The Hidden Demon

by Monica La Porta

  Ophelia screamed or barked. Reality was confusing and moving slow. His fall seemed to take forever, but eventually he hit the ground with a satisfactory thump that reverberated all over his body.

  “Don’t move. Stay still.” Ophelia’s voice was frantic. He wanted to reassure her he didn’t intend to go anywhere.

  “Keep him down,” she said.

  Something moved underneath him.

  “Don’t let him move you,” she cried.

  The fog clouding his mind cleared for a moment. “What?” Then he felt the angel pushing at him and he pushed back. The angel’s head was beneath Peter’s chest, and he realized that the angel needed only to free his mouth to invoke his Wrath on them. He squashed the angel down. “Need help.”

  Ophelia jumped on him and pushed on his back. She felt as if she weighed as much as he did. He put aside that thought for later and kept crushing the angel to the ground, which he realized was trembling as if an earthquake were joining the fight. He would have laughed, but didn’t have enough strength to double task. The earthquake’s noise soon became a helicopter’s blades fanning over them. At that point, he was sure he was hallucinating and let his body go on automatic, pushing down the angel when the bastard moved, and trying just to remain conscious long enough to make a difference for Ophelia.

  He heard Ophelia scream and worried, then he realized she was calling someone’s name. He found he didn’t care much for that, but that must wait.

  “Thank the gods, thank the gods, thank the gods,” she said louder and louder.

  He heard her whimpering and crying, even whining and barking, but wasn’t sure about those last sounds. In the distance, from somewhere ahead in the clearing he and Ophelia had tried to reach earlier, a loud roar exploded and a sudden gush of wind hit him. Then the swooshing sound of the blades dimmed. A moment later, a man, who at first had looked familiar, sprouted two broken wings in mid-step and hurried toward them.

  “Samuel!” Ophelia screamed and dismounted from Peter to kneel at his side.

  “Ophelia. Are you okay?” The angel was approaching fast.

  “Thank the Great Wolf you’re here.” Although Ophelia was still by Peter, her voice held a note of affection for the other man and he didn’t like it.

  Seeing red, he felt an unexpected surge of power. “Everything’s under control.” He squashed the angel beneath him, then raised his upper body from the ground to drive a series of fists into the angel’s face, reducing the man’s features to a pulp. He only stopped when he realized Ophelia had moved. His vision blurred, he saw the angel helping her up and embracing her. The fallen’s wings enveloped her and something ugly possessed Peter.

  “What the f—” Without thinking, he rose and staggered forth.

  He didn’t stop until he was at Ophelia’s side, then without letting his brain interfere with his actions, he grabbed her by her shoulders and snarled at Samuel. “Do not touch her.”

  Samuel raised an eyebrow, but instead of talking to him, turned toward Ophelia. “Ophelia—?”

  “It’s okay,” Ophelia answered Samuel, but looked at Peter, partially placating his ire by giving him the sweetest of smiles.

  “You’re naked.” Peter removed his shirt and covered her with it, pushing it over her head and lowering it down her shoulders. Satisfied that his filthy and bloodied clothes were now hiding her form from the other man, he grabbed her once again and pulled her back against him, his arms around her chest and waist.

  Tilting her chin up, she looked at him. “Are you done marking your territory?” She was still smiling though.

  As an answer, he tightened his hold and lowered his head to her shoulder, while keeping an eye on the fallen angel.

  Samuel had an amused look on his face. “I guess we found our fourth for poker night when Alexander becomes a full-time dad.” He gave Peter a pat on his shoulder. “Relax, big boy. She’s like a sister to me.”

  “Yep.”

  Peter heard an undertone in Ophelia’s one-worded answer, and again he reacted by pressing her closer to him.

  “Where is Alexander?” Ophelia moved against Peter’s arms, craning her neck to look behind Samuel. Someone was walking down the path.

  “The only available chopper was two-seated. Marcus flew me here. Alexander is driving.” Samuel turned toward the immortal who had his eyes on Peter.

  The centurion was soon by their side, and after assessing both Peter and Ophelia with a raised eyebrow, he looked beyond them, and finally spotted the angel on the ground. “Is he alive?”

  Peter turned too. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Good. We need to interrogate him.”

  Ophelia tensed. “How? We can’t let him open his mouth.”

  The sudden realization of his stupidity hit Peter and he ran back to the angel. He tore a piece from the angel’s shirt, opened his mouth enough to shove the crumpled-up strip of fabric inside, then removed the belt from his jeans and wrapped it around the angel’s face, covering his mouth. Finally, he pulled and tightened the belt until he was sure the angel wouldn’t be able to utter a single word. He looked up at the trio staring at him with wide eyes, and motioned for the two men to come closer. “I need your belts too.”

  “Sure.” The centurion removed his and handed it down to Peter.

  Samuel did the same. With numb fingers, but stubbornly not wanting to ask for help, Peter fastened the angel’s hands and legs together.

  Finally, after a moment in which everyone contemplated how close they could have come to experiencing an angel’s Wrath, Samuel raised one hand to command their attention. “Okay, that being settled, Marcus will fly him to Castel Sant’ Angelo.” He caressed the stubble on his jaw. “I’m sure Barnes will come up with a solution to interrogate him without having half of Rome destroyed.”

  Peter shook his head. “No. The chopper only flies two and I want Ophelia out of here now.”

  “There’s the angel’s car.” Without turning, her eyes on the still form on the ground, Ophelia pointed at it over her shoulder.

  “Time is of the essence and a car is not fast enough. It took us hours to arrive here.” Peter walked before her, laid a peck on her forehead, then turned her around to divert her attention from the angel and pressed her against him.

  She placed one hand over the one he had on her waist. “But we’ll be in that car and Samuel will drive, and everyone will reach Rome safe.”

  He hated to have to burst her bubble. “It won’t make any difference.”

  “Why?”

  “Arariel is behind this.”

  “The archangel?” Ophelia asked the question, but Samuel’s and Marcus’s heads had snapped at the same time at Peter’s statement.

  He didn’t know where to start with the explanation, but he had to make it short. “Remember all those texts I was receiving?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was Arariel ordering me around. He needed me to spy on the Immortal Council’s progress on solving the embraced couple’s mystery, and I didn’t think too much of it at the time. I thought it was petty politics between species as usual. Now I know I’m personally involved in that couple’s death and it must have something to do with the Holy Nation as well, judging from their desire to see me out of the game.” He released Ophelia, but kept one hand on her elbow and gently turned her to face him. “It won’t take long for that SOB’s boss to realize something went wrong and the archangel’s Wrath will be upon us before we can blink. He won’t care about Peace Pact Alliance’s laws and not deploying wings. He’ll be here as soon as he’s warned by his man.” He looked at Marcus. “Take her back to Rome while Samuel and I deal with this.” He turned toward Samuel as the seed of an idea took shape in his tired mind. “If it is okay with you.”

  The fallen angel bowed his head in assent, and Peter looked back at Ophelia.

  Her eyes became stormy and she folded her arms under her chest. “No. I won’t leave you.”

  He took her face between his hands and lo
wered his head. “Ophelia, please. I need you to go. Arariel wants me dead and I don’t know why. The sun is healing me, but I’m not at my best.”

  She tilted her head. “But I can’t leave you.”

  “You can and you will.”

  “Peter, please—”

  “Ophelia, you might have noticed by now that I do stupid things when I’m around you. I can’t be trusted to make the most reasonable decision if I’m worried about you. Please, understand.” He lowered his lips to her for a brush and heard a loud cough.

  “Hey, that’s our little sister you’re manhandling, mister.” Legs divaricate and chest out, the centurion sternly stared at him. “I hope you’ll do right by her or you’ll have bigger fishes to fry than the archangel.”

  For a moment Peter stared back at the immortal, not sure on what to say next, then he saw Ophelia giggle.

  “You should see your face, demon.” She pinched him, and at the same time, both Marcus and Samuel started laughing.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” Marcus stepped forward and patted his arm with the same companionship the fallen angel had done earlier. “You’re off the hook.” He then immediately sobered. “Unless you hurt her. In that case I’ll eviscerate you slowly, then I’ll leave you to Samuel and Alexander.”

  “He’s kidding,” Ophelia said to Peter as she swatted the centurion.

  “No, I’m not.” Marcus gave him a smile.

  “That’s okay. I intend to worship this woman until the end of time and then some.”

  Marcus made a disappointed sound then shook his head. “Still our little sister you’re talking about.”

  Ophelia sighed out loud, but Peter could see she was trying hard not to laugh. He was happy for the moment of reprieve, but he had to make her leave. He looked over her at Marcus. “I really need you to fly away now.” He then mouthed, “Please.”

  Marcus lowered his head. “Little sis,” he called Ophelia with a wink and she laughed. “He’s right. Between him and Samuel, they can take care of this.”

  It took several more minutes to convince her, but eventually, Peter helped her on the chopper and clasped the seatbelt around her. “I adore you, werewolf mine.”

  “And I adore you, demon mine.”

  He watched as the chopper flew over their heads and disappeared in the sky. Then he turned toward the casolare and Samuel who was waiting for him farther along the path.

  “Now, tell me you have a plan because, otherwise, we’re screwed, and I have a vampling waiting for me back home,” the fallen angel said.

  Chapter Ten

  “I didn’t have lots of time to think about this, but—” Peter had come up with the idea as he was talking to Ophelia—a hastily sketched plan born out of desperation to see her out of there, so the details weren’t clear to him. “You were an angel of life, right?”

  Samuel nodded. “Yes, but I don’t see how this is relevant at the moment.”

  Peter passed one hand through his matted hair. “I was an angel of life too—”

  Samuel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How could you know that?” He then raised one hand. “Never mind, keep going.”

  Peter’s legs were shaky and he wasn’t sure it was due to his malnourishment. He forced his body still and folded his arms on his chest. “My powers were perverted when I turned into a demon. Once, I could communicate with the living souls. Now, I read the dead’s thoughts.”

  Samuel frowned. “Okay.”

  “You have retained a minimum percentage of your original powers—” Peter was tired and was glad the sun had finally escaped the thick blanket of clouds. He tilted his chin up and closed his eyes for a moment to let the light and the warmth reinvigorate him.

  Samuel nudged him. “Yes?”

  Peter blinked and swayed, but stood his ground. “I mean, you’re still holy in nature and closer to the angels than I am.”

  “I suppose—?”

  “I was thinking that, maybe, if you acted as a bridge, I could try to read the living?” Peter massaged his temple.

  Samuel stared at him for a few seconds, then without warning, grabbed his hand in a tight hold. A feeble wave of energy passed from the fallen angel to Peter. “I thought I felt something when I touched you earlier.” He released Peter’s hand and nodded. “We should give it a try. It’s not like we have many options—” He looked around, and his eyes paused on the middle of the pathway, where Ophelia’s bike was parked, not far from the city car. “That bike is fast, faster than the angel’s car for sure, but even if you had enough strength for the ride, the archangel would catch up with us in any case and no one in the Immortal Council would lose sleep over a fallen and a demon gone missing.”

  “Put that way, it makes me kind of sad.” Peter tried to laugh, but couldn’t muster the right frame of mind. His thoughts were on Ophelia and if he would ever see her again, but at least he was at peace with the knowledge he had saved her. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Samuel walked toward the unconscious angel on the ground, and stopped before him, then leaned to inspect him with a few prods. “Thankfully, nothing happened, but you should’ve incapacitated him right away.”

  Remembering his shortcoming, Peter felt his stomach contract. “I was sidetracked.”

  “Love does that.” Samuel lowered himself to the ground by the angel. “Ready?”

  Peter followed him down and sat to the fallen’s right. He looked up at the sky. “I find a reason to like being alive and this happens.”

  “It makes you wonder about fairness in life, doesn’t it?”

  Peter turned his eyes back down to find Samuel waiting for him to take his hand. He grabbed it and squeezed. “I have too much to lose now.”

  Samuel gave him a smile. “Me too.” He lowered his other hand over the unconscious angel and pressed it over his forehead. “Whatever happens, we tried.”

  Peter breathed in and out, then cleared his mind as he did before every reading. “Now.”

  At first, he didn’t feel anything, as he hadn’t felt the current Samuel had mentioned before. He tilted his face toward the sun and forced every thought out of his mind. He created a white chamber where there wasn’t anything else but light. He expanded the walls of the chamber until they extended so far out they disappeared from his sight. His consciousness meshed with the light and shrunk to nothingness until he was no more Peter.

  Fleetingly, Samuel’s consciousness—a golden halo surrounded by black specks like dark feathers—knocked on Peter’s outer walls, but the brightness he had become wrapped with Samuel’s and made it one with his. The union was pleasant and energized the bright light with renewed power.

  Then a disturbance. Chaos in red and purple erupted inside the chamber. The greater power of the two souls combined integrated the intruder and pacified it. Warmth and pleasantness existed. Finally, a question was asked, “Why?”

  A flood of thoughts filled the chamber.

  “How dare you use our most secret weapon to help two lesser beings?” The archangel was staring down at a bloodied angel chained to a column. His wings were broken in several places and dangled lifeless from his shoulders. “Do you understand the epic proportion of your lack in judgment?” He whispered something and fresh blood spewed from the chained angel’s mouth and ears. “No, you don’t.” He nodded to someone.

  A second angel approached the chained one and repeatedly stabbed his shoulder. When he moved out of sight, the chained angel’s right wing lay almost severed, but the wounded angel could barely moan his pain.

  “How utterly wrong is it that I, the archangel, can’t dispose of you as I wish? Superior orders—” The archangel used his Wrath to torture the chained angel some more, but had to stop. He screamed and stretched his wings to their full extension and bumped everything in their span, breaking and upturning furniture. “But, I’ll be in charge one day and there will be no power above mine. There will be no mental block stopping me from killing a traitor who helped a shifter and a vampire tra
nsmigrate their souls into newborns.” He turned toward the chained angel. “A werewolf and a bloodsucker! For Elysium’s sake! You betrayed the Holy Nation for those vermin.” He resumed the torture, but the chained angel was beyond feeling pain, and the archangel, so close to killing him, was forced to stop once again. The archangel’s shout broke two windows and made all the other angels in the chamber move toward the walls. “Where did you hide the bodies?” He opened his mouth, but not a sound came out of it. His face red, the archangel turned and ran toward the broken window and jumped out, distending his golden wings and riding the thermals.

  The angel who had been cowering in the corner, hesitantly walked toward the prisoner. “Peter, tell him what he needs to hear. Where are the bodies? You should’ve disposed of the vampire’s remains at least. Nobody can know our secret.”

  Slowly, the chained angel raised his head from his chest, and opened one swollen eye. “Why did you betray me?”

  “I couldn’t hide something that big from him. He would’ve discovered what you had done and, knowing we’re close, he would’ve gone after me next. You left me no choice.” He heard the whooshing of the archangel’s wings slashing just outside the chamber. “Listen to me, you must tell him the whole truth. He can’t kill you but he can keep torturing you for all eternity. Three years have already passed—”

  The chained angel let out a suffered cry and shook his head. “I don’t know what happened to their remains.”

  “Please, stop lying and come clean. You’ve already helped those two transmigrate their souls. Why are you doing this? What do you think to accomplish? Haven’t you suffered enough?”

  The chained angel was shaken by a sudden bout of violent trembles, and let his head fall to the side, his open eye on his interlocutor. “I thought you loved me.”