Dark Angel (Anak Trilogy)

by Sherry Fortner

  “I just don’t require it. I can sleep if I want. However, if I go for long periods without sleeping, it ages me. I’ve aged probably two human years in the last seventeen years you’ve been alive, because I refused to sleep. I still don’t age as fast as a 100% human would, but I do age when I am sleep-deprived.”

  “And you haven’t slept but once in seventeen years because you have been watching and protecting me. Is that what you expect me to believe?” I indicated with the tone of my voice that I didn’t believe him for a second.

  “It’s just the way it is, Annie, whether you believe it or not.”

  I jumped to my feet wanting to change the subject.

  “Let’s go for that ride now.”

  “Let’s,” Zell smiled and took my hand.

  It was heavenly speeding down I-85 with the top down on Zell’s sports car. He had exchanged the Estoque for his two seater sports car while I slept. The weather was perfect—a warm, spring afternoon.

  “Where are we going?” Zell asked.

  “Let’s go downtown and walk around,” I suggested.

  I closed my eyes and imagined I was back at Zell’s island fortress.

  “What are you thinking about?” Zell asked me.

  “I was wondering what you have been doing the last six thousand years.”

  “Waiting for you,” Zell answered solemnly.

  “No, really, what kind of things have you done? Six thousand years is a long time to fill up with activities.”

  “I took the one thing my father gave me, the knowledge to fashion knives and swords from metal, and I made a business of it. I have sold my swords and knives to knights, kings, and militaries throughout the ages. King Richard and Lancelot fought with my swords, and I fought by their side. King Richard even knighted me for my valor in battle. You may call me Sir Zell if you wish. Have you ever heard of the Sword of Excalibur?”

  “You did not. You didn’t make Excalibur! “

  “I am a very talented blade smith. Who do you think thrust Excalibur into that Rock?” Zell laughed.

  “Is that how you have made your money?” I asked.

  “When you have a business that has lasted for thousands of years, you make a dollar or two.” Zell laughed. “Seriously, I have so much that I don’t know what to do with it all. I have many charities that I completely fund. I have money invested and banked all over the world. Lionel, my assistant, keeps track of it. His sister, Isadora, runs my household and keeps everything going. They are descendants of a family that has cared for me through the centuries. Isadora’s son, Lionel the XXXVIII is in college now. He is majoring in business. He will work in my company, Starr Cutlery, until his uncle dies. Then he will take his place in my home as my assistant.”

  “Lionel, the thirty-eighth?” I laughed. Zell laughed too.

  “Yes, they don’t show much variety in names.”

  “Why? Why would a family dedicate itself to you throughout the ages?”

  I saw clouds of darkness veil his eyes as he began to relate Lionel’s story. “I saved the original Lionel and his father from an early death many, many years ago.” Zell had pulled his car over at the curb and parked. “How about a coffee, and I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”

  “That sounds great,” I answered truly interested in hearing the rest of his story. We didn’t immediately head for the coffee shop. Instead, we investigated all the shops along the road in the artsy district of Atlanta. Zell took my hand, and we wandered in and out of shops and wove in and out of artists who sat on the sidewalk painting for patrons who posed for them, or we watched curiously over their shoulder while they painted for a patron. I talked Zell into posing with me for an artist. Reluctantly, he did so. He didn’t seem to like having his picture made or painted.

  I hadn’t noticed that the artist was drawing caricatures. Zell and I both laughed uncontrollably when the artist finished. The artist captured the strong lines of Zell’s jaw line and had exaggerated them. Overblown muscles bulged from the shirt that the artist had drawn on Zell. The artist drew me with hair wildly flowing everywhere in the portrait. Pouting, full lips, and big, wide blue eyes stared back at me from the caricature. The comical thing was that the artist had drawn beautiful wings on my back.

  I laughed so hard that I thought I could barely catch my breath.

  “You put the wings on the wrong person,” I gasped telling the artist of his mistake laughing until tears rolled down my face. Zell bent over clutching his waist laughing at the ridiculous portrait. The artist was totally confused looking first at me and then at Zell trying to understand the joke.

  Zell stood up trying to quell the laughter and patted the man on the back.

  “Thank you. I love your masterful interpretation of us.” Zell said as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed the artist a fistful of hundred-dollar bills. He reached back in his wallet and gave the artist another handful of bills. “Would you make another just like it? I would like for both of us to have one. I love it,” Zell said again holding it up to look closer.

  Apparently, the artist no longer cared what the joke was about. He laughed too, while holding a wad of hundreds in his fist. Zell promised to return tomorrow and pick up the portraits. He took my hand, and we walked a short distance to the coffee shop still trying to compose ourselves. Zell ordered a couple of cappuccinos, and we found a secluded little table underneath the only tree in the small dining area near the street.

  “Go on. Finish your story,” I urged Zell eagerly.

  “Lionel was a first cousin of King Arthur. King Arthur left him in command when he went to fight the Saxons in the Battle of Mt. Badon. Mordred, son of Arthur’s half-sister, Morgause, attempted to kill Lionel and his father, and would have been successful if I had not intervened and fought off the assassins. It was Mordred’s intention to take the throne from Arthur while he was away in battle. There were rumors that Mordred was Arthur’s illegitimate son and felt the kingdom was his. I never asked Arthur if the rumors were true, sometimes I wish I had asked. Anyway, Lionel and his father were so grateful to me for saving their lives that they never left my side after that. Throughout the generations, the first-born son has always been named Lionel and raised to care for me, my home, and my fortune. I never asked it of any of them. I have tried to stop them, but it is no use. They are not servants. I have made their families very wealthy. They could go their own way at any time, but yet they have all chosen to stay. I am grateful to them all.

  That faraway, sad look that I was becoming accustomed to came back to Zell’s eyes.

  “I thought King Arthur was only a legend,” I said quietly patting Zell’s hand that lay on the table.

  “Most legends are based in truth. King Arthur was very real, an incomparable warrior. It is said that in one battle, he killed hundreds of the barbaric Saxons with his own hand.” Zell laughed. ”Actually, it took both our hands that day.”

  “You fought with King Arthur?” I asked in awe.

  “Aye, at his side,” Zell answered quietly. I have fought alongside good men against evil throughout history. I could have killed Hitler once. We were standing face to face. I have made it my duty to assist though, so I led others to him. They cut him off from his troops, and that is when he committed suicide.”

  “Why did you not kill him when you had the chance?”

  ”King Herod, Mordred, Vlad III the Impaler, you know him as Count Dracula, Stalin, Ivan the Terrible, Hitler, and countless other evil rulers, I have encountered them all. Was it to be my face and name to show up throughout history as the avenger which killed all these monsters? That would have been a little suspicious, don’t you think? I don’t think I could have escaped notoriety. I would have become a superhero type, and that is not my mission. My mission is you.”

  “I can see your point, and yet I feel kind of guilty for some reason. Is it painful to remember all the people you have known, loved, and had to watch die?”

  “More than you can know. There ha
ve been thousands of people I have been very fond of. I have helped bury scores of relatives and people I have loved—always going on alone. Being eternal is not as glorious as you would think. My life has been extremely lonely most of the time. There has been only one true love in my life.”

  A pang of jealously hit me like a train. Zell had loved someone before and had to watch her grow old and die. I felt sorry for him, but I felt sorry for me too. I don’t treat him very well, but I had gotten used to the thought that he belonged exclusively to me. To think there were others hurt a bit, and I fell silent. I wondered if he had been a father. Should I dare to ask him, or would it be too painful for him? I decided not to ask him, but now that the thought had come into my head. It would not let me rest. I had to know who she was, and if they married. I had to know if Zell had been a father and had to bury his own children. I felt so rotten for being mean to him when all he has ever done is be kind to me and protective.

  “Would it be too painful to tell me about her?” I asked taking Zell’s hand in my own.

  “Tell you about who?” Zell asked puzzled.

  “Your one true love,” I whispered leaning close to him.

  “Ah, her,” he smiled dreamily.

  “What was she like? Did you have a child? Tell me about her please,” I begged Zell quietly.

  Zell glanced away, and I thought for a moment that the memories were too painful for him to talk about. After long seconds of staring into the street, he turned back to me and sighed.

  “She was the most beautiful woman whom I have ever seen in my six thousand years of life. She had such an energy about her. We had so much fun together, and I was devoted to her.”

  “Awe,” I murmured feeling my heart twist a bit. “Did you marry her? Were you a father?” I could not keep the questions inside me any longer. I had to know if Zell had loved her enough to marry her.

  “No, we didn’t marry, though I wanted to marry her,” he sighed looking incredibly sad. “I wanted children too, but she would not marry me,” he shook his head sadly.

  “Why Zell? Why wouldn’t she marry you? Didn’t she love you back?” I asked tears coming to my eyes at the thought of his unrequited love.

  “She didn’t feel about me the same way that I felt about her. I believe the way she put it was ‘I creeped her out.’ She equated me to a nightmare. She thought that I was a stalker and a psycho. Yes, those were her words precisely—a stalker and a psycho. In addition, she is fearful of having to swim through the drool of my admirers if she chose to be with me,” he added his voice breaking as he tried to hold in his laughter.

  “Oh! You are rotten,” I growled pushing his hand which I had been holding back in his direction.

  “Alas, now I am a rotting corpse in addition to being a stalker and a psycho,” he chuckled.

  “Come on, let’s swing by the zoo,” I said jumping to my feet and pulling Zell up deciding to change the subject. “There’s a big gorilla there who reminds me of you.”

  Zell’s mood lifted. He smiled and drew me close hugging me.

  “Thank you, Annie,” he whispered.

  “For what,” I said puzzled.

  “For being the light in my otherwise dark existence,” Zell replied.

  “We’ll see if you still feel that way after putting up with me for a couple of months,” I laughed.

  “I will,” Zell whispered still holding me close. “I meant it you know. You are my one true love. There has never been anyone else.”

  “You flatter me. I don’t think I’m worth a six thousand year wait.”

  “No,” Zell whispered pulling back and lifting my chin. “You are worth much more than that.”

  “Come on now. The zoo awaits.” I wiggled in his arms trying to escape. I didn’t want Zell or anyone else promising me their undying love.

  Reluctantly, Zell released me holding on only to my hand. We walked the short distance to the zoo. We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the zoo arm in arm. We were enjoying ourselves so much that it was already dark when we left the zoo. Zell’s light-hearted mood changed, and I could feel his mood swing as if it were a tangible object.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I can feel evil close by,” Zell answered in a low tone.

  “Is it a Dark One?” I asked clutching Zell’s arm.

  “I don’t think so,” Zell answered looking into the dark night. I could feel rather than see him begin to unbutton his shirt.

  “Is this why you always wear button up shirts?” I nervously giggled.

  “The bulge of my swords underneath a tee-shirt is hard to explain,” Zell gave a half-hearted laugh in return.

  It was then that we saw them. There were six thuggish-looking guys around Zell’s car. Two of them were actually seated inside the convertible.

  “I would send you back to the zoo, but it may be a ruse to separate us,” Zell said coolly, and continued to walk toward them.

  “I wouldn’t leave you even if you ordered me back to the zoo. I’m the reason you are in this mess.”

  “Stay behind me then,” Zell responded looking at me tenderly for a moment, and then he turned facing the men.

  “May I help you gentlemen?” Zell called out to them pushing me behind him.

  “Yeah man, toss us yo’ keys so’s we can take yo’ car for a ride.” The closest one to us was dressed in a tee-shirt about three sizes too big. His cap was turned so that the bill of his cap was over his shoulder. He pulled a gun from the waist band of a baggy pair of jeans.

  Zell took out his keys and tossed them at the feet of the thug with a gun. Zell moved me to his other side, his side facing away from the gunman.

  “And yo’ hoe too.”

  “The car you can have. The girl stays with me.” Zell said sternly.

  Evidently, the gang didn’t like his answer and the two seated in the car stood up on his leather seats and jumped out while the closest one with a gun quickly crossed the space between us and the car holding his gun out at eye level shaking it at us. He stopped three feet in front of me holding the gun across from my forehead. The rest of his posse pulled weapons and moved in our direction. I could feel Zell stiffen beside me.

  The guy with the gun in front of me waved the gun in my face threatening to kill me in the most vulgar language I had ever heard. I was dead. I knew I was dead, or they would shoot Zell and take me with them. I was sure when they finished with me that I would be dead too.

  Zell moved like lightning. I heard material ripping and the faint, yet somehow familiar, metallic scrape as he pulled the swords out from underneath his shirt. I saw the gunman’s hand with the gun still grasped in it separate from his body and fall to the ground as if in slow motion. Zell twirled like a deadly top swords flashing in the light from the street lamps. The gunman who was not much more than a kid, maybe eighteen or nineteen, grabbed his arm where the hand had been seconds earlier and fell to the ground screaming. Blood streamed into pools around his writhing figure on the ground.

  In an instant, Zell’s wings snapped out and covered us as bullets began to hit the wings and fall with little pings to the ground. It became silent as the clips were emptied. Zell reacted quickly, withdrawing his wings and simultaneously throwing both swords. On each end of the group, two gunmen were knocked backward into the street impaled as the swords sank deep into their chests coming out of their backs. He drew the sword with the flame, and leapt across the parking lot in the blink of an eye decapitating the next closest thug with it. There was no blood. The sword cauterized the cut as it sliced through the flesh cutting off the blood flow. The gunman blinked twice, and then his head slowly rolled from his shoulders and across the road a few feet. The two thugs which were left backed up so fast that their baggy pants tripped them as they tried to retreat. Zell grabbed the one to his left and threw him across a five-lane road where he landed against a brick building. I could hear the crunch of bone as his head flattened like the bottom of an iron as it hit. The thug slid s
lowly to the ground leaving a trail of blood, bone, and flesh on the building as he slithered down the brick wall. The remaining carjacker began to scream.

  “Stop,” I yelled as Zell advanced toward the gangster who was left standing. Zell hesitated. “Leave this one for a witness.”

  Stepping around Zell, I faced the one that had escaped the mayhem.

  “Put your gun down, or I will release him to finish you,” I shouted. The gunman quickly did as he was told and laid the gun on the ground falling to his knees as he did so.

  “Please don’t let him kill me,” he whimpered.

  “Count yourself blessed,” I spat at him. “Go back and tell others like your friends lying here that any evil from this point on will be met with swift justice, not from the law, but from this avenging angel.” I pointed to Zell and turned just slightly. I gasped when I looked at Zell. The very sight of him scared me silly. He was at his full height maybe twelve or thirteen feet tall. His white enormous wings which were outlined in bold black and silver feathers were stiff and erect. He was splattered with blood and held a metal sword that he had retrieved from the bodies in one hand and the flaming sword in the other. His shirt had ripped from his body as he shape-shifted to his full height, and his trousers from the thigh down were ripped into shreds. His face, no longer warm and teasing, was as stone. His eyes were piercing and dark, no longer the warm silver color that I loved. The cool, night breeze blew his long, golden hair gently around his stone face. I was in shock and awe. I had never seen him in a full warrior state before, and he was beyond frightening. He had fought like a Trojan. It was obvious that he was not of this world. It was then that I knew beyond a shadow of doubt Zell was everything he said he was, and he spoke the truth about himself and my destiny. I began to shake uncontrollably. I tried to pull myself together. Turning my back to him and breathing heavily, I faced the punk in front of me.

  “Take a good look at him. If you ever commit an evil act again, he will find you. There will not be a jail cell with free meals, a judge, or a jury. There will not be life behind bars with cable television and workout equipment. You will be dead. Your life is no longer your own. You must compensate for all the evil you have done. You must tell others that evil will be met with his sword. You must spend the remainder of your life helping those you have victimized, helping the helpless, telling of this night and how your life was spared, or he will find you!”