What were God’s scoundrels and Hell’s courtesans going to do with this shattered world if four powerful Archangels couldn’t do shite?
A dial tone was emitting from the phone in my hand. I pressed end and tapped the thick antennae against my lips before placing it on my desk. A fleeting thought passed through my mind, one I didn’t want to set into motion but saw little choice. My hand rested on my collar; the key made all the difference, but I didn’t want to end the world... I stared at the plaster-covered ceiling. But I would if it meant Cain, women, men, and children would never suffer at the hands of Boric Garland.
In the distance, a train whistle blew its warning alarm. I checked my watch as I rose from my chair again, turning to study the world outside of my window. The three o’clock came into the station. I turned off the oil lamp and ran a hand over my beard. Cain stirred and the whistle blared again. My knees cracked and my muscles stretched the weariness away. Wood boards creaked overhead and windows rattled, alerting me that he had woken. The steam engine chugged into the platform.
Glancing at the ceiling, I said, “What am I going to do with you?” but I averted my gaze. What Cain would become to me had no name. Time would tell, or rather time would show me what I meant to him. Mirroring the demons in the south, he had blindsided me.
I stood in front of the large window, overlooking my snow-encrusted lawn and the train station. Snow endlessly cried from the dark sky. Its tears glistened from various surfaces as horse drawn buggies beat their hooves over the old streets.
The utopia I had once envisioned hadn’t included Cain, or the likes of Boric Garland for that matter, but Boric was another thorn lacing pain through my Achilles heel.
An alien term and notion to me was love, or at least it had been until the day we met. Did I love Cain? Maybe. Yes. No. I had no clue what love was anymore. Eons ago, I thought I understood love until the man holding my heart squeezed out every bit of it, leaving behind a solid black, icy orifice. I vowed that day never to let love control me again.
Neither Cain nor I seemed keen on letting the other one in, but I refused to let him go. Yet that still wasn’t love. We raised the bar and built ironclad walls around ourselves. The same resistance I saw in myself was mirrored in Cain, but what secrets could he need to hide from me?
His footsteps pattered on the staircase, and the small door leading to the first floor creaked, followed by my office door.
My secrets were huge on the grand scale. A Horseman, Death… God’s own Angel of Death and destruction followed my path. He would fear me, hate me… everyone else did.
His warm arms encircled me from behind, and I leaned against Cain. The comfort seeped deeper than my soul. The simple thought of moving from the embrace left trepidation in its wake.
He whispered in my ear, “You need to sleep.”
My hands folded over Cain’s, and I stared out the window. Snowflakes danced in the howling breeze and whisked across the serenity of Nova Scotia. Same as my façade. Merely a farce meant to lure the unsuspected into its frigid grasps.
Cain added, “The view is beautiful.”
I spun in his arms and gazed into his caramel eyes. The earlier pain had disappeared, and in the low firelight, they twinkled. Compassion and love were not my usual emotions, and I skated on dangerous ground. Cain had distorted my view, yes, but failing the case could lose him forever. And if I ran from the job, as he’d suggested, what type of man would that make me? I wasn’t a hero, but I wanted to become his champion.
“My view is breathtaking.” I kissed his roughening cheek. He rolled his eyes, and I switched direction toward the case. “I need more details about your sister and what you recollect of Garland.”
Cain glanced away and glowered. “I told you not to take the case.” He stormed to the chair in front of my desk, his heat vanishing. He fidgeted with his clothing. “I will find another way to save her.”
I lit a cigarette and drew his dagger stare. “The ABDA decides now.” I sat as well and crossed my legs. “You do realize I work for them, right?”
“Hard to miss, sweets.” His shoulders tensed.
Most clients didn’t realize I belonged to the ABDA until they arrived, but I never hid the fact on purpose. In my pocket was the badge, and I had T-shirts, mugs, you name it. They owned my ass when it came down to the law. But the clients were not privy to my Horseman status.
“Babe, we’ve been over this. There’s no one better than me. Even if there was…” Was what…? I wanted to end the pain in his eyes. But I had other motivations, like figuring out why the demons hunted Lily and if she could create purple fire. What made a witch or warlock-hybrid more prized than say an Elioud? Why and, for that matter, who had locked Cain’s records?
The chair creaked as I unfolded from it and strode around the desk. I offered my hand to Cain, heaving his not so light frame from the chair, but I didn’t let go. Instead, my arms slipped around him, and I drew him closer. Cain’s arms ran over my chest, rubbing warmth into my dead heart.
“We can talk later after you’ve gotten more rest.”
He released me and backed toward the staircase. Cain cocked his head and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
My fingers curled into his shirt. “You thought I’d let you out of my sight?” I yanked him back to me and kissed him, sliding shaky hands over his arms, tracing them along his shoulders until halting at his rough face. “If they stole your sister, babe, they’ll come for you too.” And I will be there in the shadows, waiting with a one-way ticket to Sheol. “No secrets. They end now. The bloody lies as well. I can’t protect you or save Lily without all the facts this time.”
“Protect me?” Amusement sparked in his expression, and his thumb slid over my lips. “I’ve done fine on my own, sweets.”
Cain would not budge and dump all his secrets, but I had to try. But he wasn’t leaving my sight until I found out why his last name… no, his actual name… why had the ABDA barred me from it. They knew my rules. My brow rose, and a sigh hissed through his kissable lips. Parted ever so slightly, a pink tongue grazed the bottom. A ploy, I gathered and crossed my arms over my chest.
Wide shoulders rounded forward. “Fine. Let me call work.” The train chugged away, and the walls rattled. “Tomorrow though we… chat.”
I guided him up the stairs. Cain had refolded the blanket and draped it over the couch. The fire crackled and hissed, roaring and heating the living room into an inferno. Within moments, sweat beaded on his forehead. He knelt before the hearth and closed the mesh screen. The glass door squeaked, gliding along its wheels. I watched from the doorway of my bedroom, leaning my weight against the crown molding. Cain rolled onto his heels and in one fluid motion, rose to his feet.
Inch by inch, my ABDA t-shirt lifted from his lean torso. “Talk about tempting the devil,” I mumbled, as his shirt hit the floor. Without words or thoughts, my legs crossed the distance and grasped his hands. Cain jumped; my heart sped as he lifted his gaze, rolling it over my body. Dark lashes blinked, temporarily hiding the ache in his eyes.
“Do I get a goodnight kiss?” he whispered, but shied toward the couch.
Sweaty palms grew cold without his touch. “C’mon,” I said, and angled my head toward the bedroom door. Even if he wanted to sleep alone, there were two spare bedrooms on this floor. Cain glanced between the door and the couch. “Just sleep… promise.”
A slow nod did little to hide his audible gulp. Childlike innocence reflected in that moment and pieces of the real Cain shined through… the scared, frightened man who had lived through more than he led on, and the man who quickly stole away with my heart. This had nothing to do with his name, locked records, or his sister. No, it had everything to do with the man who’d haunted my dreams and waking moments, the man I ran from, not out of fear of physical harm, but because he altered me inside and out, tearing through the walls with only a melting smile.
Dreams arrived, and much like the cries of the tortured souls lock
ed away in Sheol, the calls of my brethren roared through my ears. We were connected, the four of us. Serenity fell over the area. Blue skies lit by the sun greeted me, and I squinted into the sudden brightness.
An oasis in the deserted lands of Eden was the evening’s choice. The babbling of a brook and fresh air surrounded me. My heavy boots traveled the distance to where my family awaited. Time didn’t exist here in Eden, for it no longer stood.
The humans had eventually confused it with another lost city, spending countless lifetimes and money to find the hidden gem. The birthplace of humanity occurred within its walls. The apple tree that undid the innocence of Eve still stood, but this scene was merely a painted vision.
Fauna spoke first. “The quakes are growing worse. I fear another sundering.” Her lavender eyes revealed no emotion and neither did her tone. Wild, gray hair was spun and weaved into a bohemian, aka I do not bathe often, style. Fauna’s tastes bordered along not quite eclectic, but as the Mother of Poison and Magic, her natural state didn’t surprise me. For the meeting, she dressed to her version of the nine’s, and that meant no clothing as usual.
I smirked, removed my jacket, and handed it to her. Fauna sneered and rolled her eyes. At least she didn’t fondle herself… yet.
“The storms too,” Hallowed echoed in the same indifferent tone. At least her clothing tastes were sensible, but deadly and malicious when it came down to protecting our world.
My family wasn’t without the capability of emotion, but we had this conversation enough to realize the implications and concerns. I sat on a fallen log, and my hand waved through the air. “I thought the storms were Markos’ doing.”
Dressed in his usual leather garb, my brother shook his head. Silver knives, swords, and throwing stars hid beneath a long, black duster. We were a mirrored image, except for our eyes and hairstyle. Where I preferred messy, he was tidy.
He snorted and bore his crimson gaze into mine. “Brother, I live for more than destruction.”
I returned his snort, mocking him, and a grin lit his features. Markos lived for the flesh; whether it bled, or screamed his name in pleasure, hadn’t mattered. According to the rumors, his chosen mates were all willing, and he never forced himself on man or woman. The picture he thrust onto others was a rouse, like my skin.
Fauna asked, “Then what is it?”
“Father,” Hallo said, lifting her head toward the sky. “He grows impatient with our progress, or lack of it.”
“We could end it all.” Night after night, we digressed into the same banter. I realized how naive we had been in thinking everyone would police themselves. That somehow the ABDA would rise up and overthrow Garland. But we didn’t have the power either, yet few knew that truth. Because of it, I allowed others to fear my presence, the same for my siblings. We had one failsafe, but that meant annihilation of all, including ourselves.
“No,” the three Horsemen shouted at me.
White light flashed before me as Hallo manifested. Heaven forbid she walked the two feet. “Have you not learned anything, Dorian?”
Silence fell as I bowed my head.
“Your insistence on self-punishment will ruin us all.”
“This isn’t about me.”
Hallo shoved me, but I didn’t budge.
“Sister, love comes easy—”Her cold stare cut my words, and heat flushed my cheeks. I whispered, “He made you beautiful, all of you… you don’t understand.”
“He made us all flawed, Brother. You are not the only one who suffers ridicule and hatred. We all suffer.” Hallo’s scarred flesh flashed before my eyes.
Fauna’s puss filled boils and Markos’ blackened skin followed. We each had built our own walls, but they were still beautiful to me.
Hallo poked my chest. “The south threatens us all. Our livelihood is in your hands, Dorian. We must take out Garland before he obtains more keys.”
“How? We can police our own, the angels, warlocks, witches, and vampires, but not the blood demons or those who crawled from Hell’s arse crack.”
Markos stifled a snicker, but I was right. Vampires, witches, and warlocks were under our control, but not the Elioud, Nephilim, or demons from Hell. The mythos spoke of such a person, one who would hold dominion over all, but most stories weren’t 100 percent true.
Fauna whispered, “They’re not just stories.” She sat beside me on the log.
I rolled my eyes and stretched. My feet crossed in front of Markos.
Mark slanted his head. “There is a rumor…”
“Rumors don’t interest me.” I shifted my weight and crossed my arms over my chest.
Unfettered, Hallowed repeated my movements. “No, you’re a man of fact… so why is it an enigma sleeps in your bed?”
Heat flooded my cheeks and my gaze eyed their feet. How did they know anyone was in my bed?
“Did you fail to notice you’re sleeping with the enemy? We sure didn’t,” Fauna said.
“Cain isn’t—”I glanced to her.
Hallowed’s blonde brow rose. “One of the seven? Keeper of the Keys? A Prince of Hell? Tell me when I’m getting warm, Brother, because I know you’ve questioned why and how he kicked your ass before.”
Despite her being correct, I scoffed and stared at her booted feet. Even though the facts slammed into my face at every turn, I’d fought the reasoning. But Keeper of Keys? It was a fairytale. “Seven keys to unlock the Gates of Hell. Supposedly, Father had given them to seven fallen families at the dawning of time, not the Arch demons, but their offspring. When combined, the story says they will unleash the Morning Star, and the world ends, nothing more than a diluted fairytale, including the King of Babylon.” The facts were all wrong, another man made myth. “Doubtful he could obtain all the keys, or Boric’s key, for that matter. If they exist,” I countered.
Because if by some stretch of the imagination those seven keys were real, they would have meant nothing without mine. What I’d vowed never to share was what the key unlocked, or that Father had given it to me, with anyone other than my family. Regardless of what they thought, Cain didn’t know about it. Who said he knew anything about the other keys? He cared about finding his sister… Hell, he hadn’t wanted me to take the case. The pain in his eyes… No, they were wrong. No way was Cain a Prince of Hell.
Markos blinked, striding to my side and towering over me. His hand fell upon my shoulder. “You sound sure, Brother.”
“Does it matter?” Fauna stretched. “Cain is one of ours. Surely we know the truth.”
“He’s a warlock and Elioud, so no, but I do believe he requires a gentler hand,” his gaze flickered to Hallowed, “isn’t that right, Sister?”
My dream-self smiled, rose, and patted his chest. Silence encompassed us again, but I thought of the legends surrounding Revelation. The sigils and horns had ended. We had survived as Father had foretold.
I had the final key; I was the Gatekeeper of the world until Heaven fell to the Earth. Boric Garland would have to collect all seven keys, defeat me, and enter the realms of Sheol and Purgatory to unleash the Golem. Even if he succeeded, I still held cards up my sleeves. Just because I couldn’t kill him didn’t mean I couldn’t destroy his empire.
“Boric still needs a good knocking,” Fauna said, drawing my attention. “His slavery rings are tearing the world a part on another level. One none of us was ready for, even though he was doing this long before the Sundering. How is a question no one can answer.”
Markos stepped away. “Michael wouldn’t let us, remember? We tried to take him out before Asmodeus gained power but those seven bloody Archangels stood in our way.”
“Six, Gabriel wasn’t on Earth yet,” I corrected. “I have my suspicions.” Though no one wanted to hear, one of our own had to have been responsible.
Hallo broke into the conversation, her fists balled at her sides. “And where are they now? Hiding in the crevices and clouds? They can stop him, but they refuse.” She released a long breath. “Will your hordes obey, Ma
rkos? Lend your aid to the ABDA and protect those who remain innocent.”
He laughed and tossed his head backward. “Whores and demons aren’t innocents.”
My brow rose at Markos’ insolence, but he seemed unfettered. The amount of imaginary lovers he kept fuddled his mind. “Mark, how can you pass judgment on those who are trying to survive? And those in the south? They have no choice.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Death is always a choice. They choose otherwise.”
“But... the... children... How...” I couldn’t release the thought into words. “No wonder Belletrist despises you.”
Mark froze and cocked his head, as if understanding me for the first time. Belle, the woman he claimed to love, even if he never spoke the words, had refused to die at the hands of her owners. They’d beat her daily... I shook my head at him.
Fauna roared, “How dare you pass sentences.” She coiled her fists and green smoke poured from the clenched palms. Her wild, gray hair whipped around her face, and lavender eyes bore into our brother. “Father will rain down his fury if we cannot take control of the keys and the demons.”
Markos glared at her, his skin blackened in patches covering his face. “Don’t threaten me with your magic show. What are you, a child? Throwing a bit of a tantrum? I’ll show you power, little Sister.”
A smile played at Hallo’s lips as she stepped in between the two Horsemen and lifted her palms. “Enough.” Leaning down, she whispered, “Dorian, your Prince awakens. Find me soon, and do not worry about them. The lighthouse. We will fix this.”
I bowed as my mind darkened, and our connection broke. Hallo and I were the peacekeepers, and I awoke, chuckling at the thought.
The sun peeked through the curtains and warmed my face, but not as much as the arm and head nuzzled against my bare chest. Cain’s fingers brushed through the dense hair. Saltiness from my arousal filled my nostrils. His touch bordered along magical, each shock registering in my brain.
Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel Page 8