Jaylen crawled over another corpse before he saw the source of the moaning and whimpering. A charred angel without most of his feathers was writhing on the ground. He was nearly unrecognizable, but once he opened his white eyes, Jaylen knew exactly who it was. "Zeriel . . ."
Zeriel reached out to Jaylen, but could only cry out in agony. His clothes had been burned from him and every inch of his body was covered in massive burns.
Jaylen crawled to him. "Zeriel, did you . . . did you rip your feathers out to save me from bleeding to death?"
Zeriel nodded his head and screamed for the pain of even that tiny movement.
"Can I help you? Tell me how to help you!"
"Kill . . . me."
"No! No, I can't do that. You saved me. Now let me save you!" Jaylen reached out to place his hand on Zeriel's forehead, but he broke down in a fit of violent coughing. Blood soaked the front of his clothing and he had to rest for a moment before even attempting to hold out his hand again. With all of his strength, Jaylen tried to summon his magic to do whatever kind of healing he knew he should be capable of doing, but nothing happened. He was drained and weakened beyond hope.
Zeriel could do nothing but scream.
It became all too clear what Jaylen had to do, but that didn't mean he was ready to do it. "I can't lose you. I can't lose you, Zeriel! Don't leave me."
The longer he stayed there watching his friend suffering from the burns, the easier this decision became. Eventually, Jaylen grew sick again from hearing the angel's tormented cries. He found a jagged piece of broken metal sticking out of the side of the trench and pried it free. It had come down to this, but he had to do it. Jaylen placed the serrated edge against Zeriel's burnt throat. "Thank you for saving me and thank you for everything. I wish it didn't have to end like this. I love you, Zeriel." Jaylen dragged the edge of the metal across the angel's throat and pressed against it until Zeriel was motionless and his cries faded away.
With a heart filled to the breaking point with grief, Jaylen sank down against the hard-packed soil of the trench and wept as he held the black angel feathers against his wound. Even though Zeriel had been in excruciating pain for hours, he managed to tear out his feathers, get Jaylen out of his armor, then doctor his wound. That was a debt Jaylen knew he could never repay, even if he somehow did manage to survive this freezing night with what should have been a lethal injury. He let his tears flow freely as he slowly began humming the paladin dirge, just like Zeriel used to do for him.
Before he finished humming the first verse, a pale white light caught his attention in the corner of his eye. At first, he didn't think much of it. But when it continued to grow in intensity, Jaylen looked over towards it. It danced over Zeriel's body in a glittering haze. He watched it for a few minutes as it flowed down the angel's battered corpse until it all culminated in a single ball then entered Zeriel's chest. Jaylen watched in awe as something began to change. A pure white energy began traveling down the angel's ragged wings where only a few black feathers remained. As it spread across them, the feathers began to brighten and regrow. One by one, pure white immaculate feathers were left in their place until Zeriel's wings were full with soft white feathers, even more beautiful and grand than the ones he used to have before he was Fallen.
Then Jaylen whispered a prayer to Sola as he saw what he never thought he would see again.
Zeriel took a breath.
Delivered
Angel of Darkness
Book Ten
Delivered
Copyright © 2015 by Mackenzie Morris
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Forty-One Years Earlier
Jaycob picked up the pewter bowl then stirred the mixture of blueberries, vampire crystals, raven feathers, mustard seeds, and his own blood. He took special care to crush the ingredients just as the ancient Ka'taylin scroll dictated. If he did it right, the demon should be a powerful one, but not so powerful that he would be in immediate danger. The most important part of this summoning was for the demon to not destroy his small shack. If that happened, the slavers would most definitely punish Jaycob for it.
Once the purplish-brown mixture was reduced to a thick gritty paste, Jaycob went to the wall next to his bed then spread it in a circle across the weathered wooden boards. He set the bowl down and examined his work. This was it. As soon as he finished the ritual, there would be no turning back. He knew how evil demons could be, but he also knew that most of them were simply misunderstood by humans and angels. He had met plenty of Xair's demons during his time in Ka'tayl that were kind and benevolent. Jaycob pushed his red bangs out of his emerald eyes then reopened the painful cut on the palm of his left hand. Once the blood was pooling up in his palm, he dabbed his fingers in it generously. With a deep breath, he drew the Ka'taylin summoning rune in the middle of the circle made by the mixture.
Jaycob pulled his hand away almost immediately as a dark swirling shadow spread across the circle and a portal appeared in its place. Much to his surprise, a deathly pale hand tipped with pointed black claws emerged from the shadows. Seconds later, the rest of the medium-sized black-haired demon stepped through the portal. It worked.
The demon glanced around the room with his slanted orange eyes and licked his pink lips with his long purple tongue. He held up his hand, causing the sleeve of his loose blue shirt to slide down his arm, and snapped his fingers. The shadowy portal collapsed on itself and dissipated, leaving only the circle of the mixture and the bloody Ka'taylin rune in its place. The young-looking demon sniffed the air then raised an eyebrow curiously. "You summoned me?"
Jaycob fumbled in his mind for the right words to say until he settled on a simple question to start things off with. "Who are you?"
"A demon. You summoned me to make a contract. Now what is it you need, and what are you willing to pay for my services?"
"What is your name?"
"What?" The demon leaned against the wall and brushed a layer of dust off of his skintight leather leggings. "Why do you wish to know that?"
It was simple, really. "Because I'd like to know the name of the being I will be dealing with."
The demon's eyes sparked with intrigue. "You mean you know that I am more than just some mindless monster?"
"Of course! I don't care if you're a demon or not. You feel emotions just like any human would. You hurt and you cry. You feel joy and loneliness just like anyone else."
"I've never met a human who thought that way. My name is Dusty."
"Hi." Jaycob held out his hand to the demon. "I'm Jaycob Colif Tamerlayn-Sequarius of Destfort, but you can just call me Jaycob. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Dusty stepped across the broken glass and the scattered papers that were strewn around the small room. He constantly sniffed the air and clicked his tongue against his sharp fangs. "There is no food in here. Only bare necessities, not much in the way of amenities that most humans like to furnish their homes with. Why?" He then placed his clawed hands on Jaycob's shoulders and pushed him back against the wall. He sniffed him as well before pushing his hair out the way. "You are thin and tired-looking. Is that a ring in your ear? Oh, I understand now. You're a slave, are you not?"
Jaycob only stared at the demon.
"So, slave Jaycob, what did you summon me for? What are you trying to achieve here? Revenge on the slavers who whip you? For me to steal a hot meal for you? Or a quick pickpocket job to get the key to the fence around this compound? Do you want to escape?"
"Oh . . . no, nothing like
that."
"Then what could a slave possibly want with a demon?" Dusty asked, letting the bard go.
"What kind of payment do you require? As you can see, I don't exactly have much at all."
Dusty shrugged his shoulders. "Usually coins, angel feathers, or things like that. Anything of value, really."
"Oh. I don't have any of that. You're not an incubus, are you? See . . . I'm just like all the other male slaves here. I've been magically castrated and I don't like to even think about all that anymore. I can't pay you that way. It's just-"
Dusty held up his hand to stop him. "You have nothing to worry about in that respect. I am not an incubus. I'm a reaper."
"A reaper?"
"Of souls. Children's souls to be exact. I watch over the dying children whose souls haven't had the chance to mature all the way. They are usually under the age of six when they die and I have the task of stealing their soul away before it can go to Purgatory. Only full souls can be given to angels, you know? I take those young delicate souls down to Hell and nurture them through stories, affection, and love until they mature and I divide the soul segments among the other reapers."
"That sounds awful."
"It is awful, but necessary." Dusty smiled and his voice softened as he stared off into the distance, obviously lost in his thoughts. "I love the part where I nurture the tiny souls and watch them grow every day. They start out like seedlings, begging for any nutrients they can get. Then as I care for them, I watch them grow and blossom into what that child could have been as an adult. So many could have gone on to do great things. The hardest part is when I find a new target and I'm forced to follow them around in secret for months as they go from being a playful child with all the joy in the world to being bedridden and wasting away. Those long-term declines are the worst ones. It's so much easier when it's an accident or a quick death. That way I don't get attached to them as easily. I hate seeing death, even though it's my purpose." Dusty stopped and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. I lost track of why I'm telling you this. Oh, yes. So, I am not an incubus."
Jaycob sensed something different in this demon, something almost human. But the truth was the truth. "I see. I'm sorry for wasting your time. I don't have anything to pay you with."
"But you do have a universal currency that any demon would make a deal for. I can always take part of your soul. After you die, of course."
"My soul?" Jaycob asked, knowing full well what the demon would want. But it was still surprising to hear it in person. "Will it hurt?"
"Not in the slightest. After you die, your soul will either be eaten by angels or demons anyway. Why not make use of it while you're alive? It's no different. But before we iron out those details, why don't you tell me what you want from me first?"
"I want you to stay with me. I want you to be my friend and never leave my side. I want to be your Ata-Lin."
The demon raised an eyebrow as he slowly circled around Jaycob and studied him closely. "You are no Ka'taylin. How do you even know what that means?"
"I spent time in Ka'tayl before it was destroyed."
"You're quite young for that."
He locked eyes with the demon, but felt no hatred or evil there. "Not really. I just look young. I had an immortality spell casted on me nearly a thousand years ago."
"Oh? How interesting. So is this immortality like the Ka'taylins and Holy Angels have? Eternal life as long as you don't take too much damage?"
"Aye. At least, that's what it was supposed to be."
"Then how can I know I'm going to get my payment?" Dusty asked. "If you never die, how will I get your soul?"
"You can take it whenever you think I've lived long enough."
"What an interesting proposal from a human. You know, I have never met a human like you, Jaycob."
Jaycob offered a smile. "And I've never met a demon like you, Dusty."
"You know what? This is crazy, but I've grown weary of my job as a reaper anyway. So what the hell. I'll do it. I'll be your demon and yours alone until I decide to take your soul."
"Really? You'll do this for me?"
Dusty laughed dryly. "You truly do want this, don't you? Is being alone this painful for you that you would give up your soul, which could get you practically anything from a demon, in exchange for some company?"
Jaycob nodded his head as his eyes brimmed with tears.
Dusty smiled as he reached out to touch Jaycob's shoulder then bowed to him. "Very well. My friendship for an indeterminate amount of time in exchange for your soul. I accept the terms of our contract."
* * *
Seven Years Later
Jaycob was sound asleep in his straw bed in the shoddy shed in the slave camp he called home when he rolled over onto his back. He was then awakened to a warm wet tongue being dragged up the side of his face. He grimaced then opened his eyes to see the demon straddling him. "Ugh, nasty. Why are you licking me? Get off me, you crazy demon!"
Dusty giggled as he fell backwards onto the floor, pulling the blankets with him. He then covered his eyes with his hands. "Oh, gross. Put some clothes on. There's nothing worse than a naked human."
"Where are my pants? You stole my pants from me while I slept? That's a new low for you, isn't it?" Jaycob threw his pillow at him then found his pants on the floor where Dusty always slept and slipped them on. "There. Happy?"
"Just mentally scarred for all of eternity, but I'll live."
"Oh, come on. You used to live in Hell. I'm sure you've seen some stuff down there."
"That doesn't mean I want to see more of it." Dusty patted Jaycob's shoulder. "Now get up. Don't you have a performance today?"
"Nope. It's my day off."
"Oh really?" Dusty asked as a mischievous grin spread across his face, causing the tips of his white fangs to show in the gap between his lips. "You know what that means, Jaycob."
"Whatever it is you're planning, I cannot be involved with it. You know what happened the last time I went along with one of your plans."
"You got twenty lashes and half rations for a month."
"Exactly."
"But I took care of your wounds and stole extra food for you."
Jaycob glared at the demon.
"It will be okay, I promise. Please just listen to my plans. Please!" Dusty pouted his lips and batted his eyelashes.
"You look pathetic."
"That's the point."
Jaycob sighed as he slipped his baggy tunic over his head to cover the large scar across his chest and back. "There's no way I can win this, is there?"
Dusty jumped onto the bed then took Jaycob's face in his hands. He smooshed the bard's cheeks as he smiled at him. "Nope. You look silly right now."
"Let me go." Jaycob muttered.
"Only if you listen to my plans, Mr. Smooshy Face."
Jaycob pried the demon's fingers away from his cheeks then rubbed the pink marks left behind. "Why are you being more annoying than usual? Is it my birthday and I forgot?"
"Nope."
"Then why?"
"Because you've been so boring lately. All you do is obey those slavers' orders and perform like they want you to for them. Just because you're a slave doesn't mean that we can never have fun. Just give me one day to play around and then I swear I'll be quiet and stop licking your face in your sleep."
"You've done this more than once?" Jaycob asked, grimacing at the thought.
"Every night."
Jaycob groaned as he wiped his face on his blanket. "Why?"
"You taste good. Come on, come on! Get up and get your boots on. We're going swimming."
* * *
The mid-morning sunlight danced on the surface of the murky pond where frogs jumped from floating logs and yellow-striped snapping turtles rested on the banks. Cattails grew around the edges where tadpoles swarmed around the stalks. A white heron flew into the sky as the two men stripped their clothes off and jumped into the water, disrupting any peace the creatures had been enjoying.
Jay
cob floated on his back to watch the clouds overhead and clear his mind. The water was cool and refreshing. The sun warmed his skin that had grown too pale from being inside most of the time when he wasn't performing or doing the various household tasks that the wealthy slavers asked of him. Minutes passed in harmony and relaxation until Jaycob became aware of a sound. It was more the lack of sound that disturbed him. Dusty was never this quiet.
All of a sudden, the demon swam up under Jaycob and pinched him hard, causing him to cry out. Before he could retaliate, Dusty overpowered him and pushed his head under the water. Dusty dove below the surface then grabbed onto Jaycob's legs and pulled him down with him. Choking and spitting out water, Jaycob reached the surface and kicked the demon away. "Stay back, you!"
Jaycob spun around, but he could not find Dusty anywhere. The ripples quieted down and the pond became as slick as glass. A minute passed before tiny bubbles popped on the surface of the water to Jaycob's left, but he was too slow to react. Dusty jumped out of the water to tackle Jaycob and they wrestled in the dark water, splashing and nearly drowning each other.
Jaycob was the first to give up. He swam away until he reached the shallow water filled with lily pads and crawled onto the muddy shore, still laughing and coughing. "Okay! Enough, enough. I surrender. You win."
Dusty joined him and dressed. He brought Jaycob his clothes and sat beside him in the bright green grass of late spring. He fell backwards and stretched out his arms as he took a deep breath. "Isn't the sky so pretty today?"
"Yeah."
"Makes me wish we could leave this place and just run. We'd run out past the forests and through the wheat fields then find a nice place near the beach where we could build our own home. We could be free."
Jaycob curled up next to his demon with his head on Dusty's chest to feel him breathing. "Technically, you are free, Dusty. If you hate being here with me, you could leave anytime you wanted. No one knows you're here. You can just hide yourself in your shadows like you do around the slavers so they don't see you. You could walk right out the front gate."
Angel of Darkness Books 6-10 Page 53