“Don’t worry about him. My friends will see to Alexander.” His eyes never left the knife. “They’ll be most interested in your blade. Demons do love mordicite.”
“Demons?” Zoë said. “Ren, you’re half angel. How can you side with demons?”
He barked a laugh at her. “You really are so human.” He paused. “You know what? I don’t think you know how to use that. I’m not interested in the mordicite for myself, but my friends perpetually seek it. And I have to confess, I don’t mind the idea of the world losing a Stalker.”
Ren moved around the desk and came at her. She had no idea what the half-angel part of his physiology would mean, but even if he were all human, she’d not want to take on a man his size. If demons were indeed outside, that made running away an unattractive prospect.
Ren hesitated when Robert Benson stirred behind her and moaned loudly. “Robert?” she said without taking her eyes off Ren, who had frozen in his tracks. “Are you okay, Robert?”
“Zoë?” he croaked. “Zoë, is that you?”
“Yeah, Robert. It’s me. I came to help.”
“Why are you glowing?”
She glanced down. The radiance started at her right hand, which held the chaos blade, but it covered her whole body now. She glanced up at Ren, who looked confused. Judging from the expression, she figured he couldn’t see it, but Robert’s words had given him pause.
Even without knowing what it meant, the strange glow on her skin filled her with confidence. Ren Jones would not hurt her or Robert Benson. She knew it in a way she couldn’t explain. She could almost see the next few minutes play out in front of her in a whirling tableau. When Ren lunged, it happened exactly as she saw it. He grabbed for her wrist, but the foresight gave her just enough time to dodge and slip to the left, catching him off balance.
Then as though the knife had a mind of its own, it surged toward Ren’s half-angel heart. She could almost hear it beating in her ears, and she watched herself act out a dance with graceful motions she knew by heart.
When the mordicite entered his body, Ren Jones screamed. He bucked against her fist. The blade pulsed, and primal energy coursed through her body. It exhilarated and repulsed her. She couldn’t help but wonder what the chaos blade would do to Alexander or Thomas, if this was what it did to a half-angel.
Robert looked up at her. His dark skin had taken on an ashen color. “My guardian angel,” he whispered.
“No,” she said, fighting back tears. “I’m something else.” Ren Jones’ body fell to the ground beside her, black blood oozing from a cut in his torso. It smoked and burned, as though someone had poured acid into the wound.
“You moved like he did. So fast. You’re not one of them?”
“No,” she said.
An eerie howl came from somewhere nearby. The sound made her shudder.
“How many are out there?”
Robert coughed and tried to sit up. “Three more? I am not sure. He’s the only one who came in. Did he get the keys?”
“No. Hey, don’t sit up. The keys are still here. I’ll gather them. Don’t worry.”
“An angel-killer. How scrumptious.” The voice at the doorway sounded somehow more than human with subtle tones that overlapped each other. Zoë looked up to see a stunning man with blond hair down to his shoulders. His eyes shone too brightly for him to be human.
“Demon,” Zoë said.
He smiled, leaning against the door jamb. “You make it sound so dirty.”
Zoë listened for Alexander. The din of fighting had gotten louder, as though a zoo had emptied out and all the predators had decided to go to the gazelle enclosure at once.
“I’m afraid we didn’t quite expect Dr. Benson to have so much protection. One Guardian we could have handled, but not four. Four, plus you. How wonderful. One Celestial Angel, three Fallen Angels, and one angel Stalker. You keep interesting company, Dr. Benson.”
“Go to hell,” Robert coughed.
The demon in the doorway threw his head back and laughed. “I’m on my way already,” he said.
That’s when Zoë noticed the darkness within him. She saw through him in her mind’s eye, and a cloud filled the inside of his torso and one millimeter at a time, crept outward.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “It looks like cancer, but not.”
“Fascinating,” he said, looking closely at her. He shrugged, as though it was a matter of no consequence. “I’m dying,” the demon said. “And so, I’m afraid, are you. You see, I need the mordicite in that blade. I could have gotten a tiny bit from the cores of each of those keys, enough to keep me alive for a few years. But that…” He shook his head in disbelief. “That, my dear, is priceless. I could keep five of us alive for an eternity with mordicite that pure. And since, as you know, a chaos blade cannot be stolen, we have two ways we can do this. You can give it to me, or…” He shrugged.
“Or you’ll kill me.” She hadn’t actually known a chaos blade couldn’t be stolen, but she filed that tidbit away, hoping she’d live long enough to make use of the information.
“With you dead, I can claim the blade by right. A shame, of course. I’m not violent by nature.”
Zoë snorted her disbelief. “Apparently I am.” She gestured down at Ren’s still-smoking body. “I’m not giving you this knife.” She crouched slightly, waiting for him to make his move.
“You must know that weapon will not hurt me in the least. If you cut me, I will heal, rip your delicate throat out, and take it.”
She hesitated. If that were true, why didn’t he just do it? Why stand around talking and posturing? “Come on then.”
Unlike Ren, when the demon attacked her, he did not lunge, but drew back, hovering off the ground, and then he flew at her. He bared vicious, sharp teeth and let out a horrific sound. She tried to duck, but he quickly landed on top of her.
The knife did not respond to the demon as it had with angels, or even the half-angel, Ren. It didn’t thrum in her hand or push itself toward the demon’s heart, if he even had one. But even without its guidance, she managed to thrust it upward, clumsily once, and then again. Searing pain filled her shoulder where the demon bit her viciously.
Zoë struggled beneath the demon, terror ripping through her. Adrenaline surged, and the pain of the bite and the demon’s claws digging into her shoulder receded. Screaming filled her ears, and it took a moment before she realized it was her own voice.
He held her so tight that when something behind the demon grabbed him and yanked him upward, Zoë flew forward with him. She cried out with relief when she recognized Alexander’s blue wings stretched out behind the demon.
The demon’s face changed. He was no longer handsome with a cultivated air. He looked as though he was being eaten alive from the inside out, and the extent of his illness showed in his sunken features. “I must have that mordicite!” he cried out. “The corruption is killing me.”
Alexander restrained the demon from behind, but the creature struggled. Although Zoë felt weak, her heart pounded, and she did not hesitate to act. “No,” she said. “I am.” She plunged the chaos blade into the demon and thrust it upward, under his ribcage.
The demon had lied. Although the mordicite did not affect him the way it did the angels, he had no protection from the deep cut in his flesh. His eyes widened with shock, and he released her, dark blood gushing from the wound.
She yanked the blade out of the gash and staggered backward. With a thud, she fell onto her backside next to Robert. Alexander dug his claws into the demon’s neck, finishing the task. Zoë turned away. After everything she’d seen that night, she couldn’t bear to watch another death. With her foot, she shoved the body of Ren Jones over and laid her head on the ground next to Robert Benson.
Her voice thin, she said, “What kind of doctor are you anyway? I seem to be bleeding a bit.” She fought the blackness that threatened to blot out her vision. The pure white ceiling above her was flawlessly smooth, like rolled fondan
t icing.
She closed her eyes and felt several hands on her. She recognized Thomas’ voice as well as Alexander’s. One of them, she wasn’t sure which, said, “I’ve got her.”
Although Zoë thought she’d only had her eyes closed long enough to blink slowly, when she opened them again, she found herself lying in a bedroom she didn’t recognize. Part of her wanted to stay beneath the huge, fluffy comforter forever. She had to get up though, to find out if Robert Benson was all right.
It took her a few moments of stumbling through hallways, following familiar voices to find her way back to the front of the house. She saw Alexander first, now in his human form, looking unfairly immaculate as he leaned against Robert’s desk in the library. As soon as she came to the doorway, he rushed toward her. “Little Zoë,” he said. “You need rest.”
“Robert,” she said, leaning into Alexander as dizziness overtook her. “Is he injured badly?”
He led her to the couch, where Thomas sat, concern also showing on his face as he helped her sit. “Camille is with him now. She is an excellent healer,” Alexander said. “She took care of your shoulder already.”
Zoë hadn’t realized someone had tended the deep bite-marks on her shoulder, partly because it hurt like hell. She pulled back the torn flaps of fabric on her sweatshirt and saw the red and rumpled skin where the demon had bitten her, but she could hardly complain about a few scars. The scratches had faded, although smears of dried blood covered her skin and clothing. “Angels can heal?”
“Camille can,” Thomas said. “It’s a rare and special gift. She cannot heal blood loss, however, which is why you should lie down. It looks ugly, but it will continue to improve.”
Zoë looked about the room. Books and papers littered the floor, and Ren’s bag of mordicite portal keys still lay on the floor near the desk. The bodies, both Ren’s and the demon’s, were gone.
“What happened?”
“When I arrived,” Alexander said, “the demons had already ambushed Cesara, Robert’s Guardian. Ren had led them here, having learned of the cache of mordicite keys. A human had accompanied them.” He paused and looked at Zoë. “Peter Delancy.”
“The guy that killed Kent.” Zoë’s mind reeled. “How did he find out about Robert?” It hit her with agonizing clarity. “He followed me here?”
Alexander nodded. “He took Henry’s keys to Ren and their demon masters, but those he had retrieved were not mordicite. Judging from the shape we found him in, his failure displeased them greatly. He followed you here, and that’s when he discovered Robert’s collection.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dead,” Thomas said.
Zoë nodded. She couldn’t say she was exactly sorry to hear the news.
“He reported to Ren, who planned an attack.”
“I don’t understand Ren. With the blade in my hand, I knew what he was, a half-angel. How could he take up with demons and have become a necromancer?”
Thomas looked away, as though he held himself responsible. His voice was tight with anger. “Some angels, Zoë, fall further than others. We, Alexander and me, Camille and others, we are Free Angels. Ren had truly fallen. I thought I could save him.”
Zoë reached over and gave Thomas’ hand a squeeze. “You can’t save everyone, Thomas.”
Alexander looked at Zoë. “Apparently you can, my love. If you had not gone to get Thomas and Camille, I do not think I could have taken them alone.”
It pleased her somewhat to know she’d rescued him, but she bit her lip when trying to decide whether to confess that she hadn’t been quite as heroic as he thought. Summoning Thomas to their aid was more of an accident than a brilliant plan. She looked at Thomas, who shook his head subtly. She couldn’t help but smile when she realized he wouldn’t burst her bubble.
“You’re going to have to tell me more about that archway, Zoë,” Thomas said.
She nodded, weary. “I don’t know. I can only do it when I’m touching the chaos blade. I discovered it quite by accident, yesterday, in fact. I have no idea what it means. My skin glowed earlier, when I held the knife.” She looked down at her arm, and then panic gripped her. “Where is it?” She glanced around the room and peered under the couch. “Where is the chaos blade?”
“Here,” Alexander said. He handed her a rolled up deep green bath towel. When she flipped the end of the bundle, it unfurled, and in the end she found the chaos blade. She picked it up quickly and inspected the edge. It was clean and wickedly sharp. She felt at her waistband and found the sheath still there. She slid the knife into the sheath, and covered it with her sweatshirt. She could tell by the looks on their faces that it made Alexander and Thomas uncomfortable, but they did not comment.
“The demon lied,” she said. “He told me that the mordicite wouldn’t hurt him.”
Thomas chuckled. “Our cousins do that.”
“Cousins?”
“They were the second created race after angels. Our creator found angels too static. We have little capacity for growth and change. When he created demonkind, he gave them the ability to lie and deceive. They know fear and desire in a way our kind does not. In the end, though, he went too far. Demons suffer from a corruption that eventually infects them all.”
“He told me he was dying. I could see the blackness inside him.”
Thomas nodded. “As much as this fact goes against human folklore, demons are not inherently evil any more than all angels are good. Our creator would not have intentionally made a race contrary to his own nature. But once the corruption takes root, they lose their hold on their basic good nature.”
“And mordicite can cure them?”
Thomas shook his head. “Constant contact with mordicite will keep the corruption from spreading, but they’ve never found a cure for it.”
“And what about healers like Camille? Can she not undo the damage?”
Alexander lifted Zoë’s hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. “You are wonderful, to think of healing demonkind.”
“No,” Thomas said, “I don’t think Camille could heal the corruption.”
“I don’t know if a demon would let me get close enough to try,” Camille said from the doorway. Although still stunning, she looked weary.
“Not fans of angels then, huh?”
Camille smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Zoë said. She looked down at the stains on the carpet. “I don’t know why I don’t feel worse. I killed two men. Well, one half-angel and one demon, but still. I should feel something, right?”
Alexander pulled Zoë close to him. “They would have killed you without a second thought, Zoë. The chaos blade is powerful in more ways than one. Some will want it for its more magical properties. Demonkind will desire the eternal metal.”
Zoë swallowed hard. “I guess I am a Stalker after all. I mean that’s what Stalkers are, right? Angel-killers?” After all the fierce denials, in the end, she had killed an angel. Granted he was a hateful, slimy, truly Fallen Angel, but she didn’t know if that would make a difference to anyone hearing the story.
“Whatever you are, little Zoë, remember you also saved Robert Benson, and you saved me.”
Thomas turned his head to the side, the way he did when he used telepathy. “I have to go. The celestial circle wants a report.”
Zoë snorted. “Since when do you report to those windbags?”
Thomas laughed. “I’ll be sure and give them your regards, young Stalker.”
Camille smiled at Thomas. “I’ll stay with Robert Benson. At least until he wakes.”
“That’s a good idea,” Zoë said. “He’ll probably have a million questions when he feels well enough to ask them. Wait, Thomas, before you go…is Henry all right?”
“Yes, I did get them to a refuge where they will be safe and Rose can perhaps begin to heal.” He nodded to her before pulling his arms close to his body and popping out of the room.
Alexander helped Zoë to her feet. “Shal
l I take you back to your home, or do you wish to stay with me at mine?”
Zoë smiled, turned to Camille and gave her a hug. “Thanks for saving my life, Camille.”
The beautiful angel smiled, her eyes looking happy and sad at the same time. “It was my pleasure, Zoë.”
Zoë turned to Alexander and said, “First my place, so I can grab a couple of things and make a phone call. I think I’m going to call in sick tomorrow. Then, if it’s okay with you, we’ll stay at yours?”
“As you wish, little Zoë,” he said. He kissed her gently on the forehead and drew her close.
She breathed in and out, enjoying the feeling of air filling her lungs: a simple thing, but one that made her immensely grateful. Life had gotten scary, and fast. She wasn’t the same Zoë she had been a week ago. She didn’t know if she could go back to work and act like nothing had changed. Before, she hadn’t realized half-angels were real, much less plotting with demons. In her old life, corrupt humans wouldn’t attack a man to steal his otherworldly keys, no one would gladly murder her, and she, ordinary Zoë Pendergraft, wouldn’t kill anyone either. Now, she’d dispatched two powerful beings in one night.
For now she wanted to feel safe and normal. She buried her face in Alexander’s chest and held on to him tightly. “I love you,” she said and meant it with all the strength in her. Alexander had become her refuge in a scary world, even if she did have to save him once in a while.
A Note From The Author
I believe in angels, the power of pixie dust, and things that go bump in the night. When my son was small, I never, ever told him, ‘Don’t worry. It’s just your imagination,’ because I know the imagination is the most beautiful and terrifying thing a human being possess. The goal of every book is to spark the imagination. I hope very much this story has touched yours, and that you’ve enjoyed it. I’m honored that you chose to spend a little of your time immersed in my world. Thank you.
Be sure to watch for the second Zoë Pendergraft novel, Familiar Demons in 2012!
If you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy my Caledonia Fae urban fantasy series. The first book in that series, Blood Faerie, is available now, and you can read the opening pages at the end of this book. Azuri Fae, the second in that series, has a scheduled release date in late 2011.
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