“Why are you doing this?” Kara growled and ignored the excruciating pain in her back. “You’re human—how can you side with demons. They can’t be trusted. They’re using you. They’ll kill you someday.”
Ranab chuckled softly, and Kara was appalled by his manner. “It’s very simple. We have been promised immortality. Serve the netherworld—and we will live forever. It’s a very good offer. Only a fool would not accept. There is unimaginable power in the netherworld. And soon I will have a taste of it.” His brown eyes gleamed with desire, and Kara wanted to throw up.
“Humans are mortal. You’re not supernatural. You can’t cross into the netherworld. You’ll die. Can’t you see she’s lying to you? This is all a game to her. She doesn’t care about what happens to you.” Kara wiggled into a sitting position. The gleam in his eyes made Kara uncomfortable.
Ranab raised his fist in the air. “Let me fill you in on a little secret. We won’t be mortals for long. Soon we will cross over and become powerful creatures of the netherworld. Then we will never die—”
“We’ll see about that—” David slammed his body hard against Ranab. The seir tripped over Kara’s legs and fell. David laughed, pleased with himself. “Enjoy the view from down there, clown face? Come on Kara. Let’s go!”
Kara jumped to her feet. She glanced over to the Rift. It was gone. The space was quiet—as though it had never even been there in the first place. An icy chill rippled through her body. Jenny was gone.
Kara kicked Ranab as he tried to get up. She dashed along the passageway and ran skillfully with her hands tied behind her back. She caught up with David.
“So we can kick and punch them—but just not kill them?”
David shrugged. “I guess so. We’re not dead yet.”
Peter had avoided the seirs as well and ran towards them. His face was drawn, and Kara knew they needed to find a water source soon and get out of there.
“Get them!” Ranab roared behind them. “Don’t let them get away!”
Kara looked around frantically. “Back door! Hurry!”
They bolted towards the great iron doors at the opposite end of the warehouse. David ran at her side. Peter trailed behind. Kara reached the doors within seconds and searched for a door knob or lever, but there wasn’t any. She kicked the door with all the strength she could muster. It creaked, but didn’t open. It was like kicking a block of concrete. David slammed his body against the doors. They didn’t budge.
“Okay, on three,” said David. “One…two…three!” Both he and Kara slammed their bodies against the great iron doors. But still the doors remained intact.
Peter kicked the doors in frustration. “It’s no use. They won’t open. We can’t get out! They’re going to kill us!”
“That’s right, little angel. Your time is up.”
Kara whirled around.
Ranab sauntered towards them. Nine gloomy white faces glowered behind him, with death blades swinging at their sides. Their black leather coats flapped at their heels. Kara unconsciously took a step back.
The seirs’ leader sneered. “We’ve played your games long enough, little angels. Our mistress has promised us your skins,” he lifted his blade in the air and pointed at Kara. “Except for that one, of course. You see, little angels—it’s time to take your punishment for entering my city without permission. We’re going to show you how we like to play. It’s like I said before, entering my city comes with a price.”
“Yeah, and what price is that, circus freak.” David glowered at the seirs.
Ranab gave him a one sided smile. “The price is your angel soul, little man. And I’m going to really enjoy killing you myself. You see…you can’t kill us…and there’s nothing you can do to stop us from killing you.” Black vapors snaked around his hands. He twisted his blade playfully.
The seirs made a wall in front of the angels. Their large bodies loomed over them. In the ominous warehouse light, their horrid faces looked even more sinister than Kara had first imagined. Their dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Their death blades twitched in their hands in anticipation. She could clearly see them now as demons—demons in training. Peter shivered beside her, and squeezed closer —
A blade flew in the air. David wailed. A death blade perforated his shoulder. The seirs laughed excitedly like a pack of hyenas. Eagerness flashed in their eyes. They were enjoying themselves. Kara was disgusted. She felt the cold iron doors press against her back. They were pinned against the doors and couldn’t get out.
A flash of metal whipped past Kara. Peter screamed and slipped to the ground. A large death blade punctured his thigh. The rage of her power instantly flooded through her. The elemental power awakened. She fought to control it. She knew if it were released, she would kill all the seirs—and then she would die. She might get away with tripping them, but deep down she knew that if she killed them, she would pay with her own soul. She strained to calm herself down. She would figure out a way to escape. She had to.
A seir stepped in front of Peter. He grabbed a fistful of Peter’s jacket and hauled him up easily. “You’re the most pathetic angel I have ever seen. You’d soil yourself if you could.” The seir laughed wickedly. Peter’s boots grazed the floor, and the seir lifted him higher. He dangled in the seir’s grip like a puppet.
Kara drew upon her power carefully. She reached out and tapped into only a fragment of the wild energy. It danced around the edges of her fingers.
“Say goodbye angel. Your soul is mine.” The seir lifted his blade towards Peter’s neck—
A thunderous crash exploded from the opposite end of the warehouse. The front garage door blasted open in a heap of metal. Headlights flared and blinded Kara for a moment. She blinked as a 1940’s black Ford sedan crashed into the parked SUV and dragged it to the side, clearing a path. The tires screeched as the car backed away and shot forward. The Ford swerved, tires screaming, and skidded to a stop.
Kara could smell the burning rubber. All four doors swung open, and four men and one woman, who, much to Kara’s surprise, was the driver, stepped out of the car. They wore elegant dark colored suits and black fedora hats. They walked casually towards the group, a slight hop in their step. Kara was reminded of the gangsters from the old movies she used to watch with her grandmother. But instead of sporting machine guns—they wielded elegant silver swords. Who were these mortals?
Peter fell to the ground. He looked up at Kara with a confused expression, but seemed more relieved than anything else. Kara quickly pulled him towards her.
The seirs tensed. They shifted their weight anxiously, and their death blades jerked and gleamed in anticipation. Their attention was glued on the new arrivals. Saliva dripped from their wicked snarls.
“Ranab. It’s been a while,” said a man with a scar that started from his left eye and ran all the way down to his chin. “Can’t say that I’ve missed you, though.” His voice was raspy and commanding. He tipped his hat. Stubble speckled his square jaw.
Ranab glowered at the man and stepped forward. “Santo. I see your scar has healed. Care for another one?”
Santo studied him for a moment. He pointed his sword towards Kara. “Let the angels go, or you’ll regret it, demon lover. I think I’m in the mood for a little cleansing. The streets have been dark of late.”
Angels? So they could see them too, thought Kara. She regarded the group with more interest. Their faces were pulled back in deep scowls, but they were far less foul than the seirs. They walked with confidence and determination. Kara saw old wounds on the woman’s hands, like small white marks. The woman caught Kara staring and winked at her.
“This is our hunt,” growled Ranab. “They were promised to us. Their deaths belong to us. You have no right to take them!”
Santo gave him an impish grin. “Oh, but I do have a right. I don’t care who promised you what, demon lover. You’re not going to hurt any of these angels. I think it’s high time we taught you seirs a lesson.”
A large vein t
hrobbed on Ranab’s forehead. His black eyes glinted with hatred. “They will die if I say so! You are outnumbered. We will destroy you easily. And you have a woman with you. Ha! We will kill her, and then we will take what is ours. We will feast on the souls of angels today!”
Santo smiled. “No angel is dying today.”
He swung his sword in the air and charged. Instantly, the others followed suit, and five swords gleamed in the air. The ringing of swords echoed in the warehouse. The seirs rushed forward and met them. The sounds of metal hitting metal resonated around them. A flash of a sword perforated the abdomen of a seir, and he fell to the ground under a flailing black coat. The clang of metal and wails erupted throughout the warehouse. With bloodlust in his eyes, Santo swung his sword at his attacker. The seir never had a chance, dropping like a stone before another took his place. He dove with his weapon. Santo lifted his sword and blocked the attack. The seir curled his fingers into a fist and hit him hard into the face. Santo staggered back. Blood dripped from his mouth. He spat. The seir snarled and leaped into the air. Santo kicked outward and smashed him in the gut. The seir began to choke and gag.
The woman parried and blocked her way through two seirs. She twisted around and brought her weapon down in an arc. A seir went down. The other sprang forward and kicked her in the face. The woman stumbled backwards, blood spattered the ground. She wiped her jaw with her hand and charged. She knocked his death blade out of his hand with a single blow. The seir stood for a moment, his hands clamped into fists, but then he backed away and retreated.
Ranab swore and retreated with the rest of his group. They disappeared behind the entrance of the warehouse. Kara hoped to never see their ugly, white faces again. She heard a moan and kneeled down next to Peter. She turned his body around and searched for the death blade with her fingers. She felt the hard sting of a handle and pulled the death blade from Peter’s thigh. Then she forced David to kneel and pulled another blade out of his shoulder.
Despite the pain, David yelled triumphantly, “Yeah! That’s right! Run away like the scared little girls you are. See you at the circus, freaks!”
Kara shook her head slowly and stumbled towards Santo. “Thank you for helping us, we are in your debt. Your fighting skills are really impressive. Do you mind me asking…who are you people and how did you know we were angels?”
Santo smiled and turned Kara gently around to release her wrists. Her arms fell to her sides. “Ah! Thank God. I was beginning to think I’d stay like that forever.” Light shone from the cuts around her wrists. She rubbed them gently with her hands.
“I guess you haven’t been a guardian for very long?” Santo sheathed his sword in the black leather scabbard that hung from his belt around his waist. He gave Kara a warm smile.
Kara’s face tingled, and she was glad she couldn’t blush. “Um…a little over a year, I guess, if you count by mortal years.”
She studied his face. His scar was far uglier up close. It had healed a darker olive color than his skin and had a rough texture to it like leather. His thick black lashes, deep brows, and short black hair had been hidden under his fedora. If it hadn’t been for the large scar across his face, he would have been very, very handsome.
Santo’s dark eyes sparkled. “We’re a secret mortal society. We’ve been fighting alongside the legion for centuries. The angels call us sensitives, because we are sensitive to the supernatural around us. We see and understand things that other mortals can’t without training and education.”
So these were the sensitives. Kara smiled in spite of herself. If she hadn’t been picked as a guardian, being a sensitive would have been her second choice. She was very glad to finally meet them. She thought they looked badass in their suits and swords, and she could easily imagine herself fighting alongside them. Santo seemed to have read her mind and smiled at her again. She was extremely thankful she had no blood to flush her cheeks.
“We are very grateful for your help. We were in a very bad situation, to say the least,” said Peter, with a tremor in his voice. “We would have been dinner if it weren’t for you guys.”
“Glad we could help, little one,” said the woman. Her crimson lips spread into a smile of encouragement. Her fierce blue eyes were compassionate, and she moved behind him and cut his bonds. Then she did the same for David, who seemed a little too pleased to have such a pretty woman rescue him. Kara sighed and rolled her eyes.
Seeing that his charms had no effect on the pretty woman, David walked over to the 1940’s Ford sedan instead. He stretched out his arms and fell face forward onto the hood, his cheek on the cool surface. “Whoa—this is an awesome car!” He stroked the hood gently with his hands. “She’s a real beauty—I think I’m in love. I’m finally home baby.” The sensitives all gathered around the car smiling, but mostly they laughed at David.
Peter tried to follow David to the car but tripped and fell. Kara rushed over to his aid. His skin was nearly translucent. White light broke out from tiny holes all over his body. His skin looked like a thin slice of Swiss cheese. It was breaking apart. It wouldn’t hold him together for much longer.
Kara gave him a reassuring smile. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,” she whispered to him. “I’m going to get you out of here, Peter.” Peter forced a smile, but she could tell he wasn’t buying it.
Kara pulled Peter to his feet and wrapped her arm around him. “Come on. Let’s get out of this stinking place.”
Chapter 8
The Council’s Decision
After an excruciatingly long debrief at Counter Demon Division, Kara, David, and Peter were to report back in person before the High Council. Ariel had ignored Kara’s constant pleadings to let her go alone on a mission to save Jenny. The archangel informed her that she was regrettably obliged to follow the commands issued from the High Council. She flatly denied Kara’s request and told her it was a suicide mission, even though Kara had been to the netherworld before. Kara and the others were summoned to the High Council immediately. Furious, Kara had stormed out of CDD, knocking down chairs and a selection of holographic screens on her way out.
Kara had remained silent all the way to the Council of Ministers. From the elevator ride with four small red monkeys who decided to play tag with Kara’s head, to the final wild ride in a sky-car that nearly tipped over, Kara couldn’t help but shiver as she remembered Jenny’s terrified face. Lilith had taken Jenny on purpose. She knew Kara would do anything in her power to save her friend. Even if it meant risking her reputation with the legion and her own soul to save her friend—she would do it. Kara had seen the glint in Lilith’s eyes before she jumped through the Rift. Lilith had big plans for Kara. But those plans meant that Kara would have to venture into the netherworld one more time.
It was with a regretful spirit that Kara followed the others from the sky-car. They tipped the driver with one of David’s shoe-laces and watched him sputter away on his cloud-like contraption. An oracle greeted them immediately.
“Ah! Miss Clara. There you are at last!” The oracle rolled towards them crushing concrete pebbles under the weight of his enormous crystal ball. The oracle danced above the sphere and flailed his arms around excitedly. His wispy white hair swayed like tall grasses above his head. He beamed at the sight of them, but quickly recovered with a serious demeanor. “You’re late! Hurry! Hurry! We mustn’t keep the Council waiting. They are very anxious to hear your news.”
“I’m sure they are,” growled Kara.
She glimpsed his large toes and long yellow nails peeking out beneath his glimmering silver robes. They looked remarkably similar to Mr. Patterson’s toes. An ache rose inside her. Kara longed for her mortal days at the bookstore when none of her friends was being tortured by an evil stepsister.
The oracle arched a bushy eyebrow. He was silent for a moment, the blue in his eyes gleamed. “Well of course, why wouldn’t they be? Asmodeus has another daughter. Dreaded business this is, after what we’ve suffered—so many dead angels—so many
dead souls—such a massacre in Horizon.”
A wave of sadness washed over the oracle’s face. He turned his back to them and stared into space. His blue eyes glazed over suddenly, and then he recited in a monotone voice. “And out from the darkness she will be unleashed into the worlds…and only from the same darkness can she be undone…”
“What?” Kara spun around. “What did you just say, oracle?”
The oracle’s eyes widened. “What? Oh, nothing—don’t mind me—just prattling along in my old age. Can’t help the images I see though, from time to time. Dreaded business this is.” He bent down and picked at his toenails.
“Oracle?” David leaned forward.
The oracle turned his head and met David’s eyes. He smiled. “Hmm? Yes? What is it?”
“We’re supposed to be somewhere, remember?”
“We are? Oh, dear.” The oracle scratched his head. “What was I about to do? Dear me, I’ve forgotten again. Drat! Curse these visions. Always meddling with my mind.” The oracle stomped his foot and pouted. “Tell me boy, where was I going?”
David shook his head gently and laughed. “You were escorting us to the High Council…remember?”
The oracle’s arm shot up, and he pointed a finger in the air. “Yes! Yes! Of course. Quickly now, come along angels. The Council awaits you,” urged the oracle. He shifted his robe and straightened it with a hard tug. “It pains me to see the Council so distressed. Make haste! Make haste!” He turned his crystal around and rolled it towards the grey metal door at the end of the landing platform. His robes flapped against the wind, and he raced towards the door.
Kara sighed and followed the others in silence. David kept glancing worriedly over his shoulder. Once through the door, they trod down the long hallway decorated with vibrant tapestries and important looking portraits of previous officials. Kara hated that their eyes always seemed to accuse her of something before the fact. She shuddered and kept her eyes looking straight ahead and ignored their gloomy gazes.
Netherworld, Soul Guardians Book 4 Page 7