by A. J. Norris
“Excuse me? What did you just call them?” Julia growled, flaring her wings, the span of which was impressive. Her hands balled into fists and she stalked toward him.
Uriel’s eyes widened. He walked back, tripping over his own feet. Julia loomed over him on her tiptoes, beating her wings. “I didn’t say—”
Light shot out from her eyes. “You will treat them with respect or you won’t like what I’ll do to you!”
Uriel stayed on the ground, afraid to even breathe, keeping his head turned away from the blinding light.
Virgil smiled, looking at Raz. The other male beamed, all proud of his female. He shielded his face when Julia swiveled her head in his direction. “Julia…turn those off.”
“What? Oh, sorry. That bright, huh?”
Raz chuckled, “You could say that.” He hugged Julia to his chest.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Evita
Julia astounded Evita. She smiled at the once human female then looked at Uriel. “I’ll take you, but only because I’m afraid of what this one will do to you, if you don’t get out of her sight soon.”
Uriel hissed, “You certainly will not. You are mated.”
Evita marched over to the fallen angel.
“Do not touch me!”
She tossed her hands up. “All right. Fine. Virgil will do it.”
Virgil snatched him off the ground by his armpits. Although Uriel complained, he didn’t struggle against his hold. Virgil flapped his wings, creating gale winds, and took flight. Looking down, he called to Evita, “Are you coming?”
Once she joined him, they flew straight toward the portal to Arcadia. Evita held her breath as they slipped through the clear membrane. She hadn’t been home in almost two centuries. The sky was more beautiful than she remembered. She exhaled. Why had she been so scared? Her dress evaporated. No materials from Earth survived in their realm. Evita looked up at the males. Virgil still wore jeans but his shirt was gone. She’d have to remember to stock up on clothes while they were in Arcadia. Virgil clearly knew how to be prepared for anything.
“Where would you like to go?” Virgil asked Uriel.
“Place of—what’s that smell?”
Evita smelled it too. Nothing else smelled quite like burning flesh.
“Ow! Fuck!” Virgil shouted, patting his thigh. He had put the amulet in his pocket and the poison from Abaddon was reacting with the Arcadian atmosphere.
Uriel plummeted toward Evita, hollering. “You idiooooot!”
The amulet tumbled out of Virgil’s smoldering pocket. She dove after it.
“Let it drop!” he yelled. Evita continued back through the portal.
***
Virgil
Virgil snagged Uriel by the waist just before reaching the gateway to Earth. He wanted to let him drop but his conscience dictated otherwise. And Evie could handle herself.
“She might catch it before she falls,” Uriel said.
“And I might not drop you from here. Are you always this negative? Shut up.”
Uriel kept his mouth closed for a couple of minutes before saying anything, then said, “You asked me where I wanted to go and I’d like to go to the Place of Worship.”
No way. Virgil didn’t have time for that. He spotted a Guardian patrolling the area and whistled to get his attention.
“I need your help.”
The angel stopped, hovered, and pointed at his chest and mouthed Who me?.
“Yes, you!”
The angel swooped in and Virgil practically threw the now naked Uriel at him, then dove after Evie. When he breached the portal to Earth’s realm, clouds surrounded him, cutting his line of sight. He couldn’t see anything.
“Evie!”
If Abaddon has her, so help him Deus, he thought.
Virgil pushed headlong through the water vapor. He spotted Evie directly below him. Something extremely large and loud broke through the mist, thundering directly beneath her.
Oh, shit…
It was a jet. Deus, she was going to crash into the metal tube with wings. She snapped her wings out, slowing down enough for him to reach her in time.
Virgil slammed into her. She grunted and gasped. He clutched her tightly and flew them to a safer altitude and hovered. Her eyes watered. A breath hitched in the back of her throat.
“W-what was that?”
“An airplane,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“I didn’t get the amulet.”
“Evie, are you all right?”
“I couldn’t get it. The amulet could be anywhere.” Her voice shook.
“It’s okay. We’ll get it back, as long as you’re all right.”
“How?”
“Somehow.”
Her body quaked and he held her to his chest. “We’ll find it.” The problem was, he didn’t know how either.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Berus
Berus dropped onto the other side of the fence in the alley. He sought cover between the buildings from the uniformly dressed humans. Cops, as Lilyana called them. Air blew past him, lifting the longer hair on the top of his head. He tucked Jeremiah’s feather into the inside pocket of his leather jacket with…care.
Oh, Empress…
The smell of a female angel filled the air. He turned around and faced Dahlia.
She looked at him suspiciously. “What are you hiding in your coat?”
“I’m n-not hiding anything.”
“I saw you put something in your coat. Let me see it.”
“No,” he growled and stomped past her.
“Let. Me. See. It!” she said through clenched teeth.
“Fuck off.” Just what he needed, a vengeful angel with something to exploit. Dahlia’s wings flapped and he was shoved to the ground on his stomach. She dropped onto the center of his back, pinning him to the cement. Although she weighed less than him, she kneaded his spine with her bony knees. He cringed at her hot breath on the back of his neck and laughter in his ear. What was with this Warrior? She knew what he was, so why not just ash him? He’d underestimated her need of him, that’s why.
“You’re so weak.” Her venomous words meant to bait him into a fight only said how vulnerable she was.
In his peripheral vision, Berus saw the color of her wings had changed. Their vibrancy faded and several dark golden feathers fell to the ground. She yanked on his jacket’s collar. One of his shoulders popped as his arms were wrenched backward. He groaned, the pain temporarily blinding him. Dahlia planted her feet on the ground and flipped him over. She straddled his hips, trapping his working arm at his side. He cried out, his compromised arm flopping at the shoulder joint. Dahlia picked up his arm and dropped it. Berus hollered.
“So weak,” she drawled.
The Warrior searched the inside pocket of his jacket. Her hand emerged, curled around the feather, crushing the soft plume. Its silky smooth velvety touch was something he’d waited his whole life to feel, even when he didn’t know that was what he wanted. And the feather belonged to Jeremiah.
As a growl left his throat, his upper and lower canines grew longer and sharper. His top lip pulled up in a snarl, a sign of his anger and something Abaddon hadn’t done away with. The Ruler had left him with some dignity. Certainly, a surprise after everything he’d taken from him.
“Am I supposed to feel threatened by some teeth?” Dahlia said, leaning over close to his face. A mistake she’d regret.
“Fangs.” Berus rolled his head up and sunk his teeth into her cheek and she screamed. Her blood filled his mouth, the warm liquid satisfaction sliding down his throat, strengthening him. He had her and could easily break off a chunk of her flesh. The pressure on his hips decreased; she wanted away from him. He retracted his fangs just enough for her to escape. The tips grazed her skin when she jumped to her feet.
“Motherfucker!” Dahlia held a hand to her face.
Berus sprung off the cement. His shoulder burned. D
espite his useless arm, he readied for an attack. She prowled around, wings flared, except instead of jumping him, she rattled off a set of numbers and two words. What was that supposed to mean? The angel disappeared before he had a chance to ask.
***
Dahlia
The address Dahlia gave Berus ought to keep him occupied for a while. First he had to figure out what she meant. She teleported to another alley knowing the demon likely wouldn’t follow her. She dabbed her cheek with some conjured gauze. The demon had bitten her. The bleeding stopped and she tossed the pad in a dumpster near a back door of a building.
She paced back and forth as if the buildings on either side of her were a cage, thinking about how best to solve the amulet problem. Although she’d easily teleported to the old cemetery where she found Evita and Virgil, they had called in help shortly after her arrival. The amulet had been where her Warrior sister left it, in the hands of Uriel. There was no telling where the pendant wound up. Dahlia was willing to bet the piece had been taken to Max the Healer for disposal. She hadn’t stuck around to find out if her assumption was correct, for fear of detection. Virgil had already sensed her and she was out numbered.
Dahlia glanced heavenward and groaned. Abaddon wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the amulet unless someone wore it, but would he be able to tell her if it had been destroyed yet? The Taint must have a signature.
“Abaddon,” she called.
A wavy ring formed and the Devil poked his head out into the alley. The instant he breached Earth’s realm the transformation into his beast form started. His horns grew longer and the skin color changed. Dahlia looked past him into Netherworld. The place looked all right. A messy bed sat behind him with a bare-assed female lying on it. Ew. Never mind, she had a tail.
“What do you need?” he asked, sighing.
“Could you possibly tell me if you sense the amulet?”
He closed his eyes and groaned. “Why, do you think it’s been destroyed?”
“Maybe. I dunno.”
“But you have reason to believe it has.” He cocked his head. “Hmm. It does still exist. No one—”
“But?”
“Will you fucking let me finish? No one wears it at this time.”
“Is it close by?”
“I can only tell you that when someone is wearing it!”
“Like if they’re wearing it around their neck or can they hold it in their hand?”
“Neck. Close to the heart.”
“That’s stupid.”
“I don’t make the rules,” he grumbled.
“Then who does? What do you mean?”
“Goodbye, Dahlia.” Abaddon stepped back from the portal and morphed into his non-beast form.
“Wait. You said you still feel it, right?”
“Oh, how I hate repeating myself.”
Dahlia sneered. This was what she knew: the amulet hadn’t been destroyed; no one wore it; and, Abaddon couldn’t track where it went. Evita either still had it or had lost it. Taking the trinket to Max would have been the first thing done. Her Warrior sister always did the right thing. She thought about asking if Abaddon had a spare amulet.
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Not for you, so I suggest you find the one you think is lost.”
“Did you just read my—”
“It isn’t hard to figure out what’s going on with all your questions, Dahl.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I can call you anything I please. And by the way, your wings look like shit,” he said as the portal collapsed.
“They do…not.” She peered down her side.
What is he talking about?
They looked fin—shit, shit, shit. There was a bald patch on the inside of her right wing the size of a baseball. Oh, why was she worried? This was only the natural molting that occurred every so often. New feathers would grow in soon.
Dahlia couldn’t think about this right now. How was she going to lure Evita into a fight without an amulet to dangle over her head? What the Netherworld was she talking about? She snapped her fingers when the perfect idea came to her. It was brilliant. Dahlia was aware of what Abaddon’s amulets looked like. She held out her palm. A tiny eddy swirled in her hand, gathering momentum. Metal objects took more time to manifest, more concentration. Titanium particles spun, finding each other and bonding together. A flat disk formed, spinning on its edge. She closed her palm, willing the Devil’s markings into the metal. The Warrior revealed the fake amulet and examined her creation.
Not bad.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Virgil
Virgil held Evie in his arms all the way to Eternity. They landed on the roof. Even though her feet were on solid footing, she clung to him with her head on his chest. He kept his arms around her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Whatever for?” He laid his cheek on top of her head.
“Not letting the airplane get me. And helping me do the right thing. I’m sorry I couldn’t get the amulet.”
“It was my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing it into Arcadia.”
“I didn’t think about it either.”
“Still my fault, though.”
“O…kay,” she said in the middle of a yawn.
He chuckled. “You’re not going to argue with me?”
“I did a little, but you were the one who took the amulet into our world,” she teased. “Where are we?” She yawned again.
“This place houses a time portal to Earth and an angel communal.”
“Do they have beds?”
“Yes. There are some rooms, but I thought we could go home and collect ourselves.”
“Good idea.”
He took her hand and led her to the elevator, although he would have preferred holding her soft skin flush against his body longer. Forever. Her eyes lit when she saw the button for the basement hangout. Sparkling white liquid swirled around inside it. When the car lurched before beginning its descent, she grabbed onto his arm. “What was that?”
“Relax, it’s nothing. We’re going down.” Virgil sucked in a breath. He wanted to be going down…between her legs. He pulled her closer again and kissed her neck. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
“Or your parts to yourself,” she said against his ear.
The elevator dinged. Their ride stopped at the basement. He cleared his throat and moved behind her. His excitement was still evident. They both curled their wings around themselves and stepped into the lobby area. Gregory greeted them. Virgil nodded as they went past the bamboo plants.
“Oh, wow,” Evie said. Virgil smiled. Eternity was new to her because the place didn’t exist the way she remembered. She ran to the long buffet table and scanned all the food. Then she flitted toward the portal doors, stopping along the brick path, feeling the backs of the purple chairs and sofas. Evie looked in his direction, beaming from ear-to-ear. She took a deep breath. “This is it.”
“Yes, my love. The doors lead home.” Virgil reached for the handle of the double doors and paused. “Ready?”
“Yes, of course. I dunno what my problem was before. Nerves I guess.” She shrugged.
Together they pushed the wooden panels open.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Abaddon
What in the world was Dahlia doing? Aba turned around. The female in his bed was beautiful if you didn’t mind the tail. Suzie had annoyed him earlier, so he’d chosen a different harem member to fornicate with and to prove a point to Suzie. She was just one among dozens. He was afraid of Suzie getting too used to him. Females formed attachments with males.
“Yuk,” he muttered.
The tailed female sat up and yawned. “Did we have sex?” she asked.
He snorted under his breath. “Do you think we did?”
They hadn’t. But he wanted the harem to believe that they had. She fell asleep after a few kisses. Oh, all right, he put her out with the touch of his hand to her
forehead. He wasn’t proud of himself.
“Oh, yes,” she puffed out her chest. “Everything is sore.”
Aba pinched his lips to keep from laughing. If she was sore, it wasn’t from him. He felt like pushing her and himself into a pool of lava. Murder-suicide sounded fantastic. Three amulets remained. One of which was lost, per Dahlia. He wasn’t an idiot. Another was with some bat-shit crazy lunatic that he swore had multiple personality disorder and thought she was a witch. He’d visited her once, after she had a potion brewing accident, but wound up saving her life instead of taking her to Netherworld. He never recovered the amulet either. What a fucking waste. The last one he considered special, a reserve amulet, only to be used in an emergency. Aba knew exactly where it was too. Safe. And in a place no one would think to look.
“I shall take you again.” He climbed into bed and the female slithered up beside him.
She laid on her back and spread her legs. He cupped her sex because, after all, he wasn’t perfect. He warred with himself.
You don’t want this. But I do. So much.
Aba pressed his lips to her forehead and she conked out. He couldn’t afford any distractions with his future this uncertain.
***
Berus
Berus spat the Warrior’s blood out of his mouth. She was Tainted. Her skin tasted sweet. The feather loss made sense now.
He repeated what Dahlia told him, unsure of its meaning. Fortunately, he remembered where Lilyana lived. He figured she went there because he would go home right now if he could. His shoulder hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. It even hurt to breathe. He tottered toward the mouth of the alley, clutching his arm to his stomach.
A police car made its way up the street. Unfortunately, his current haircut made him recognizable, even from a distance. The lights and siren turned on and the vehicle sped toward him. Other cars slowed and made room for the police. He yanked open a glass door, ducking inside. Chimes rang above his head. Bright overhead lights greeted him. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the glare. Berus ran between long tall rows of bottles, boxes, and clear packages of food, he guessed, by the smell. He set his jaw, steeling himself against the agony of his injury.