I reappear in Hell.
Home.
Well, it’s actually my second home. But I try not to dwell on that. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts away. Now, I need my wits.
Entering the throne room, I stride toward the stone throne and gracefully sit on the seat, summoning my friends.
“Minions, come to me.” My voice echoes through the great hall. “I have a special assignment for those of you up to the task.”
Within a few seconds, a mix of Knights, a couple of Nephilim, and a handful of Marquises demons appear. I wasn’t sure if I would be strong enough to hold the Veil open to allow this many through. My father’s minions must see the writing on the wall and want to please the current lord.
“I will open the Veil in various locations. You are to disperse onto earth and create havoc in every place you land. Knights, I task you with increasing the murder rates, burglaries, and bar brawls in all the major cities around the world. You’ll start civil wars in as many countries you can.” I stand. “Marqs, you do what you were created for. I want to open the newspapers and read of torrential flooding, typhoons, tornadoes, and drought. And when you think that’s enough, know that it isn’t. I want to hear that hurricanes are at a record high, volcanoes are erupting even from ones that had lain dormant, and you are to decimate the lands with fire. Acres must burn from city to city. I want the angels so busy these next few weeks that once they address one issue, another arises.”
“Burn it down!” the Knights chant. “Burn everything down.” The room erupts into excited chaos. “This night is ours.” A frenzy overtakes the Knights, and a fight breaks out near my feet.
“Enough.” I hold up a hand. “Save that for the humans. Now, go. Ready yourselves. Bring enough weapons to damage the souls of the Ordinaries. Stomp on their lives. Squish their humanity. And above all, extinguish their hopes and dreams.”
A SHIMMER PASSED OVER my body when I lied in bed that night. It was Zoe’s voice telling me she was sorry. I didn’t know what she was apologizing for, not that I care. She doesn’t have anything to feel bad about.
I had finally found her.
I hated, absolutely hated, the idea of going to Minnesota. The land with freezing tundra, mosquitoes the size of small birds, and only five months of being warm outside. That’s not even half of the year. I liked it hot, where the blistering heat scorches the land every day of the year. I only heard of how cold it could get in the winters, and was not looking forward to experiencing them. Not one bit. Parkas were not in my wardrobe. They covered too much of my perfect body.
I had a good life where I’d been staying. So what if people didn’t like me and call me their friend? Who needed them when I had minions to boss around? I could be myself when I hung out with them and not have to hide who I really was. I could be ‘normal’. The only thing I could think of that was missing in my so-called life, besides being screamed at all the time, was the constant ache of someone I’d lost.
For eons, something was amiss. A dull pain that nothing seemed to quench bothered me, and no amount of bad deeds seemed to fix the problem. I didn’t even know what the issue was or who was lost. How could I find something or someone I never knew about?
But overall, I had been content. I flew under my father’s radar, even though I knew my future was in the family business. Until Dad said otherwise. Nope, the business could run without me. I was not about to set my neck on the line, not when I’ve had to protect myself from the rest of the family.
I was forced to come to the state of Minnesota, where they’re known for their renowned medical and research facilities. The world-famous Mayo Clinic was there. My ‘sister’ applied for a position in a private hospital and she accepted. Why not use a microscopic bit of magic to get in and learn the lingo in a matter of seconds?
I didn’t want to leave. I rebelled a bit. Okay, a lot. It had started out with not coming home for a few days at a time, or not checking in. As a grown adult, I shouldn’t have a curfew. I started to talk back, caused some fights, and resorted to plain old showing off my abilities. Immature? Yes.
Finally, Dad had to intervene and set me straight. He told me to quite acting childish. I hated high school the first time around and even the second. I appeared older that sometimes it was hard to pass off as a young twenty-something guy.
One night I had the most bizarre dream. I kept getting flashing images of a girl’s face. I didn’t know her but felt she was important. She had long, brown hair and dark green eyes. As the dream continued, I noticed she was of medium height, shorter than me. She came to under my chin, which would probably place her around five-foot-seven. I was happy about that because it meant that at some point, she would be standing next to me. I saw a yellow house, her running around a track, purple wings, and a sword—but somehow different from my own.
There really was no storyline to the dream, only images and somehow, somehow my gut told me that I would meet her soon. After I told this story to my ‘sister,’ she pushed me to go find her. It was she who nagged Dad until he had mandated that I go.
So now here I am, in the glorious, great state of Minnesota with Zoe as my prisoner.
I watch her in the vocivus room. Is it horrible that I didn’t create any windows for her? No, she can’t know where she is. Not yet. I need to know for sure, and that’s still a couple of weeks off.
I observed her those first couple of hours, second guessing myself. No magic hums against the walls. Maybe I got it wrong? Maybe those three protectors have it wrong, too. Or maybe she’s better at masking who she really is than I thought.
Zoe goes about her ‘days’ sleeping, eating, and exercising. As time passes she talks to herself. Mumbling, really, because I can’t make out any of the words.
I take notes of her routines that remind me of dancing. She’s fluid like flames that undulate to her own rhythm in the wind. The way her arms extend out; the swift kicks she projects. I imagine what a deadly force she could be with some training. Someone obviously started teaching her stances, punches, and kicks.
I chuckle to myself, knowing I interrupted her teacher.
I decide that Zoe’s doing well for being a captive, and I’ll check on her again later.
I’m off to see what those guardians are planning, but first I must check in with my recruit.
Chapter Seven
Zoe
WEDNESDAY, ELEVEN DAYS after prom.
I DID IT! I CAN CONJURE.
Immediately, my mind goes back to the room of requirement in the Harry Potter books. I guess this is sort of like that. My needs must be strong enough for my Light to conjure it. Just another thing I learned I could do. I always thought my Light was a defensive mechanism since it was only ever used in battles.
Protective Shields and Ribbons are the only objects I’ve created thus far. Now, I can add Conjuring to that short list.
I’m on a roll, and it’s like the floodgates have opened. More tank tops, T-shirts, shorts, and pants appear. But it’s more than clothes. Bars of soap, fresh towels, and a hairbrush lay near the sink.
That small couch and table mock me through the invisible wall. I stand and press my palm against it. Purple light shoots from my fingers. Radiance ripples from my hand outward like a drip of water that creates a wave. Humming fills my ears. The barrier shatters, and I step to the furniture.
A satisfied smile spreads across my lips.
Aiden can keep me here, but I think I figured out how I’m going to get out.
I hurry back to where the bed is, so he doesn’t know I broke the wall. Maybe he won’t notice or can’t tell.
Moving the bathroom screen—okay, I use my Light—I make the screen larger to allow more privacy. Quickly, I undress, take a record shower, and jump into my new clothes.
As I step out from behind the screen, a shadow moves and startles me. A loud gasp escapes my lips.
Aiden leans against the far wall, arms crossed in front of his broad chest. Of course, he is dressed in all bl
ack, and his wings are hidden.
Clap, clap, clap. “Bravo,” he says. “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out how to use this room.” He peeks at his cell phone. “It only took you under two weeks. I thought it would be much sooner than that, knowing what your worthless protectors think of you.”
“You,” I scream my best battle cry as my body launches toward him. “Why did you take me?” My hands close around his neck.
“You don’t know yet?” He disappears, but his voice is still audible. “You’ll figure it out, eventually. So, until then, mums the word from me.” He reappears on the other side of the room and scans me from head to toe. “A change of fresh clothes does the body good, wouldn’t you say?”
“Why are you here?” I clench my fists, forcing myself to not show all my cards. “I mean, why didn’t you come sooner. Why exactly now?” I run at him again, but he easily steps aside, making me miss my mark once more.
“I saw you break the wall.” This time he makes his body barely transparent, resembling a ghost. He nods to the couch. “I knew it was time to make my presence known.”
“Great, thanks.” My tone sounds flat. I know he’ll keep dodging my every move. “How long do you plan to keep me?”
He smirks. “I figured by now you’d learned that you can’t escape this room, and we’ll be spending many nights together from now on.” Aiden waves his hand, and a large mirror appears on the far wall, sectioned off by a clear partition. “Now, you can see your friends. It’s like watching live TV. There is no way you can communicate with them and let them know where you are. I’ve been watching them run around the world searching for you, and now you can, too.” He taps his head. “But I’m smarter than that and them. They won’t find you until I want them to. And I know you’ve tried to conjure a power cord. No mortal technology will work here.”
I’m about to wipe that smug smile off his lip, when a new idea springs forth in my mind. Fight fire with fire, or in this case—Light.
Dipping back into the recesses of my mind, my Light hums within my bloodstream, zapping every nerve. It’s ready to be called forth.
Purple light bolts out from my palms with such force, I stumble backwards. But I regain my composure and steady my aim at Aiden’s hated face. He easily sends red Light to meet mine, making me think of dueling wands. But this isn’t a movie; it’s real life and I could die.
The Light dances back and forth like an imaginary tug-of-war rope, each giving and taking. Even though he’s probably been a ... whatever he is for a lot longer than me, I’m holding my own. My hands and arms shake. I won’t be able to hold this up for much longer.
“You don’t have the stamina, Zoe.” He looks like he could keep going forever. Well, I’m not going to let him win this one.
With renewed determination, I dig deeper and latch onto my anger with him: him kidnapping me, his betrayal of my friendship, and whatever else I possibly could be mad at him for. I package all of that into a ball and force it into my Light.
He staggers back but regains his stance. His mouth drops open, and then slams shut. Narrowing his eyes at me, his Light pushes me against the wall.
Sweat beads on my forehead. On shaking legs, I collapse onto the cold floor. My head hangs in defeat.
“Nice try, Zoe.” Aiden straightens his shirt. “Better luck next time.”
“Wait,” I barely mumble, but I know he hears it. He glares at me, waiting. “What. Are. You?”
Aiden inhales and smirks again. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”
He disappears from the room, leaving me alone again. But now I have a special TV to watch. Seeing where my friends are and what they are doing to rescue me. Aiden just found a new kind of torture for me to endure.
The entire room hums with Light bouncing off the walls. The screen flickers on, showing Kieran’s house.
Chapter Eight
Zoe
KIERAN’S BODY APPEARS on the screen. He’s just left Shay in the den. Both look so ragged, with dark circles under their eyes. Kieran’s emotions are all over the place. His Light changes from red to green to yellow. I know he loves me. He ambles back into the den, but Shay is gone.
Angels! Where did Shay go?
I watch Kieran run to the weapons room. The door is wide open. He quickly glances at the racks and shelves, some guns and knives are missing.
Why didn’t Shay ask Kieran to go with?
Kieran’s wings appear.
He glances at the clock on the mantle. It’s after two in the morning. He takes out his cell phone and texts someone. The TV screen zooms in closer. He’s texting Sidelle and Vash.
Kieran: Shay’s gone. Anyone know where he went?
Kieran waits for a response.
Kieran: Going to see Michael now so will be offline for a while. Not sure when I’ll be back. Hopefully, it will be some good news or a solid lead.
A few seconds pass, and his phone vibrates with incoming messages.
Sidelle: Nada
Vash: Nope
Kieran leaves the den and heads outside toward Pascar, the angelic fountain statue. She’s the telecommunicator that was commissioned when the property was purchased to run as the safe house for all good Enlightens. Pascar has the direct line to the Council.
He scoops a handful of water and runs it over her feet. “Please inform the Council of Angels I need an audience with them,” he says.
This is the first time he’s spoken. The sound startles me.
Pascar’s stone wings move and her eyes lower.
“I need to know where they currently are gathering, and let Michael know I’m on my way to meet with him.”
She nods and goes back to her original form, her eyes turned upward along with her arms, reaching high into the sky.
Kieran’s wings extend, and he pushes himself off the ground to take flight. He soars through the clouds, letting the moonlight bathe around him while the stars twinkle. He heads toward the Northern Star and passes through something.
With my Angel Light, I can see him fly through a veil.
He’s greeted with a forty-story high rise building set in the middle of a small city. No other structure is higher than three stories. Most of the city is made of up houses, shops, and trading markets. It seems that today, even though it’s the middle of the night to humans, the city is bustling. Surrounding the buildings are parks with winding pathways, ponds that overlook into the Ordinaries’ world, and wonderful scenic displays.
He floats past all the pretty gardens.
The glass double doors of the Angel Tower disappear as he nears. The floors are built around a center atrium that goes all the way to the top. Kieran flies in the center to the top floor.
He sits in a leather modal-style chair. The waiting area is decorated in shades of black and white. A large black and white rug lay on the floor, covering two-toned white flooring. A small, white coffee table displays Angel News and a few other popular tabloid magazines humans enjoy. The room colors contrast his gold wings and tan pants.
“Kieran, come in, please,” a voice booms.
I watch as Kieran disappears and then materializes into an office. Someone stands before an ornate white desk. His back is to us while he leans his palm on a floor to ceiling window that surveys the entire city. He’s wearing a black suit. He turns to face us.
“I thought I would try out why humans call this a monkey suit.” The older angel tugs at the collar. “I’ve only had this thing on for a couple of hours.” His shoulders squirm. “I can see why they don’t like wearing them. They’re too constrictive to do anything. How do people dance in these things? That’s where they usually wear these to, correct?”
It’s funny to see an angel in a tuxedo. I snicker and keep watching.
“Yes, Michael,” Kieran says.
So that’s what the Archangel Michael really looks like? I would have thought him to be older, since he’s one of the original angels. But this being who stands in front of Kieran only lo
oks to be in his early forties. He’s handsome in the suit. But aren’t most angels?
“I know you’re not here to listen to me talk about clothes, so don’t let me stop you from catching me up to speed.”
“As you are aware, Zoe was taken at prom.” Kieran sits on a stool, letting his wings hang freely. “She has since contacted Shay and said that she doesn’t know who for sure has her or where she is, but she is being fed.”
“I see.” Michael strolls to his desk and pulls out the chair, sitting. “But she was dancing with her neighbor, Aiden. Is that correct?”
“Yes. We believe that Aiden is disguising who he is.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Shay thinks it was Aiden who tortured him when he was taken by the Marqs at Disneyworld.”
What? Shay never told me that.
“He only saw the eyes of his captor, but they were aqua like his own,” Kieran continues. “So when he saw Zoe dancing with someone who also has aqua eyes, he thought it couldn’t be a coincidence.” Michael nods but doesn’t say anything. “There are some discrepancies with Aiden’s outer appearance, too. We all see different variations of him, from his height, to his hair, to his eye color. I’ve always seen him like me. Sidelle said that she sees him like a fairy. Vash thinks that Aiden can mask himself.”
What exactly is Aiden that he can do that?
“That young man, Vash, is going to be a great leader to the Spiritus Pack,” Michael says. “They are lucky to have him. Unfortunate that his father had to pass so soon though.” He leans back in the chair. “I’ve heard of some angels who are blessed with the gift of change, it’s called Mutatio, but I’ve never met any of them who could. We all can change the way we look to the Ordinaries, but to change it individually to angels and fairies would be a real special case.”
“No one has ever seen his Mark. I’ve never been that close to him to sense it or use my Light on him. Although Zoe swears he has a tattoo on his arm. She saw it in gym class.”
Wars & Wings Page 4