by Michele Hauf
His heart prodded him toward truth. Surrender. Want. “You choose me.”
The brightness he so admired returned to her eyes. Zen exhaled a heavy gasp. “I wasn’t aware you were an option.”
“I am.”
The demons shrieked an awful chorus of mayhem. As soon as Zen’s hand landed in Blade’s, he knew what she’d decided.
“I choose you,” she said.
“Let’s get out of here.” He pulled her across the dance floor littered with slippery demon blood and some of his own, for sure.
Once outside, they were followed by the denizen but not attacked. They couldn’t risk harming their queen. The sky blackened, the moon blinking out as the rage pursued from the sky. Blade pushed Zen in through the driver’s side of the Mustang and slid in after her. He risked the rage following him home, but what was worse was the strange cloud looming out from the top of the spooky mansion-cum-nightclub.
“What is that?” he muttered as he backed up, plowing over a couple demons in the process. “Zen, are you okay?”
She studied the halo in her hand. Nodding, she didn’t reply.
The cloud moved toward them. He slammed on the gas pedal and barreled down the country road. “Zen?”
She remained silent, turning the halo over in her grasp. Stunned? Under some kind of demonic power?
“Zen!” He shook her by the shoulder and she startled out of it.
“I’m good,” she said. “Just need to process.”
He smiled at that. She was always good and in need of processing. God, he loved her. He actually loved her.
“I think they’re pulling back,” he said, observing the sky in the rearview mirror. “What the hell? It’s as though they don’t want to get too close to you unless it’s before that fiery portal.”
A mile away from the nightmare he realized the rage had given up on tracking him. But the thick black cloud, as big as a football field, loomed directly overhead. It wasn’t composed of demons, and didn’t look like bats or even insects. It was a mist, cloud-like.
Some kind of demonic tracking system? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be able to fly over his property, for he’d warded the skies above for many miles.
All that mattered was that Zen sat next to him. She had chosen him. But what was she thinking now? She hadn’t stopped turning the halo over and over. It was as if she were enraptured by it. A remnant of her fall. A reminder of her destiny. Was she reconsidering?
She could be.
A trickle of anxiety tightened his grip on the steering wheel and he couldn’t force himself to look at the beautiful woman beside him. How long did he have before she left him again in pursuit of a crown? Had he done the right thing?
Hell. This love stuff was a lot harder than it had been before. He’d made the wrong move.
* * *
Blade parked the Mustang inside the garage, got out, slammed the door and strode up to the barn. He took the stairs two at a time, disappearing from Zen’s view before she got the car door open and slid out onto the dirt garage floor. Angry? He seemed so. A man who had just battled dozens of demons to rescue her had a right to anger.
But had it been a rescue?
She turned the halo over, remembering what he’d shouted to her. She’d held tight to this when falling so she wouldn’t land in Daemonia? But why? Why fall with the intent of meeting her destiny as the Casiphean queen, and then—not?
It was late. It was dark down in the garage, and Zen was oddly hungry. She needed to think about this. But at the same time, she’d just walked away from destiny and toward something entirely unplanned.
“Blade.”
She glanced up toward the ceiling, where his footsteps were imperceptible. He had offered himself to her as an option. And she had taken that option. So what was up with his sudden need for distance now?
She ran up the stairs to the loft. He stood before the cathedral windows looking out at the waxing moon. The black cloud hovered over the dark forest, but it didn’t encroach on his property.
Zen approached slowly. “Thank you,” she said, slipping the halo around her wrist to let it dangle. “I think.”
The weapon around her wrist felt as if it belonged to her. It did belong to her. But she knew well that when an angel fell from Above the halo fell away. Those angels destined to seek their muse did so, never caring to find the lost halo. Others, well, who knew?
She knew that the halo contained the angel’s earthbound soul. To place it atop their head in its original position would restore that soul and make them completely mortal. Human.
It had not fallen away from her. Because...
“I did hold on to the halo as I fell,” she said with surprise. She wrinkled a brow. She knew that as fact, and yet— “But I’m not sure why. When I figure that out, I’ll know whether or not I should return to the portal or run like hell. Blade?”
She touched his shoulder and he flinched. Demon blood spattered his neck. His bare back boasted bloody smears. Yet Zen could see the fresh wounds had healed. Most of them.
He’d taken more scars to save her. He was reliving the one nightmare he’d fiercely tried to never live again. Because of her.
“You have every right to be angry with me,” she said quietly. “But I never asked you to rescue me.”
He twisted his head around and the darkness in his eyes sucked away her breath.
“Wh-what’s wrong? Did I do something to make you so angry?”
He exhaled, his shoulders falling. The sword he held firmly, he tilted out to the side. Streaked with black demon blood, it glinted in the moonlight. He was a warrior to the bone.
“You just left,” he said. “Walked away without a goodbye or even bothering to ask if I wanted you to leave.”
Because she’d had a destiny to meet. And yet she’d had to force herself to leave him.
Zen bowed her head, glancing over the floorboards. “I didn’t think you cared.”
He noticeably stiffened. The sword fell to his side.
“You’ve made it very clear you are not interested in a relationship,” she continued, daring to meet his eyes. “You never said you love me.”
“I offered myself as a choice!”
“And I took that option! Yet why do I feel it was just a ruse to get me away from the portal?”
“A ruse?”
He turned. Sliding a forefinger down the blade he held, he wiped the black blood from it. He lifted his bloodied fingers to his mouth, and just when Zen thought he’d lick it, he flicked his fingers aside and tossed the halo blade to the floor, as well.
Her heart fluttered, but she wasn’t sure if she felt anticipatory or fearful. His eyes were so dark. Had his wings been out surely she would have screamed.
And then he did the most remarkable thing.
Blade dropped to his knees before her. Eyes brightening and fixed to hers, he said, “I love you, Zen. I should have told you. But I didn’t want to stand in the way of your destiny.”
She brushed his hair over his ear, which glowed bright blue under the moonlight. “Truly?”
He nodded. “I mean it. I love you. You’ve made my life...lighter. You make me want to leave my past where it is.”
“But that means you’ve fallen in love with a demon queen. That goes against all that you’ve tried to protect yourself from. And what of your deal with Sim to slay all the demons?”
“It’s done. I won’t harm another soul unless it first intends you harm.”
Still on his knees, he clasped his arms about her hips and pressed his face against her belly. And he didn’t say anything, because he didn’t need to. Zen ran her fingers through his hair and bowed over him. At this moment he was most vulnerable, and she wanted him to know that he was safe with her. Because she knew who she was. Strong, capable, determined. An angel on a quest to become.
Could she love him when there was something that felt so much greater standing between them? She wanted to. But she didn’t want to let him down, if she
ultimately descended to Daemonia to take the crown.
But she couldn’t tell him that. Not now when it was apparent this man needed her.
And she needed him.
Kneeling before him, she kissed Blade. “I think I’ve fallen far enough.”
He nodded. “Stay here with me. You didn’t intend to fall all the way to Daemonia. There’s a reason behind your hanging on to the halo. We’ll find out what that reason was. I’ll help you.”
“I’d like that. But what I’d like even more is a kiss.” She kissed him. “And a hug.” She fell into his hug and he stood, lifting her in his arms. “Take me to bed, Blade.”
Chapter 23
“If you can hear me, Sim—and I’m sure you can—we need to talk.”
Blade stepped onto the grass behind the barn and scanned the darkness. Zen was inside, sleeping peacefully in his bed after they’d made love. She was his.
For now. And...he would have to be cool with that.
Above, the black cloud had left the sky. Or maybe it was hovering over the Darkwood, out of his vision and looming at the edge of his property, which only cut into a small portion of the forest. He stepped across the grounds, shifting as he did so. He’d left his shirt off and worn a loose pair of jeans in anticipation of the shift. His wings cut the air and soared him up over the Darkwood treetops. No black cloud up here.
Arrowing toward the freshwater stream that cut through the north side of the woods, he this time sent out a mental call to Sim.
He landed at the edge of the stream, his bare feet sinking into the cool water. Bending, he plucked up a small stone and skipped it across the shallow water. A rabbit tucked in the undergrowth scampered out and away, its white tail bobbing.
A scatter of crickets suddenly stopped chirping. Even the breeze stilled. Something had arrived. It wasn’t wolf, demon or even of this realm.
Why hadn’t he picked up on that before?
Blade stretched out his wings and turned to face the approaching entity. Halo blade held at the ready, he waited for whatever stalked through the trees. He used the darkness as camouflage, but was aware the moonlight on his wings or hair would give him away in a flash. So be it. Whatever approached must do so knowing exactly what waited for it.
A blue glow preceded the stranger’s sure strides.
“Angel,” Blade murmured. He swung the blade in a defiant slash before him. “Come at me, other one!”
The angel stepped into view, and Blade saw the blue glow was actually its wings. The shape of feathers was crafted as if with finely wrought blue LEDs, like one of those fast-action photos a person takes while drawing with light. Yet the wings moved as if fashioned from feathers, while Blade knew they were not. Wearing some kind of draped loincloth over its muscled hips, the angel resembled something a medieval artist might have painted.
Perhaps it was biblical.
And when its face pierced a ray of moonlight and the odd gill-like scars were revealed, Blade hissed out an oath. “You?”
Sim bowed his head and stretched out his arms as if to accept the accusation, but with a prideful smirk. “You called me?”
The bastard was an angel. Why hadn’t he assumed that from the start? Who—or rather, what—would want to extinguish demons? And ultimately Zen.
“Stay away from her!” Blade warned. “She is no longer one of you.”
“Until she ceases to breathe this mortal air, the being you call Zen will be a problem.” The angel’s wing slashed forward. “Just as you have become a problem, vampire. I sense you’ve given up the quest to slay demons?”
“I won’t be a party to the senseless destruction. And now that I know Zen might become demon—”
“She was destined to become demon! And yet she changed that destiny.” Sim dashed his wingtip before Blade, the hiss of it as tangible as a steel sword.
Blade jerked his head backward, avoiding the cut of the deadly wing. He swung up the blade, parting the retreating feathers in the odd blue appendage, but not cutting.
The angel hissed. “Where did you get that weapon? It feels angelic.”
“Fashioned this from a halo. A halo I got from one of you guys. Picked it out of his crystal ash.”
“You must stop killing our kind!”
“Yeah? Why is it both the demons and the angels think asking me to stop killing them is going to work?”
“You are bloodthirsty, half-breed.”
Blade straightened his shoulders and his wings spread wide. Not quite as wide as the angel’s, but he could do battle with what he had. “Says the guy who wanted me to take out an entire denizen. Hell, a rage of Casipheans. Why couldn’t you do it yourself? Aren’t angels all-powerful?”
“This mortal realm weakens us.”
Blade quirked a brow. The two angels he’d battled had been strong. Yet they hadn’t wielded any supernatural powers beyond strength.
“And our numbers are few,” Sim continued. “But I was foolish to ask you, demon slayer, to help me. I had no idea you would get entangled with Synestriel, Keeper of the Second Light.”
“Is that Zen’s angel name?”
Sim nodded. “She is from my ranks. I, Simaseel, Master of the Ninth Void, sent her on the Fall.”
With a sweep of its wings, the angel soared high, and just when he tilted down to dive toward Blade, Blade took to the air to meet his challenger. He dragged the halo blade along the supportive high bone of one of Sim’s wings. The angel shrieked in a myriad of voices, and dodged midair. Blue blood dripped over the glowing wing.
“She is a traitor!” the angel insisted.
Suspended in the air, Blade maintained his position with slow sweeps of his gossamer black wings. He kept the angel’s bleeding wing in focus while he twirled the hilt of the sword and caught it, blade down.
“How is Zen a traitor?” he asked.
The angel’s multicolored eyes seemed to spin as if a child’s toy, hypnotizing Blade with their radiance. When they’d spoken previously they had been white. A glamour? Most likely. He shook his head and returned his focus to the deadly wings.
“The plan was made before Synestriel fell. We have been watching the Casipheans for eons. It is their time for elimination.”
“So you angels take it upon yourself to eliminate entire races whenever the mood strikes you?”
“It is ordained.”
“Don’t give me that bible crap.”
“We do not subscribe to the humans’ book of biblical stories. We live on truths and follow the destiny of the universe.”
“Big talk. Small act. So you wanted to destroy the demons without lifting a finger? Fine. You talked an idiot into helping you. I’m over that now. What does Zen have to do with any of this? Why did she fall?”
“Synestriel agreed to fall to Daemonia to insinuate herself into the Casiphean order. Once crowned their queen she would have utmost control and access to the denizens. She could open Daemonia to our numbers. We would slaughter them before they might growl and hiss and strike back at us.”
Blade swallowed. Zen had agreed to participate in genocide? Not all the demons in the world, but an entire breed of them in Daemonia. But that was when she’d been angel. Now that she had landed the mortal realm she had changed. Right?
“This is not your fight,” Sim said. Its wings hadn’t even to move and the angel maintained its position before Blade above the treetops. “Stand down.”
“She doesn’t want that anymore.”
“This, I have come to know. Why do you think I recruited you to extinguish the demons running rampant on mortal grounds? You are my backup plan. And because of her absence of memory Synestriel has become a liability. She must be destroyed.”
Wrong answer. Blade would protect Zen with every ounce of muster he had. Good, bad or otherwise.
It was worth a try. Because, really? He could handle one angel, but if a cavalcade of them came at him, then he was as good as toast. “You know, Zen still doesn’t have her memory completely restored
. But I don’t understand your need to exterminate the demons. Seems to me if you sit back and let the Casipheans lure her into Daemonia, then your work is done. Once she’s there, she’ll become demon, yes?”
The angel nodded.
“She’ll have all that remarkable power to open Daemonia to the angels.”
Sim’s eyes glowed as blue as his wings. “You suggest we do nothing? Hmm...” The angel folded back its wings and descended to the forest floor.
Blade followed, but kept his wings spread as a sign of aggression. He wasn’t letting down his guard around an angel. Even if the blade was capable of killing the creature, the bastard could still do Blade some major harm before dying.
“If she’s not got all her memory back,” Sim said, “there is no guarantee she will know the plan when she arrives in Daemonia. And she’s been on this realm too long. The longer she remains harnessed to human flesh the less capability she has of assuming the demonic form.”
“She went to the nightclub last night with the intent of entering the portal to Daemonia. I’d say that’s pretty damned determined, wouldn’t you?”
“But you stopped her! And I am quite sure you will continue to impede her quest.”
“Seems as if your problem is with me, not Zen.”
The angel tilted his head sharply. A glint of blue flashed in his kaleidoscope eyes. His sneer could have cut diamonds. “So I’ll take you out—”
Blade dodged the sweep of wing that would have sliced his head from his neck had he not moved. Lunging upward, he caught Sim against the chest with a shoulder and pushed him to ground. The angel’s wings spread across the mossy rocks and earth. Blade’s wings curved forward, pinning the angel’s wings down with the sharp tips.
“I’m glad to be your problem,” Blade said, wrapping his fingers about Sim’s throat. “You want that?”
With his other hand he wielded the halo blade, drawing the tip along the man’s outstretched arm, but not hard enough to cut through flesh and release blood. He didn’t need to give the angel another weapon against him.
“I will consider your suggestion.” And with that, the angel kicked Blade off him and swept away, soaring out of sight over the treetops.