by Amy Barrett
Ivan started as he heard the sound of sirens out in the street. The reaper looked at Ivan without blinking for long enough to make it awkward.
“Don’t be stupid, reaper. The spirits have been killing people in small ways for a while now. If you continue to ignore them, it will get far worse.”
Ivan shrugged. His mask was on and it seemed to convince people that he didn’t care. “It’s not my problem. They are humans. You will reap them someday anyway.”
“I will.” She smiled again but the smile made Ivan feel sick.
Without saying anything else she vanished.
Ciara came to Ivan. She was trembling slightly. “That man is dead.”
Ivan nodded. I don’t care, I don’t care. He repeated this over and over to himself.
“I know he’s dead.” Ivan headed for the door and it took Ciara a second to wake up and follow.
“I forgot you are a reaper. You must know death pretty well by now.” Ciara shivered and folded her arms. She glanced over her shoulder and chewed on her lip.
Once they were outside Ivan felt better. He couldn’t see the spirits anymore. He was back on the plane of existence where he belonged. He was marching ahead of Ciara and she tried to shout to him over the sirens and cars. He pretended he didn’t hear her, forcing her to follow him at speed. He spun into an alleyway and felt his mind wander. It wanted to go back to that morning. To remember Jack in the chair, the eyes of the little girl and that feeling he was ashamed to admit he almost liked now. The feeling of taking everything away from them. Ivan pressed his palm onto the concrete wall. It was rough and parts of it stabbed into his skin. It was chilly but not in the same way as souls. He smelt piss somewhere in the alley, but the smell didn’t make him turn away. He inhaled it like cocaine. I like this better than how reaping ever felt, he thought as he took in the sensations around him.
Ciara was out of breath when she caught up. “Whats wrong?” she asked.
Ivan shook his head. “Nothing.”
“No one runs away like that if they’re fine.”
Ivan turned around to contradict her. But he was stopped short by the sight of a man with dark eyes and pale flaking skin.
Chapter 13
He was hardly visible in the dark of the alley and only the moonlight spat colour onto his form. Ivan couldn’t be sure who he was but simply being near him made Ivan want to shrug off his skin and run.
He chuckled and skulked towards the two of them, his heavy boots smacking against the tarmac.
He whistled between his teeth. “Fancy running into the two of you here. Abyzou’s little toys.” He swung his hands together and stuck out his tongue, tasting the air like a snake.
If he knew Abyzou then he must be a demon, Ivan reasoned while scanning the alley for a quick escape route. He couldn’t see any and he started to sweat heavily. Abyzou had only mentioned one demon on earth looking for them. Which meant that this was Mephistopheles. Ivan wondered if he would make it if he ran past him towards the street. His legs felt too heavy to run.
“And a reaper no less.” He gestured to Ivan. The broken skin around his fingernails flaked off and fluttered to the pavement, making Ivan cringe with disgust. “I haven’t seen one of you in person since, the 1800’s at some stage.”
He was just a few steps away now. Ivan smelt the stench of dried blood and something rotten off the demon’s clothes.
“We don’t get out much.” Ivan raked his fingers through his hair. At the same time, he used the thumb which was now on the side of his head facing Ciara, to point down the alleyway. He was shaking and his muscles were clenched tight enough to hurt but they needed to run, or this lunatic would likely cut them both into ribbons. He hoped that Ciara had seen his signal and knew that he planned to flee.
“Enough chit chat.” Mephistopheles clawed at the wall. His fingers took chips of grey stone off.
Without checking for Ciara, Ivan started to run. His legs burned from the sudden activity. He was almost at the end of the alley when he decided to look back for Ciara.
She had hesitated just a mere second, but a second too long. Mephistopheles had her by the hair and she screamed. She was leaning back as she tried to relieve the tension on her scalp.
Mephistopheles nodded at Ivan. “I don’t want to kill you. But this one...” He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled.
Ciara shrieked. Ivan was hopping from one foot to the other at this stage. It was painted all over Mephistopheles’s face that he liked to watch Ivan consider leaving his friend to die. He may like the idea even more, that Ciara would see Ivan abandon her before she died. Ivan decided he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He started to walk towards the demon. Mephistopheles maintained eyecontact with him as he drew his knife from the sheath at his side. Ivan’s heart skipped a beat.
“I am sure there is a less psychopathic way to handle this.” Ivan held his hands up in surrender as he approached them. His heartbeat was fast, and he was starting to think he might be having a heart attack. He ignored it and took more careful steps. By this stage, Mephistopheles was pressing his knife to Ciara’s throat. She screwed her eyes shut. Tears rolled down her face and she didn’t move a muscle.
As she held her breath, he seemed to consider something. “You are right reaper. There is no need to go around slitting throats.”
Ivan’s heart slowed a little. “See now that is what I meant.”
Mephistopheles nodded. He was grinning from ear to ear. “There are much better ways to die.”
Ivan hadn’t really heard what the demon had said before the blade was planted in Ciara’s side. She squealed and crumpled to the ground, one limb at a time. Mephistopheles removed the blade as she fell and wiped the blood off onto her shoulder.
Ivan moved faster than he ever had before. When he made it to Ciara’s side, there was a lot of blood. It swarmed around his knees, which took the impact as he dropped down. The ground was shiny and dark. Mephistopheles left like morning frost. No hint remained that he had ever been there, except for the damage he had left behind.
Ciara smiled at Ivan. He had gone pale and vomit was building at the back of his throat. He didn’t know where to put his hands. They just hovered above her injured body.
“It’s okay,” Ciara said, “you just need to get my phone and call for an ambulance.” She was shaking and silently crying.
Ivan swallowed some bile. “It’s a demon blade. What if you need demon or angel help?” He nodded. Rummaging in her jacket for her phone, he was babbling more to himself than Ciara. “Yea Zerachiel will know what to do. He is an angel. He has all the answers. He will make all of this better.”
He held the slim phone before him and stared at the screen. “Damit,” he yelled, “I don’t know the angel’s number.”
The blood was black on the side of her jacket and the more that Ivan looked the less ideas for helping he could come up with. He was trembling so hard that he was finding it difficult to hold onto the phone. His mind was running through ideas too fast for him to focus on any of them.
“Fine.” He unlocked the phone after a few tries at swiping his finger across the screen. “What is the number for this ambulance person then?”
Ciara giggled past her tears. “I hope they bring more than one person.”
Ivan couldn’t imagine what was so funny.
“Its 999.” She sounded small and weak.
Ivan dialled the number. “999 what is your emergency?” The disembodied voice freaked him out. It was strange to talk to someone he couldn’t see.
“My friend has been stabbed by a demon.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Hello!” Ivan prompted.
“I am sorry sir could you just repeat that?”
“My friend has been stabbed by a bloody demon there is nothing hard about this.” Ciara tried to get Ivan’s attention by saying his name a few times, but he waved her off.
The woman on the other end of the p
hone was silent again. Ivan could hear laboured breaths through the phone. Finally, she replied. “Okay sir could you tell us where you are?”
Ivan surveyed the area. His jacket fanning out as he spun. “An alley.”
“A bit more than that sir. What street are you on?”
Ivan had no idea. He dashed out into the street and stopped an elderly man. “Hey what street is this?” he asked.
The man grunted a reply and Ivan repeated it best as he could down the phone.
“Okay sir an ambulance will soon be on route. Can I please have your name?” There was the distant sound of the keys clicking on a keyboard.
“My name is Ivan.” Ivan jogged back to Ciara. She looked pale and he crouched beside her.
“Ivan what? A surname please.”
“Just Ivan. Good god do you want my life story now?”
Ciara was drifting off. He knew from experience that someone who was dying should not close their eyes. He slapped her face. The smacking sound of it would have been enough to wake her even without the impact. Her eyes shot open, but Ivan was afraid they would close just as fast.
“Alright sir, an ambulance is coming to your destination along with the police. Please stay where you are and keep the victim awake.”
Ivan rolled his eyes. What did she think he was doing?
Ivan sat on the pavement next to Ciara. The blood made his stomach turn as the metallic smell hit him. He forced himself to swallow any bile he choked up. He would not vomit on his friend. He tried to keep himself from panicking by reminding himself that he had seen stabbings many times before. But all those times the people died. He took hold of Ciara’s hand and squeezed. She weakly curled her fingers around his and his mouth went dry.
It was a long time before he heard the howl of the sirens. Usually for Ivan that meant it was time to go to work. Not this time. This time he watched the men and women spill like pills from the back of the white vehicle. This time, he tried to help before one of the paramedics put her hand on his shoulder and moved him back a few steps.
“Stay there. She will be fine,” she assured him.
Ivan heard the people who had gathered to watch the scene whispering and chattering. They were assembled in a line along the side of the street across from the alley. Ivan shot them a glare.
“Vultures,” he shouted at them. No one took notice. Once Ciara was loaded into the ambulance, Ivan shifted his weight from one foot to the other and set off to follow her.
A hand grabbing his shoulder stopped him.
“Look mate you better let go or I will-“ Ivan spun to continue the threat although he had no idea where it was going. There stood Detective Kershaw. She was still as orderly as before, and it seemed like her hair hadn’t moved since she had last arrested Ivan. Her uniform was pristine and her face hard in the grey light of the early morning.
She placed her hands on her hips and stood as straight as a ruler. “I knew when they told me how odd the call was that it had to have been you.”
Ivan gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “Oh mate, sorry about the tone, I didn’t know it was you.”
“Cut out the attitude.” She thrust a finger into his face. “I am not your mate.”
Ivan took a few steps back. “No need for so much hostility. I thought we were friends.”
Kershaw seemed on the edge of an eruption, but she held it together. Her breath roared out of her nostrils in one huff. “No, we are not friends. This makes it two attacks you were present at and only you. So, stop wasting my time.”
Ivan mused on this. He couldnt remember having saved someone else. I must just be a great guy that way, he thought.
Kershaw shook her head at him.
“The first one died,” she growled. She moved into Ivan’s personal space. She looked him head to toe and stared intently into his eyes. “If this one dies also, I will make sure you get as long of a sentence as I can.”
Ivan laughed and Kershaw blinked.
“Don’t worry about that. My sentence is an eternity.” Ivan placed one finger on her arm to try and move her away. “Now if you could get out of my personal bubble that would be great mate.”
Kershaw produced handcuffs from her belt. “Right that’s it. I am taking you to the station.” She grabbed his shoulder, turned him around and pulled his arms behind his back. The cuffs clicked around Ivan’s wrists. It had happened so fast that Ivan hadn’t had time to react.
“No,” he said, “I need to go to the hospital with my friend. And there are terrible seats in this station of yours.”
His feet dragged along the tarmac as Kershaw hauled him further from the ambulance. The doors were shut on Ciara and Ivan became more uneasy now that he couldn’t see her. It took another officer helping Kershaw, to get Ivan into the back of the squad car.
***
Nick was alone. His room was lit by a dozen candles. Each of them was burnt to down near the base. When he wakes in the morning they will have died.
He could hear the wolves talking. They were making plans in case Abyzou turned out to be evil. Nick could not make out the details, but he knew enough. They didn’t trust her. He didn’t either but he felt more like he could breathe around her than he did the wolves. Abyzou expected him to be nothing more than Nick. The guy who was a werewolf with a bit of a twist.
Outside, it was around three in the morning and Nick heard an ambulance making a fuss as it flew up the road. He wanted to block out every sound and just focus on the candle flames. If he watched them and only them, he might get a moments peace from himself and everyone else. He hoped that he could stop thinking about the battle to come and his own failures for five minutes.
The door opened, letting the sound of people speaking in. It was dull and it took some time for Nick to be able to make out the figure in front of him. The legs were slim and toned. The hips were round and leading to an hourglass shaped body that awoke something primal in him.
The arms were strong and lithe. Hands with nails like kitten claws. Her hair was free flowing. A tidal wave of black that settled on her shoulder.
Abyzou smiled. “Getting a good look, are we?” She tilted her head.
Nick defiantly turned his eyes back to the window. He might be going to work with her but that didn’t mean they had to hangout.
Her steps were whispers as she came across the floor to him. When she reached him, she lingered like a warm breath, just behind his ear.
“You sit here a lot.” One of her hands touched his back, just above his tail bone.
He gasped before he could stop himself. Her soft touch was like an old home. It was familiar and he remembered being safe whenever she touched him like that in hell. He needed to focus on what else she had done in hell. He did his best to think about when she tortured him, but it was a blurry place in his memory. It was like a story he had been told rather than his own reality. Instead he worked to summon up the memory of Dan’s face, but he was struggling even at this. Everytime he had almost pictured his friend he would get distracted by her scent as she stood right next to him.
Nick’s voice was wobbly on every second word. “Its nice to look out of here. Puts the world in perspective.” His mind was reeling, begging him to relax and enjoy something that felt good for once. After hell, leaving Dan behind, killing the girl and attacking an angel, Nick was beginning to doubt if there was anything good left for him before he died.
Abyzou hummed in response. She moved her hand to the side of his body and along his abs. “I know a few things that put the world in perspective for me.”
Nick knew he should move but he couldn’t get his body to agree. Goosebumps spread wherever she touched, and it took everything in him to supress a shiver.
“I bet you do.” His tone was sarcastic but Abyzou was not put off.
Her hand continued its assault, creeping onto his thigh. Nick felt more alive than he could ever remember. Her touch was more exhilarating than any adrenaline that a battle could give him. It was electrifying
though he knew it shouldn’t be. She had taken everything from him and broken him and his people down to nothing. Guilt and desire waged war in his head and made it ache.
It wasn’t just her body that he wanted, although he was in pain resisting it. He wanted this feeling. This alive feeling that meant he wasn’t just a saviour but a living breathing person. When Abyzou looked at him, he didn’t feel like a monster or an idol. He felt like everyone else.
Abyzou leaned in and smelt his skin. Her face brushed the bend in his neck that led to his shoulder.
Nick spun around and pressed himself into her without really knowing why. He was face to face with her. One of her legs was tangled between his and she was struggling to stand. Nick met her eyes and saw a fire in them. Her ocean eyes were brighter than the candle flames. Nick looked at his own lap. Her knee was in between his legs and he knew that he wanted more contact with her body like an addict wanted a hit. Fire raced through his veins and his clothes felt too tight and heavy.
Abyzou whispered close to his ear. “It would be amazing. Like living in another plane of existence. Just you and me.”
Nick jerked towards her. The movement was so fast that she lost her balance and came flying onto him. Nick caught her in his arms. Her chest was rested next to his and her thighs in his lap. Still one leg was trapped between his and he held onto her sides hard enough to bruise. Her heartbeat was hard enough to send tremors into him, and his own heart raced to keep up.
“There are so many things in the world I love to do rough.” Abyzou licked his bottom lip, her tongue leaving a hot wet trail. “But none so much as you.” Nick stopped breathing. His body was on high alert and the hairs on his arms stood on end.
She smirked and leaned in to kiss him. It was as if the whole world had slowed down and the seconds passed like hours. Nick watched her near him. He wanted to close the gap and only one thing stopped him. The door had not been closed tight when Abyzou had come in. Now it crept open and sent the voices of the wolves to save Nick from himself. Their chatting brought back the faces of all the pack. Especially the faces of those Abyzou had killed.