Anjali grumbled and rubbed the side of her neck. Why was a Celestial Warrior in town? Shit. Raphael must have sent someone to retrieve her so that he could deal with the Rusalka issue. How a Celestial Warrior had found her in Romania, she had no idea. Radek was the only one who knew where she was.
“If there is a Celestial Warrior here, then I doubt he’s here for you, of course, I never know what the Council is up to. He could be hunting both of us for all I know. Please, we should both leave and go somewhere safe to talk,” she slowly walked forward, extending her gradually healing hand to him. She hoped that he would see her concerned for him and at least make an effort to talk to her.
Alazar looked at the blood stained hand in front of him. A small part of him wanted to take hold of it and leave with her. To what end, he didn’t know, but the rational side of his brain rose up and shouted at him to run away.
The sudden sound of fluttering wings dominated all his senses and ended his debate. Nathanael was coming. Time to exit.
“Sorry honey, I’m not falling for your lies,” Alazar blew her a kiss and disappeared into the night.
Radek ran from the shadows and assessed Anjali’s damaged hand. “Come home, you need to heal,” he wiped the blood from her palm to examine it.
She turned her attention to the approaching shadow. If she left, there would be bigger problems.
“No, I have to stay and deal with this. Don’t tell Lucifer about the fight, it will only enrage him. He might even come here personally. I don’t need him executing Alazar. Do you have any idea why a Celestial Warrior is in town?” she needed to get away and find Alazar.
“I don’t know. Are you sure that you won’t come home?” Radek grimaced.
She shook her head. “I need to talk to Alazar.”
Radek nodded and disappeared.
Hoping that Alazar would retreat to his home, she forcefully pulled herself from the street and appeared in the parking lot of the castle. She slumped to the ground and tried to calm her nerves. She needed to gather her thoughts before she entered the castle. She doubted ambushing him in his bedroom would end well, so she sat on the curb and examined her cut so that she could think.
She was relieved to finally find one of her angels; unfortunately, he wanted to kill her. She wanted to curse Alazar for his attack, but she knew that she was to blame.
Worse, she was angry about Serena’s treatment of Alazar. Lucifer had told her about the terrible things she had done, but it was clear that Serena had done much worse than chain him to her ceiling as he decayed in her mirrors, based on his reaction to her dress.
Closing her eyes, Anjali took a deep breath. She had to think of a better way to approach him. There had to be a way to break through his anger and loneliness to find the angel that was meant to be a part of her, if he still existed.
Her attention was diverted when she saw a blue minivan and a white cargo van parked near the bridge. The lights in the parking lot revealed three people huddled on the bridge and three others arguing next to the vehicles. She immediately noted the matching T-shirts and jackets that read, “Spirit Experts: Search for the Afterlife”.
Panic filled her knowing that a pissed off Angel of Death would slaughter the mortals. She quickly changed back into her tourist clothing and toned down her appearance so that they would think she was a mortal. She paused, unsure of what to do. This was uncharted territory. They were paranormalists, psychics, or perhaps con artists. She didn’t know if psychics were real, but it didn’t matter. She had to get them away from the castle before Alazar found them.
She quietly approached the group, while trying to hide her injuries. She needed to get a feel for the situation.
A thin blonde woman was shivering on the bridge, fretting and holding a clipboard and a large mobile phone. “I have no idea if Cassie is lying to us, but I’m getting cold standing out here. I know it’s winter, but I was expecting to at least be indoors. I knew I should have called ahead myself. I traveled halfway around the world on the word of a woman who I barely know. My mother was right; I’m too trusting. I’m not cut out for this kind of work. I should be back at home studying for midterms and finding a nice internship where it’s safe and warm.”
Anjali was intrigued. She watched the two men with the blonde ignore her ramblings and busy themselves. The one fiddling with a computer that was balanced precariously on the railing of the bridge was obviously a techie. He was sporting a jelly-stained shirt and baggy jeans, complete with a red beard and brown hair. The one who looked stoned with the backwards hat and frat boy cargo pants was a cameraman. He was staring through his viewfinder as he moved the video camera around, taking random shots of the castle.
She turned her attention to the other group of people arguing near the vans. The one that stood out the most was a smartly dressed woman in a bright pink dress and heels. She was tall, lean, and had an air of authority with her perfect posture, impeccable nails, hair, and makeup. She was the kind of woman who enjoyed intimidating others and used her appearance as a means to an end. Her chestnut hair and light blue eyes were striking against the vivid dress and long white wool coat. Professional and stuck up were the words that came to mind. She must be the mysterious Cassie that the blonde had spoken of.
Oddly, the two tall men with her failed to notice her enticing facade. They were too busy arguing with her to care about her stern yet beautiful face. The man with the sandy blonde hair and green eyes was neatly dressed, even with his dark T-shirt, and was probably in charge of the crew. He appeared stressed as he waved his arms around and pointed to the dark castle and then to the crew. His expression was intense and frustrated. He looked like a true believer, passionate about being there. The first group was being paid to be there, whether or not they believed in the afterlife, whereas sandy blonde was the force behind the group. Things were not going well, though the woman seemed unshakable.
The other man standing with sandy blonde was calm and seemed to be the reasonable one. He listened, shook his head, and spoke softly. He tried more than once to put his hands out to calm sandy blonde. He was laid-back in appearance with messy black hair that was too long to stay in place without some sort of decent hair product. He had a zip up black fleece with the collar pulled up. He seemed tired, but remained unflappable as sandy blonde became increasingly agitated.
Anjali found her gaze roaming back to the calm man’s handsome face, with this square jaw and gorgeous blue eyes.
Snapping herself out of her unusual fantasies of licking his perfect jawline, she saw that the cameraman had noticed her standing uncomfortably in the parking lot and was filming her. She decided to venture forth and find out what was going on. If Alazar was inside the castle, she needed to help these people.
“Hello,” Anjali said as she approached the crew members. She was favoring her right side, hoping that her broken rib would heal quickly.
The blonde woman lowered her clipboard and shyly took in Anjali’s appearance. “Oh, hello. You sound like you’re from the states. What brings you out here in the middle of the night? Oh, wait, I guess you’re here for a tour. Unfortunately, the caretaker is gone for the night, which is why we are standing out here in the cold. Thankfully, it stopped snowing. Maybe I should have brought cold medicine,” the blonde muttered quickly.
Anjali smiled at the woman, who looked to be about her age, or rather, her mortal age. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk when I saw that the snow had slowed down. I was curious about the castle and so figured I would look around. I wanted to see if they had tour times posted anywhere. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you trying to take a tour of a closed castle in the middle of the night?” she laughed to herself about supposedly taking a walk since she was barely able to breathe.
“I’ve been asking myself that question all night. I would tell you that I’m standing in the middle of nowhere praying that I get the opportunity to be discovered and no longer have to get coffee for some egotistical jerk, but that w
ould be rude. We’re trying to film a documentary about whether or not the castle is filled with spirits unable to move on to the next plane of existence. I know. It sounds strange. You can laugh,” the woman was embarrassed by her explanation. “Oh, I’m Josilyn, by the way,” she juggled the clipboard and phone to shake Anjali’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Anj…Annie,” Anjali held out her hand and shook Josilyn’s. She was grateful that the cut on her palm was little more than a red scar.
“Annie, this is Morgan and that’s Doug,” Josilyn motioned to Morgan the cameraman and Doug the techie.
Doug seemed upset by what Josilyn had said and muttered something to himself.
Annie nodded to the men. “Don’t worry; I would never make fun of the afterlife. I have too much respect for it. I believe there are plenty of things that we don’t understand in this world. So why are you here exactly? I wouldn’t think a castle would be a great place to find spirits. I would think a church, a morgue, or a cemetery would be better suited,” she was already plotting a new destination for the crew, far away from Death.
Doug spoke up for the first time, though he kept his eyes averted from Annie. “Well, the theory is that spirits tend to linger in places where many people have died. The history of this place alone makes it a hotspot for such activity.”
He wasn’t wrong, even though she couldn’t tell him that. Aside from the soul of the girl by the bridge, the place was crawling with lost souls that had missed their bus to the other side. They had been confused, angry, or just unwilling to move on and now they were stuck. She grimaced when she thought about them being swept up in an Apocalypse. Problem solved.
“I see. So you plan on detailing the history of the castle and then proving what, that souls really exist and that some are still here?” Annie asked carefully.
“Yes, we want to get video and audio proof that there are spirits here and see if we can talk to them,” Doug replied quickly, and then turned his attention back to his monitor.
Talk to souls? She wondered if anyone in the group actually had that ability.
Josilyn rolled her eyes and shifted her feet to keep warm. “That is, if we can find the lady who runs this place. She was supposed to be here three hours ago to show us around. We left to check into the inn, but came back because we were told that she was coming. Now we’re standing here in the dark, freezing to death.”
“Who are they?” Annie asked innocently, motioning to the other group. She was careful to keep the collar of her coat up around the sides of her bruised neck.
Morgan, who was still staring at her with his camera, was about to answer, but Josilyn cut him off. “That’s Cassie; she’s the producer, the one who set this whole thing up. She makes a lot of promises and honestly, I’m not sure if she can make good on them,” Josilyn huffed, then shrugged away her answer, realizing that she was venting her frustrations on a stranger.
“I take it that Cassie is responsible for this impromptu venture into Romania?” Annie smirked, trying to gain Josilyn’s approval.
“Yep. Somehow, she can’t even organize a tour of the castle, despite being the producer. I was doing just fine with the bookings, until she came along. You don’t even want to get me started on the flight arrangements. Can you say peasant class? Unfortunately, Pete and Derick bought into her promises and they practically ran here. Pete’s too eager to find proof of spirits and believed her immediately, at least until we got here. Now he doesn’t seem so sure. Pete doesn’t go anywhere without Derick, so here I am losing feeling in my fingertips,” Josilyn blew into her hands, hoping to warm them.
Annie looked at the other group and assumed that Pete was sandy blonde and Derick was the adorable calm one.
“Wow, that’s rough. I’m sorry you’re having so much trouble. You know, there are other castles in Romania. I’ll bet if you contacted a few in the morning they would be happy to let you film there. Who cares where it is as long as it has the potential for spirit activity,” Annie tried to sympathize with Josilyn in an attempt to be friendly. She decided to use Josilyn’s distrust of Cassie to her advantage.
“Hmm. I guess I could make a few phone calls. I certainly don’t want to be standing around here tomorrow night with nothing to show for it,” Josilyn mused as she glared at Cassie.
“You don’t have to tell the producer. I’m sure she will be happy as long you can find an exciting location. She would be grateful for your initiative, I would think,” Annie smiled encouragingly, though she doubted that Cassie would appreciate anything. She didn’t know why she disliked the woman, but she couldn’t help herself.
She looked over at the group again and was surprised to see them walking closer. Pete looked pissed and Derick looked defeated. Cassie looked straight at Annie with daggers in her eyes. Annie was taken aback by the hostility rolling off Cassie. Clearly, the woman had a grudge against the world.
Pete shouted to Josilyn, his temper rising to surface. “Hey Josilyn, Cassie is going to try to call the caretaker again, give her the phone and let’s get this sorted out.”
Josilyn jumped at the sound of Pete’s voice and hurried over to him with a smile. “Of course, Pete. Here’s the phone, Cassie. I have the caretaker’s number if you need it,” she said politely though she never took her smile or her eyes off of Pete. Cassie could have been on fire and Annie doubted that Josilyn would have spared her a glance, unless it was to watch her burn.
Cassie ripped the phone from Josilyn’s hand, looked Annie up and down with a nasty expression on her face, and sauntered off to the other side of the parking lot. Yes, Annie’s initial assessment of the woman was correct; she was a total bitch. Oddly enough, she couldn’t get much off the woman. She could practically smell the lies on her and there was a vague sense of wrongdoing, but Annie couldn’t figure out the source of her concern. It didn’t often happen, but there was always the exception.
Josilyn was a good person to a fault, though she had a few minor sins from when she was younger. Doug was perhaps guilty of being lazy and Morgan wasn’t close enough to addiction to get into any real trouble. Desire seemed to be his sin of choice, but she couldn’t tell why it was so strong. Perhaps he too dreamed of bigger things than being a cameraman. Overall, the crew was mostly clean and on the “good” list. Pete was toying with anger, which was bad, but she had a feeling it was more due to lack of sleep and anxiety. Derick was Purgatory-bound, but was close to falling over the edge into Hell.
“Who’s this?” Pete snapped as he noticed Annie for the first time.
“This is Annie. She’s a tourist like us. I’m sorry, Annie; I didn’t ask where you were from,” Josilyn said half to Pete and half to Annie.
“I’m from New Jersey,” Annie smiled, but didn’t elaborate.
“Backpacking through Europe?” Derick asked quietly, acknowledging her.
Annie was about to answer him as rational thought failed her. Her eyes locked onto Derick’s and a jolt ran straight through her all the way down to her groin. Time no longer existed and Hell was forgotten. As she gazed into his dark blue eyes, she forgot her name, her date of birth, and if she was wearing any panties. A surge of electricity burned through her and she gapped open-mouthed at him. All of her bruises and broken bones were gone as she focused on the man in front of her. She managed to nod, still slightly stunned as the others came into back into view. They were looking at her as if she were “special” and incapable of speech. She tried to remember her cover story and why she was in...where was she? Romania. Yes, Romania. Perhaps Alazar had hit her head harder than she thought.
Derick blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. She could tell that he too had been affected by the electricity that had nearly crippled her.
Cassie rudely invaded the group before Annie could speak.
“Derick, Peter, a word please,” Cassie walked away quickly after her terse statement.
Pete and Derick followed helplessly behind her, smiling and shrugging away Cassie’s rudeness.
/> “Is she always like that?” Annie asked when oxygen finally reached her brain and she was able to compile a sentence again.
“Yes. She acts like she owns the world,” Josilyn smirked.
“Why do they put up with her? Is one of them sleeping with her?” Annie said before she could censor herself.
“God, I hope not,” Josilyn blurted out. It was becoming obvious that Josilyn liked Pete, though he didn’t reciprocate her feelings.
Annie watched Cassie move closer to Derick until she was practically touching him. It felt like spiders were crawling over her arms as she watched Cassie flip her hair and pout at Derick. Sheer jealousy spiked inside of her. The image of Cassie’s outrageous pink dress falling to the bottom of a ravine filled her mind. Annie shook herself out of her killing rage when she realized that Josilyn was speaking.
“…we have a public access show in Tulsa; it’s the 2:30 to 3:00 A.M. time slot. Only insomniacs and addicts are up at that time of night. Oh, and mothers with babies that don’t sleep. They’re our target audience. The guys are really popular despite the crappy time slot. The women fawn over Pete and Derick and have been writing to us asking for a longer special. Miss Lee Press On over there happened to catch their show, like she’s ever been up past her beauty sleep hours. She works for a network in Tulsa. She said that she wanted to produce a documentary and then hopefully turn it into something bigger. Pete was so excited that he packed his bags immediately. I swear if this is a setup, I’m going to be really mad,” Josilyn walked over to the minivan and put the clipboard down on the passenger seat.
“She’s the money. Got it. Does she have a thing for Derick? She looks like she’s about to consume him,” Annie sneered. As much as she didn’t care about the personal lives of the mortals, Annie suddenly became very interested in the answer.
The Third Throne: Angel of Death Page 12