Angeles Covenant

by Michael Pierce

  The neighborhood was quiet, but that was usually the case on a weekday midmorning when kids were at school and parents were at work. None of that was probably true this morning, but the street was quiet just the same.

  I marched up the inclined driveway and went to the side door. I peeked into the garage and saw both of my parents’ cars. The side door was never locked unless everyone was out, but it was locked today—and bolted. That little detail alone showed me how different things already were.

  By the time I unlocked the door and entered the laundry room, I half expected to be greeted by the barrel of a rifle, even though I was pretty sure my father didn’t own one. But instead, I was greeted by continued silence.

  “Hello?” I called, not wanting to startle anyone too badly. “It’s me… Sean.”

  Still no answer. I could hear the television on, farther into the house.

  I crept through the kitchen, into the entryway, then peeked into the living room. My entire family was huddled on the couch, all focused on the television, still showing replays of the speech and the frantic reactions from officials and citizens all over the country. No one even seemed to notice I was standing there.

  “Pretty crazy, eh?” I said, still standing at the entrance of the room.

  Emma was the first to look over, a silent thank you etched into her expression. “Sean, you’re home!” she exclaimed, startling the rest of the family out of their collective daze.

  Then everyone jumped off the couch and rushed to me like a tidal wave. The next thing I knew, I was enveloped in a family hug nearly squeezing the life out of me.

  “It’s a miracle,” my mother cried.

  “Thank God you’re alright,” my father added.

  “I missed you!” Erica said, in between my parents.

  At first, Emma remained back, but joined the hug once everyone had committed to a spot. She didn’t need to say anything. It was obvious she was just glad I’d made my appearance before she felt it necessary to say something about me dropping by at school.

  “With everything that’s going on, I thought you were surely…” Mom couldn’t finish the sentence, the implication of it too terrible to voice.

  “What on earth happened to you?” Dad asked, releasing me from his portion of the hug and looking at me, his face awash with concern.

  I freed myself from being smothered and took a step back.

  “Sit down. You must tell us everything. Were you caught up with one of those monsters?” Mom asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the couch.

  It was easier to talk about it now. I didn’t have to fear their reactions to my outlandish story—because it wasn’t outlandish anymore. This was the world we were living in now, one no longer strictly inhabited by humans, but also supernaturals.

  “Yes. I was captured and held against my will before I even made it out of the state,” I began. “I recently had the unfortunate opportunity—or fortunate, depending on how you look at it—to learn about the supernaturals among us and to find out that this announcement was coming. It’s definitely scary, but we’re not alone in this. We will have help. We won’t be powerless.”

  “What happened to you?” Dad asked. “I flew to New York last week to find you, but like you said, you never even made it that far.”

  Mom hugged me again, her cheeks wet with tears. “I’m just so glad you’re home. I feared the worst, but I won’t say it.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’ve been through a lot, but I’m fine.” I was about to tell them how not fine I was about hearing the news of vampires, angels, magic and Fiona’s involvement in all of it, but at least I could bring them some comfort now, due to my greater understanding of the situation. I didn’t have to further perpetuate the speculation and panic being broadcast to the whole world. “I’m just so glad to be home.”

  “Me too,” Emma said, offering a small smile.

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Mom asked. “Can I make you anything?”

  I shook my head. There was no use prolonging my story, which it was obvious they were dying to hear.

  Dad reached for the television remote and muted the sound. “If your experience is too difficult to talk about, then you don’t have to. Only when you’re ready.”

  “It’s okay. You need to hear about what happened to me to better understand what’s happening out there. But just know this. No matter what happens, we’re going to be okay.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible given what we’ve seen this morning.”

  “The definition of what’s possible has changed. Everything’s changed,” I said, then explained exactly what had happened to me.

  28

  Mallory

  It had been a long time since I’d been at Sisters of Mercy after dark. I’d had plenty of nightmares about it, and that was perhaps one of the reasons I’d come back. This time, I wasn’t here to see Kelsey or Nathan, but to recommit myself for a night to bring all those nightmares back to life. The vampires were out now, proving to the world that they were everywhere. And I needed to be ready and vigilant. What better way than fighting for my life in a controlled environment where I was confident I wouldn’t actually die?

  I didn’t need to be drugged. I didn’t need food. And I didn’t need to mingle. All I needed was a room, which Jack was willing to give me if I promised not to tell. He didn’t want to answer to my father—or even Matthew.

  I sat in a spare room with the curtains spread wide, so the moonlight shone in. I didn’t want to think about who’d inhabited this room and why that person was no longer here.

  Jack had let me into the room himself, locking me inside. But I knew he wouldn’t be the one to visit me. He only fed from Ashley, which he had to do less of nowadays given her age. But he was still committed to only her—something even I admired.

  I told him I didn’t want preferential treatment as long as it stayed strictly hospital staff. The one thing I couldn’t handle was one of their sick VIP bastards.

  I remembered long stretches of nothingness, even though I’d shared the room with Fiona; we didn’t talk when we didn’t have to. I actually preferred having the room to myself, since this gave me time to prepare myself for what I was about to go through. I knew how the encounter would end, but didn’t plan on making it easy. After all, that’s why I was here—to fight.

  I didn’t know what time it was when the door finally opened because I’d given my phone and personal items to Jack before being locked in. I didn’t want anything besides myself being broken. And in walked a familiar face with icy blue eyes.

  “Here we are again,” Nurse Oleander said. “It seems like just yesterday when you were committed the first time. You were so feisty.”

  “I’m still feisty,” I said. “You didn’t break my spirit then and you won’t do it now.”

  Nurse Oleander adjusted her tight bun as she glided into the room, then locked the door behind her. “I wouldn’t want you to escape.”

  “I have no intention of running,” I said. “But I do intend to fight.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less coming from you. And Jack said I didn’t have to take it easy on you.”

  “You don’t. I welcome the challenge,” I sneered at her, edging myself off the bed.

  “Did he allow you to keep any weapons?” Nurse Oleander asked, stopping a few feet from me.

  I shook my head. “Otherwise, I might kill you.”

  “As cocky as ever.” Her lips curled up into the fiendish smile that never seemed to reach her eyes. As her mouth opened, she showcased her glistening fangs. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  I brought my hands together behind my back and gently pulled the sharpened pencil from my sweater sleeve. As I did so, I pictured myself stabbing her, getting several good shots in before she overpowered me completely. Even in the best-case scenario running through my head, I had no chance of victory. However, I wasn’t here to win. I was here to fight the impossible.

  “You look jus
t as scared as you did the first night,” Nurse Oleander said. “But there’s no backing out now. No throwing in the towel or raising a white flag. I mean—you can, but it won’t tempt me to provide you with any mercy.”

  “I don’t want your Goddamn mercy!” I shouted and lunged for her. She didn’t notice the pencil until it was about to pierce her neck, and she was too surprised to fend off the attack in time.

  Blood poured down and around the wound as I jabbed it deep into her flesh. The attack put her off balance, causing her to stumble backward and me to fall on top of her.

  I gripped the pencil tight as we both hit the floor, at which point, the pencil snapped. I was left with a jagged half, while the rest of it remained lodged in her neck—at which point I drove the splinter deeper into her skin to hinder her from pulling it out.

  Nurse Oleander roared as she threw me off her. I hit the wall upside down and crumpled to the floor, doing what I could to protect my head and neck in the fall. I still had the other half of the pencil in one hand. Nurse Oleander was now on her knees, clawing at her throat, trying to dig out the tiny wooden stake. And I knew as long as it was in there, the wound wouldn’t heal. The pain would persist, compromising her focus.

  I scrambled to my feet and ran at her again, this time kneeing the thrashing vampire in the face. She went down hard but grabbed my ankle before I could get away; she held on like an iron shackle. I fell forward from the momentum, crashing onto my hands and knees. Then, steadily, she pulled me back toward her.

  I slid across the concrete floor, unable to grab onto anything. Nurse Oleander wrapped her legs around me and squeezed, crushing my waist and making it nearly impossible to breathe. She gazed intently at me with her icy eyes, her face smeared with blood from me breaking her nose—already in the process of healing. However, blood still poured from her throat, so she wasn’t getting back to one hundred percent. But her strength was still insurmountable.

  One hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head close—close enough to then sink her fangs into my own jugular. I tried to buck free, but she had me. I’d gotten my few hits in, but there’d never been a question of how this would end. I just hoped I hadn’t pissed her off enough to insist on killing me.

  Nurse Oleander left me on the floor in a puddle of blood. She’d unintentionally healed parts of me with her own blood, which further frustrated her and caused me even more retaliation. However, I was alive—even if only barely. I was gifted a small sense of satisfaction from knowing the encounter had not gone as smoothly as she’d hoped. I hadn’t planned on breaking the pencil off in her neck, but it was a lucky break—literally.

  Kelsey found me sometime the next morning still sprawled out on the floor. The open curtains were now letting in morning sunlight from the positioning of this room, which Kelsey was quick to dowse.

  “Oh my God, Mallory,” she gasped. “The director told me you were in here. I didn’t believe it. Why would you do this to yourself?”

  I thought the question was rhetorical because I wasn’t in much of a condition to answer it. My response was nothing more than a pained groan.

  Kelsey immediately went to work on healing my wounds with her blood. Once I was starting to come back to life, she picked me up and lay me on the bed. One eye was still swollen shut, but I was finally able to open the other one and gaze upon her worried face.

  “I guess I’m just a sucker for punishment,” I croaked out. “Just like old times, right?”

  “I didn’t want to ever see you in this type of condition again,” she said, taking a seat beside me, careful not to disturb the mattress too much. “Why would you do this? It’s one thing to come and help me with the other patients, but this?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. I—I felt like I was starting to forget. I couldn’t let that happen. I need the pain sharp and in the forefront of my mind.”

  “To fuel your rage?”

  “To fuel my drive,” I said. “A war is coming, and I need to be ready. I will never pretend to be the victim. I won’t accept that.” I paused and took a deep breath, the pain steadily subsiding. That was another good thing about having the young vampire tend to me—her blood wasn’t healing me instantaneously. “Don’t worry about cleaning up in here. I’ll take care of it. I didn’t do this to give you extra work.”

  “You’re not helping me today,” Kelsey said, brushing some of the matted hair out of my face. “I’ll take care of everything and you’re going home to rest.”

  “No. I’m cleaning up the mess I made,” I insisted.

  “It’s already done. The director said you’re not authorized to help today. Once you’re feeling better, you can collect your things and go home. I can get him if you like, and he can tell you himself.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said, feeling racked with guilt. I wanted to stay and help. I wanted to see Nathan again, having avoided him since my last visit, when we’d shared our first kiss. I felt guilty about everything. “As soon as I’m ready, I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Don’t make it sound like I’m trying to get rid of you,” Kelsey said. “I’m concerned. Please don’t do this again.”

  “I won’t,” I said, not wanting more guilt to consume me. If I was able to get the conditions of my agreement with Jack changed so I could clean up after myself and insist on another orderly healing me, then perhaps I’d go back on that promise. But I wasn’t going to voice that to Kelsey.

  29

  Susan

  2006

  I opened the back door of the car for Fiona. I had her overnight backpack over my shoulder. She was able to unbuckle herself, then she expertly hopped down from her booster seat.

  “You’re going to be good for Grammy, right?” I asked, giving her a stern look.

  “Yes, Mommy,” she said, already reaching for her backpack. I let it slide down my arm, so she could grab the strap.

  “I want you to eat what she gives you. No complaining. And no whining when it’s time to get ready for bed.”

  “I know,” she whined, rolling her eyes.

  “I saw that,” I said, playfully squeezing the back of her neck. “And no rolling your eyes. And absolutely, positively no fun of any kind. Is that clear?” I smiled.

  Mom was already waiting at the front door, apparently having heard us drive up.

  “Hey there, sweet pea,” Mom said. She used to call both girls that because they were two peas in a pod. Unfortunately, the nickname seemed to stick even with Becca gone. It was habit, I guessed. I knew Mom didn’t mean any harm by it, but the nickname stung.

  “Hi, Grammy,” Fiona exclaimed, waving an expressive little hand.

  “We’re going to have so much fun tonight.”

  “I literally just said no fun of any kind!” I said with a laugh, trying to seamlessly brush past the nickname.

  “Oh, that’s right. Nothing but broccoli and chores for you tonight,” Mom said with a wink.

  “I want pizza,” Fiona said as she reached Mom and seemed to simply fall into her arms instead of giving a hug.

  “I’ve got something way better than pizza.”

  “Like what? Tell me! Tell me!”

  “Shhh. Not while your mother’s still here,” Mom said, giving me a knowing smile.

  “Hey, kid. How about a hug for Mommy?” I asked, dropping to both knees.

  Fiona ran and crashed into me with a bulldozer of a hug. “Bye, Mommy. Night, night. I promise to have no fun.”

  I kissed her on the good cheek, then let her run back to the door, past Mom, and into the house, squealing for Grandpa.

  Mom stepped away from the door and came down the two steps to give me a hug. “It’s good you’re finally getting out,” she said. “You deserve some you time. A girl your age deserves to have fun once in a while. Do you remember the concept of fun?”

  “Yes, Mother,” I said, rolling my eyes and knowing exactly where Fiona got it from. “Thanks for doing this. I’ll be back to pick her up early
in the morning.”

  “Don’t worry about us, and don’t worry about getting up early. Whenever you’re ready to come over tomorrow, we’ll be here. Just relax. Do you have a hot date tonight?”

  “No; nothing like that. Just going out with some friends I’ve been neglecting. Dinner, drinks—maybe a little dancing. I don’t know. We’ll see where the night takes us.”

  “Have fun tonight.”

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  “We won’t need anything,” Mom said disapprovingly. “You sound like we never watch her. We’ve watched her and her sister for years.” Mom immediately knew what she’d said, and that she shouldn’t have brought up Becca. “I’m sorry, honey. We’ll call if we need anything.”

  “Thank you,” I said and hastily returned to my car.

  I returned home to change into something more appropriate for an underground fetish club—except I had no idea what was appropriate for such a place. I’d barely been to a regular club in years and probably wouldn’t fit into the clothes I’d worn to go out at night ten years ago.

  After ripping my closet to shreds and every item of clothing now strewn upon my bed, I finally decided on a short black dress I’d bought for myself after turning eighteen, with the money I’d gotten from a waitressing gig at a small dive called The Angry Goat. I’d lied about my age and had been working there since I was sixteen. They’d even let me bartend from time to time.

  It was a long-sleeved, turtle neck dress with an open back and the skirt was even shorter than I remembered. It rode higher on me due to my larger breasts and the bit of a belly that had stuck with me ever since having the girls. So, in this dress I was all legs, which also weren’t as toned as they were in high school. I gazed at myself in the mirror after slipping on strappy black heels to complete the outfit. I thought I looked good—maybe even beautiful—but certainly wasn’t eighteen anymore.