Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel

by Ryans, Rae Z.

  “We all have to do our part. I am failing Father in controlling the demons. The Horsemen have failed, brother.”

  He dragged our foreheads together. “Then, do not enter the gates, ask for my assistance. You’ve done so a hundred times before, my brother. What halts you now?”

  Weakness, failure, Hallo, and so many other excuses popped into my mind, but it was my pride. The ABDA thought me the best extractor, but all this time I had enlisted the aid of other Archangels in rescuing the unreachable demons in the south.

  My brethren didn’t know the lengths I had gone to in order to save the others. Vanity blinded me, but I had to free them… the death, the destruction… my blackened soul didn’t deserve ascension, and rescuing others was all I could do to wash the horrors away. Pride turned the tables.

  My fingers curled into Michael’s collar, and I collapsed against his chest. His arms righted me and held my bony face within his hands.

  “He’s my lover. I’m in love... with him.”

  “Bloody hell, Dorian, what else?”

  “And he holds the keys. He’s the Keeper.”

  Michael’s eyes brightened. “How could you be so foolish,” he said through clenched teeth. “Does he have them all?”

  “I don’t know, yes… He doesn’t have mine.”

  “Change back at once. You know I hate seeing the bones, and you stink.” Michael waved his hand, releasing his blue magic. Clothing manifested in his palm. He handed me the fresh garments, but spoke little. Turning away from me, his magic engulfed his body. Essence clearing, he wore normal clothes, but a sword still hung from his belt. Two guns protruded from his waistband. Knives graced his thighs, hidden in holsters.

  “Arm up,” he muttered, tossing me two Colt .45’s, and I slipped them into a holster he supplied. “Where are they?”

  “Airship.” I glanced around the main foyer. He’d set it up as a home away from home, complete with a sofa, table, and various chairs. Either he was meeting with others here, or he was letting someone out when I wasn’t around. I didn’t visit as often as I should have.

  “Shite.” Blond brows creased with concern. “I can’t transport us onto a moving object.” Michael rubbed his forehead. “Too risky. We could end up in a wall or in the bleedin’ engine, and that’s if we’re lucky.”

  “Hallo said the same.” The lump swelling in my throat stopped me from swallowing and I nodded. Prison walls spun, and my aching body dissolved into the sofa. My shoulders rolled forward. Cain: I spoke to him, prayed for him, and hoped he held the strength to hold on until we reached him. “How long?”

  “It’s not the fact you love him that qualms me, Dorian…”

  Ignoring him, I stared at my trembling hands. Wincing, I felt Cain… his pain seared through me. It had to be him, and the thought of Boric inflicting the damage curled my fists. Silent tears fell, gurgled, and choked. My heart hammered and puttered.

  “You’ve thought of the alternative?”

  “Trust me… I do want to go home… not like that. Not… yet.” What I didn’t say was the actual truth. If I had Cain for eternity, why would I want to go home? He encompassed everything once associated with Heaven. My body curled, shivered, and trembled.

  Michael sat next to me. “I do understand more than others believe. You were right, you know. I loved before, still love her madly, but Father forbade us from pursuing our relationship.” Soft words flowed from the seraph’s lips, though the meanings were tainted.

  Bitter laughter ripped through my throat, and blue eyes blinked, as if I had gone mad.

  “Dorian, Dorian, you better not be where I think you are.” Hallo’s shrilled voice screamed in my head.

  Her pleas fell short. Whatever past Hallo and Michael had was none of my business, but this predicament affected us all.

  “We need your help,” my dry lips whispered. “Do the others share your opinion?” I leaned up and ran a hand over my scruffy beard. If the other Archangels, Father had assigned to Earth, wanted the world to remain ours, we could band together, drive the south back, and have our little slice of life for eternity. But we had to join forces; the ABDA was not enough. Korrigan wasn’t enough. I needed the Council of Seven at my disposal as well.

  “Most,” Michael said. “Rag won’t like this. Certainly not Metatron.”

  Raguel was the self-appointed leader of the Seven Archangels on Earth and had deemed them as the new Watchers, replacing the original Grigori. Metatron was their actual leader, but he’d stayed in Heaven. Instead of watching over the humans, they watched over the choirs of Angels living among the demons, witches, warlocks, vampires, and the ABDA. I never thought to ask why, but doubted it was a punishment. What other choice would Rag have, but to side with me?

  Hallowed’s voice reverberated again, hissing her displeasure. Bright, white illumination flashed, and her tall, delicate form winked into view. “I told you not to do this,” she said, shaking her finger in my face.

  “It wasn’t your decision to make,” Michael replied, standing. He was right since I led the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. “Nice to see you too, Hal.”

  Hallo shoved her nose into the air and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I’m here to talk some sense into my brother.” Red and green light followed her words, announcing the arrival of Fauna and Markos.

  I hung my head and shook it. “They cannot be here. Sheol is not a fucking country club. Leave now,” I spat. They were not alone, my fists clenched.

  Multiple sets of eyes blinked at me. Arguments erupted, and I covered my ears. Everyone but Cain stood in my domain. I sat back on the couch.

  “A human?” Michael rose and stood before Nicolai.

  Wide eyes turned toward me, and I shrugged. We didn’t have time for this debacle … distraction. They should not be in my abode … the walls of the damned … Sheol was for the dead and its protectors.

  Michael’s brows twisted, and his mouth dropped as he stared at the last man in all of humanity. “Fascinating… I must—”

  “Tell no one,” I said. “He’s mine,” I pointed to the mark on his neck, “see for yourself.”

  Michael nodded as Nicolai’s body trembled under our combined scrutiny. The bastard could die for all I cared, but the Archangels would do God knew what with him. Angels were always fascinated with humanity. Korrigan’s brow rose; Veric stared, stunned into silence, while Tomas jabbered, pointing to the beveled iron gates behind me. Had Hallowed, Fauna, and Markos forgotten the tour? The entrance of Tartarus was the least fascinating part of Sheol.

  Circling, like a vulture, Michael held his chin. Nicolai straightened his shoulders, his dark hair pulled away from his reddening face. Petre eased forward and slipped in front of his brother. Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the sofa, laughing. Everyone was there, except Cain, from Veric’s agents to my siblings. So much for Father’s rules.

  Tomas strolled the perimeter of the large room, muttering to himself. Veric’s agents did what most agents do best: nadda. Fauna and Mark spoke in low tones and stole glances at Hallo and Michael. Had I missed something? Probably, though, the question should’ve been, did I care? Not really.

  Shifting my legs, I levered myself from the couch, and long, lazy strides brought me before the identical twins—save for their scars, builds, and eye color. My arms crossed and my brow rose, waiting for one of them to speak.

  Silence won over their attentions, and all gazes turned to the wiry Petre and beefier Nicolai Von Baron. Their choices in life reflected more—one a pompous lord and the other a man of the cloth. Petre faced his brother. Blue and gray eyes blinked at one another before the twins settled into a glaring contest. Black brows twisted, as if Petre was recalling something, but of course, I couldn’t read his mind.

  As his lips parted, my breath held.

  “You… this is your fault.” Petre patted his chest, his heart. “You cursed us… You murderer...” A low growl rumbled from within him, and furor sparked in his eyes. “Korri! Where is she?”
He spun around, his gaze scanning the room.

  Korrigan eased from behind Veric, but eyed the marble floor. Wetness shimmered and reflected on her pale cheeks, illuminated by the sconces lining the walls.

  “Korri,” he yelled, spinning and searching the crowd once more. “Angel—my Angel. What have you done with her?”

  The demanding shrill in his voice sent shivers along my skin. She trembled and stared at her hands. Michael whispered, but I didn’t catch his words. The scene before me transfixed my attention. Love conquered and hope bloomed inside of me. Slowly, my breath released.

  Petre shouted her name again. Korrigan blinked. His breath caught, their gazes connecting. Along his cheeks, wet streaks glistened into the valley of his scars.

  Thomas strolled to her side and nudged her. Pain etched over Veric’s twisted face, and his hands rose, hiding the evidence. In a way, my heart broke for him.

  “What’s happening,” Michael whispered.

  I waved him off. “Love, this is love, Brother.”

  Petre broke the spell without anyone’s help. Two for two? I didn’t know how, nor did I care. Emptiness encompassed me. Again, I held my breath; my hand habitually seeking for Cain, but my empty grip reminded me where he was, and a tear slid free.

  Korrigan managed a small step forward. Petre grinned wide, bearing his fangy smile.

  “Angel.” Petre cupped her face

  My hand rubbed my heart, and I spun around, retreating to the couch.

  Nicolai’s chin jutted into the air. “Always the naïve one,” he snorted, “look at you now. Love sick and broken by a whore.”

  “Big words,” Michael said, and chuckled, “for the only human in a room of God’s deadly assassins. Tell me, Nicolai. Are your cods as large? Made of brass?”

  My head hung, supported by my hands. His amusing truth didn’t tickle my bones. I clenched my eyes shut; fists closed tightly, drawing warm blood from my palms. Petre kissed Korrigan’s head. Veric bit his lip, but nodded his acceptance. Two agents shadowed him, watching and waiting for his orders, but none came. A single tear slid down his cheek. No dry eyes in the place.

  “He is mine.”

  I blinked; the words hadn’t left my lips. My empty hand squeezed the air again, wishing for Cain’s presence to fill the gap.

  The three Horsemen stepped forward, joining Michael and me. Tomas muttered about the bare room and snapped his fingers. Chairs appeared, and he took his seat, motioning for the others to sit. He leaned on his cane. A smirk flashed across his goggled face, but my jaw only clenched.

  Concern and curiosity crossed my sibling’s faces. I scanned the small crowd searching for Belle. She too deserved a spot next to me. Her lithe form eased from behind the ABDA guards, and I motioned her forward.

  Introductions proved tricky since the Archangels often sneered at the Elioud. Belle’s high-heeled steps echoed in the room, and rising from the couch, I stole a side-glance at the Michael.

  A different tension entered the marbled room, one I knew all too well. A smirk played on Markos’ lips as Belle halted. Large, red eyes lifted. Michael reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. Markos’ smirk melted into a tight scowl.

  “You didn’t tell me how beautiful your junior was.”

  Crimson blush filled her cheeks.

  “Absolutely breathtaking.” Michael released her hand, but Belle froze.

  I swallowed my laughter, chuckling under my breath.

  “Sorry, poppet, didn’t mean to embarrass you. Always a pleasure to meet one of Lucifer’s children.”

  Markos grumbled.

  Belle swallowed, opened her mouth, but she shook her head. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper.

  Archangels held a beauty to them in appearance and voice, but our power was humbling in an awestruck way few truly understood. The Horsemen were Archangels, too, and like our brothers and sisters-in-arms, we all served a purpose.

  I motioned for Belle to sit. “Moving on to business… We, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are officially asking the Seven Watchers to intervene and form an alliance with the Arcadian government. Veric.” I motioned to him, and he stepped forward. “Represents the Arcadian Bureau of Demonic Affairs. Tomas stands as the Witches and Warlock council. Petre will lead my vampires.”

  Michael whispered, “And the Light Bringer?”

  Korrigan whirled around.

  “I’m getting there… Korrigan… I propose will lead us all.”

  Dark hair shook around her cherub face and her lips parted. She didn’t believe in herself, but I expected the reaction and nodded. Petre kissed her temple, but Korrigan’s temper flared into white knuckled fists and a stony stature.

  Michael said, “Rag won’t go for that without seeing her.” Pointing at her, his finger curled and summoned her forward. Korrigan didn’t budge. “She needs work… so much defiance and spark. Are they all this way?”

  I chuckled. Yeah, every last one of them. Like a spitfire waiting to explode. Cain was the same way. I glanced to Belle, then to Tomas. They all held Westcott blood… Lucifer’s blood.

  Michael shrugged. “Father made us choose the strongest and the most benevolent to fall. Is it any wonder his children are the strongest willed?” The smile in his voice twisted my spine. Our gazes met. “No, I think not. Wait here while I summon the others.”

  Michael’s blue aura flashed, and we shielded our eyes. The others muttered quietly among themselves, but Tomas, Veric, and Hallowed chatted with vivid and hardened expressions. Their whispers reached all ears, including mine. Petre and Korrigan sat in the corner, intertwined, staring into each other’s eyes and ignoring everyone else; their lips moved.

  Keeping time with every beat, my finger tapped. “None of this would’ve happened if I let him go.”

  “You don’t know that.” Belle touched my thigh and squeezed.

  Markos leaned over us. “She’s right, Dorian. You made the only decision you could.”

  I glanced away, hugging myself tight. “I let them take him anyway.” Laughter shook my shoulders. Figuring people out was my forte, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure a way to get Cain away from them. Past extraction missions weren’t as hands on. Sometimes, I knocked out a guard or two, but there’d been too many at the farmhouse, and the others had hid in the trees, like cowards.

  “We’ll get him back, boss. Right, Mark?”

  Mark? My brother gulped. He hated anyone shortening his name, hence why I did it.

  “Right.” His hand slid behind Belle and patted my shoulder.

  Maybe I was a shitty extraction agent, but I could still read a room or situation. I saw no way to safely rescue Cain from the Garland. Even with an alliance, we weren’t ready to take Garland down by force. But I couldn’t push Cain to the back burner and ignore the swollen ache rising inside of me. I grasped Michael’s sword. My fingers curled around the silver hilt. My feet tapped against the marble. Tears threatened to drown me from the inside out if we didn’t move soon.

  Patience is not my virtue.

  My eyes closed, and my mind reached for a memory. The first time I saw Cain when he’d strode through the door. My breath had caught, heat surging and coursing through my body, electrifying me from within. The rise of my belly had etched into my brain. His butterscotch eyes had captured me. Emotions I couldn’t have handled had reflected and overwhelmed my entire being. Love at first sight: the humans had called it, and I never believed until Cain reappeared and everything rushed over me.

  Belle brushed my arm and brought reality crashing back. Bloodshot eyes cried. Silence trickled across the waiting room. All gazes switched their focus on me. There it was. My weakness, my heart all laid out, and I bowed my head, burying my face into my hands. Without Cain, I was nothing more than a pussy-whipped asshole.

  “No,” Korrigan shouted; her words reverberated from the walls. “Tears are no weakness.”

  Remiel’s voice thundered. “The Light Bringer is correct.” His black hair fluffed i
n the breeze as he entered my abode, dressed in black from head to toe. Service weapons and his shiny, silver badge hung from his muscled body. Many of the Archangels also worked for the ABDA, heading or teaching the various departments. His hands hid behind his back.

  Remy surveyed us; his icy gaze settled on Korrigan. “You,” he said, and pointed to her. “You.” Belle next, followed by Tomas. “And you.” Remy ushered them aside. “You are pride.” He claimed Petre as sloth, Veric as envy, to which he rolled his eyes, and his cronies became greed. That left Nicolai, who had said nothing since his jibe. “You are a disgrace… but if I must… lust suits you.” Remy turned to me and grinned. “Dorian, did you enjoy my game?”

  I glared at him and assumed my siblings did the same. “Did Michael speak with you?”

  He nodded, clasping his hands to his front.

  “And?”

  “Of course, he’s in,” Saraqael said, her red fire scorching the floor. As usual, she wore a pantsuit. Unlike the others, her position in the ABDA was a technical role—she handled logistics and tech. Deadly in the field, she preferred computers, phones, and gadgets to guns. Still, her cheery smile was always a welcome sight. “As am I, though, I’m probably already up to speed.” Her boyfriend was my liaison.

  “And I’m always up for killing some bloody fucking scum,” Gabriel stated, storming into the room. His angular features solidified, as if becoming stone, and his bi-colored, blue and gray, eyes pierced me. Also dressed in the standard ABDA uniform, Gabe stood by Sara, arms crossed over his broad chest.

  He had a story, as did most of us, but it wasn’t mine to tell. However, few liked him, and even fewer understood the broody and brash Archangel who had once been Father’s faithful messenger to humanity. Perhaps I sympathized with him best. Like him, my purpose had altered the moment the humans had died.