Angelbound THRAX

by Christina Bauer

  “Go for it.”

  Fast as a heartbeat, my tail wraps about Clone-Felton’s neck and slams the guy’s head into the wall. A low moan fills the air. Clone-Felton is now knocked out cold.

  “Good job, boy.”

  Keeping my firm grip on Iggy, I march through the doorway and into the lab. It’s a perfect match to the one in the Times Square, only everything here is black. It’s still plastic and sterile-looking, though. A med table sits in the center of the round room, and on that table is Lincoln. The glass covering isn’t on him or anything. My breath catches.

  He’s here.

  I’ve found him.

  That little voice comes back into my head, warning that life never is this simple for me. I tell it to take a hike and approach my Angelbound love.

  For once, my life will be this simple. I know it.

  I step closer, soaking in every inch of my husband’s appearance. Broad shoulders. Bare chest. Messy brown hair. Torn jeans. My Lincoln.

  He’s here again before me. At last.

  Rushing over to the table, I grip his shoulder. “Lincoln, can you hear me?” He looks bruised and bloody, but not too cut up. I’m taking that as another minor miracle.

  His eyes flutter open. “Myla, is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” My tail slices through Lincoln’s ties like they were tissue paper. Wrapping my arm around his shoulder, I help him sit up. “Is it really you?”

  His mismatched eyes twinkle. “Of course.”

  I shoot an anxious glance at the door. “Can you walk? We have to get out of here.”

  “I can try.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, and then fall into a deep embrace. Well, as deep as I can get while still holding onto Iggy. I nuzzle into Lincoln’s neck and inhale his scent. Forest pine and leather. Yes.

  “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I love you, Myla.” Lincoln leans back. “I knew you’d find me.”

  My little buddy pipes up. “Iggy helped.”

  Lincoln’s gaze locks on Iggy. “Am I seeing things…or is that a kid in a Darth Vader costume?”

  “No kid. Me Iggy.” Iggy lifts up his Dark Vader helmet for a moment and exposes his long face, bug eyes, and semi-glowing skin.

  “Put that helmet back on the right way, Iggy.”

  He complies, which is yet another miracle to add to the pile.

  “I take it back,” says Lincoln. “Is that a spaceman in a Darth Vader costume?”

  “Not exactly,” I say. “I’ll explain later. We have to vamoose, Lincoln.” I link the fingers of my free hand with Lincoln’s. Together, the three of us march out of the lab.

  A memory appears: the TV showing all those families lined up for the costume contest. To my eyes, it seemed like they were all a mother, a father, and a dressed-up kid. Now, I have that for real, even if it is a little temporary until my actual son arrives. I straighten my spine.

  My baby will be born, whole and healthy.

  Lincoln, Iggy, and I will escape.

  We’re closer to victory than ever before.

  The three of us march back into the main hallway. A sense of warmth and peace radiates through my veins.

  Finally. I have my Lincoln. We’re going home.

  The mental celebration doesn’t last for long, though. We get hallway down the outer corridor when more Razor Guards appear. Once again, these creeps have guns, and they aren’t afraid to use them.

  I give Iggy’s hand a squeeze. “Little boomer time.”

  “Little what?” asks Lincoln.

  “Just focus on trying to walk. Iggy and I will handle the rest.”

  “Little boomer,” agrees Iggy. “Need Great Scala to help.”

  “You got it.” I close my eyes and call out to my igni.

  “Melt their guns, little ones. Set them to sleep.”

  This time, Iggy’s power rushes through my body. I use the same focusing techniques I did when my igni first began screaming in my head at double-screech volume. Working in harmony with Iggy, I’m able to stop him from getting out of control. Only a handful of lightning bolts speed from Iggy’s free palm. This time, the bolts wind up the guard’s noses. A flare of brightness fills the hallway as the three guards drop to the ground.

  “That was unexpected,” says Lincoln.

  “Are they alive?” I ask Iggy.

  “Only sleeping this time.”

  I give his hand a little squeeze. “That’s great, Iggy. We’re getting better at controlling it together.”

  Lincoln tilts his head. “Who is this little creature again?”

  “I Iggy.”

  “Iggy is the physical manifestation of my igni on Earth. It’s a once in a lifetime-type thing.”

  “Aren’t you worried someone will capture him?” asks Lincoln. “They have cages on Earth that can contain creatures like Iggy. I’ve seen them on demon patrol.”

  “No, I’m more worried about Iggy losing control and blowing stuff up.”

  “But don’t you—”

  I hold up my pointer finger in a shh motion across my lips. It’s not normal for Lincoln to be so blabby during a mission. But considering what my guy went through? I can understand him being off his game.

  Once we’re all quiet once more, I scan the artery hallway ahead. It branches off in no less than three directions. I point to the one on the left.

  “That was the passage we came from,” I whisper. “It leads to this huge room of clone tanks. There’s a portal in there that can get us back to LaGuardia.” I rub my neck in a nervous rhythm. “If there’s a safer way out, I’d rather go that way. LaGuardia is crammed with tech and Ethan’s goons.”

  Lincoln shakes his head. “The clone tank room is the only safe exit.”

  I pause. “How would you know that?”

  He shoots me a snarky look. “I was trapped in a glass coffin, not deaf.”

  I’m still not processing this for some reason. “What do you mean, exactly?”

  “The guards and lab techs talk, Myla.” He takes some halting steps toward the far left passage, and I let him. “I can explain more later on, too.” He winks.

  Normally, I’d grill him on what he’d heard from the guards and lab techs, but we don’t have a ton of time. Plus, if anyone could mastermind a plan to find the safest escape route from an underground lab—all while tied down and pumped up with black smoke—then it would be my Lincoln.

  My Lincoln. The very thought makes me giddy. It’s beyond amazing to touch him again, even if it is only while we try to escape from our latest catastrophe.

  Soon, we’re back in the main clone room again. Lincoln leads us straight toward what looks like a typical door set in the far wall. He nods at the spot. “That’s the secret portal. The guards were talking about it.”

  “It’s the same one we came through.” My tail pushes the door open. A wall of black smoke greets us.

  “That magic,” says Iggy.

  “Right you are, my little friend.” I give his and Lincoln’s hands a squeeze. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Agreed.” Lincoln steps through first, then me, and last but not least, there’s Iggy. We’re still holding hands, so we resemble those little kids you sometimes see on walks during recess. I don’t care how we look, though. At this point, there’s no way I’ll let go of either of them.

  For a moment, heavy black smoke and pulsing red lights surround us. Then the magic disappears in a heartbeat. The three of us now stand crammed into a small space. The scent of port-a-potty slams into my nose. Everything outside sounds pretty normal.

  Kids screaming.

  Music blaring over the loud speakers.

  The roar of an engine as someone touches some tech.

  My shoulders relax a little. Lincoln was right. This is the best way to safely escape. We shuffle-walk our way deeper into the port-a-potty. It’s a tight squeeze, but after everything I’ve been through today? This is by far not the worst situation.

  The door back
to the laboratory clicks shut behind us, and that’s when my luck runs out.

  The walls around us start to bow outward. Someone is pulling this structure apart. Snapping sounds crackle in my ears as the seams start to tear. With a great thud, the walls of the port-a-potty collapse outward.

  Yes, we’re back at LaGuardia by the end of the minivan and potty aisle.

  No, were not alone.

  Sadly, the three of us are now surrounded by what looks like a small army. Hundreds of Razor Guards stand around us, along with just as many representatives of New York’s finest. Beyond them, the crowd gawks, holding up their cell phones to take pics. But that isn’t even the worst part. The drone of engines fills the air as a half-dozen helicopters lift off a nearby tarmac. They swoop about and head straight for our location.

  I fight a groan. As if it weren’t bad enough to be surrounded by police and Razor Guards. Now, a bunch of enchanted tech is heading straight for us.

  Iggy lets go of my hand. Standing aside, he raises his palm. “Iggy make bigga boom.”

  “No, Iggy.” I reach for him. “You can’t do this alone. You could hurt the humans.”

  At that moment, none other than Ethan steps forward from the crowd. He’s got on one of those zip-up onesies that race car drivers wear, only his is covered with Hunter Enterprises logos. With that, it’s official.

  My day has gone to hell.

  Ethan tilts his round head. “Hello, Myla Lewis.”

  “Hey there, dickhead.”

  “Brave words from someone who has been clearly outwitted.” Ethan’s gaze locks on Iggy. “Although, I must admit, this little addition was quite unexpected. It took some quick thinking on my part, but I’ve found the perfect way to lock your little friend up, too. It’s an enchanted cage.”

  Now, Lincoln had talked about something like this back at the lab. For my part, I’d never heard of enchanted cages that can lock up igni. But whatever it was, they’ve brought it in to capture Iggy. A pair of Razor Guards steps forward, carrying what looked like a coffin made out of metal mesh.

  I frown. What is it with Ethan and coffins, anyway? First glass, now metal. The dude was creepy enough without any extra help. And speaking of creepy, when did Ethan find out I had Iggy along? It must have been a while ago for him to crack out this trap.

  There’s no time to ponder Ethan and his scheming, though. The guards drop the metal coffin on the ground before Iggy. I lose my freaking mind. “What are you doing? If you imprison Iggy, what will happen to every soul in the after-realms?”

  Ethan sniffs. “I’ve seen plenty of odd creatures. I don’t care what this one does or doesn’t do. All I’m focused on is harvesting angelic soul power from specific targets. Now, if holding this little monster will inspire you to give me what I want, then that’s what I’ll do. Clear enough for you?”

  I kneel by Iggy’s side. “You have to leave. Go back to the after-realms.”

  “Iggy no go. No, no, no, no, NO.”

  “You have to. It’s too big a risk if you’re captured.” My voice is borderline hysterical, and I don’t care. If Ethan gets his hands on Iggy, he could stop millions of souls from moving to their final destination. Hell, he could shut down the entire after-realms. When I next speak, it’s like every word is torn from my soul. “Get out of here, Iggy. I don’t want you around.”

  There’s a flash of light inside the Darth Vader mask, and then Iggy’s costume tumbles to the earth. It feels like part of my heart has been torn out with him.

  Ethan’s brows lift. He leans over the spot where Iggy once stood. “I didn’t know he could do that.”

  “What a shock. You don’t know something, and yet you try to control it.” I kick the metal coffin. It lets out a satisfying clang.

  Lincoln rests his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t provoke him, Myla.”

  “What?” I pluck Lincoln’s hand off my shoulder. The movement triggers a memory, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. “Provoking is what I do.”

  Ethan shakes his head. “Silly little demon girl. You’re about to become intimately familiar with my laboratory. That can be pleasant or painful. It’s your choice.”

  On reflex, my free hand covers my belly. Whatever Ethan has planned, it can’t be good for my unborn son. I scan the grounds, my mind rushing through battle plans and options. There aren’t many.

  All of a sudden, an ambulance speeds across the tarmac, lights flaring. Ethan gestures to it. “Ah, your chariot has arrived. Just get inside without causing any trouble, and I promise not to hurt the child.”

  My eyes widen. “You know I’m pregnant?”

  “Of course.” Ethan grins. “What do you think this was all about, anyway? In time, your son will call me father. And once he comes of age, why, I’ll have the biggest harvest of angelic energy ever.” Ethan gestures between Lincoln and me. “After the pair of you, of course.”

  At those words, a chill crawls up my neck. Things may have been bad before, but I have a sinking feeling that they are about to get a ton worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  This is terrible.

  Lincoln and I are at Ethan’s mercy. Now, he’s got some souped-up ambulance tooling across LaGuardia, ready to take us away so he can drain our angelic energy. Only in my case, he’ll do that after the baby is born so he can ruin our son’s life too.

  What a disaster.

  The ambulance careens across the tarmac. Something about the way it zigzags seems way too familiar. Squinting, I try to make out the driver. It’s a Razor Guard, but some blonde curls peep out from under the Nazi-style cap.

  Could that be?

  The ambulance clips the back fender of a Humvee. I’ve seen that move before. No question about it. That’s definitely Cissy behind the wheel. She’s always been a crappy driver.

  The ambulance pulls up beside us. The back door pops open, and someone else who looks like a Razor Guard steps out. Only it’s definitely not a Razor Guard. How do I know this? The top of a monkey tail is peeping out from inside his jacket.

  That’s definitely Zeke.

  Sure, his face is covered with bandages, but I’ve known the guy since kindergarten. I blink hard and try to process this turn of events.

  Somehow, Cissy and Zeke took over an ambulance and found themselves some disguises. Cool relief seeps through my chest.

  I officially have the best friends in the universe.

  That said, I also have an army of Razor Guards and Ethan to deal with, but at least I’ve got backup.

  Ethan keeps glaring at me. I don’t mind because that means he hasn’t noticed Cissy or Zeke. Ethan gestures to the open door. “Get inside.”

  I take care to look especially miserable—it involves lots of sniffling—as I mope my ass in to the ambulance. Lincoln follows in right behind me. The interior of the vehicle is pretty standard stuff. There’s a cot on one wall and a bunch of drawers and tech on the other. Lincoln and I park on the cot. Once were both settled, Zeke steps in as well, slams the door shut, and pounds on the wall with his fist. “Move it out.”

  The ambulance lurches forward. Once we’re a safe distance away, I turn to Zeke. “Nice disguise.”

  He pulls down the bandages to expose his eyes. “I thought you couldn’t tell.”

  “Meh. I’m just that great of an actress.” I lean forward. “Tell me. How did you guys do it?”

  Zeke crouches on the floor beside our cot. “When you disappeared, Cissy and I knew something had gone wrong. We snooped and found out they were setting up this ambulance for a special pair of prisoners. After that, the rest was easy.”

  Up close, I can see the bruises on Zeke’s face. Blood drips from his fingertips. It wasn’t all that easy. “Thanks, Zeke. That means a lot.”

  Zeke notices how my gaze locks on his bleeding. He quickly jams his hand under his arm. “I’ll be fine, Myla.”

  Cissy calls over her shoulder. “There’s a checkpoint up ahead.” By the quavering tone in her voice, I can tell that my bes
tie isn’t sure how to pass this one. “Need your lust demon mojo, hun.”

  “Be right there.” Zeke pulls the bandages over his face again. “I’ve been working my lust demon magic all day. I swear, once we get back to Purgatory, I’ll sleep for a year.” He squeezes through the small opening between the back of the cab and takes a seat next to Cissy.

  I turn my attention to Lincoln. “How are you feeling?”

  He lets out a low cough. “I’ve been better. You?”

  “Ask me when we’re out of here.”

  My heart starts thudding a mile a minute as the ambulance rolls to a stop. Leaning forward, I get a good peep out the windshield. We’re at the end of a runway lined with tech. Before us, there are a bunch of empty runways followed by a small guardhouse. It’s a pretty classic setup as guardhouses go: a small black structure for the guard, along with a wooden arm that swings up when you can leave. Beyond that, I see the highway and freedom.

  We’re so close.

  All we need to do is pass this guard and checkpoint. And avoid Ethan and his Razor Guards until we can reach a Pulpitum, but one thing at a time.

  Cissy slows down beside the guardhouse. A regular human guard steps up to the ambulance window. “No one is supposed to leave by this exit.” She goes up on tiptoe. “But you’re the special case I heard about from HQ, eh?”

  Hope sparks in my chest.

  The guard is a woman. Considering Zeke’s specialty, that should be good for us.

  “We totally have clearance,” says Cissy. “Just let us go.”

  “Really?” asks the guard. “What’s the password?”

  Zeke leans across the front seat. “Hey, kitten.” Even from the back of the ambulance, I can feel Zeke sending out waves of lust demon power.

  The female guard stares at him like he grew three heads. “Kitten?” Her eyes narrow. “Only my wife calls me that, buddy.”

  Hells bells. She’s not into men.

  This is so very, very bad for us.

  The guard moves to stand right in front of the ambulance, aka blocking our exit past the swing-arm and onto the main street. “Wait right here.” She pulls a cell phone from her pocket. “Guard CK-90, requesting backup.”