Ransom (Redemption Series)

by R. K. Ryals

  "What choice do we have?" a female voice asked, and I recognized it easily as Sophia.

  She looked up as Lucas let the tent flap fall into place behind Conor, Monroe, and me, and the Exiled Angel nodded at her. Whatever passed between them gave her the resilience she needed as she faced off with Alessandro.

  "Any choice but that!" Alessandro exclaimed.

  I looked for Marcas and found him bound a few feet behind the table. He was seated on a chair, his hands tied and his face cloudy. And yet, despite his predicament, he stayed. He could have left, and I knew it. No ordinary rope could restrain a Demon. I had a sneaking feeling the S.O.S knew this. They just felt better seeing him bound, and it made me angry.

  "And what would you suggest, sir? That he take my soul?"

  I hadn't realized I'd spoken until a tableful of eyes turned my way. A few people stepped back, and I gasped as an elderly woman with white-peppered dark hair grinned at me from the table.

  "Maria," I whispered.

  She glanced at Alessandro, her son, before standing slowly, her walk stiff as she moved toward me.

  "Hello, child. Your glow has gotten stronger." She paused a moment as if for dramatic effect then sighed. "It is magnificent."

  Her words were loud, and I knew she meant them to be. She wanted them to know my power had grown. But what she didn't tell them was what she whispered to me as she stopped before me, her wrinkled hand coming to rest on my face.

  "Your glow is tinted, child. Edged in red. I have never seen this before."

  Of course, she hadn't. Marcas had combined our powers. I glanced at the Demon over her head.

  "I won't give up my soul."

  I announced this to the room.

  "They would not force you to do so," Maria said matter-of-factly, her stern gaze moving to Alessandro.

  The leader of the S.O.S. was quiet, his head bowed as he took a fortifying deep breath. The Swords of Solomon was not a group in the business of giving souls to Demons. I knew this. But they had also never been faced with a situation like ours before. What do you do when you have a bound Demon and Angel who could side with either Heaven or Hell? Either decision would cause war on Earth. And no one wanted to risk that.

  "We could kill the Demon."

  This was suggested by a man I didn't know, and I glared at him. He was tall, his body encased in dark robes. His face was mostly covered.

  "That isn't an option," Conor said from beside me, his voice low and menacing. "You kill him, you kill the girl. And you'd have to kill me first."

  I smiled, my hand finding Conor's. He was an amazing friend. And a brother to me in so many ways. I truly loved him. His hand squeezed mine. Monroe had moved closer to me, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

  "The ring will unbind them. And they will no longer be a danger to us. The Demon could return to Hell," Monroe said, her eyes locked beseechingly on someone beyond Alessandro's shoulder. I recognized her brother, Ethan, immediately. Ethan stepped forward.

  "My sister is right. We are no better than Satan himself if we kill the Naphil by killing the Demon."

  Alessandro let his gaze sweep the room.

  "And if it all goes wrong? If the Naphil doesn't trap the Demon, if the ring kills her, if the Demon is unable to deny the ring's temptation? What then? What happens then?"

  No one answered. And when a voice finally rose among the group, it wasn't a member of the S.O.S., it wasn't an Angel, and it wasn't even one of my friends. It was the enemy.

  "The girl lives," Marcas announced, his head bowed as he sat stoically in his straight-backed chair, his prison. "Whatever you decide, the girl lives."

  All eyes moved from the Demon to me.

  "And if we choose otherwise?" Alessandro asked.

  Marcas lifted his head, his eyes redder than I'd ever seen them.

  "Then you all die."

  It was a threat well worth heeding. And one dire enough to make me shudder. For some reason, he was choosing to protect me. He had chosen to protect me from the beginning. And for that reason alone, I silently threw my lot in with him completely. My loyalty was decided.

  For a time, no one spoke. There was a lot unsaid in Marcas' warning, a lot implied. I'm sure many wondered if we had crossed the line with the bond. Had we become more to each other? I could have answered that question easily. But I left my opinion unspoken. And the people in the room with us made their own judgments.

  In the end, it was Sophia who made the final decision. She was, after all, the messenger sent by Heaven to take control of the Seal when the S.O.S. failed to protect the carpet.

  "We'll use the ring to unbind them. Then the Naphil will join the Exiles until her place in Heaven can be decided. The Demon will return to Hell."

  Neither Marcas nor I argued. There seemed to be no reason to speak up, no reason to debate the issue. Our being bound complicated things. It made people afraid. And the only way to keep both sides from using the bond as a way to dominate the other was to end it.

  "We stay here for now. The Naphil has a few things to learn before we continue," Sophia said calmly, her eyes locking with Lucas.

  I didn't disagree with them, but I also objected heartily to staying in the desert.

  "You do realize that Lilith would love nothing better than to have us in her control?" I asked, my feet moving forward slightly. The soft woven rugs felt good against my raw, chilled feet, and I paused on the fabric. "And her son, Damon, won't allow any of you to interfere with his plans,"

  My points were valid ones. If we were going after the ring, waiting was the worst thing we could do. We needed to go now.

  "And you believe rushing the endeavor will better your chances of survival?" Sophia asked.

  I faced off against Marcas' ex-girlfriend, my face as determined as hers. An Angel she may be, but I felt my powers move beneath my skin, the electric feeling growing with each passing moment, and I knew I could hold my own. She didn't intimidate me.

  "Not my survival, Angel. Earth's. Lilith has every intention of using her son and me for her own gain."

  Alessandro swore.

  "Another compelling reason why they're a danger to us all," he muttered.

  There were a lot of nods in the room. Many agreed. But they wouldn't fight with an Angel, and Sophia had made her choice. She ignored the men next to her.

  "And you believe leaving now, untrained, would be better than waiting a day or two? You astound me, Naphil. You've seen what could happen to you. You've been to a place no mortal nor Angel should ever go, and yet you want to continue with no real control of your power?"

  People began shifting nervously. Sophia was trudging off the beaten path, discussing things no one in the room other than Marcas, Lucas, and I were aware of. But she was right. I had been to a place no one should have been able to survive. But she was also wrong because there was a reason I hadn't died. I took a deep breath, my agitation more than a little evident.

  "I have control of my power."

  "Maybe you believe you do."

  I had enough. Sophia was goading me, and I let her. I let her because I wanted to be angry. I let her because I was tired of the political bullshit, of being dragged through a quagmire of shortcomings, death, and fear. A Demon had killed my mother, my father was an Exiled Angel, and I was tied to a Demon whose mother and brother both wanted to use me for their own gain. Only the innocent had been hurt in this "tug-of-war" game, and I was tired of grieving. My sister, Amber, should never have been brainwashed into siding with my aunt, and my mother should have never been murdered.

  "Damn you all."

  It was the same words I'd uttered in Hell while looking in a mirror, but this time I said it aloud, my eyes narrowed. A small wind moved intentionally through the tent, and I guided it to Marcas, my attention on his ropes. They began to slither like snakes, each end twisting until the thick cords fell away.

  "Her eyes," someone whispered, but I ignored them.

  Anger felt good. It’s easy to be angry
—even easier to wield it in a fashion that belies all normalcy. Why wouldn’t it be? Anger is one of the most powerful, most fundamental human emotions. It defies all logic and gives substance to the war we fight daily against good and evil. I wanted to use it, knew it could make me stronger, knew it could transform me like nothing else. But I also knew it could destroy me. For there is one thing stronger than anger, one thing more powerful than malice. Love.

  "You get one day," I told Sophia, my hand motioning to the Demon now standing in front of the chair he'd been tied to.

  What he wouldn't do himself, I'd done for him. He'd proven to these people that he wouldn't leave. I wasn't staying here if they were going to continue to test us.

  "But Marcas will train with me. Lucas can be his second. And we will wait no longer than 24 hours."

  I was done being "pushed." They needed me. I didn't need them.

  "She's turning," a voice whispered frantically, and I heard snatches of conversation as people whispered amongst themselves. The word "red" circulated the room, and I knew my eyes must look like Marcas'. But this didn't matter to me anymore. All that mattered was getting the ring.

  "You gain nothing from making them afraid of you," a wise voice whispered, and I looked over to find Maria standing at my elbow.

  I had walked away from Conor and Monroe, moving to stand alone in the center of the room. And Maria had followed.

  "They do not fear me."

  This I was sure of. I had made too many blunders, had leaned too heavily on the Demon I was bound to. But Maria looked unconvinced.

  "If you saw what I saw now, you'd be afraid, child."

  Maria's eyes held a conviction I couldn't deny.

  "And what would that be?"

  Maria pulled on her rosary, her eyes bright as she stared at me.

  "You aren't bound to the Demon anymore."

  It was a statement I most definitely didn't expect, and I turned on her. The room was too full of infuriated whispers, fears, and continued debates for anyone to notice a small, elderly woman, and a tired Naphil covered in sand.

  "What?" I asked, stunned.

  Maria leaned forward, her lined face only inches from mine.

  "Two have become one."

  She didn't say more, just walked away, her gaze intent as she moved purposely up to her son.

  "They need the Seal."

  Alessandro looked down at his mother, his gaze searching. It was more than obvious that Alessandro trusted her, that he valued her opinion above all. Her comment rang through my head, two have become one. It had been said with an urgency that both frightened and thrilled me. And the look she gave Alessandro now was as urgent as the one she gave me. He looked from his mother to Sophia.

  "I concur with the Naphil. We shouldn't tarry in the desert longer than necessary."

  Sophia wasn't pleased, but she never argued. I grudgingly admired her for this. No matter my strength now, no matter my convictions, she still held the highest rank in the tent, and she didn't use it to dictate her own desires. Instead, she looked over at me and nodded. It was a small nod, the only concession she seemed willing to make.

  People began trickling out of the tent. There was no command to retire, but there also seemed nothing left to discuss. In the end, only eight out of maybe twenty people remained—Lucas, Sophia, Alessandro, Maria, Conor, Monroe, Marcas, and I. The tent wasn't silent for long.

  "What happened to you?" Conor asked from my shoulder, but I didn't turn around, didn't look up at him. I knew my demeanor tonight surprised him, but I had no answer. Hell had been an experience I couldn't share. It had changed me.

  "I could ask the same of you," I said instead. He gave me no response. But our silence said it all. And in our silence, there was also companionship, a moment of connection borne from our own secrets.

  "You know I'll always have your back."

  He said it softly, and I fought not to lean toward him, to just give up this charade of continuous strength, and rest.

  "And I yours."

  Somewhere in this whole ordeal, Conor and I had met on a plane of friendship I'd never be able to share with Monroe.

  "If you two start swapping spit, I'm gone."

  Speak of the devil. I grinned. There was just no way I could frown in Roe's presence.

  "I love you, you know that," I said on a laugh as she winked before pulling a hand out from behind her back. In it, she clutched a dumdum lollipop.

  "How much?" she teased.

  I was too busy salivating to answer. Sugar. Ahhhh. It's amazing how the simplest things in life can make you feel so much better.

  "I don't guess you have another one of those," Lucas suddenly asked, and I looked up to find both Sophia and Lucas eyeing the candy with something akin to envy.

  Marcas hadn't been kidding in Italy when he'd hinted that Earthbound Angels had a thing for sweets. Like a nectar of the gods. The thought made me chuckle. And then I looked up at Marcas and all my humor fled. He was quiet, his eyes hard as he stood behind Alessandro. No matter how comfortable I was with the group surrounding me, Marcas was still their enemy.

  "I think it's time we rest," Alessandro said suddenly, his eyes moving between me and the Demon. He pointed toward the tent's entrance. "The girls can remain here in the main tent."

  With this said, Alessandro moved past us quickly, his eyes avoiding mine as he exited. Something told me he still preferred eliminating Marcas and me.

  "I guess that's my cue," Conor mumbled before winking at us girls. He followed Alessandro.

  "Which leaves me and the Demon. Marcas, after you," Lucas said, his sky blue eyes sharp as Marcas swept through the room. It made sense that the S.O.S. would have an Angel guard Marcas. Only Lucas and Sophia had the power to detain him. Why they'd need to was beyond me. Marcas wasn't leaving until we found the ring. This I was certain of.

  "Be ready early, Blainey,” Marcas said in my head as he moved past.

  I fought hard not to look up at him, my mind working frantically to block my thoughts so Sophia and Lucas wouldn't be aware of Marcas' communication. We had spoken mind to mind right before we left Hell, but I hadn't expected it to happen again. A warm feeling traveled through my body. I hadn't realized until now how much I wanted to hear him speak.

  "I'll be ready."

  The tent flap closed behind the last two men, and I stood staring at Monroe, Sophia, and Maria.

  "Is there a place to bathe and change?" I asked, my eyes searching the room.

  Sophia glided toward me, the dress she wore to the reception in Hell suddenly transforming into flowing white robes. She shone, her body clean before it ever made it to me.

  "Cleaning yourself can be done using the same technique as creating clothes or using your night vision. We all saw you untie the Demon. The power to clean is nothing compared to that."

  I noticed she never said Marcas' name. Instead, she generalized him, as if calling him a Demon would make her care less. But I saw her eyes, and what they represented was something I didn't want to see.

  "And if I prefer some privacy?" I asked. Sophia smiled. It wasn't a friendly sight.

  "For now, you and the Demon are not allowed such privileges."

  I stared at her. Was she serious? I glanced at Monroe and noticed her eyes were averted. Maria didn't look away, but she didn't argue. Was I considered an enemy now too? Anger swept through me again, and I looked directly into Sophia's eyes as my body began to glow. Dirt and grime melted away, and I knew without looking that my dress had transformed from the silver work of art Marcas had created to the bootcut jeans and white off-the-shoulder tee I'd imagined in Hell. The word "Angel" gleamed as I stepped back from Sophia. I smiled, my teeth clenched.

  "The hell with privacy then."

  I walked away, stopping only when I'd reached the makeshift beds on the side of the tent.

  "It's not you they don't trust," Monroe said softly from behind me, and I knew she'd followed me.

  I turned to her, my eyes wet wit
h tears I refused to shed.

  "Yes, it is."

  I was bound to a Demon. And I had chosen to run with him, to go in search of a ring he believed would set us free. I had lied, I had stolen, and I had followed him. And, because I had chosen to believe in him despite my reservations, I had made myself the enemy as well.

  "He's not our enemy."

  I said it because I believed it. Monroe reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  "Can you be sure?"

  I looked her directly in the eyes.

  "More certain than I have ever been about anything."

  She nodded, her other hand reaching out to take one of mine. I felt the dumdum in my palm as she withdrew.

  "I'm with you, Dayton. Always have been."

  She moved to a cot next to mine and lay down. I followed suit, turning so that my back was to Maria and Sophia. The Angel wouldn't sleep, and the old woman looked like she had a lot she wanted to discuss. I just wanted to rest. My eyes caught Monroe's.

  "All for one . . ." I said. She grinned.

  "And one for all."

  I unwrapped the lollipop, stuck it in my mouth, and closed my eyes, my heart lighter than it had been as I concentrated on the blackness behind my lids.

  "You're not alone, Marcas."

  I'm not sure why I thought it, not sure why I broadcasted the words, and I wasn't even sure Marcas heard. The lollipop melted on my tongue, and I moved it around my mouth until it had completely dissolved before letting the stick fall to the rug beneath the cot.

  "Rest, Blainey."

  I dozed with his words echoing through my head.

  Chapter 15

  The Seal was never meant to be worn by anyone other than Solomon. The power of the ring is irresistible. If the wearer is not able to control the ring, then the ring will control the wearer.

  ~Bezaliel~

  How I knew Marcas was there was beyond me, but I felt his presence even while sleeping.

  "It's time, Blainey."

  He didn't have to tell me twice. I opened my eyes, my gaze landing on the six-foot-something Demon clad in jeans and his classic black tee, and I pushed myself off of the cot. We had 24 hours to train.