Angelus

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Angelus Page 22

by Sabrina Benulis

Angela broke away from Kim and ran over to Father Schrader. She shoved back one of his long black sleeves, trying to feel for a pulse. There it was. Thank God, he was alive. But for how long?

  Well, now that we’re alone, we can get down to business, Python whispered. His serpentine body condensed amid a blinding violet smoke. When it cleared, he stood in his more human-looking demonic form, gazing curiously at Angela with his intense orange eyes. “Now if you’d be so kind as to get back on that altar,” he said to her, gesturing impatiently at the stone table and the urns.

  “Over my dead body,” Angela muttered.

  Python smirked. “Yes, that is entirely the point.” He looked to his left.

  Two angels had landed outside the tower. They notched their bows, aiming for Python’s head.

  He flicked his wrist and a wave of crackling red energy blasted toward them. They opened their wings and soared out of reach, becoming silhouettes amid a deep night sky, their forms only visible far over the ocean.

  “Something tells me those sparrows will be back again before long,” Python muttered. “So come now. I have more to do today besides bleeding you to death, Archon.”

  “So sorry,” Angela said, gritting her teeth, “but I enjoy making things difficult for you.”

  “Fair enough,” Python said. He winked at her. “I suppose I deserve your contempt by now.” He folded his arms, wandering dangerously close to her. “I must say, you’ve exceeded all my expectations, Angela. It was my fault to think I had you cornered in Hell. I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy to use you. This was one instance where my mother—much as I hate to admit it—had a clear advantage.” His eyes narrowed. “And you have no idea how much it cost me to escape her and come here. I doubt I can ever return, so I might as well settle down on Earth for a little while. Until the Book of Raziel is opened anyway. Then—I dare say I’ll aim a bit higher. It’s been a long time since I walked the crystal pathways of Malakhim.”

  “Lucifel wouldn’t let you get that far,” Angela said breathlessly. “How stupid do you think she is? I guarantee she’ll kill you the moment you enter Heaven.”

  Python smiled. “Oh, you should have more faith in me than that by now. I’ll make sure the Book is opened first, remember? And at that moment, I’ll have much more power than Lucifel. She’ll be nothing then but a toy dog snapping at my heels.”

  “First you need the Book,” Angela said. She allowed a note of triumph in her voice. “And I don’t see Sophia, so—”

  “But you see, the Book will always return to you as long as you’re alive, Angela. That’s the way of things. She found you first, I’m sure. And she is about to find you again. In fact, she’ll do anything to reunite with you. You’re her child, after all.”

  Angela felt her soul bottom out.

  “No, I’m not,” she said weakly. Her breath came in shallow gasps. “That’s impossible . . .”

  “Really?” Python arched an eyebrow. “You don’t know the truth? Oh, that’s right. You never did get a chance to speak to the Cherubim. I made certain of that. How disappointing for you, but it looks like I have the upper hand right now, Archon. Perhaps if you play nice, I’ll whisper the truth in your ears before you die. You’re likely to find it as fascinating as I did.” Python paused and looked across the half-destroyed room to where the staircase opened onto a landing. “Well, speak of the devil . . .”

  Angela whipped her head around. Sophia stood there, all alone, staring at Python like he’d already drained Angela of all her blood.

  “Sophia?” Angela croaked painfully. “But—but how did you—”

  Sophia glanced at her, her face sapped of every last ounce of color. She turned back to Python. “How dare you, you wicked serpent,” she shouted at him, her voice resounding like thunder.

  Python smiled at Angela. “See,” he said sweetly. “Just like I said—she’ll always find you, Angela.”

  “What are you doing here?” Angela shrieked.

  She didn’t know what to feel. Of course, Angela was beyond ecstatic that Sophia was safe. But why in the world had she endangered herself by trying to rescue Angela? And—worst of all—why had Sophia been keeping secrets from her that Angela now had to learn from a demon’s lips?

  Sophia balked at Angela’s tone. “I came to help you,” she said.

  “Run!” Angela screamed back at her. “Go!” Now she felt hot tears running down her face.

  But Sophia didn’t budge. She gazed steadily at Python, her head held high.

  “Well,” Python said. “Shall I enlighten the Archon about things? I’m sure She’d much prefer hearing the truth from you. It’s just a pity it’s under these circumstances, isn’t it? Imagine how nice everything would have been if you’d been honest with Her from the start.”

  Sophia clasped the lifeless pendant at her chest. “Angela . . .”

  “Tell her,” Python whispered. A wicked gleam lit his reptilian eyes. “Come on now. This is just too entertaining to pass up.”

  Sophia shot him a murderous glare but regarded Angela again, walking over to her. Angela still knelt by Father Schrader. She was vaguely aware of Kim watching them, yet his attention still seemed somewhere else, as if he’d focused on a point far beyond whatever lay in front of him.

  “What is the truth?” Angela whispered to Sophia, and she felt a million needles of pain drive through her heart.

  Sophia knelt in front of her. She didn’t say anything at first. And then she reached up to Angela’s face and stroked her cheek.

  “Python said you’re my mother,” Angela said. “But that doesn’t make sense—”

  But at that very second, she thought of her terrible visions where she’d been born to the stars.

  “And yet,” Sophia said, her voice achingly proud but still overwhelmed by sorrow, “it’s the truth.”

  Twenty-three

  “It’s not possible for you to be my mother,” Angela said. She could barely speak. “I had a mother—Erianna. And a father—Marcus. I had a brother—”

  “You did,” Sophia said softly. “But only because Raziel made it so. You’re human now, Angela, but once upon a time you were my child. Your soul is still mine. It isn’t human or angelic. It is beyond all those things because you are above them. Remember, I died in childbirth . . .”

  “Because of me?” Angela said. Dizziness gripped her. She struggled to hold herself upright. “No, no, that’s ridiculous . . .”

  “I brought you to this universe,” Sophia said, clasping Angela’s hands. “And it was my fault you’ve become what you are now. I am—”

  “A goddess,” Python said, his eyes blazing as he smiled.

  Sophia glared at him again. “I died, and my true body fell into the Abyss. But bits of my flesh became matter, and my blood became the water that brings life and reflects all things.”

  “Enough,” Angela muttered. She clenched her fists and ripped away from Sophia. She thought of the Mirror Pools, and considered how ancient they were, and how they tasted salty, like blood. The ocean on Earth tasted like blood. Sophia’s blood. Angela was talking to a replica of the real Sophia. A memory made by Raziel using what remained of her corpse. Now she could put all the pieces together, and she hated it. “Enough!” Angela screamed. “ENOUGH!”

  She pushed Sophia aside and pointed at Python. “You,” Angela hissed between her teeth. “Your game is over, snake.”

  “And that’s it?” Python said, regarding her with surprise. “You don’t want to know why you’re standing here? There isn’t a speck of consciousness in you that wants to know why that green eye sits so neatly in your head? Or why you look like the Father himself? It’s now all about punishing me? Interesting.”

  He laughed, and the cruel sound drove Angela mad.

  “It no longer matters,” Angela screamed. “My past has no bearing on what’s happening right now—”

  “Oh, but it does,” Python suddenly hissed back. He bared his teeth. “But if you want to remain ignorant abo
ut why I’m ready to bleed you to death, so be it.” He gestured at Kim. “Get up, boy. It’s your time to shine again.”

  Kim grabbed for the floor, but Python’s gesture jerked him roughly to his knees. Slowly, Kim stood, clasping his hands over his knees and breathing hard. Tears dripped from his face to the stone.

  “Now,” Python began. “Your first order of business is to bleed your girlfriend dry.”

  “Not on your life,” Kim seethed, glaring at Python through a screen of ratty black bangs.

  “How right you are. It’s your life I’m betting on,” Python said. He curled his fingers as if tugging Kim forward. “You remember the deal, half-breed. Once that last grain of sand touched the bottom of the hourglass, your time was through.” Python snapped his fingers, and the large hourglass appeared in his right hand, empty at the top and blood red at the bottom. Python tossed it at Kim, and the hourglass exploded in a burst of brilliant light. “And that time—from what I can see—is officially over.”

  Kim struggled, but faint strings of light seemed to pinch through his clothes. He screamed as the strings cut into his skin.

  “Look,” Sophia gasped by Angela’s side again. “If you watch carefully you can see them!”

  “But if I cut them, will he die?” Angela said heatedly.

  Sophia seemed to think. Her face became dark. “Most likely. Wait a moment—” Sophia whispered, holding Angela back. But her hands shook just as much.

  “I don’t understand the resistance you’re putting up,” Python said to Kim. “Is this about love, boy? All right, fine . . .” Python relaxed his hands. “I do have a heart, whether you wish to believe it or not.”

  Kim sank to his knees, breathing painfully. He grabbed at his bleeding arms.

  “I’ll let you choose,” the demon said too kindly. “Do what I say—or die.”

  “And what would I get for murdering Angela?” Kim muttered. “An eternity of slavery by your side?”

  “Far from it,” Python said. “I plan on ruling like an emperor once everything is over. My servants will prosper, and you can take anything you desire, enjoy all that you wish.”

  “Except the one thing I want most,” Kim ended for him.

  Python’s mouth set to a solid line.

  Kim lifted his head wearily and looked at Angela. The same haunted expression crossed over his face as it had in the Academy and during their time in the cell. She opened her mouth to say something, though she really had no idea what to say. If Kim killed her, all was lost. If he didn’t, he would die—and Angela would lose him forever. The one person besides Sophia who understood her inside and out would be gone.

  “I . . .” Kim said.

  Python folded his arms, waiting. “Yes?” he snapped.

  “I . . .” Kim closed his eyes, seemingly unable to look at Angela anymore. “I refuse.”

  The words fell like drops of death and poison onto Angela’s heart. Everything froze, and she stopped breathing, and something within her screamed. She expected the world to end and shatter like a glass ball dropped over a ravine, yet what happened next felt just as terrible.

  “All right,” Python said, shrugging. He made a tugging motion with his hand.

  In that split second, a terrible snap rang through every inch of Angela’s body, soul, and brain.

  Kim collapsed to the ground with his neck bent unnaturally.

  Sophia screamed his name and then covered her mouth. Angela stared at Kim wide-eyed. Disbelief riveted her to the spot.

  He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. Yet it was obvious Kim wasn’t breathing.

  “It looks like time’s up for you as well, Archon,” Python said. He sauntered slowly down to meet her.

  Angela still couldn’t stop staring at Kim. Something black and awful welled up inside of her. The world hazed over. It was like all her senses had ceased to function.

  “This little play is now running too long for my taste,” Python continued.

  Sophia shot in front of Angela. “Don’t you dare come a step closer to her—”

  Python waved his hand and a powerful bolt of purple lightning hit Sophia and thrust her halfway across the room. She shrieked and slammed against the floor.

  Angela wasn’t aware she’d started edging closer to one of the enormous openings in the walls until she was only a few feet away. All the while, Python came closer and closer. But Angela saw only Kim, dead and pale and lost to her forever.

  “Where do you think you’re going, dear?” Python said. “Ready to jump off a cliff to reunite with your love? Maybe you and Lucifel aren’t so different. Although she jumped off the cliff called sanity long before you.”

  Angela froze. She turned, and the glassy ocean seemed to beckon far below.

  In her mind, she’d already summoned the Glaive and cut Python’s head clean off. In reality, summoning the Glaive would leave her too weak to defend herself against anyone else. It would be even more foolish than usual, because all Angela would have to do is falter by a second, giving Python a chance to use the weapon against Sophia. The only thing she could do now was get far from the demon’s grasp. But there was nowhere to go—except down.

  Sophia was already running for Angela, but it was too late. They both knew what had to happen next.

  Angela gave her one last lingering look—and jumped out of the tall window.

  Python’s scream of rage followed her all the way down.

  Angela clutched the pendant Sophia had given her, squeezing her eyes shut and praying for the best. It was a long way to fall. She knew the ocean waited for her like a glass plate ready to be smashed. The pendant felt shockingly warm, Angela’s left eye burned like mad, and then it was all over that quickly.

  The last thing Angela saw were two angels with enormous wings swerving away from her just as she plunged into the unforgiving water.

  Light exploded around her. The same whispering voices that had beckoned her through the Mirror Pool to Luz echoed in her ears. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t feel anything but the heart-stopping cold.

  And soon after, she no longer felt, heard, or saw anything at all.

  Twenty-four

  Sophia dashed to the edge of the window ledge, roughly shoving Python out of her way. Light gleamed up at her, and then the waves Angela’s splash had caused stilled. It was as though Angela had been no more than a pebble plummeting into the sea.

  A larger group of angels now patrolled the horizon. Word of Python’s presence must have been spreading fast. Even though Sophia knew she probably sounded insane, she started laughing anyway. Angela was alive. The ocean was one giant Mirror Pool, and Angela had unwittingly used it to travel somewhere else.

  She must have had an object with her that still connected her to Hell—or Heaven.

  But what?

  Python gritted his teeth. Rage emanated from his body like smoke. “You irritating doll,” he hissed, striking Sophia across the face.

  She took the blow and glared at him. “So,” she said. “You dare to strike a goddess, as you so ignorantly called me?”

  “A goddess? No, I do stand corrected. You’re more of a demon than I ever was,” Python snarled. “Tell me now, where has the Archon gone?” he said, with each word more clipped and awful than the last.

  He began to approach her again.

  Sophia stepped backward, trying to put distance between them. His face was more dangerous-looking than ever. As if slapping her had given him even more courage.

  “The Earth’s ocean is made of my blood,” Sophia said. “I had no idea Angela could use it like she did. But she is special. That’s the whole point. It’s why Lucifel fears her. It’s why you wanted her blood and her power. You know her real nature, and I won’t bother asking you how you’ve come across it.”

  Python paused briefly and crossed his arms, and though Sophia could see him as nothing more than a petulant child, she still didn’t expect the next few words to leave his mouth. “Haven’t you caused enough suffering?�
� he said softly. Then he began to stride toward her again, not even bothering to hide the murderous gleam in his eyes.

  He couldn’t kill her. They both knew that. But it wouldn’t help Angela right now for Sophia to be torn into a hundred pieces either.

  “If my actions have caused anyone to suffer, it’s for the same reason your mother, Lilith, puts up with your existence, Python. Because you’re her child. A mother’s affection never changes. If I’d given up on Angela long ago, you wouldn’t even be standing here. Now step away from me, before it’s too late.”

  “You know so little about my mother,” Python whispered dangerously. And he didn’t stop moving.

  “What I do know,” Sophia shouted back, “is that my hopes in Angela have been justified. Now this universe can continue as it should in a new and more peaceful direction, and you’re too arrogant to realize that you’re still helping Lucifel halt the process. Now stop where you are, Python. This is my last warning. And that’s a mercy infinitely more than you deserve considering all the evils you’ve caused. But you are all children of mine in a way . . .”

  Python halted right in front of her, and his whispers were low as hisses. “What makes you think this cycle of time is so different? What good reason can you give me for not grasping the reins of power myself?”

  Sophia stared deep into his eyes. A shadow had settled around them both, and a presence. “Because this time, my prayers have finally been answered and Angela exists. Isn’t it true that after a million cycles of time that one thing will change, and then another? One fluctuation can set destiny on another course entirely. This is the course I plan to see through to the absolute end. The very one that began when the Supernals came into existence, born from what remained of Angela’s body the last time she failed to stop her twin from murdering her. The one that Raziel perpetuated when he found my corpse and Angela’s soul. The one that Lucifel fears, because she sees Angela as a Ruin who can never die, and this existence as a mistake.”

  Python remained fixated on her, and Sophia wouldn’t allow herself another moment where he’d have a chance to turn away. She had warned him, and he hadn’t listened, and his face suggested that he wouldn’t back down. As she spoke, galaxies reflected in his widening eyes. Stars erupted to life and died. The universe exploded into being and returned to nothingness again. Each and every time, something changed.

 

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