by Dale, Lindy
Lacey couldn’t help snorting. This was too insane. “Are you magic or something? How did you know what I needed? What… did God tell you?” She knew she sounded sarcastic but hey, the guy was claiming to be an angel. He was taking responsibility for almost every positive event in her life in the last six months. And that whole wing thing? She’d seen Criss Angel Mind Freak on TV, it could easily be a parlour trick.
Cam looked at her. His green eyes were serious. An overwhelming sense of calm enveloped her body. “The wings aren’t a trick, Lacey. I am an angel. I have power given to me by the Divine One in order to help you. That’s how I make things happen.”
Okay. So he could read her mind. Bizarre, but not unbelievable.
“When you said you’re my angel - do you mean like a guardian or something? Is that why you’ve been following me, why you came out of the blue at the park last night?”
“Yes. Well, sort of.”
“And that’s why you didn’t show up in my photos.”
“True.”
“So how come I can see you? Aren’t angels meant to be invisible?”
“Normally, but for me to be able to fulfill God’s purpose, he has made me visible to humans.”
“How did you know I was here? Why did you choose me?” she rushed on, suddenly eager to learn more.
Cam held up a hand. “I’m trying to answer your questions. But you have to slow down. Let me tell you this… Many years ago, God expelled me from Heaven because I was guilty of the sin of pride. My silver wings made me different from the rest and foolishly, I let this go to my head. I thought I could do no wrong, that I was invincible.”
“But aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately no. Angels have free will, just like you, and it was almost my downfall. I rushed in to save people where it wasn’t my place, causing them harm that could not be repaired and placing them, their angels and myself in danger. When we got back to Heaven, my brother angel was expelled because God believed it was his fault and I… I was so proud I would not admit that it had been my mistake. It took some time for the truth to be revealed but when it finally emerged, God was understandably displeased. To punish me and teach me humility, He sent me here. My penance was to find ten souls to help or save.”
“So you’re a bad angel.”
“Let’s say I lost my way for a bit.”
“And now?”
“For the past lifetimes, I’ve been searching for souls and helping them. Now, I’m here to help you.”
“But I don’t need saving now, Cam. You’re too late. I’ve found my way back and I’m on the straight and narrow again. You don’t know how hard I’ve been trying.”
“Yes, I do. But you still have many hidden sorrows, Lacey. Things that block your path to true happiness. And my purpose with you is dual. It’s not all about the hurt you bear. You are one of the Children of the Pentacle.”
“The what?” Just when she thought she understood, he went and put a spanner in the works.
“The Pentacle. After the first war, when Lucifer was banished from Heaven, he vowed that he would rise again, form a new army to overthrow God and take over the Earth and heavens. Since then, he’s been busy collecting souls, promising them eternal life and such but for his plan to come to fruition, he must have the Children of the Pentacle in his sights. These children bear his mark and when the day of the uprising comes, they will be sacrificed to enhance the unstoppable power of Satan.”
Lacey sat stunned. “You’re not joking… are you?”
“I wish I was.”
“But if you’re not meant to interfere, how can you help me?”
“In this instance, God feels it appropriate that we intervene. I am here to save you from Lucifer.”
Lacey stilled for a moment. How could Cam be real? How could any of this be true? She searched his face. Clearly, he believed what he was saying. Should she?
“So, what you’re saying is, Satan is on his way to kill me so that he can rule the world? Like an Apocalypse?”
“Basically. And when the End comes, his followers will be spared. All those who follow Christ will perish. At least that’s his plan.”
“But why me? Can’t he just sacrifice any girl?”
Cam leaned over, smoothing Lacey’s unruly waves from her shoulder, exposing the arch of her collarbone and neck. His eyes softened and closed as his fingers grazed the warm skin where her hair had been. She felt them tremble slightly as they came to rest on the birthmark. A sigh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes and concentrated on her again.
“You bear the mark, Lacey. There, on the nape of your neck. The Mark of Lucifer.”
Chapter Fourteen
Her head was spinning in rotating spirals filled with angels and demons and sacrifices. She felt as if it were going to explode. This had to be some sort of joke - she, Lacey, was not the plaything of Lucifer, meant for sacrifice on the day of his uprising. She was an almost eighteen year old girl who’d done a few stupid things in the past, but nothing deserved using her as a human sacrifice, right?
Standing before the mirror in her bedroom she turned and lifted her hair away from her neck, staring into the compact that reflected the image. The mark was definitely there all right, but then she knew that. She’s always known that. What she didn’t understand was how Cam knew. Was he really an angel, sent to protect her? She’d never believed such rubbish but it was too bizarre not to be true. And she’d seen the wings with her own eyes. Twice.
Squinting into the mirror, Lacey studied the patch of skin that had been with her since birth. The mark looked like a tattoo, a purple blurry star shape. As a child, she’d imagined it was the mark of a fairy princess, that one day her Prince, who coincidentally bore that same mark, would ride over the hills and rescue her. As a teenager, she’d questioned her mother as to its origin. The answer had always been the same. Mum didn’t know. It was one of those things that happen when people are born. She was just lucky it could be hidden beneath hair.
Now, some angel was trying to tell her the mark was evil, the devil’s mark or something. Angry, Lacey threw down the compact and walked over to her bed. What the hell was she supposed to believe? Clearly, the next round of answers would come from Aunt Beth’s shop. She had more weird books on her shelves than a UFO convention had alien abductees. Not to mention her ‘special’ books that weren’t for customers’ eyes. Aunt Beth had a whole stack of those. Lacey would be sure to find the answer there.
*****
Lacey wheeled into Angel’s Bend Bookshop, attacking the shelves like a whirling dervish. Eyes focused only on her task, she scanned shelf after shelf until she hit the first jackpot - The Book of Angels.
Aunt Beth was confused by this odd behaviour. Lacey had been so calm, so settled in the last few weeks. Poking her head around the corner of the shelf, she found her niece sitting on the floor, the heavy book in her lap. “You looking for something in particular, Lace?”
Lacey didn’t look up. Her eyes were too busy scanning the contents page. “No. It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
“Well, if you need anything….”
“Mmm. Yeah. Thanks. Hold that thought. I might want to pick it up later.”
With a nod Aunt Beth went back to her desk.
Fingers trailing down the list of Angels, separated by hierarchy into groups, it didn’t take long for Lacey to find the one she wanted and turn to the correct page. He’d been telling the truth about that at least. Chamuel was an archangel, the angel of unconditional love. When you had problems that related to matters of the heart, the book said, then Chamuel was the angel to call on. He would help your heart to heal. That was what Cam had told her, those exact words. Of course, it wouldn’t have been hard to Google the information. Any fool could be an expert on anything these days. Still, she was intrigued, so she read on.
A picture, depicting a beautiful man was further down the page. He bore no resemblance to her Cam but she hadn’t expected he would. His angelic face looked trou
bled as he stood over a praying Jesus. Lacey read the inscription. Hell. Had Cam really been there when Jesus was in the garden the night before he was crucified? Had he been trying to soothe the soul of the Lord? Oh, surely not. That was plain ridiculous. And what about the next paragraph? Did Cam carry a blessed sword to slay demons in the course of his work? According to the book the sword was one of the only ways a demon could be killed. Death by almost any other means was nigh on impossible. Lacey had noticed the strange dagger tattoo on his arm. Could that have something to do with it?
Further on she found a ‘fact file.’ Apparently, Chamuel’s colour of choice was pink because of its soothing qualities. Cam had told her about the pink roses. The ones she thought she’d chosen herself. This was insane. Cam was real. He was thousands of years old, yet he only looked as old as her. And he was an angel. Closing the book and sliding it carefully on to the shelf in its allotted place, Lacey went over to the desk, where Aunt Beth sat doing paper work.
“Do you believe in angels, Aunt Beth?” There was no other way to say it. If she wanted to know, she may as well be blunt.
Aunt Beth looked up from her work. She placed her pen on the desk beside her papers and tipped her head to her niece. “I do, but I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting one. Why?”
Should she tell her? If anyone would get it, Aunt Beth would. “Cam told me he’s an angel.”
Aunt Beth’s voice didn’t waver. “And you believe him.”
“I didn’t, I don’t. I mean the supernatural is a load of crap, right? Oh, I don’t know. I saw his wings, Aunt Beth. They’re beautiful wings, fine like spun silk and shiny like silver.”
“Did he show them to you?”
“No. I sort of came upon him cleaning the statue with them.”
Aunt Beth’s head tilted further upward and her eyebrows rose above her fringe. She put a finger to her lips as if thinking. “I guess that’d explain how he’s made the statues look so good in such a short space of time. I never did buy that stonemason story. But why is he here? I don’t imagine an angel just pops into town to do a bit of statue maintenance. Not even for the Boss.”
Lacey couldn’t tell her that. The whole pentacle thing was a little hard for her to grasp at this stage and she knew Aunt Beth would only try to be objective or helpful or something. Worse still, she’d be on the phone to Dad and the whole adult population would start to worry over nothing. For the moment, it was a secret best known to her and Cam alone.
“Apparently, he’s on a mission from God to save lost souls as atonement for his sins.”
“What did he do?”
“Long story.”
“Ah. So he’s here for one of us.”
Lacey swallowed. “He’s here for me. He wants to heal my heart.” Geez, that sounded so lame.
Aunt Beth was very still. Then she picked up her pen and bent her head to her papers. “I think that could be just what you need.”
*****
She thought about it for the rest of that day and all of the next. Cam was an angel. Okay. She could run with it. But in accepting that as truth, she also had to believe what he was telling her. And the bit about Lucifer’s Mark was something she couldn’t get her head around. Why did she have it? And how did she get it? But more importantly, how the hell was she going to get rid of it? She couldn’t just sit around waiting for the Devil to come. She had to be proactive.
But what exactly did a girl use to erase a demonic mark? Lacey wondered, as she trod the aisles of the supermarket, the next morning. She had fifty dollars and a whole afternoon alone ahead of her. She had to be able to come up with some solution.
A scourer? She eyed the rows of silver, gold and grey coloured pads. She picked one up and turned it over in her hand - that could work but it would be painful. Then she had another idea - bleach - she’d bleached her hair once last year - took the colour right out. Racing further down the cleaning aisle, she stopped in front of a row of white bottles with brightly coloured labels. Each one advertised how effective it was at removing all manner of stains. Well, hers was a stain wasn’t it? It certainly wasn’t the birthmark her parents had led her to believe it was. If she scrubbed it with bleach it would disappear, just like all the other stains on society. She would be free of this dreadful curse. Then everything could go back to normal and she could get on with her life.
She picked up a bottle and examined the contents label. This could do the trick. She put the bleach into her shopping basket, went back down the aisle, picked out the gentlest scourer, gentle enough to use on your best pots without scratching apparently, and tossed that in the basket too. Industrial strength soap, liquid stain remover and some mineral turpentine later she left the market.
Back in her bedroom Lacey dumped the plastic bag of cleaning materials on the bed and flopped down to plan her next move. A yellow label caught her eye and she picked the bleach bottle up, looking at it. How had she not noticed that massive warning about contact with skin and eyes? Bleaching could cause skin to burn. She’d have big welts and blisters all over her neck for people to laugh at. Not to mention the scarring and possible permanent tissue damage. She probably should’ve looked up what it could do to her before she hopped off to take a bath in it. There was no way she could use it now. In fact, there was no way she could put any of those chemicals on her body.
Deflated, Lacey sat for a long time, thinking, mulling. She had never believed in the religion or the occult. Until she met Cam, she’d considered God to be a story, a being invented by adults who wanted to scare people into doing the right thing or to explain events in history that couldn’t be explained. Seriously, who these days would believe the world was created in seven days or that Adam and Eve were responsible for siring the entire human race? It was ludicrous. Still, if what Cam said was true, then God did exist and so did the Devil. Which meant somewhere there had to be some proof that this mark on her neck was all that Cam claimed.
Flipping her laptop open, Lacey went straight to the only source of information readily available that wouldn’t raise eyebrows - the Internet. Her emotions ran riot as she typed search after search, each one drawing a blank on the specific information she needed.
The sites were aimed at people who believed and she considered herself a skeptic. She felt almost guilty invading their privacy, tapping into their thoughts and conversations. The stuff they considered sacred was way beyond anything she’d ever done and it scared her. All that talk of rituals and blood letting, of the benefits of being among Satan’s beloveds, photos that people had uploaded, comments they made about their own and others experiences with the occult. It was positively creepy. Worse, the people who frequented these sites believed this stuff. They lived it. How could she be letting this into her life? Or had she already? The gang Zac was so intent up on her joining appeared to dabble in this type of thing on a regular basis. Those tattoos they wore were exactly the same as photos she’d seen in one of the page galleries.
After two fruitless hours and an education like she’d never imagined, Lacey came upon a site that was more informative than the rest, a Wikipedia of the Occult. Taking a deep breath and preparing herself for the worst, she began to read. This was better. Processing the information without the gory images being thrown in her face was so much easier. And having the information set out in such a clear, clinical manner made it appear more plausible. Not that she wanted it to be plausible in any way. She wanted to be told that Lucifer’s Mark was a big crock of crap so she could go back to Cam and tell him off for trying to scare her.
Page after page unfolded before her. Single clicks lead to links she couldn’t ignore until there it was, staring her in the face. A whole page on Lucifer’s Mark with some corresponding sketches and photos. Lacey allowed her body to uncurl and stretch, then she stared into the screen, refocusing her concentration.
There were ten images in total and all the pictures looked like the mark on her neck. According to the source, the people who bore these marks had bee
n promised to the Devil, either by making a pact themselves or after being promised by another as payment for ‘services rendered’. One woman, from the 1840’s had dreamt of being a famous opera singer. The mark had appeared after she’d received her first standing ovation from the audience. She had disappeared some two months later. The article didn’t say how but it did say the disappearance had been sudden and unexplained. It also said that friends had noted the mark on her neck and speculated at to its origin. Another part of the article pointed straight to one of the Children of the Pentacle that Cam had mentioned.
Oh God. This was Lacey’s worst nightmare. It was all there - the unexplained disappearances, eighteenth birthdays never celebrated, star-shaped birthmarks at the base of the neck. That mark on her neck was there for eternity and on her eighteenth birthday - in one month - she was going to die.
Slamming the computer closed, Lacey squeezed her eyelids together, forcing tears to remain at bay. Ragged sobs engulfed her body, causing her to tremble uncontrollably and giving way finally to tears that stained her lashes and rolled down her cheeks. She watched as they plopped onto the logo of the computer and with a sniff of resignation, she wiped them away using her sleeve. She may as well admit it. The mark had been put there by some evil force and giving herself to the Devil was the only way it would ever be gone. Her life was basically over.
Chapter Fifteen
Lacey and Cam sat inside the maze, their backs leaning against the statue of Saint Michael. The morning had been cool and overcast but since she’d arrived in the maze it had blossomed into a warm winter’s day worthy of simply sitting and enjoying. Since finding out Cam was an angel, her angel, Lacey had felt a compelling urge to spend every waking minute with him.