by Amanda Jones
“Mara, it’s me. It’s okay.” He pleaded, desperate for her fight-or-flight instinct to abate.
She struggled against him, her eyes flickered back and forth until they finally settled on his. The world disappeared and narrowed to that connection between them. B didn’t move a muscle; he knew if he did, he would lose her to the horror of the moment. As he held her gaze, her eyes changed, the red bled out slowly and her emerald green color broke through.
“B?” She said in a small voice.
He let out a relieved breath. “It’s me. You’re safe.” He felt her body relax beneath him.
“You came for me,” she whispered, reaching to cup his cheek.
B smiled at the woman he loved. “Always.”
Suddenly, she tensed. “Behind you!” she shouted.
B leapt off the bed, spinning to face an irate vampire. Plaster dust covered his head and shoulders making his glowing red eyes more menacing against the whiteness. His sharp fangs were fully distended as he growled low in his throat. Mara scrambled off the bed and huddled up in the corner of the room, clutching the bed sheet to her neck.
“He’s my sire. I can’t hurt him,” she shouted to B, her voice desperate.
“Run!” B yelled.
She jumped to her feet and scrambled across the bed as the other vampire lunged at her. He caught an arm just as B tackled him to the ground. Mara tumbled to the floor, crab-walking backwards to get out of the way. The vampire was faster, but B was driven by the primal need to protect Mara, giving him an unnatural boost of strength. B took hit after hit as the vampire pummelled his face and decided to bide his time until he could get the upper hand. Broken bones were nothing compared to ridding Mara of her psychotic sire. B felt his cheekbone crack as another punch connected with his face, the force of the hit propelling the vampire into position on top of him. Reaching up, B grabbed the vampire’s head between his hands and twisted with all his might. The awful tearing and cracking sounds echoed through the room as the vampire’s head separated from his body. A look of wide-eyed shock was frozen on his lifeless face. B closed his eyes as his upper body was painted red with the blood of the dead.
B opened his eyes and shoved the body off him and turned to face Mara. The horror on her face made his heart clench. She must be disgusted with him and with what he’d just done. He pulled himself up to sit and leaned against the bed, dropping his head in shame. One thought kept echoing through his mind…he’d lost her.
From out of nowhere, Mara launched herself into his arms and buried her head in his neck, heedless of the blood covering him.
“Thank you,” she sobbed, clutching his shoulders as her body shook.
B felt his body relax as he buried his face in her wild hair. “I thought I’d lost you, that I’d horrified you by killing him that way.”
Mara’s body quaked with uncontrollable laughter.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m laughing, but I can’t stop.” Her body shook. “You saved me. I promise he deserved what he got, and I’ve done much worse myself in the past.”
“Thank god.” B breathed in relief.
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose, making her smile.
“You’ve got blood all over yourself,” he said, grabbing a corner of the sheet from the bed to wipe her face carefully.
“So do you.” She reached up and wiped his cheek with the sleeve of her shirt.
A creak from down the hallway drew their attention.
B grabbed Mara’s hand. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Mara nodded. “Great idea.” She looked at the blood-soaked floor, her sire’s sightless eyes staring up at her in that perpetual expression of shock.
Linking hands, they got to their feet and made their way back towards the bedroom with the open window. B held onto Mara’s hand until she passed through the window when she had to let go to grasp the trellis for the climb down to freedom. B reached forward to grasp the sill and pull himself through, but came up short. Confused, he reached out again, and once again came up against an invisible force. He slammed his open palms against the force field, unable to break through the magic that was keeping him prisoner.
“What’s happening?” Mara asked from the other side of the window.
“I can’t get out. There’s some kind of spell blocking me.” He looked at her sadly. “Go, you need to get to the ground. Sergei’s down there.”
Mara shook her head. “I’m not leaving you here like this.”
“Yes, you are,” B said. “I need to know you’re safe.”
Suddenly B lurched forward, he clutched at his chest with an agonized expression on his face.
“B!” She shouted, reaching out reflexively to grab for him. Instead, she lost her grip and fell backwards off the trellis, her hands reaching out to him as she tumbled towards the lawn.
He was frozen, pain snaked its way through his veins as the world around him grew dimmer and dimmer. The last thing he saw before being sucked into a hellish world of visions was the shape shifter who’d shot him, his skin flickering and shifting into B’s form once again.
Chapter Thirty Four
Keir
Keir stood in the darkened backyard of his illegally appropriated mansion staring at the high privacy fences that encircled the lot. He’d tried to fight it, he should be in the house right now taking out those fucking fallen angels as they mounted their ridiculous rescue attempt, but something had drawn him into the yard, and he’d been powerless. His feet had taken him out the back door like they’d been set on auto-pilot. His mind railed against his body as he listened to the shrieks and crashes coming from the house. He needed to get back in there. The urge to kill was so strong but his damn legs just wouldn’t obey his command. Since his black soul had been thrust into this vessel, he had constantly felt like he was being pulled in two directions, and at some point he would simply tear apart at the seams. Throughout his existence he had used many vessels to carry out his work in the name of Satan, but this one was the most frustrating of all. It should have been perfect. Keir’s body was strong, powerful, and immortal, but somehow it was broken. The voices he heard, scratching at the inside of his brain like animals trying to claw their way out, must be connected to Keir’s original soul. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he could no longer deny it. Somehow a small remnant of the original soul remained locked inside this body with his. How was he meant to complete his mission when he’d been provided with a faulty vessel?
Giving in to his anger, Keir stared up at the midnight blackness above him and screamed. The primal noise ripped through the air. He screamed until his lungs burned and his vocal chords cracked with the pressure. Hunching forward, he spit a mouthful of blood out onto the grass, the coppery taste alternately disgusting him and tasting like the most expensive vintage. He was suddenly jerked upwards by a strange pulling sensation deep within his chest. He felt as though he were being torn in two, the dark part of his soul sinking down to the depths of Sheol below, the tiny remnant of Keir being drawn inexorably upwards towards some force he had yet to see.
He turned slowly and looked up at the sky. Two bright lights streaked downward, earthbound, like falling stars. His black soul immediately recognized enemy combatants. A tiny shred of light scratched away inside his head, desperate to connect with the luminous beings. For the first time since he’d taken possession of this body, both parts of him were in agreement, they both wanted to get to the incoming angels. With a frustrated growl, he attempted to move and was finally rewarded when his legs began to carry him back towards the house. He moved slowly at first, picking up speed as he moved, matching the trajectory of the angels’ descent. He had streaked across the yard, reaching the brick side of the home, grasped a trellis, and scaled the side of the house at superhuman speed, the leaves from the hanging ivy slapped at his face as he climbed. Anger drove him as he heaved himself onto the roof just as two bright balls of light exploded before him like bombs. Kei
r’s anger boiled over. He’d accounted for trapping fallen angels with his dark magic, but he had not accounted for heavenly angels. At the very least, he planned to take advantage of this opportunity and infect two of the Deity’s precious spawn with Satan’s blood. He touched his pocket reverently, the vial hidden within was deceptively small, but capable of catastrophic evil. His ultimate plan for the fallen had been foiled with the arrival of these unexpected guests, but there was no way in Sheol he was returning to Satan empty-handed.
Keir drew deep, connecting with the stores of dark magic that had been bestowed upon him by his master. He’d been warned to use his new powers sparingly — the energy required to wield satanic magic was far greater than light. His master had told him that his vessel would surely not be capable of maintaining such an output for long. Keir felt as if there was ever a time to dig deep and take that risk, it was then. He could only imagine the accolades if he managed to bring down the two angels that had emerged from the light before him. These were warrior angels. As they’d materialized from the majestic light that had surrounded them, whips of heavenly fire appeared in their hands. These angels were close to the Deity. With a self-satisfied evil smile, Keir connected to the dark magic that had been stored in his heart. He felt tendrils of evil unfurling, snaking out through his veins toward his left arm. Sparks of evil energy licked through his veins to the hand he held open, palm up. The black inverted pentagram with which he’d been branded burned with the fury of hellfire before erupting into a black and orange blaze. Keir felt the veins of his body burning from the inside out as the hellfire weapon took shape. The fiery scimitar he held sparked with orange flame and shone like black diamonds. Raising his head, he eyed his quarry. The two angels could not have looked more different — the general and the artist. The general stepped forward immediately, cracking his whip with authority. His features were sharp, like a bust chiselled from marble. His hair was cut short, military-style, and matched the steely, determined look in his eye. The dark-haired angel hung back and Keir dismissed him without a second glance, more interested in tangling with his friend.
“Come on, then. Let’s do this.” Keir hissed to the angel.
“No need to ask twice.” The angel replied, charging forward as he flicked his wrist and let the fiery tendrils of the whip fly towards Keir.
Keir dodged right, but not quickly enough to avoid the burning tip of the whip. He felt the sting across his cheek, followed by a burn that travelled deep into the tissue of his face, the heavenly fire seeking to burrow into his body and destroy the evil that riddled his heart.
He heard the other angel shout out. “Don’t kill him. Fight to maim!”
Keir was confused by the request but knew it would be much easier for him to achieve his goal if the angel was busy calibrating his attack to maim, rather than kill. He ducked and rolled towards the angel, slicing out with his scimitar as he righted himself. The angel leapt out of the way, avoiding injury. The two beings circled each other — striking out when they gained the advantage. The battle raged as they leapt back and forth across the roof, dodging and spinning, taking advantage of the changes in elevation to attack from above and below. Black and gold fire clashed as their weapons struck; sparks flew out into the dark sky.
* * * *
Bellerophon
Across the roof, Bellerophon watched the violent fighting with horror. Michael dodged and weaved as he expertly plied his whip to avoid hitting Keir’s neck, accidentally detaching his head and ending his immortal life. Keir…Bellerophon’s son. His duty was to vanquish the minions of Satan in all their forms, but he still held hope inside him that there was a remnant of his son within the evil being that wore his skin…his face. The precious few moments he’d had with his son before he’d been stolen away were not enough, certainly not enough to last an eternity. In the heavens and Sheol, there must be some way of reuniting Keir’s spirit with his body. Bellerophon couldn’t allow Keir to be killed without exhausting every other option. Intellectually, he knew that the kind thing to do may be allowing him to die, giving him eternal rest. As a father, he was just not capable of it. He was incapable of reconciling the quiet young man he’d met for the first time since infancy a short time ago with the being in front of him. Evil oozed from Keir’s pores and darkness surrounded him like a plague. The blood that had been drawn in battle was dark and sludgy, his teeth were bared in a snarl, and his eyes shone deadly red. This wasn’t his son…but it was.
Unable to watch the fighting any longer, Bellerophon turned his attention to the prayer he’d followed. He drew the energy from his heavenly whip back into himself, the pulse and tingle of the weapon’s energy reintegrating into his body. He cast his eyes around the roof of the mansion and saw dark magic encircled the place. A shadowy film clung to the walls of the home and shot upwards into the sky, effectively caging in any of the fallen that should dare to enter. He allowed the light energy to build inside his body; the build-up was like a battery recharging. He felt the energy within rising as sparks began to flicker along his skin. He was ready.
Bellerophon raised his arms and focused all of his energy on the barrier. “Lux es tenebris, bono malum superate, Deus vult! Light from darkness, overcome evil with good!” he shouted into the darkness.
A blinding flash of light shot from Bellerophon’s chest and engulfed the mansion. The power of his magic drove away the darkness. As the light faded, he found himself standing on a silent rooftop with Michael and his son. The air was still and the silence deafening. Keir’s weapon was gone, destroyed by the power of his father’s magic. He stood in place, swaying slightly in the lingering effects of the light magic. Time seemed to stand still as Bellerophon walked towards his son in the stillness. Keir raised his eyes to meet his father’s and Bellerophon sucked in a sharp breath. Keir’s bright red eyes flickered briefly before the fire within them was extinguished. He stared out at his father with one emerald eye and one blue…exactly like his twin sister Katia.
“Father?” Keir asked, his voice wavering as he stretched out his arm towards Bellerophon.
There was a muffled sound of glass cracking and Keir looked down at his pocket in horror. A black fog seeped out into the air, encircling Keir’s body. The fog swirled faster and faster, turning into a tornado on the rooftop. Soon, Keir was no longer visible as the black fog sucked itself back in and imploded into nowhere, taking Bellerophon’s son with it.
Chapter Thirty Five
Bataryal
The burning pain of the hellhound poison was driving B mad. The only thing that kept him from giving in to the hallucinations bombarding him was the driving need to get back to Mara, to make sure she’d gotten to safety. The poison moved through his body — acid eating away at his insides — as he stood frozen. Suddenly, a bright pulse of white light burned his retinas. The pain stopped, the hallucinations disappeared, and B found himself standing in a bedroom staring out the open window. A female scream rang out from the ground floor. Blinking his eyes as they adjusted from the flash, he stumbled down the hallway and crashed down the stairs, bouncing off of walls and corners as he went in a violent rush. His heart was in his mouth as he imagined that Mara had been recaptured by Keir and his followers.
B skidded into the ground floor hallway and stopped dead, blowing out a relieved breath at the scene before him. Sam was standing over Nyx’s unconscious body.
“What in the name of Sheol did you do to her?” he asked in confusion. “I mean, good for you, whatever it was….”
Sam just shook his head and threw up his hands. “Not a damned thing. There was a flash of light, my body unfroze from the hellhound dart, and she screamed and dropped like a ton of bricks.”
B raised an eyebrow. “Hmm.”
The two of them just stood there for minute, hands on hips, staring down at Nyx.
“I guess we should take her with us,” Sam said with a shrug. “We might be able to get some intel out of her or something.”
B nodded. “Agreed
. We can’t leave her here to wake up and run around raising havoc.”
“I’m not going to lie,” Sam said. “After my last tangle with Nyx, this defeat seems a tad…underwhelming.”
Sam reached down with his gloved hands and picked her up, heaving her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her long blond hair dangling down by his ass. B and Sam stood there for a minute staring at each other, and then headed out the front door.
As they emerged from the house into the daylight, Mara came streaking across the lawn to throw herself into B’s arms. His heart sang as he held on tight. He still didn’t know what he’d done in his life to get so lucky. He’d been part of a revolt in the heavens, been stripped of his wings, been a drug addict, and had carried out untold deeds in the service of Satan; but here was this beautiful, intelligent, talented woman who, for some insane reason, loved him. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face and figured it would likely be plastered on there for many centuries to come.
“You’re okay.” Mara’s voice was muffled as she spoke with her face mashed into his chest.
B pulled away from her slightly so he could see her face. “And so are you.” He smiled at her and he knew that all the love in his heart was glowing in his eyes for her to see.
Mara stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on him. B wrapped his arms around her and lifted her slightly, spinning her around in a circle before setting her back down gently. The sound of a throat clearing got their attention.
“Um, guys?” Sergei said, coming up in front of them and pointing upwards.
Everyone turned their gazes upwards. The sight was really something to see. Michael and Bellerophon were coasting down from the roof, their powerful wings outstretched as they caught the current of the air, and the sun shone behind them. Their wings tucked back slowly as they touched down gently on the lawn.