Forged by Fire (Angels at the Edge Book 1)

by Michael Arches

  At the same time, the angel pulled out a white flaming sword and swung it from side to side, creating a loud whoosh with each movement.

  Why are they fighting? I asked Cleo.

  The vampire was about to attack the mortals. We intervene whenever we can.

  The vampire raised his blade into a defensive position over his head and blocked a lightning-fast downward blow from the guardian angel.

  When the blades struck each other, a loud clang rang out, and sparks flew. Sulfurous fumes poured off of the demon’s blade, but the angel’s blade burned clean. The noise and sparks reminded me of childhood visits to a blacksmith’s shop back in Idaho. He’d pounded molten iron into tools, and it’d been exciting to watch, but this was a much more dangerous business. I said a quick prayer for Griffin’s success.

  Everyone but the immortals remained frozen in mid-stride. I moved my arms just to reassure myself that I wasn’t one of the stiffs. The drunk blonde had been caught with her mouth open, and she looked particularly ridiculous with her tongue hanging out.

  But I couldn’t take my eyes off the fight for long. What if the Rockies Guy won then attacked either us or the humans? We’d all be helpless, except for maybe Cleo. Could she fight, too?

  She patted my arm. “I can, but not as well. Don’t worry, Griffin has won many battles.”

  I wanted to believe her, but this was all so new. I focused my attention on how the immortals fought. I might have to do this myself someday.

  The fighters whaled on each other, each grunting with the force of their strikes. Every so often, one would shout something in that unknown language. The air reeked more of sulfur, and the sparks continued to fly faster than ever as the swords clashed together.

  Each man moved much more quickly than any human, trying to slice each other into tiny bits. I could keep up with their movements, but only because my eyesight was much sharper than it’d been before the fire.

  Then I noticed something solid pressing against my spine. That startled me, but even if it was a sword, I didn’t know how to use it. I’d need a lot of training to stand a chance against someone as aggressive as the vampire.

  The two fighters drifted closer to Cleo and me, and for the first time, I noticed a golden handle protruded from the back of her neck. She didn’t grab for it.

  “If he wants our help,” she said, “he’ll ask for it. Warriors tend to prefer to keep the glory of the kill for themselves.”

  That was fine with me. I’d never been much of a fighter as a human, too puny and quiet. Detectives didn’t need to break up fights or crash through doors.

  At first, the two fighters seemed evenly matched, but then Griffin feinted to the right and jabbed Rockies Guy with the tip of his sword. The blade only went in part way, but Rockies Guy shrieked as though one of his arms had been cut off. And in that instant, he froze.

  Griffin didn’t hesitate. With blinding speed, he swept his blade across from one side, removing Rockies Guy’s head just above his shoulders. Black blood gushed upward from the vampire’s neck and sprayed into the air. But in a flash of light, before the head hit the sidewalk, the demon and his sword vanished, leaving behind a puff of acrid, black smoke.

  Griffin lifted his face to the sky and let out a scream like a hawk. Every mortal remained frozen.

  The angel dashed toward Cleo and me with a huge smile on his face. His blade pulsed, but he held it down and away.

  He said, “You have to leave here, quickly. This area will be overrun with satanic spirits within a few minutes. They’ll be looking for revenge.”

  “Very impressive!” I said.

  He nodded. “No time to talk.” He held out his free hand with his fingers sticking up. Not sure what he wanted, I waited.

  “Hurry!” Cleo motioned with her hand for me to follow her example. She touched the pads of her fingers to Griffin’s. Then I did the same and felt the fighter’s elation and strength. He was transmitting his joy to me, and I thought thanks back again. What a rush!

  Then Griffin changed into a hawk and flew up into the darkness.

  -o-o-o-

  THE WORLD RESTARTED. I glanced around to see how the mortals would react.

  No one, including Torino, seemed to have noticed the fight or the fact that the vampire had disappeared. The drunk woman continued chewing out the guy with her, seemingly unaware that she and he had almost been sucked bloodless.

  Heeding Griffin’s advice, I hurried toward Sid’s office, still a few blocks away, and Cleo walked at my side. We left Torino to keep up if he wanted.

  My nerves tingled from the excitement of the fight and the joy I still felt from Griffin. I didn’t understand a lot of what’d happened, but it was obvious that angels and demons played for keeps. I could face that kind of battle myself soon, and I wondered again when the legion would teach me sword craft so I could defend myself.

  He’s arranging it, but our best trainer is very busy. You’ll meet her soon.

  Hopefully, that wouldn’t come too late.

  As we approached the high-rise office building Sid had mentioned to me, I spotted Griffin perched on a ledge above the lobby. And I shifted mental gears to dealing with the FBI’s danger to me and particularly Kevin.

  Cleo and I entered the building through a door propped open, and I began to relax. Demons probably wouldn’t find us this far from where the fight had occurred, and Griffin was still on the job. Torino followed Cleo and me into the building, still wearing his scowl.

  A smiling man with short, curly white hair leaned against a guard’s desk. He was wearing a starched white shirt and dark slacks but no tie.

  Before I could say a word, he waved at us. “Gabriel and Cleopatra! Such a pleasure to meet you. I just spoke to Honah, and he asked me to show you every courtesy. I’m happy to do so. Let me close that door, then follow me, please.”

  He locked the outer door and led us in an elevator that took us to his business suite. Rothman and Associates was decorated like an old English lawyer’s office. There were lots of oak book shelves filled with leather-bound books. Paintings of judges wearing wigs and stern expressions covered the walls.

  On the plus side, my legal problems with the FBI seemed minor by comparison to the threat from dark immortals, but Kevin seemed to be in real trouble. I shook off a chill that ran through me and tried to focus on the present problem, namely the nitwit from the FBI who was chasing my best friend. Hopefully, he was a rogue agent who’d soon get set straight by his superiors.

  Sid took us to a small conference room. A painting there showed a man hanging from a gallows. The corpse was surrounded by hundreds of people sitting in groups and picnicking. Sid obviously had a morbid streak.

  We sat at an old mahogany table polished to a mirror-like sheen. Cleo and I sat together, and Torino took a chair on the other side of the table. The credenza behind me contained a decanter with an amber liquid and several glasses. Sid poured himself a glass.

  “Scotch, anyone?”

  We all declined.

  The old lawyer took a sip and sat in the open chair next to me. “So, what’s this all about? A fire?”

  “Just a few questions for Mr. Townsend about the large forest fire still burning in the mountains southeast of the national park. We’re interviewing every witness we can find.”

  “Are you Mirandizing them all?” Sid asked.

  Torino paused before saying, “I was acting in an abundance of caution.”

  I noticed that Torino hadn’t answered the question, but Sid didn’t seem to care.

  The fact that Torino didn’t back off told me he was a real danger. I couldn’t get into his head without vanishing, so I could check, but I expected he would love nothing more than to lead me away in handcuffs.

  “Get on with it, then,” Sid said. “I always enjoy hearing a cautionary admonition intended to protect my client’s vital constitutional rights.”

  Torino no doubt did his best with his Miranda spiel, but it was late in the evening. He fo
rgot at the end to ask me whether I understood his pitch.

  Sid merely shrugged at the end, apparently not impressed either.

  “Were you with Kevin Winsted the entire time after you hiked to Longs Peak, Mr. Townsend?” Torino asked.

  “Keep your answers short and direct,” Sid whispered into my ear. “And don’t be too surprised if he hauls you away. This guy is deadly serious.”

  Torino had obviously already talked to Kevin. “All except for about forty-five minutes when he went to get groceries for breakfast.”

  The agent grilled me on exactly when Kevin had left and when he got back. Then, in response to other questions, I gave the agent a fifteen minute summary of how I discovered the fire and our trip through Hell. Finally, we got to the point where Kevin, Lacey, and me were trapped by the pickup blocking the road. I left out the whole dying part. After all, only Cleo would believe me, and Milton had told me not to blab about immortality.

  Cleo beamed at me, not seeming to mind the omission.

  Torino switched subjects. “Where was his Jeep when the fire started?”

  I tamped down my rising annoyance. I’d already told the guy it was at the cabin.

  Under the table, Sid nudged me with his knee, which I took to mean be careful.

  I tamped down my anger and chose my words carefully as I repeated my story.

  Then Sid said, “So, Special Agent Torino, it sounds like you have a photograph of a Rubicon from the location where the fire began. Is it the same color as Mr. Winsted’s vehicle?”

  Torino didn’t bite. “Is there any chance Mr. Winsted changed the tires on his Jeep on June 10th?”

  I took his comment to mean they only had a tread impression of a tire used by Jeeps. The fact was, lots of folks owned Jeeps in Colorado.

  Cleo told me, Relax. Sid can handle this, and if worse comes to worst, you can vanish instead of going to prison.

  But that wouldn’t work. The real danger the FBI poses is to my best friend, not me.

  The lawyer said, “Give us a minute.” Without waiting for consent, he grabbed my hand and led me to his nearby office. There, he closed the door behind us.

  I sat in a soft chair in a conversation area apart from Sid’s desk. “By the way, how do you know Honah?”

  He sat across from me. “A decade ago, I took over my dad’s practice. Honah had been one of his first clients and remained his favorite. That dear gentleman always pays his bills by return mail, and no lawyer can ask for better. As for your little problem, Gabriel, something doesn’t add up. The FBI must’ve decided Kevin’s Jeep’s tread matches tracks they found at the ignition point. Now they’re wondering whether you might be in cahoots with him.”

  I stared at the ceiling for a moment, pondering. “Kevin must’ve told them the same story I did, so he’s my alibi, but if the fire started while he was gone, I can’t help him.”

  Sid nodded. “If that’s the case, they’re going to arrest Kevin soon, if they haven’t already.”

  I called him, but the call went straight to voicemail. I left a brief message about the FBI interviewing me and asked Kevin to call me back.

  Even without reading his mind, I knew he was innocent. My stomach roiled as I thought about how an arrest could ruin his life. He’d probably lose his job in the Boulder Police Department—unpaid leave at a minimum. Then he wouldn’t be able to pay for a lawyer.

  Sid took me back to the conference room and explained how we were delighted that we could help the FBI’s investigation. Torino took off, saying only the briefest goodbye. As I pondered the matter after he left, and I had to think he’d be back for me soon.

  -o-o-o-

  WHEN CLEO AND I made it back on the street outside of Sid’s office, Griffin told us, You need to leave here. Demons disguised as ravens continue to pass through this area.

  I couldn’t agree more. My thinking is we’re looking for a place away from here where rich people get their kicks.

  Cleo’s brow furrowed. “Why would they kick?”

  “It’s an expression,” I replied. “It means where they like to have fun, kick up their heels like a woman on a dance floor. Anyway, I think powerful demons would prefer to spend their money on sex and violence. I can’t think of anywhere they could watch fights in Denver, but there are plenty of strip clubs.”

  I did a quick Internet search on my phone and found a fancy gentlemen’s club several miles away. It had five stars on Yelp, and four dollar signs for cost, which meant it was expensive. Then I contacted Milton and asked him to move Cleo and me to that address.

  While we were waiting in the darkness, I asked Cleo, “Who is this Honah person? Sid really loves him.”

  She laughed. “Honah has many powerful friends, and justifiably so. He’s one of the early inhabitants of North America. For eons, he’s supervised the angels on this continent.”

  “What tribe?”

  She shrugged. “All I know is he’s an extraordinarily talented angel. You’ll meet him soon. For now, we have to make progress in locating the dark immortal who started the Meeker Park forest fire.”

  I couldn’t agree more. A lot of people deserved justice, including me.

  Chapter 8

  Thursday, June 15th

  WITHOUT WARNING, WE dissolved and reappeared in the parking lot of Sizzle. It was a Wednesday night, but the parking lot was almost full. We appeared in front of two tall, thin men, one black and the other white.

  I’ll take the black one, Cleo thought.

  I took over the white guy’s mind. He hadn’t noticed either me or Cleo. She or Milton had to be doing something to fog people’s minds when we appeared out of thin air.

  My guy’s name was Drew Trueblood, and his buddy was Jamal Rice. They’d met on the local college’s basketball team. One of the team’s biggest fans had given them free passes into the club and two hundred bucks each to tempt the ladies into showing them a little affection.

  A burly guy at the door took their passes. “There’s a two-drink minimum.”

  They nodded and entered. Loudspeakers were blasting “Brown Sugar”, and a voluptuous black woman in a bikini was strutting across the main stage. Guys lined up in front of her and tossed twenties that she scooped up with practiced ease.

  I still had hormones because I could feel the lust growing in me. It had been too long since my last girlfriend. But Milton was tough as nails about sex with humans or demons. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was right, but my hormones didn’t care.

  Drew and Jamal whistled like other guys and sat at an empty table near the stage. Drew picked up a drink menu. The cheapest drink, a screwdriver, was twenty bucks. They both ordered one. Each had already downed a beer, so it wasn’t hard for Drew to get into the excitement.

  The woman danced and flirted in front of them, her milk chocolate skin glistening with sweat under flashing colored lights.

  Cleo thought, Everyone I’ve seen here so far is mortal. We will have to wait for a demon to appear.

  I wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

  Ten minutes later, when the dancer finished her number, she was buck naked. Drew was turned on, but he hadn’t thrown any money her way.

  “Rebel Yell” blared, and a pair of platinum blonde twins who looked to be teenagers took the stage. A cheer went up in the room. Their long, straight hair flared out as they spun wearing matching pink teddies. These women were tall and thin, with cover-girl faces.

  Although they weren’t as big in the chest as the black woman, they more than made up for it with high energy spins and sassy grins.

  The men watching them threw much more dough. Seemingly indifferent, the blondes let it pile up, except when they kicked it around. They were having too damned much fun to grab any of that nasty cash.

  They’re perfect, Cleo thought. Actually, they’re one-thousand-year old harpies from what’s now Denmark. In their bird form, they look like seagulls with women’s heads.

  Seagulls? That was hard to believe. They’d fooled me s
o I looked closer. It took me a while to really see because of the colored flashing lights, but their skin didn’t look like any human’s I’d seen. It was incredibly white. I was going to have to study demonology a lot more carefully.

  Drew and Jamal held out twenties, but the sexy demons ignored them. So, the guys kept adding bills to their fists until they were each holding out a hundred bucks.

  Without missing any steps in their dance routine, the twins swept by and grabbed the cash from the men and flashed killer smiles that got Drew hard down below. She was a sexy babe.

  Cleo and I switched into the twins’ minds before they pranced away.

  My gal’s stage name was Sibyl, but she and her identical twin had gone through countless names over their long lives. They’d also tried every possible way to earn money, but stripping was Sibyl’s favorite. Their work at the club was legal, and they’d figured out how to blend it with hooking after hours.

  Talk about creepy! I told Cleo. I can’t believe demons get to seduce horny humans. That ain’t a fair fight.

  Cleo thought back, Unfortunately, this is tame compared to some of the horrors you will witness.

  She had a point. I needed to toughen up.

  Sibyl and her sister screamed the lyrics of Billy Idol’s song, and the crowd joined in.

  All the while, Sibyl kept an eye out for high rollers. Unfortunately, Wednesdays weren’t ideal for finding really rich guys. While I searched Sibyl’s memory for contacts with other demons, she continued to tease the fools packed along the foot of the stage by shaking her tight little booty at them.

  The song ended, and “Heartbreaker” began. Each blonde grabbed a long handled fishing net and scooped up the cash strewn across the stage.

  The twins’ skin was as white as a gull’s, so they obviously weren’t human. That should’ve made the men wary, but none of them seemed to care. The blondes waved the nets around with such flair that some men threw money straight up into the air so they could snatch it before it landed. A couple of times, each of them pretended to be about to fall off the stage, and guys reached out to catch them. Then they danced away laughing.

  By the time their medley of songs was finishing, Sibyl was desperate for someone to share a table with and hopefully a bed later. She didn’t care what the guy looked like, only how much he seemed to be worth. On the other side of the stage, her sister was busy the same way.