Angeles Covenant

by Michael Pierce

  Then I saw the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life. A large Rottweiler had Fiona’s shoulder in its jaws, which it was using to drag her into the house—still screaming, her small limbs still flailing. There was blood everywhere. Rips and cuts marred one side of her face—the wounds opening and closing as she continued to scream like she was being torn apart.

  I had no weapons within reach, so I charged the dog empty handed, ready to kick it as hard as I could. But it sensed me coming, let Fiona go, and snapped its large, bloody jaws at me, causing my stride to falter. I spilled to the ground, yet still had enough control to kick it in the face when it came for me. Its teeth ripped at my heel, but the dog recoiled with a yelp.

  I scrambled to my feet and was ready to attack again when I noticed the dog rising on two legs—not a dog… Before my eyes, the Rottweiler transformed into a gaunt, pale-skinned man with long greasy hair. Blood still dripped from his mouth, where I saw his teeth were still more canine than human.

  I was so surprised and terrified I could barely move, but it was Fiona’s crying that kept me present. Her life was worth so much more than mine and she was dead without me anyway. I charged the creature in the foyer without restraint, screaming like a banshee, ready to tear it apart with all the strength I had and by any means necessary. But it was inhumanly strong and impossibly fast. It caught me before I even had a chance to strike, lifted me over its head and threw me across the room. I skidded across the dining room table, shattering the flower vase centerpiece, and knocking over the far chair as I crashed to the ground. My adrenaline was spiked high enough that I barely felt it, so even though I was bruised and bleeding, I sprang to my feet and sped into the kitchen. My focus locked in on the handle of the butcher’s knife, which I quickly freed from the wooden block and turned back to my attacker.

  The pale creature closed in on me so fast I barely had time to react. I wildly swung the knife with a satisfying swish, hoping for any amount of contact. And to my amazement, the blade slashed across the creature’s throat. The skin around the cut peeled away like an overripe fruit and blood spilled down his neck and soaked the front of his dirty shirt. With a gurgled cry, the creature ceased his attack and put pressure to the gushing wound.

  I gripped the knife in two hands, pointing it at whatever sacrilegious thing had forced its way into my home. It backed up a few steps still holding its neck. Fiona was still crying and all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms.

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled, thrusting the knife more in its direction, proving I wouldn’t back down.

  Without saying a word, the creature retreated to its Rottweiler form and ran out the open door. I rushed to the threshold to make sure it was really gone, dropped the knife, then fell to the floor at Fiona’s side. I wanted to hold her, but didn’t know where I could touch her without causing her more pain. Her sobs were heavy and sporadic as she tried to make sense of what had happened to her. Hell, I was still trying to make sense of what had happened myself.

  “You’re going to be okay,” I said, placing a hand on her leg. “Mommy’s here. I won’t let anything else hurt you.”

  But I knew she needed more help than I could provide. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I grabbed the phone from the kitchen and called 911.

  “911; what’s your emergency?” a calm voice on the other end of the line answered.

  “M—my daughter was attacked by a—by a rabid dog,” I said. “She’s really hurt. And my other—oh God… Fiona, where’s Becca?”

  Fiona simply stared up at me with the most sorrowful and tear-stricken eyes, unable to manage a single word as her little body continued to rock from the powerful sobs and the horrific trauma of it all.

  “You’re going to be okay,” I repeated as I jumped up, dropping the phone in the process, and ran out the door. “Becca! Becca!”

  I stopped at where the sidewalk to our door met the sidewalk encircling the parking lot, searching for my other daughter. There was no sign of the creature that had invaded my home as a Rottweiler. On the far side of the parking lot, a man was walking to his car and was noticeably staring at me. I glanced down at my open bathrobe, now covered in blood—as was my bare skin beneath. I immediately tugged the robe closed and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Becca!” I called again, not knowing what I was going to do. I had to get back inside to Fiona, but couldn’t simply abandon Becca. What if she’d been attacked too? I hung all hope on Becca hiding, out of fear from seeing Fiona being attacked. “Becca!”

  Then I saw the soles of her little light-up sneakers sticking out from behind some bushes lining the apartment building.

  My heart stopped.

  “No, no, no…” I ran to her and fell to my knees, frantically pulling her out from behind the bushes.

  She had as much spilled blood as Fiona, but she wasn’t crying… wasn’t moving… wasn’t breathing… I laid my head on her chest, where I still felt a shallow heartbeat. Her mouth suddenly moved, then her eyes opened just the slightest bit.

  I cradled her head in my arms as she gazed up at me with anguished and questioning eyes. “You’re gonna make it, Becks,” I cried. “Mommy’s got you.”

  I knew I couldn’t leave Fiona any longer, so I picked up Becca and laid her tottering head on my shoulder. I held her steady as I rushed back into the apartment, where Fiona was still lying on the floor in tears.

  “Becks!” she cried, her air-sucking sobs returning at the sight of her barely conscious sister.

  “She’ll be okay,” I assured her. “Just like you. Help is on the way. Stay with me, girls. We’re all going to be okay…”

  But we were not all going to be okay. I could feel Becca slipping away, now, her little body growing limp in my arms. Sirens sounded in the distance. Someone was still trying to get my attention through the phone.

  “Stay with me, baby,” I cried, hugging Becca’s fragile body tight. “You can do it—just a little longer.” But I knew she was already gone. She’d let go and there was nothing anyone could do to bring her back.

  Tears were uncontrollably streaming down my face as I heard the emergency vehicles nearing the parking lot. I laid Becca down on the tiles, then wedged myself between my girls and continued to cry, wondering how on earth this could have happened? This wasn’t supposed to happen. I cherished my girls. They were my whole world. And now that world was crumbling—had crumbled—around me.

  “We’re going to be okay…” I whispered between sobs, taking Fiona’s trembling hand in mine. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to provide comfort… because I knew it wasn’t remotely true.

  14

  Matthew

  Since it seemed like getting privacy with Fiona was too much to ask for, I set up a meeting with Jack and Ashley to try and get as many answers as possible. It was no use lounging around the estate if I couldn’t even have Fiona to myself. She seemed irritated by the situation as well but continued to give into Sean’s neediness. I offered to knock him out with the serum I’d used previously on Sean and Fiona’s girlfriends, but Fiona wouldn’t hear of it. She felt guilty for him being wrapped up in this vampire drama—despite me telling her he’d continually gotten himself involved. He was his own worst enemy.

  “How about we just get him really drunk until he passes out?” I suggested. Fiona and I were back to sitting around the kitchen island while Sean lounged in front of the big-screen TV in the living room, sipping from a Petite Sirah he’d chosen from the wine cellar. He knew nothing about wines. “All we need him to do is finish the bottle, if that.”

  “I just feel bad,” Fiona said, biting her lower lip again. She knew what that did to me, though I figured she was doing it unconsciously now.

  “We’re not doing anything nefarious. He’s already drinking on his own. He just needs a slight nudge.”

  “Maybe not,” she said. “Maybe he won’t need our help at all.”

  Fiona turned out to be right and after another hour, S
ean was passed out on the couch. The mix of alcohol, stress, and exhaustion had worked well enough on its own. Fiona took a comforter from one of the bedrooms and draped it over Sean’s snoring body. The wine bottle was nearly empty, though the glass he’d been sipping from was still half full.

  “Now, where were we?” Fiona asked, carrying the glass and bottle into the kitchen. She corked the bottle and downed the contents of the glass in one satisfying gulp.

  “I was trying to get you out of those pesky clothes,” I said, arching an eyebrow.

  “Is that so?” Fiona smirked, stepped up to me and brought her lips to mine. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  “I’m not waiting another damn minute,” I said, scooped her up in my arms, and carried her to the bedroom. I couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough, but everything about her was worth the wait.

  I could have lain with Fiona clear through to the next morning, but I wanted to leave for Sisters of Mercy before Sean had the awareness to tag along. I thought she might feel better staying home with Sean, but Fiona insisted on coming too.

  Sean was awake now, but he already looked hung over and was thankfully in no condition to get up. He remained under the comforter Fiona had tucked him into, his drooping eyes glued to the television.

  “Get some rest,” she said, kissing him on the forehead. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Sean said, though making no move to get up.

  “Believe me; you’ll want to stay here. Relax. You’re safe.”

  “I can bring you another bottle,” I offered, but Fiona shot me a disapproving glare and instead brought Sean a large glass of water.

  “What?” I asked with a shrug.

  Before Sean could put up any more of a fight, we left for the garage. I guided Fiona to the black Audi R8 in the far parking spot, helped her in, then got behind the wheel and revved the engine.

  “You done showing off?” she asked, exaggeratingly rolling her eyes.

  “Are you done pretending to be unimpressed?” I countered as I shifted into gear and inched down the driveaway. Then as I turned onto the neighborhood street, I hit the gas, which pinned her backward into the leather seat and caused her to squeal. Her surprise brought a wide smile to my face, as did the slap she sent my way once the initial shock wore off.

  Once we left the neighborhood and turned onto a main road, I slowed to a cruising speed and drove responsibly the rest of the way to Sisters of Mercy—not an easy thing to do in an R8.

  The sun was nearly down when we reached the hospital, meaning it would officially open to visitors in a few hours. I wanted to get there before the patient visits began, hoping to spare Fiona from witnessing farther traumatic interactions. It was bad enough she’d had to live through it once. I didn’t want her continually reliving the nightmares.

  Fiona stayed close to me as we navigated the hallways, holding my hand to ensure we remained tethered. It was the transition time from the day shift to the night shift. Orderlies were still finishing up with cleaning the rooms and the doctors and nurses were getting themselves situated for the night shift. The patients weren’t allowed out of their rooms yet, roaming certain halls with their emancipated bodies and hollow eyes. I greeted a few of the staff, but mostly stayed on course.

  “He lives!” Jack exclaimed as Fiona and I entered his office.

  “We just talked a few hours ago,” I said.

  “I know, but the Society thinks you’re dead. Ashley was just talking about the debriefing your team made to the Assembly.” Jack gestured over to Ashley sitting on the couch in the corner of the room.

  “I didn’t believe it,” Ashley said. She started to get up, but I crossed the room to keep her from exerting herself and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Excellent,” I said. “I can’t wait to hear their recount of what happened.”

  “Hello, Fiona,” Ashley said. “It seems you’re in the middle of a Society investigation as well.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fiona said, sounding genuinely remorseful. I knew how much the Society meant to her. It was the only way she could continue to see her father—and after the fallout with her mother, I believed she yearned to see her father that much more.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get into Fiona’s situation as well,” I said. “But just know, it wasn’t her fault.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but I’m not the one you need to convince,” Ashley said. “However, I am interested to hear the full story.”

  “Then let’s start at the beginning,” I said, taking a seat across from Jack, and retelling Fiona’s story. I may have gotten a few details wrong, but Fiona never corrected me.

  “So, we were following Fiona’s mother around for nothing?” Jack asked. “We were keeping all this information to ourselves when all we had to do was ask Fiona? I thought you said—”

  “I know,” I admitted. “All the secrecy made us terribly inefficient.”

  “The essence of the Society has really crept into your head.” Jack shook his head. “Actually talking to people and sharing information—now there’s a novel approach!”

  “We know,” Fiona said. “We’ve talked about it. No more secrets.”

  “Without his secrets, Matthew may just lose all sense of who he is.”

  “You guys are ones to talk,” I chided. “How long were the two of you together before you disclosed your relationship?”

  “If you’d been paying closer attention, you would’ve seen it from the beginning,” Ashley said. “It was pretty obvious. But no, we didn’t just go announcing our relationship to the world. It was a much less forgiving and less tolerant time.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call today’s world tolerant,” I said.

  “More so than it was.”

  I remembered laying eyes on Ashley for the first time, in a hallway not far from this office, when she wasn’t much younger than Fiona was now; then, she’d provided the astounding revelation that Matthew Sanders had killed her parents—the crime I’d been convicted of and that Frederick had committed—and had said how Jack had tried to protect her even then. Perhaps I would’ve noticed if I hadn’t been so caught up in discovering who she was.

  I glanced over at Fiona with a better sense of appreciation for the relationship we had—even with the looming expiration date I knew we had. I reached over to the next chair and took her hand in mine.

  “What happened to you?” Jack asked me, bringing us all back to the real conversation. “Why were you thought to be dead?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” I said, turning my attention to Ashley. “What did my team tell the Assembly?”

  “It was Aaron,” Ashley said. “He led the debriefing. He said the team succeeded in capturing Damien Galt, but he’d somehow managed to escape. You didn’t leave with the rest of the team. You left with, umm—the angel.”

  “Syrithia,” I said.

  “Yes, her. The assumption was she took you back to the Order, who then presumably killed you for the mission’s failure. Or perhaps they imprisoned you. Either way, you were thought to be as good as dead.”

  “Well, he was at least partly correct,” I said. “Syrithia did attempt to kill me, which I’d very much like to get to the bottom of.” I turned back to Jack. “I need you to go to the Consulate to confirm my current standing with the Order. Was Syrithia acting under their direction? Or was something else guiding her actions? Maybe even Frederick got to her somehow?”

  “Frederick wouldn’t do that,” Fiona said. “He promised to leave us alone.”

  “He’s promised lots of things,” I said. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “I’ll go and see what I can find out,” Jack said. “I’d better not get in trouble with the Order just for knowing you.”

  “If that was the case, then I think this place would have been shut down by now.”

  “I’m on time with the payments.”

  “Which I know they appreciate,” I said. “If m
y standing is still good with the Order—if they didn’t call for my head after all—then I’ll feel better knowing I have one less enemy to worry about.” I stopped for a moment, glancing at Fiona, then turning my attention back to Ashley. “Which brings me back to Fiona. What’s becoming of the investigation? What kind of trouble or danger is she in with the Society?”

  “As I’m sure you can imagine, Douglas wants her imprisoned while the investigation is underway, then he’s after an executive trial. But I think we can bypass that. But she will have to present her case. Her mother, on the other hand, is in danger.”

  “My mother is under Frederick’s protection,” Fiona said. “We haven’t been able to get to Damien and Clementine, so I think she’s safe. If it wasn’t beforehand, I’m sure her guard will be up now. But you can do with her what you want. She’s dead to me.”

  “I understand your bitterness from her alleged betrayal, but that’s a little harsh,” Ashley said. Naturally, she was sensitive when it came to matters of parental figures. “I’m not condoning her behavior, but I’m sure she has her reasons for the actions she’s taken—however traitorous they may seem from the outside.”

  “She chose her side and has to live with the consequences,” Fiona said, bitterly.

  “I agree. But that doesn’t mean you necessarily write her off completely.”

  “If I see her again, then I’ll take her out myself.”

  Ashley shook her head, noticeably disappointed with being unable to reach Fiona. “You make it sound so easy. When it comes time to pull the trigger, it’ll be harder than you think.”

  “Count yourself lucky you have two parents who are still alive,” Jack chimed in. “I know they’re not the ideal parents you’ve dreamt of, but at least they’re still here. You’re the only one in the room for whom that’s true.”