by Amy Vansant
Black eyes stared down at her through holes in the creature’s flesh mask.
She leapt to escape but he grabbed her; a slab of flesh falling from his chest to the wet tile with a sickening slap. Beneath his human costume a semi-transparent kohl substance throbbed, as if the creature were a shadow wearing Michael’s skin.
She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but his arms were wrapping around her, like a snake. He wiped away the rest of his façade, the flesh falling in wet globs to the ground. Anne’s gaze fell briefly to the mask of Michael’s face lying in her shower. She could see now that it wasn’t Michael’s face at all, but that of a man she didn’t recognize. The creature had skinned another human and used his face as a base for creating the likeness of Michael. Either he had manipulated the structure of the skin or her perception of it. Either way, she’d been fooled for too long.
Anne freed one arm preparing to stab the monster, just as his other arm snapped forward and grabbed her wrist. Unable to push forward she threw her arm to the side, shattering the shower door.
Chapter Nineteen
Leo sat on the edge of the bed. He felt nauseated. Again. Since returning from Chaos, something didn’t feel right. It felt as if, as if his skin was too tight for his body. It was like a voice in his head kept whispering something isn’t right. That voice threw his trademark confidence into a maelstrom of insecurities.
Leo scratched at his chest, starting at his throat and raking down to his stomach. His vision blurred and he held his hand out before him, trying to focus on it.
Are my fingers too long?
He closed his eyes and reopened.
His fingers were definitely growing. Something was pulling him from the inside, trying to turn him inside out.
The discomfort turned to pain. He opened his mouth to call for Anne, but no sound escaped.
He rolled sideways on the bed and watched, helpless, as his body pulled away from itself, like a splitting cell. He writhed and fell to his knees on the floor.
The pain stopped.
Panting, he rolled back to sit on his heels and found himself staring at a man sitting cross-legged on the bed.
The man was himself.
The shaggy blond hair, the rugged good looks, the massive musculature. He’d know himself anywhere.
Leo blinked, and the vision changed into that of a woman.
Wrapped in a loose Greek tunic, with dark hair spilling down her shoulders and brushing the tips of her breasts, the woman peered down at him with teal eyes.
I’ve seen her before.
“Who are you?” he croaked, surprised to find his voice had returned.
“First, be calm. I won’t hurt you. As for what you see, I believe I am a noble woman from Athens. Circa nineteen seventy-five?”
He scowled. “Nineteen seventy-five?”
“You met me at a party. A...” she looked up, as if searching for the word. “A toga party?”
“A toga—” Leo’s confusion cleared as fast as the smile on his face spread. He recognized her now. She was a woman he’d met at a party. “Not Athens, Greece. I met you in Athens, Georgia. But, how is that possible? You’d be in your sixties now.”
“I took a favorite image from your memory to make you feel more comfortable.”
Leo laughed. “And you started out as myself.”
“I sensed immediately that you didn’t find that form as reassuring as I imagined you would.”
He scowled. “Should I call for help? Should I be worried? You’re not a Cherub. I don’t know what you are. You don’t feel threatening.”
“I’m not.”
“Am I going crazy? Am I imagining you?”
“No. I’m real. My true form isn’t something you could comprehend. If you like, I’ll keep this.”
“Works for me. Do you have a name?”
“Taksi. With a k.”
“Sounds Greek. No wonder you picked that memory. You’re not an Angelus or a human or a Sentinel.”
“No.”
“So you are a figment of my imagination.”
“No. Though I should ask, why aren’t you trying to kill me?”
“What? Why? You just said you weren’t a threat.”
“I’m not, but you don’t know me. I’m utterly alien to you. Shouldn’t you defend yourself?”
“I’m confused. Are you saying you are going to attack me?”
“No. But I witnessed countless battles in your memory. You clearly have a temper.” Taksi put a hand on each of her breasts, cupping them and bouncing them in her palms. “It’s the breasts, isn’t it? You haven’t taken your eyes off them.”
Leo looked away. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“I find it curious that your aggressive tendencies have completely evaporated in the presence of a beautiful woman.”
“And a modest one at that.”
“How can I be immodest? This isn’t even my body.”
Leo refocused on her and the woman leaned forward, moving across the bed toward him like a cat. Her breasts hung in her loose-fitting toga and he could see the soft pink tip of one. Hypnotized, he forced himself to look away. “Cut it out. Now you’re just showing off.”
She laughed and sat back.
“What are you?”
“I’m a player.”
He snorted a laugh. “Aren’t we all.”
“I suppose that is true.”
“What sort of player are you?”
Taksi bit her lip and looked askance. “I have to be careful here. If I tell you too much I’ll be penalized. Really, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all.”
“Just hit the highlights.”
“All right. Casso and I have been playing with Earth for a very long time. I’ve been winning for a very long time.”
“Who’s Casso?”
“Uh, guess?”
“Your husband? Lover? Brother?”
“Okay, yes! You could think of him as my brother. We play a game. Like your chess. What do you need to play chess?”
She looked at him, her eyes held wide, encouraging him to play along.
“A board. Chess pieces—”
“Yes! What sort of pieces?”
“You mean, name them all? Kings, Queens, rooks, bishops—”
“More generally.”
“More, you mean white and black? Light and dark?”
Taksi began to nod so vehemently Leo thought she might rattle her head from her spine. His jaw fell.
“Angeli and Cherubim!”
She squealed and pointed at him. He realized she’d drawn him into a game of charades. She wasn’t allowed to tell him things, but she could nod to his comments and questions.
“You use us to play games? And you, you play with the Angeli? He’s Cherubim?”
She smiled.
“So are you...God?”
Taksi laughed. “To you, perhaps.”
“What does that mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Casso doesn’t win. He’s cheating; trying to flip the game board like a petulant child.”
“What happens to the Angeli if he does that?”
“Can’t say.”
Leo crossed his arms, resting them on his knees. “I have to tell you: it’s a little disturbing how lightly you two take our existence.”
Taksi rolled forward on her stomach and peered at him from the end of the bed. The green-blue of her eyes swirled and rolled like the sea. “Do you think twice before you swat a mosquito?” She reached out and tapped him on the tip of his nose with a long, manicured finger.
Leo’s lip curled and he jerked his head away from her touch.
“Why are you here? What are you talking to me for?”
“I needed to stretch my legs. You were a fine vessel for leaving Chaos but I don’t need you anymore. The balance of energy is still in my favor. I don’t need to cling to you.”
“Did you just call me a vessel? Are you saying you rode me back to Earth? In
side of me? All this time?”
Taksi nodded.
Leo wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I like that. You might be the taxi but I’m the one being driven about.”
She laughed and rolled off the bed to her feet. “A play on words. I understand. My name has a k in it though, don’t forget.”
“Where are you going? Are you going to help us?”
Taksi flicked her hand as if to dismiss his comment. “Play hard, Leo. I’ve been proud of all of you thus far. You may not get a second chance—” She cut short, her focus snapping to the wall that separated the guest room from Anne’s. Her expression registered concern.
“What is it?” Leo looked at the wall and realized Anne’s room lay on the other side. “Is it Anne?”
He heard glass shatter. When he looked back, Taksi was gone.
Chapter Twenty
Anne felt like she was trapped in a dream, her consciousness swirling, with only tiny bursts of familiarity rising from the tempest. A familiar face, one of Michael’s fancy antique boxes, a book cover, a favorite dog, a snippet of a recurring dream; each link to her life a fleeting connection to normality until, once more, she felt pulled back into the depths.
I must be dead.
The pain gave her hope. Feeling the familiar ache of energy drain, she knew she couldn’t be dead.
Someone was trying to kill her, but she wasn’t dead.
She protected her desire to live like a precious seed and willed her wrath to grow. Unable to discern the siphoning point of contact, she flared her swords and did her best to create an ever-moving shield around her body.
She felt a small burst of energy return to her.
She’d hit pay-dirt.
Anne zeroed in on the spot from which she’d drawn the energy, and the invisible enemy syphoning her rebuffed with a powerful blast of energy. Her connection to it snapped and she flew back, eyes blinded by a blur of light and color. It felt as though she would never land.
My shower is not this big.
Slamming against a wall came as a relief.
Anne pressed her cheek against the cool marble until the world came into focus.
She was in Angeli Headquarters, crouched in the great hall, naked and wet, strawberry blonde locks straggled across her shoulders.
A cacophony of sounds filled the room; Angeli screaming to their comrades. Scores of voices rose and fell together, an acoustic tornado of urgency.
Anne rolled to place her back against the wall and as the battle swam into view.
The Angeli were at war.
The shadow creature who’d posed as Michael stood on the opposite side of the room, his body spread like a black sail, creating a pulsating wall of darkness. Several Angeli ran toward him as a mob of people burst from his shadows, surging forward to meet the oncoming angels. Tackling in groups–two or three to an angel–the shadow’s army tore at the Angeli like rabid dogs and pulled them to the floor even as their brilliant blue wings unfurled.
Sentinels. Somehow the shadow creature had used her; perhaps pulled the location of Angeli Headquarters from her mind? She saw his name glowing on his arm.
Nyx.
The shadow is a Cherub.
One of the Cherub’s Sentinels ran toward her and stopped, feet away, staring at her with white eyes, centers veined with rust. His slack expression remained unchanging as he clumsily groped at her aura with his own before returning to the fray.
The Sentinels were here to kill angels. He had no time for a rival Sentinel.
Anne stood, preparing to engage Nyx, only to find he’d disappeared. Before she could locate him, a flame-haired Angelus materialized in the center of the melee, her enormous wings spread on either side. Anne recognized her immediately.
Boudica.
Boudica’s wings rolled, braiding themselves down her arms, reappearing as giant broad swords of blue light in her hands. She swung with her right and cut one of the Sentinels in two as he passed, his upper half continuing to spin forward as his legs collapsed.
The upper half slid to a halt and it reached out like a swimmer, dragging itself back toward the legs lying at Boudica’s feet. A massive streak of blood followed.
Anne had always wondered if she could survive a catastrophic injury.
Now she wished she didn’t know.
I’m a glorified zombie.
Boudica dispatched another Cherub in a more traditional fashion, stabbing her left sword into a middle-aged man’s hip and draining him until he turned to dust. The crawling upper half of the severed Sentinel caught her attention and without averting her gaze from battle, she stabbed her right sword into the fumbling torso, draining the energy from it until both it and its missing legs disintegrated.
“Anne!”
Anne heard Con’s voice and found him in the crowd, not far from Boudica. A Sentinel ran toward him and Con twisted his body to slam a fist into his jaw. Anne heard the man’s mandible crack and he flew sideways to the ground, where a passing Angelus snapped him into his wings and absorbed his energy before moving on.
Con ran to Anne, his gaze sweeping her naked body from head to toe.
“I like your outfit.”
“He used me,” she said, her face heating with shame.
“Who?”
“A Cherub. He has Nyx on his arm. He’s here, somewhere.”
“Ah. Met him. Nasty fellow.”
“He’s been talking to me in my head, pretending to be Michael. He must have pulled the location of HQ from me.”
“He pretended to be Michael? Should I take it from your, uh, appearance that you and he were—”
“What? No! He came to me while I was in the shower. Give me a little credit.”
“Whew. That would have been embarrassing.”
“He had no body beneath the waist—”
“So he really did look just like Michael.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious.”
“I know. He brought you here?”
“Yes, but I foiled his plan to kill me on arrival. He didn’t count on my swords.”
Con snorted a laugh. “Probably couldn’t imagine where you’d hidden ‘em.”
Anne punched him in the arm. “Give me your shirt, jackass.”
Con unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to her. The long denim oxford did a reasonable job of covering her.
“I dunno, Annie, I think you’re throwing away an advantage there.”
“Thank you, but these Sentinels are like zombies. I’m not on their radar.” She peered past him at the battle. “We’re the only Angeli Sentinels. It’s up to us to stop Nyx.”
“You don’t think I should help thin out these Sentinels first?”
“No. We need to work together to kill Nyx as quickly as possible. He’s releasing these things—kill him and we stem the tide. Let the Angeli slaughter the Sentinels. They’re falling fast. Boudica downed two ten seconds after she arrived.”
Con grinned. “She’s sometin’, isn’t she?’
“She’s impressive.”
He pointed to the far corner of the hall.
“There. Nyx.”
Anne spotted the shadow. He was now holding out only one arm, creating a sheet of darkness beneath it as wide as his wingspan. From it, single Sentinels appeared in staccato bursts to join the fray.
Con cracked his knuckles. “Like old times?”
She nodded. “Let’s do it old school.”
Con disappeared and Anne headed towards Nyx, doing her best to blend with the crowd. She was ten feet from the Cherub before Con appeared on Nyx’s left. The second he manifested, Nyx turned his featureless face toward him and the Irishman slammed his fist into it. As transparent as Nyx’s head seemed, it bounced off the wall.
Anne spotted her chance and released a volley of her own energy in the form of throwing knives, flinging them like a circus performer. They penetrated Nyx and pinned his energy to the wall. She burst into a sprint as Con leaped on Nyx, draining as the Cherub struggled to free him
self.
Nyx roared, writhing to escape as she joined Con, thrusting a sword though his chest and another through his skull.
Nyx burst into light.
Cherub gone, Anne collapsed to the ground. Con slid down to join her.
“We still got it!”
He held up his hand to high-five, but she left him hanging. “He went pretty easily. He’d put too much energy into his Sentinels.”
Con huffed. “Come on. Admit it. We still got it.”
She offered him a little smile “Fine. We still got it.” They high-fived. “But don’t let Tyannah see us do that.”
“Why?”
“It might be the dorkiest thing we’ve ever done.”
He shook his head. “Not even close.”
Enjoying her Nyx-supplied energy high, she turned to face Con. His eyes twinkled with raw power.
She sighed. “You want to keep fighting, don’t you?”
“Aye. Shall we join the fray?” He slapped the top of her thigh, stood, and offered her his hand.
He pulled her to her feet and, screaming like a lunatic, ran into the battle, punching every face within reach including one lesser-angel who had the misfortune of falling into his path. The devastating power of his fists, multiplied by the power he’d drained from Nyx, sent the inexperienced Cherub Sentinels reeling. Angeli followed in his wake, snatching attackers in their electric wings like spiders entrapping flies.
Lacking Con’s hybrid Angeli-Sentinel powers, Anne could only distract the Cherubim Sentinels long enough for an Angeli to drain them. She searched for battles where she thought she could do the most good, dragging packs of Sentinels away from Angeli long enough for the angels to dispatch their attackers one by one.
Alexander fell beneath the weight of three attackers and Anne ran to help. She kicked one young man away and yanked a girl’s hair, sending her skittering across the floor. Alexander had the remaining boy dispatched before the others returned and nodded to her, acknowledging her assistance.
Anne turned to find the girl she’d sent flying kneeling at the feet of Boudica. The flame-haired Angelus had split the girl in half, head to pubic bone with a mighty blow from her sword. As the two halves fell, she drained them to dust with the tip of her glowing appendage.