by Faye, Amy
Helping Elise to hop a fence and then hopping over it myself, we both stood in the back yard of the house across the street from the target. It was empty, and was the perfect vantage point to see what we were going to get ourselves into.
She held my hand as we crept up to the corner of the house and leaned out to observe the house. It was a tall, white building, and quite large with a garden that was probably once beautiful but had since gone without any work done. Joey had the deed of the house for months. I was surprised that the home owner's association wasn't on his ass about keeping up appearances, since this was a truly fancy neighborhood.
Outside of the house that Joey had bought, there were two men standing on a wide porch. They were facing out, watching the street, and they both had short haircuts. Both men looked like giant brutes, with more muscle than brains between the two of them. There was no way I could have fought them hand to hand. Shooting them was always an option, but probably not an incredibly good one.
“If we can get close enough, I can shoot them both,” I said to Elise, watching their movements. I squeezed her hand before releasing it, putting them on Joachim and Boaz. The men barely shuffled away from the door they were guarding, hardly even shifting their weight. There was no chance of either of them leaving that spot on their own.
I thought I saw movement through one of the windows, but it was too dark to be sure.
“Okay,” she answered, her voice unsure. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
I couldn't help but chuckle. “You're right, it is. If I shoot them, that will alert everyone in the house and everyone that lives nearby. We'll ruin our chance of getting the drop on them, and we'll probably get the cops called on us.”
“Your neighbors didn't call the cops,” she pointed out.
I sighed, shaking my head. “They're poor, and I don't live in the safest area. This place, though, is an upper class neighborhood. These people aren't afraid of being snitches. They'll call the police on us in an instant.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a bad idea. I have a better one.” She quirked her lip up into a wicked smile. Closing her eyes, she raised both of her hands and took deep breaths. I watched closely, my eyes flicking from her to the two men. As she brought her hands together, interlocking her fingers, the men turned to each other. Their arms came out, their hands wrapped around the other's neck, and they squeezed.
“Holy shit,” I said, watching as the men choked each other until they both fell to the ground. “That's absolutely horrifying.”
She gave me a sad look. “I know. I'm sorry. I'll try not to use my magic again, but that seemed like a better idea than...”
I cut her off. “No, don't be. It's also incredibly useful and bad ass, I just hope you never use it against me. Come on, let's go get them.” Her powers really were terrifying, but more in an awe-inspiring way than a shaking in my boots kind of way. It was becoming more and more possible that she really was a demon.
Which kind of sucked. How could I believe in demons without believing in God?
“Whatever,” I said to myself, shaking my head as we jogged across the street. We would cross that bridge when we came to it. Not before, and definitely not while we were walking into danger.
“What?” Elise asked, but I just waved my hand and put a finger to my lips to shush her. We both grabbed the men, dragging them down the street. Pulling out the rope that I packed into my right pocket, we worked together to tie both of them to a light pole. I didn't know when they might wake up, and I didn't want to be ambushed by them.
As Elise and I finished tying the men up, we glanced at each other. I knew what she was thinking. She knew what I was thinking. Things could go bad, and fast, the second that we took a step into that house. We could be shot immediately, or step on another shotgun trap.
Digging through the men's pockets, I removed their weapons. One had a knife that I gave to Elise. She took it and slid it into the boots she was wearing for easy removal. The other had a gun, which she also took. She was a little bit more uneasy about that hunk of metal, and held it in a shaking hand.
Wishing that I could reassure her of our impending success, I instead stood and ran a hand through my hair. There was no point in lying to her. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She did the same, pressing a hand to her stomach where the bullet had entered her.
“Is the bullet still in there?” I asked. She nodded. “We'll get it out when we're done here. I promise.” It had to hurt like hell to keep that thing in her guts, and could probably lead to complications. That would have to be the first thing we did if we made it out of there alive.
“I know,” she said, smiling at me. There was a sadness there, a quiver in her bottom lip. I didn't understand it, but I knew better than to ask about it. She was secretive, and she was focused on finishing what we had started.
With a nod, we both turned back to that house, where we might find death or redemption. Neither of us could say for sure which.
Chapter 17
Imogael
The inside of the house wasn't much better than outside. Tattered curtains hung from the windows, but only barely. Old wood was at the entrance, but the living room was carpeted in white shag. The room itself was empty, without a single piece of furniture on the floor. The fireplace on the far right wall was empty and cold.
The light fixtures were empty, the rooms dark. Mirrors lined the majority of the walls. It would have been weird if I didn't know that they were dealing with magic they barely understood. Mirrors were able to bind beings like myself and Seraniel if charged correctly.
Those mirrors, though, stood on the walls without a recent charge. They must have last been used when they first summoned Seraniel, to keep him from completely obliterating them for daring to bring him from Heaven.
I could smell blood, old and new, on the floor. The dark splotches on the white carpet made it obvious where they were, so I could step out of their way. Scott did the same, though I doubted he could smell them.
The living room led to a hallway. Two lumps were on the floor there, and it was likely they were bodies. I couldn't tell if they were moving, or alive or dead. My stomach twinged with anxiety and pain.
Scott stepped ahead of me, walking fearlessly up to the masses on the floor. I felt incredibly grateful to him for that. I had no idea where he found the strength and bravery, because all I felt in that moment was fear. And nausea.
“It's Antonio and Saejima,” he said, bending down to touch their necks. “They're still breathing. They're bloody, but they just got beat to shit, they weren't shot or stabbed as far as I can tell. Nothing a little rest won't fix.” He smiled, relieved that his friends would probably be okay. I hoped, so much, that they really would be. Scott didn't deserve to lose any more people that he loved.
“Should we wake them up?” I asked, moving closer to them. The rest of the house was dead silent. It was suspicious, but I didn't want to move any faster than necessary. One wrong move could throw one of us into another trap.
“Hmm,” hummed Scott. He poked Antonio, then shook his head, turning to Saejima. Shaking his shoulder, Scott brought the man back to reality with a snort and a start. Saejima looked up at us, the corner of his lip swollen and bloody.
“Scott?” He said, his mouth slurring. “Elise?”
“Hey, man. You're looking pretty good right now.” Scott grinned, and Saejima chuckled without moving his mouth. “Can you tell me what we're walking into?”
Saejima's face went white. “Don't. Don't go in there. Just get me and Antonio out of here, let's leave Arkansas.”
“What?” Scott asked. “I can't do that.”
“They have some kind of… demon, or something. Scott, you don't stand a chance.”
Scott looked up at me, a frown on his lips. I nodded, then examined the doors ahead, trying to find out where they were waiting for us.
“Sorry, man, but I'm going in. Any advice?”
Saejima shook his head. “There's no a
dvice that I could give you. You'll be dead as soon as you walk in.” He grabbed Scott's hand, pulling him closer. “They said they know Elise,” he whispered. I could only barely hear it. The words stung.
“I know they do. Don't worry. She's going to help me. Take some time to rest, then I expect you to get Antonio out of here. Got it?”
Saejima nodded to his friend, their eyes locked on one another. “I'd tell you to be careful, but I know you won't.”
“You know me so well,” Scott said with a crooked smile. Standing, he came to my side and put a hand on my shoulder.
“I think they're behind this door, downstairs,” I said. “I can feel… something.” I didn't want to say that I could feel Seraniel. That he and I have a bond. That I once loved him as much as I loved Scott.
Scott nodded. “Let's go.” Leading the way again, he opened the door and stepped onto the stairs. I wished that there had been lights, something to guide my feet. I stumbled a few times going down those steps, my body threatening to fall over and send Scott and I to the bottom in an instant. My hand gripped the railing, and I willed my body to gain control.
At the bottom and around a tight corner, we found a large room. Joey and Sloan were standing there, with the only light in the house on them. They were both taller than I imagined them to be, with pale skin and wild eyes. Nothing about them seemed right. It was like they were insane.
Joey, the man that hadn't shot me, had mangled skin and a dead eye where Scott had shot him. He looked much worse off than Sloan did, who still had a sort of beautiful bad boy look to him. If he weren't my attempted murderer, I might have been interested in him.
But I knew he was pure goddamn evil, and coming from a demon? That's saying a lot.
Behind the two of them, towering over them in his glittering black glory, was Seraniel. The men stepped to the side so that I could see him, see how they had treated him, and it broke my heart. He looked utterly destroyed, with a puss-filled and swollen eye and bumps on his head. His chest had gashes in it, though what human sword could have damaged an angel I had no idea.
His wings, too, were damaged. They weren't gone like mine, but there were cuts that were clearly infected and huge patches of feathers were missing. Those humans, though I could barely call them that for their savagery, had tortured Seraniel. They had tortured an angel.
I knew they would pay in the afterlife, but I wanted to pay right then and there, too. I wanted to make them pay. Reaching out my hand, I cried out, “Seraniel!” Tears fell from my eyes, my first real tears.
Trying to take a step forward, I was met with some kind of force field.
“Stupid demon bitch,” Sloan said, sneering at me. “Didn't you notice when you stepped into a protection circle? Now you're just as trapped as this angel is. You'll become our pet, too, as soon as we kill Scott.”
Sloan and Joey both laughed, their mad eyes watching Scott and I closely. It was true, I had stepped into a protection circle without knowing. I was trapped there, in that sloppily drawn piece of shit. What an insult!
But while I knew I couldn't move, I noticed that there were no symbols to stop magic from going in or out. A rookie mistake, or had Seraniel given them the wrong instructions? Either way, it gave me some hope that we weren't completely fucked.
If I could use magic, I could control one of them. But which one?
Scott
The big freak of a man raised a chained hand to Elise, shaking his head. I couldn't believe how richly black his skin was. “Do not come any closer,” the man warned. Did he have wings? Holy shit, he had wings. “You will be hurt if you come closer.”
The big black guy was pretty fucking scary, if I'm being honest. I didn't want to get into any kind of fight with him, because he could have overpowered me with strength alone. He was as muscular as I was, but was at least a full foot taller than me. I was used to being the one towering over others.
Joey grinned at me, his chest puffed out. He seemed to think he had already won, like he got exactly what he wanted already. The big black guy was in chains. Had Joey put them on him? A bit racist to put a black guy in chains, even if he did have big wings.
Things were getting a bit weird for me, and I wasn't really understanding what was going on. Elise couldn't move because of some kind of circle. She looked at me in desperation. “Scott, you have to help Seraniel. Please, please, I beg of you. Please help him.” She looked so absolutely miserable. All throughout my time with her, she had something mischievous in her eye, but at that moment there was only misery. Sadness. Worry. Emotions I never wanted to see on her face. Her voice was weak, shaking.
Seraniel must have been the… thing. How could there be someone so tall and so dark? His skin seemed to have a blue tone to it, too. Like the night sky.
Aw, hell, I might as well admit it. He had to be a demon. There weren't many other options for someone that strange looking. He didn't have horns, but he had the wings for sure.
“Joey,” I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to slam my body into him, knock him to the ground, and punch him until he was a bloody pulp. Something inside of me told me that was probably a pretty shit idea. “What exactly is it that you want? Why did you do all of this? Just to get revenge?”
“Just revenge?” Joey asked. “No. No, I want so much more than revenge. I want your death, by my hand, that much is true. But I also want to rule all of Arkansas. I want to recreate Southern Mayhem and build it even bigger, even better than it was before. And once I have Arkansas under my control, I'm going to take so much more. With the help of this angel, my new pet, I have almost unlimited power. There are so many possibilities.”
So they thought the thing was an angel. I guessed that was about as likely as a demon. My head felt a bit like it was floating, and my hands were shaking. It was going to be a struggle to hold it together as I was face with the reality of demons, angels, Heaven and Hell. All while I had to face down an inner demon, and a demon from my past.
It wasn't going to be easy, but I had to do it. For Elise's sake.
Joey's left hand was empty, but his right hand held a sword with a glittering golden hilt. Holding it in front of him, he allowed me to see it before he sliced into the angel's skin. Fire burst forth from the wound, licking at the metal. The big black guy stood still, refusing to react though he obviously felt excruciating pain.
Elise cried out again, throwing herself against the invisible wall that had captured her. “Stop! Stop hurting him, you bastard! Do you not realize the horrors you're dooming yourself to when you torture an angel like that?” Tears were streaming down her face, but Joey just laughed an evil laugh.
“Do you think I give a fuck? This angel could give me eternal life if I told him to. There's no need for me to die and go to your Hell, demon cunt. Now shut your fucking mouth, or I'll take off one of his wings.”
She whimpered, wiping away her tears but only sobbing out more of them. I hated seeing her like that. So despondent.
Joey turned back to me, that sly grin on his face. “Isn't it so typical that you would choose a demon while I chose an angel. I guess that shows who the real evil one is. And what a coincidence that they used to be lovers! But you were always a home wrecker, weren't you, Scott?”
I looked to Elise, utterly flabbergasted. He was once her lover? An angel with a demon? That made no sense, at all. Wasn't that forbidden or something? She nodded an answer to the question in my eyes, confirming that it was true.
Things just kept getting stranger and stranger. I was beginning to realize I didn't know a damn thing at all about my world.
“I don't give a fuck. And I didn't wreck your home. I wasn't sleeping with your girl,” I told Joey.
“Bullshit,” Joey replied.
I shook my head. “Couldn't you tell? Sloan was lying to you, all along. All these years. He turned you into a murderer with one lie, and you completely fell for it. I couldn't believe you were so fucking gullible.”
Joey looked at Sloan, who refuse
d to meet his eyes. Rage was written all over his face, but then he swallowed it down. “That doesn't matter now. All that matters is that I'm going to kill you, and your little whore.”
“I'm not going to let you do that,” I answered, squaring my shoulders and preparing for a fight. If it was a fist fight, I'd win, easily. If it was a gun fight, well… chances were about even, then.
Joey spat out a laugh. “Don't you see? Are you too stupid? I clearly have the upper hand here, Scott. You don't stand a goddamn chance. That's why I'm even standing here, explaining things to you. Because I can't fucking lose! You're fucked!” His laughter grew louder, until he doubled over from it. Something had snapped in the time he had been gone. Something in his head was all wrong. Joey was absolutely fucking nuts, and there was no saving him.
The only option was to kill him, because reasoning with him wasn't going to get me anywhere. I just had to figure out what the right time was.
Chapter 18
Imogael
A sudden idea came to me. If I could talk to Seraniel, I might be able to figure out the best way to deal with our current situation. He had probably spent his time with those pricks analyzing their weak points and figuring out how to manipulate each of them.
Sniffling and wiping the dripping snot from my nose with my arm, I closed my eyes and sent out a thought. Just a hello, whispered from my mind to his. It wasn't intrusive, it was just asking for an invitation, and acting as one for my mind as well. This was something that demons did often, since we rarely wanted to meet face to face. It was less likely to cause a fight if we communicated over thoughts.
Seraniel pushed the thought back with a sharp look at me. Didn't he understand what I was trying to do? I sent out another greeting, which he also sent back to me. I was starting to get frustrated. I didn't understand why he wasn't just answering me. What was he trying to protect?