Wasteland

by Lynn Rush

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, little demon,” Locien sang out.

  I checked the sky. Overhead, a dark figure followed by a trail of mist circled. I leapt to the next tree. This one was shorter, giving me more space to expand my wings. I crouched on the highest branch that would support my weight and filled my lungs with the crisp, woodsy-scented air.

  One more check showed the blue sky. I leapt, soaring above the trees and scanned the entire area with one spin.

  All clear.

  My heart hammered. “Show yourself, Demon.” My voice echoed.

  “Master to you, son.” He darted from the trees behind me.

  I dodged his reach, spinning around. The stench of smoky sulfur smothered my senses. Anger and power. Combined, they often proved lethal.

  Locien approached again, his eyes flaming red, but his once-chalky skin was coal black. Long, wings protruded from his back and flapped with a misting fury.

  I hugged my wings to me and lost altitude, while holding up my hand to slash through him. I met only dark mist and came back covered in soot.

  Dark magiks.

  A wicked laugh ripped through the open sky. He veered left and circled back to me. I couldn’t fight something that wasn’t solid. I darted ahead, full speed, and he followed. I dipped, he dipped. I soared to the heavens, he mimicked.

  Think, David.

  He must have worked a jet engine into his demonic spell, because Locien veered below me and rocketed up. His body might be mist, but his head felt like a cannon ramming into my ribs.

  Black nails lacerated my chest. He swiped at my neck. I bent my knee into his stomach and caught a solid piece. A quick flick of my wrist and my nails went through his neck.

  Mist, like his body.

  Only parts of him were solid?

  Another guttural laugh rolled out from his fanged mouth. “I’m not called Master for no reason, son.”

  “I am not your son, Locien.” I pushed my hand against his face, and he disconnected.

  “I raised you. You’re my son.”

  “By contract only, and if you haven’t noticed my wings, the contract is gone.”

  “It’s so much more than a contract. You have no idea.” He swiped his long-nailed hand at me.

  A sharp jerk of my wings, and I darted out of his range.

  “I warned Lucifer you would betray us.”

  I hovered a safe distance away. Crimson mist sifted from his beady, red eyes as they flamed, focused on me.

  “Somehow, your human side dominated, despite having demon blood in your veins.”

  I lunged. One swipe at his chest and one at his neck. He solidified his foot and planted it against my chest. The force sent me soaring across the sky.

  I kicked my feet over my head and flipped, then sped toward the hotel, hoping Beka found the dagger. The blade to the heart must be the only way to kill him. His neck never solidified for me to sever his head.

  “Can’t you feel it, son? The darkness in your blood coursing through your veins.”

  I thrust harder, distancing myself from his pursuit. Beka’s bright wings appeared in a distant treetop.

  I veered toward her. Please let her have found the dagger. I glanced back, but Locien was gone. I slowed and did a revelation, scanning the skies. How did I fight that which I could not see or touch?

  Keeping a keen eye on the trees below, I approached Beka. She hopped to her feet and launched into the sky. A long, dark cloud trailed her.

  She fluttered to the side with the speed of a hummingbird, dodging his advance. She bolted toward me. The dark mist approached her quickly.

  “Beka. Behind you.”

  She tucked her wings and did a free fall. The mist zoomed over her toward me. I advanced. I would meet him head on, if he solidified his head to hit me, I would snap his neck.

  We collided like two Mack trucks, but when I reached for his neck, it was mist. Yet two arms encompassed my chest from behind.

  “David,” Beka yelled.

  Locien sunk his fangs into my neck. The pain was instant and intense. The sting seared up to the base of my skull. Tendons and bones popped and crackled beneath the pressure of his jaw. It was as if he was trying to detach my head with his teeth.

  I clawed at his stomach, but his grip limited me. His body crushed my wings to my back. No room to fly.

  Suddenly, his fangs retracted. He let out a howl that burst my eardrums. Black blood spurted from his neck. He released me and swung. His palm met Beka’s chin. She flipped backward.

  Darkness nipped at my vision as I fell through the air, my wings cramped and bent close to my body. Locien aimed for Beka. Her scream sliced the foggy daze the blood loss and wound had caused.

  She darted side-to-side, dodging Locien’s vicious nails. The sun reflected something falling from Beka on that last dodge.

  The dagger!

  I raced toward the weapon. Locien turned and sped at the falling object. He was faster, but I was closer. I pumped my wings with a strength I didn’t know I had. In seconds I was upon the weapon. I snatched it to my chest, inches from the treetops. A whoosh of cool air sifted by me as Locien zoomed past. He crashed into the trees, and another spine-tingling howl ripped through the air.

  “Beka. Cave.” I took off in the direction of the river, toward our special spot. I knew my former master would follow.

  Beka joined me, flying close below. “He’s nothing but mist.”

  “I know. Solidifies parts he needs. I have slid my nails over his neck, but it is never solid. I think only the knife can end him.”

  A dark mist wove between the trees beneath us. “Take this.” I lowered to Beka and passed the dagger to her. “Come to the cave from a different direction. Use your stellar knife throwing skills when you can.”

  “But he’s mist.”

  “His heart must still beat. Pierce it with the dagger. Like Jessica said.”

  I lowered myself to her and traced my hand against her spine. “Be careful, Mate.”

  “You, too.” She winked. “See you soon.”

  She veered left, then straight up. I turned my focus to the shadowy figure in the trees below me. I only wished it was my shadow from the beaming sun overhead. Sweat trickled down my temple, stinging a cut that had yet to heal. My pulse hammered.

  The trees ended, and I zoomed over the deep valley. The trees expelled a black figure. Locien flapped his wings and gained altitude.

  “Sending your wife away?”

  “This is between you and me. And will end with me killing you.”

  “You’d kill your own father?”

  “You are not.”

  “But I am. And not just because of the contract.” He groaned. “I still remember the supple breast I suckled while having my way with dear, sweet, mother, Margaret.”

  CHAPTER 45

  My stomach cramped, and my wings went limp, sending me plummeting to the ground. My distraction was rewarded with an iron-hard blow to my face. I jetted into the air.

  “No.”

  “Didn’t read about that in your little prophecy, did you? Did your precious Jessica share that bit of information with you?”

  I aimed for the sun. He followed, keeping his distance but staying within earshot.

  “Your little mother-to-be made the deal with Lucifer. After she signed, he let me loose on her, and I enjoyed every inch of her.” A wicked growl spewed out from Locien’s thin, black lips. “Every inch.”

  “Lies.” Jessica warned me about his deception.

  I tucked my wings in and dove at the demon. I stretched for his neck, but my hands went through him. His palm connected with my chin, and a burst of iron-tainted liquid gushed in my mouth. Tears ruined my vision.

  The cliffs whizzed by me as I fell hard and fast to the river. My father?

  No wonder Beka’s blood blazed when it merged with mine while I held her neck together. Darkness literally tainted my blood. Even now, after Jessica converted me. Hence the dark wings and nails.

  No
. Jessica said to not be deceived. He is lying.

  I flapped my wings and darted left. A screech demanded my focus. Locien approached me like a torpedo, holding a shiny dagger. My hands met his. I knew they’d have to be solid for him to hold the metal object.

  I squeezed, his bones grinding beneath my grip. He pushed all his weight into me and put his other hand on the hilt of the dagger for added pressure. The tip neared my neck. I flapped my wings but was on my back. I couldn’t maneuver well. Hadn’t practiced like Beka.

  The riverbed rushed toward me, specifically the massive bolder aimed to collide with my back in seconds.

  “It saddens me to have to kill my offspring.” Locien’s rancid breath churned my gut.

  “You lie.”

  “True. But not about this, son.”

  I pushed against his hand, trying to get the blade farther from my flesh.

  “You are demon, no matter what kind of feathers shoot out from your back.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. No matter how often you bed your white angel, you will always be demon. You are not worthy. You will never be pure. You are my son. Flesh and blood demon.”

  “I chose the Light. No longer demon.”

  A roar erupted from Locien’s mouth, and his strength intensified. “You’ve made your bed, time to lay in it. Isn’t that what they say these days?”

  “You’re a little outdated, Locien.” Beka’s white wings came into focus like a laser beam. Her pale-skinned hand cuffed Locien’s, and ripped it from me. Most of her body went through his mist, but she held onto the solid portion so he tumbled off me.

  He backhanded Beka’s cheek but she was relentless. He flicked his hand up, nails extended.

  “Beka,” I yelled.

  He slashed at her neck. She ducked. His nails grated her cheek instead. She grimaced, but held on. He swiped again and nicked her neck. Her wings spread, she fluttered up and over Locien as he oriented himself to flap his wings.

  “Here.” Beka tossed me the dagger.

  I snatched the treasure from the air and ripped off the sheath. Locien darted at me. Our weapons met with a spark. He swiped. I poked at his chest. He dodged backward, the edge grazing his stomach.

  His blade nicked my shoulder, stinging like acid on my skin. We faced one another again, hovering barely ten feet from the rocky riverbed. Beka fluttered above, her eyes shifting from me to Locien, probably searching for a time to swoop in and help.

  He’d raped my mother. That image fueled my fury. I charged. I’d never known what Mother looked like, her name, or anything about her. But I’d imagined.

  Not much else to do in confinement.

  I’d envisioned long raven hair, height matching Beka’s, but her eyes were Mediterranean blue. Her actions condemned me to over four hundred years of servitude to Locien. All the killing I’d done. All the demons I helped convert. Anger fueled my power, and I torpedoed toward Locien.

  His dagger, pointed forward, rush toward me. I rolled, swiped my weapon at his neck, but it caught air. I circled around the other side of him, and jabbed my dagger into his chest.

  His red eyes flamed, and he swung his knife. I bent back, evading the weapon, but kept my arm straight, my blade buried in his chest. He laughed and cracked his knuckles against my nose.

  I’d missed his heart.

  I pushed off him and flipped away. He was on me in the next breath, the blade cold against my throat, splicing my skin. But he stilled the weapon.

  I stopped my wings. He slowed his cadence.

  “I’ve waited four hundred years for this moment, David.” He bared his fangs. “Lucifer’s favorite, protected, half-breed.”

  I locked my fingers around the boney hand holding the knife. “Outlasted your temptations, though, didn’t I?” I said while I snuck my other hand toward his chest, dagger held tight. If I was going to die, he was too. At least Jessica would live.

  “David,” Beka yelled.

  My eyes stung. Locien’s gaze flicked upward.

  I stabbed.

  He sliced.

  Warm liquid spewed from my neck, splattering against his hand, and my world tilted. Stabbing rocks dug into my back.

  Bones crunched. Probably my wings snapping, ribs shattering. Breath rushed from my lungs, and a sharp pain ripped through my spine. Locien’s face hardened, fangs bared. His mouth opened, but his tongue turned ash gray.

  Soot and smoky ash streamed onto my face, scratching my eyes, stealing the air my lungs so desperately needed. My arms fell limp by my side and Locien’s ashes settled over me.

  “David.” Beka’s voice was frantic, but it sounded so far away. Muffled, like cotton filled my ears.

  Streams of icy air whipped through my neck. Like wind blew right through me. I told my hand to move to my throat to cover the wound I knew gushed, but it didn’t obey. Nothing did. Not even my lungs. They burned, screaming for air. I gasped, but only liquid oozed in, choking me. Gurgles bubbled in my throat.

  Rocks pinged off my cheek and forehead. Beka fell to her knees beside me.

  Her mouth moved but static drowned out her sweet voice. I wanted to hear it. Needed to. One last time. I knew she said my name, though. I could tell by how her mouth moved, and her teeth touched her bottom lip. Tears streamed, leaving flesh-colored streaks down her red-stained cheeks.

  I felt the tugging as she clamped her hand around my neck. Her other hand slid beneath the back of my skull. I wanted to reach out and touch her silky skin, but my arms were dead weight. A chill seeped into my bones, starting at my toes, like I was being immersed in ice water.

  Her mouth moved so fast, talking to me, but no sound filtered in through the thickness. Darkness curved the corners of my vision until I looked through a small hole of light. But it was Beka’s face at the end of that dark tunnel. The last thing I would see would be Beka.

  I could die with that.

  CHAPTER 46

  I stood in the middle of an unending sea of sand. Bleached, like granules found in an hourglass. I patted my bare stomach. Warm, like the sun had baked my skin for hours. I touched my neck and found it intact. My massive, ebony wings extended from either side of me. A slight breeze ruffled the feathers, cooling them from the penetrating sun perched in the orange-tinted sky.

  “Beka?” My voice echoed, yet I was in the open. Nothing surrounded me but an ocean of sand. It went as far as the skyline, making it difficult to determine where the sand ended and the sky began. “Jessica?”

  Had I been banished to the wastelands? Not worthy of hell because of my wings, yet not worthy of heaven because of the demon blood tainting my veins.

  No matter where I was, if it was apart from Beka, I would consider it hell.

  “You are not in hell, David,” a man’s voice said from behind me.

  I whipped around.

  “Do not be afraid. I am nothing you should fear.” The man smiled.

  He stepped toward me, hands clasped behind his back. Brilliant pearlescent wings, with a span of twenty feet, stuck out from behind him. His towering presence threw a long shadow over me.

  “Where am I?”

  A breeze gusted over us. His russet hair flittered back, off his shoulders. A deep scar spanning the right side of his face glimmered beneath the sunshine. A belt around his flowing, white shirt cinched the fabric to his narrow waist and housed a dagger.

  I couldn’t get a sense of him. Friend or foe? I inched back. Grains of sand whispered over my bare feet. I readied my wings for flight.

  “Where do you think you are?” he asked.

  I faced the cobalt sky, then focused on the stranger. My nose tickled at the faint hint of lilac. My heart tumbled as the scent triggered images of Beka in my mind. My eyes burned.

  “If I must smell Beka, yet can never touch her sweet face again, then I would assume I am in hell.”

  The stranger’s leathery face creased as the corner of his mouth shifted into a crooked smile. “I forget, you were demon for so many years, new to the
life of an Angel.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Michael.”

  “The Archangel?”

  He nodded.

  “You know my mother.” I scanned the never ending dunes. “Is she here?”

  “No. I’m sorry, David. She sold her soul, along with yours, to Lucifer. She suffers along with the other souls he’s captured.”

  “But you saw her. You know—” Emotion stole my voice.

  “Your imagination of what she looked like was not far off, yet, her hair was red. She often wore a subtle smile, as if she knew a secret no one else did.” The man studied the ground. “But she was not content with her station in life.”

  “Station?”

  “Slave. She longed for a life of luxury, as many mortals do.” He shook his head, sending his shiny hair into the air around his face. “It brought her to darkness.”

  “But not me.”

  Michael inched toward me. I retreated. He reached out his hand, but I waved him off. “Your mother did not know of your importance, otherwise, she would not have sold your soul into bondage so easily.” Michael’s chest puffed out, and he speared me with a stare. “You have been the prophesied Angel all along, young one. Lucifer knew this and tricked your mother into possession of your soul.”

  But now I was dead. It didn’t seem fair.

  “We intervened to the extent we were allowed.”

  “Allowed?”

  “We cannot impose our will among the humans. We can only present choices. Options. You had to be given a choice. So, I demanded a clause to allow you that same choice between good and evil your mother’s actions stripped from you.” Michael’s hand went to his side.

  The long, white sleeves covered his arms, to his knuckles. His loose cream-colored pants waved in the subtle breeze. My pounding heart robbed me of the breath my empty lungs craved.

  “Had Lucifer not imposed his will by tricking your mother into selling your soul, you would have been born and fallen into the role as Guardian Angel. The one prophesied to join with the Guardian Queen, Rebeka David.”

  “Instead, Locien raped my mother, made her pregnant, then she died while birthing me.” My knees buckled beneath my weight, and I slouched to the ground. I fisted palms full of sand. “The things he made me do.”