth of things. We are better than the frail mortals. They need to be protected from creatures a hundred times stronger than they are. They should be worshiping us for all that we do for them,” Farouk boasted.

  Haydn hung his head. He was sad to hear that his friend had turned away from the teachings of Father. “You sound like a Rogue, Farouk. I can only imagine what nonsense Rowan has put into your head, but you ca
nnot think like that. We volunteered to protect the mortals without any compensation beyond the satisfaction of a job well done. The mortals are not allowed to know who we really are and yet you expect them to worship us like gods? You need to stop this kind of thinking immediately. If you continue, they will decree that you are a Rogue and arrest you. There is still time to make amends. You are a good angel, Farouk, but you are on a dangerous path,” he said, pleading with his friend.

  “You do not understand and you never will,” Farouk laughed darkly.

  Farouk lunged forward and swung at Haydn’s legs to throw him off balance, but Haydn jumped to avoid the sword. Haydn swung his knife a Farouk’s face, catching him across the cheek. Farouk laughed at his metal knives and swung the sword at Haydn’s arm, only to spin around and kick his right hand, sending the knife to the ground.

  “Do you plan to kill me with that little metal stick?” Farouk mocked. He wiped the blood off his cheek and smiled at him, proving that a minor cut would not deter him.

  “If I have to, then yes,” Haydn retorted as they circled each other, looking for an opening.

  The sword came down again, but this time it grazed Haydn’s right arm. Despite the pain from the burn, he was able to stab Farouk’s sword arm with his remaining knife, causing him to lose his grip on his weapon. The sword dropped to the ground and the flame was extinguished.

  Farouk snarled at him and pulled the knife from his arm. Haydn stumbled away, holding his burned arm. Anger flashed across Farouk’s face a second before he stepped forward and stabbed Haydn in the chest with his own knife, just above his heart. Haydn staggered and fell to the ground. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to pull the knife out of his chest. It gave Farouk enough time to retrieve his sword and press his knee against Haydn’s left leg, pinning him to the ground.

  “I heard that you told Marcus you wanted to transfer to his squad. Rowan wanted me to teach you a lesson for sneaking off behind his back. I refused, but now I see that I should have listened to Rowan. You need to suffer for your cowardice,” Farouk hissed in his ear. He raised his sword and stabbed Haydn through his back, just missing his heart. “Tell anyone about this and I will finish the job. You will quit the Celestial Warriors and be disgraced as a failure. Do not look me in the eyes again, or you will regret it,” Farouk growled.