Darkness Wanes

by Susan Illene

  O’Connell was supposed to be good at that sort of thing. Enough that Lucas had willingly worked with him and the agency before when they took down Melena’s father’s group a few months back. The combination of government and supernatural assets had been surprisingly effective in the raid. Lucas’ side had to make some compromises, such as allowing DHS to take all the prisoners they captured, but it was better they fed and housed them, anyway.

  The pain finally passed enough for him to open his eyes. He found a secretary sitting at her desk in the austere reception area, typing on her keyboard. Her blond hair was cut to just below her ears, her makeup was artfully applied, and she wore a black pantsuit with a red blouse. Beyond her, there was a hallway leading to several other offices. Lucas overheard O’Connell inside one of them talking on the phone.

  The secretary looked away from her computer screen. Her eyes scanned Lucas up and down in a way that made him think Melena would kill the woman if she was there right now. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine how entertaining that would be to watch before he remembered he had more important things to do—such as having a confrontation with her boss.

  “I wondered if you’d make it through,” she said, then pointed a finger at hm. “But you will be paying for that door.”

  Lucas stepped in front of her desk and rested his palms on top of it. “I’ll consider it, but how is it that you aren’t more concerned over my getting past your little wards?”

  She moistened her lips. “I know who you are.”

  It wouldn’t surprise him if DHS had a file on him and she’d snuck a peek at it. “I need to speak to O’Connell.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll need to schedule an appointment to see him.” She glanced back at the hall behind her. “He’s rather busy today.”

  “He’s not too busy for me.”

  Before she could argue, he marched down the hall to the agent’s office. It was nearly as austere as the reception area. There was only his desk with a computer on top, a few chairs, and a fake tree in the corner. The agent stood next to the window, looking out as he spoke into a wireless earpiece. His short black hair was well groomed and he wore a tasteful business suit. Lucas couldn’t fault him on his professional appearance, but he did wish the man wouldn’t wear enough cologne to choke anyone with a sensitive nose.

  O’Connell turned and his eyes rounded when he saw Lucas standing four feet away from him. He’d grown too complacent behind his protective ward. Perhaps Lucas should have come sooner to remind the agent he was never truly safe.

  “I’m going to have to call you back,” O’Connell said, hitting a button to end the conversation.

  “Busy?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes.” The DHS agent straightened his shoulders, pushing past his initial surprise. “For one thing, I’ve been looking for Melena. None of my sources have been able to locate her and we’re worried. I suppose you still won’t tell me where she is.”

  Lucas wasn’t fooled by the man’s false concern. He might have served with her while they were in the army, but she’d been adamant that they were never friends. In fact, her description of O’Connell had been that he was arrogant and cocky. It was a rather accurate assessment.

  “Far out of your reach.” Lucas would have loved to send the agency to go get her if he’d had a way to open the Purgatory portal. That would have made for an interesting mission.

  “Then why are you here? I told you when you called last week that the prisoners are still in our facilities. There’s nothing else to discuss.”

  “I have information to share with you.”

  “Until you bring Melena to this office, I don’t want to hear about anything else,” O’Connell said, leaning down to shuffle some paperwork on his desk.

  “There is a cult forming. The leader is Jerome’s missing son,” Lucas informed him. The agent couldn’t ignore that kind of information no matter how much he pretended otherwise.

  O’Connell stiffened. “I suspect that is more your problem than mine. If he’s anything like his father and older brother, he’ll target supernaturals. I’m more worried about humans.”

  “Ah, but you should be concerned.” Lucas gave him a grim smile. “He’s recruiting humans to help him attack vampires and werewolves. How many of your race do you think will die attempting to fight beings stronger than them?”

  That much was true, even if Lucas left out the details that worried him the most. Patrick had known a lot more about the cult than he’d let on in front of Emily—such as Grant’s plot to strike vampires during the day when they were vulnerable. He was also giving away many of the supernaturals’ weaknesses. It would only take one sensor to track sups and perhaps half a dozen humans with weapons backing them up to do a great deal of damage. Multiply that by at least one group per city and it would be the start of another supernatural war, especially if the angels stepped in to help.

  O’Connell worked his jaw. “There have been no reported attacks.”

  “There will be.” Lucas gave him a level look. “The peace spell the angels put in place is weakening. At most, we’ve got a week before it fails altogether. I can promise you the attacks will begin by then.”

  Silence. Lucas waited patiently for the agent to think it over.

  “We’ll take that into consideration,” he said with a sigh. “If you’ve got anything more to offer, I’ll be happy to take it, but the only person I’ll work with is Melena.”

  Lucas considered breaking the man’s limbs to motivate him. It was rather tempting, but it wouldn’t help matters if the agent died in the process. He had to gain the cooperation of someone with government resources. As much as Lucas hated to do it, he had to tell O’Connell the truth. He needed him to understand the circumstances.

  “Melena is currently confined in Purgatory. She isn’t due to be released for at least a week.” Lucas stared hard at the agent. “This is not information I want shared with anyone.”

  O’Connell stopped shuffling papers. “What do you mean she’s confined in Purgatory?”

  “A select group of supernaturals are susceptible to angelic law. When she became immortal, she fell under their jurisdiction. Events from several months ago were not exactly sanctioned and punishment was doled out to many of us. It was decreed that she must serve a three-month sentence in Purgatory.” Lucas didn’t like having to explain, but at least it would save Melena the trouble. She’d have enough difficulty adjusting when she got out without having to pacify O’Connell.

  The agent cleared his throat. “Is it similar to a human prison?”

  “It is far worse than that,” Lucas said in a grave tone. He needed to emphasize Melena’s situation if O’Connell was to have any understanding of her frame of mind when she got out. “The environment is extreme enough that no human could survive there for more than a few minutes before they’d succumb to extreme temperatures and lack of oxygen. The guards are physically abusive to the prisoners and they don’t feed them well. She’ll need time to recover when she returns.”

  The agent frowned. “Where is this place?”

  “On another plane of existence, or perhaps another part of the universe, it’s difficult to say.” Considering how little time it took to get there, Lucas had never put much thought into it.

  “What did she do to end up there?”

  Lucas gave him a hard look. “She didn’t break any human laws, if that is what you are worried about.”

  O’Connell settled into his chair. “I’ll still need her back in the office as soon as possible. The agency won’t sanction me working with you. She has a past we can track and she has proven her loyalty to this country through her military service. You must understand you are an unknown entity. There’s not much I can do to change that.”

  Lucas would feel the same way in their place, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. This was a situation that needed to be acted on now.

  “There is a website you need to examine. Melena’s brother, Grant, is the leader of t
he group running it. There isn’t a lot of information on there, but it’s a start.” Emily’s father had only managed to scratch the surface, but he did promise to keep looking for more.

  “Write it down. I’ll check the site out and see if it’s traceable, but I can’t share what I learn with you—only Melena.” O’Connell’s expression turned apologetic. “I understand she won’t be in the best shape when she returns, but she’s a strong woman. I’m certain she’ll recover quickly.”

  Lucas hoped he was right. It was difficult to predict how her stay in Purgatory would affect her. He’d only caught infrequent glimpses of her there when she was in pain, but there were ways to make someone suffer without causing them severe bodily harm.

  “I’ll send her to you as soon as she’s ready,” Lucas said, hoping it wouldn’t take long.

  Chapter Seven

  Melena

  They served us beef stew again. It had become something of a sick joke among the prisoners. We’d fought hard for better food and thought we’d won the first time they gave it to us. The rich aroma alone had us clinging to the bars of our cells, waiting for the steaming bowls to reach us. I was fairly certain a few people even drooled a little. The stew had chunks of beef, carrots, potatoes, corn, and tomatoes. Far better than the flavorless gruel we’d been forced to eat up until then.

  Within days, our victory feast turned to ashes in our mouths. They continued serving the same meal ever since, except the quality had declined over the past few weeks. The bowl I received today looked and smelled as if it had been heating in the pot for a week or more. The broth had boiled away, leaving nothing except a brownish mush. I poked my wooden spoon into it and struck a chunk of burned beef. My stomach turned. It was going to be like chewing on leather, but I had to eat, or I’d only get weaker. I braved a bite. The salt content must have been worse than the Dead Sea. I gagged my way through half of it before I couldn’t stand it anymore and shoved the bowl away.

  “Tired of the stew?” Eli asked from the cell next to mine.

  “A rat would probably taste better—if they had them here,” I said, leaning against the stone wall dividing us.

  “It’s almost over. Soon we’ll be able to eat whatever we want and this will be behind us. You must try to remain positive.”

  I snorted. Was that the best the psychologist could do for a pep talk? “Easy for you to say. At least they give you bread with your meals.”

  “That’s because I don’t fight them every chance I get.”

  “I can’t help it.” I knocked my head against the wall. “Most of the guardians here are sadistic fools who need someone to stand up to them.”

  He sighed. “You run at a problem like a bull in a china shop. A little subtlety would go a long way.”

  “Yeah? And exactly how much have you accomplished here?” I asked.

  “I’ve helped you, haven’t I?”

  “Right,” I muttered under my breath. It was a waste of breath talking to him. If I had anything better to do, I’d have ignored him, but the current guard on duty didn’t care if we talked. It was a rare chance to get out of my own head for a little while and distract myself from thoughts of Lucas and Emily. Thinking of them put me in a dark place full of despair. I tried to save those emotions for solitary where no one else could see the torment of their absence tearing through me.

  “Why do you bother speaking to her?” Sabelle asked Eli. The blond nephilim who hated me so much was in one of the cells across from us and could watch us both from her vantage point. “The sensor still thinks too much like a human and doesn’t understand our world.”

  “Which is why I’m trying to help her,” he replied.

  “I have no idea what Lucas sees in her.” She glared at me through golden eyes that had seen more than a thousand years of living. “She’s far more trouble than she’s worth.”

  “Melena is honorable. You’d do well to learn from her,” Eli replied in a diplomatic tone.

  I didn’t know Sabelle well enough to say if she was honorable or not, but she definitely had a mean streak when it came to sensors. For a while, I couldn’t figure out why she directed so much venom my way. It was hard enough being in a place where the guards hated me, but having most of my prison mates look at me with malice and distrust made it even worse.

  Then one day Eli explained she’d lost her nephilim mate during the supernatural war. A sensor had called on an archangel to kill him. The severing of their mystical connection—similar to what Lucas and I had—nearly broke her. Eli said she hid herself away for decades until she managed to get a hold of her grief. Since hearing her story, I’d tried to be patient with her, but she didn’t make it easy.

  “A woman like her can’t possibly have honor,” Sabelle sneered.

  “Don’t go there,” I said, meeting her eyes. “We could always discuss your behavior toward the guards—who should be our enemy.”

  Sabelle had no problem sucking up to them. She’d do whatever it took to make her life a little more comfortable. I couldn’t say I hadn’t considered it, but not if it meant being friendly to the bastards who enjoyed dumping ice water on us in the mornings. Sabelle had befriended two of the worst. How she’d managed it, I’d never know.

  “Enemy?” a nephilim named Udo said with indignation. “You and all your kind are the enemy. It is the sensors who curry the archangels’ favor. Out of all of us, you’ve committed the most crimes, yet your sentence is somehow no worse than ours. Don’t bother to act like you’re one of us because you’ll never be.”

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Eli said firmly. “She’s proven herself more than once and has never betrayed our kind. Leave her alone.”

  Udo stepped up to the bars of his prison cell and glared my way. He reminded me of a professional wrestler with his shaved head and bulging muscles. I was rather certain he could break me in half, given the chance.

  “If she was truly useful,” he said, his deep voice echoing through the tunnel, “Ariel wouldn’t have fallen and Yerik wouldn’t be locked away on some distant planet. As far as I’m concerned, she’s done more harm than good.”

  I winced. Guilt had been eating away at me for months over Ariel. She was the kindest archangel I knew and she’d been cast down to Hell for helping supernaturals. I wasn’t as much a fan of Yerik—a daimoun born from an unsanctioned union between a demon and angel—but he had been trying to do the right thing in his own way. Without his help, we couldn’t have freed the nerou. I could only imagine how his absence affected his wife and newly reunited nerou son he left behind. They were the ones I felt bad about.

  Maybe if I’d tried a little harder, I could have at least negotiated a lighter sentence for them. I hoped to rectify that after I got out of Purgatory, but I couldn’t tell these nephilim my plans without risking exposure. It was dangerous enough discussing the first step with Bartol.

  “She saved Yerik’s wife from dying and helped free the nerou,” Eli pointed out. “That should count for something.”

  My senses perked up and I stiffened. “Guards are coming. About a dozen of them.”

  Everyone grew silent. Most of them didn’t like me, but they’d learned to listen to my warnings. Some of the nephilim had contraband in their cells. I caught two of them across the tunnel stuffing items under their pallets as soon as I raised the alert. One guy had a homemade knife and another a small locket he’d managed to keep despite all our personal possessions being confiscated. I didn’t want to know how he managed that, considering we’d lost our clothes as well.

  “A dozen? Why would that many guards come now?” I heard someone down the row ask.

  “Good question,” another answered, his tone reflecting the nervous tension rising among us.

  We’d gotten used to the daily pattern. It was almost time for us to bed down for the night and it only took two guards to collect our food bowls. Usually, we didn’t see a large contingent except when coming or going to the mines.

  They appeared around the bend
in the tunnel and marched toward us, spreading out. One guard stopped in front of every cell door with the exception of mine and Bartol’s. Their expressions were solemn. Fear and confusion filled the air as they began yanking prisoners out.

  “What’s going on?” someone asked. I couldn’t see the speaker from my vantage point.

  “We must prepare you for release. You’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  Fear turned into excitement. No one had been certain exactly when our sentences ended, but most thought it would be at least a few more days. The guardians had preferred to keep us in the dark on the specifics—one more way to torture us.

  After hearing the news, the nephilim didn’t need any encouragement to exit their cells or don their shackles. Bartol and I exchanged worried glances as we continued to be ignored. It was rather clear we weren’t leaving. I pressed my face against the bars and watched the prisoners line up along the tunnel. They were getting out sooner than expected, but why wasn’t I joining them? Or Bartol? His sentence was near the end as well.

  I caught one of the guard’s eyes. “What about Bartol and me?”

  “You’re not due to get out for a few more days,” he said, locking the last prisoner to the chain they’d formed.

  Eli turned from his position at the end of the line. “We arrived before you, but don’t worry—I’m sure you’ll be out soon. I’ll let Lucas know how you’re doing.”

  “Thanks.” I gave him a weak smile. “Tell him I’m okay.”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  “Quiet back there!” Dannia yelled at us. She’d just arrived and scowled at the proceedings. It probably drove her crazy to have to release so many prisoners at once.

  I stepped away from the bars and watched the procession of nephilim march down the tunnel. The guards muttered something about taking them to the bathing chamber to get cleaned up. This was a lot more organized than what Lucas had said about his time here. Either the guardians preferred to release their prisoners looking well, or Remiel gave the order. On the rare occasion the archangel came to Purgatory, he seemed to avoid me. I only heard about his instructions after the fact.