Asa

by Alisa Woods

  Concern was written across his face. “I only have a moment. We’re in the middle of—” He caught sight of Asa. “Ah. You are well, I see.”

  “I’ll survive.”

  Tajael turned back to Razael. “Tell me there are no further troubles than those I already know.”

  “Asa believes we should move against Elyon using the humans’ weapon,” Razael said.

  “Weapon?” Tajael’s face was comically puzzled. “The humans are doing science. Exploration. They have no weapon.”

  Asa rolled his eyes. Light angelings—they could be so naïve. Tajael had more experience than most, including a tour through Elyon’s Regiment when he was on walkabout, but he was no different than the rest.

  “The machine is a weapon,” Asa replied, tersely. “Obviously. And we should use it against Elyon to end this.”

  Tajael threw him a narrow-eyed look. “You mean transport something into his Regiment.”

  Asa tried not to be too insulting with his expression.

  Tajael scowled. “The humans will never agree to that.” He turned back to Razael. “You may not believe their innocent intent, but they certainly do.”

  “Then find different humans,” Razael said, coolly. “Or do it yourself.”

  Tajael stepped back. “I cannot and will not.”

  Asa strode forward, hand on his blade. “Save your precious moralizing for the human you are fucking,” he spat. “Elyon will end us all, light and dark, human and angeling alike—is that what you want?” Those in the light could be so blinded by Sin, in ways they couldn’t even conceive—at least Asa knew his Sin of Wrath drove him. It may have broken his soul, but he damn well knew how to control it now. Angelings of the light lived in fear of Sin, but they actually knew nothing of it.

  Tajael glared at him. “If you turn on the humans, our partnership is done. And fractured, we have no hope against Elyon’s forces. Is that what you want?”

  He wanted to slash Tajael with his newly-blessed shadow blade—

  “Tajael is right,” Razael said.

  Asa turned a look of disbelief to him. “My lord—”

  Razael held up a hand. “Only in that the humans will not agree to this.” He used the raised hand to gesture to Tajael. “Their scientists are in love with light angels, Asa. What do you expect?”

  Asa groaned his frustration and stepped back from his too-close confrontation with Tajael.

  “What about Micah?” Tajael said, bringing back some of the coolness to his voice. “I thought you were trying to turn him.”

  “How exactly are we supposed to do that? Pop in and ask for an appointment with Elyon’s son?” Asa’s question was rhetorical, but Tajael stroked his chin as if seriously contemplating that suggestion.

  Asa just shook his head and faced Razael. “The Winter Court is allied with him. If they’re pressing their fae warriors into service, that could swell Elyon’s numbers—”

  “Wait,” Tajael said, raising his hand and cutting him off.

  Asa glared at him but waited.

  Tajael shook a finger at Asa, but he spoke to Razael. “The Winter Court is taking action. Which means the Summer Court must be alarmed. If not, they should be. Perhaps we can persuade them to enter the fray. Balance the forces, at least for a moment. Until we find a way to infiltrate Elyon’s stronghold, turn his son, and lure Elyon into some kind of trap that could actually destroy him. Or at least destroy his will to prosecute this unholy war.”

  Asa’s eyebrows lifted. The light boy almost sounded shadow. “You have some sway with the Summer Court?”

  Tajael smiled. “As it turns out… yes.”

  Razael was nodding. “Go. See what you can arrange. And report back.”

  Tajael gave a sharp nod then twisted and was gone.

  “In what manner is a light angeling acquainted with the Summer Court?” Asa couldn’t tell if his light-headedness was returning or the world was simply not making sense.

  “Rumor is he’s been in the Summer Queen’s bed.” Razael chuckled.

  Asa pulled a face. “That’s disgusting.” Angel and fae might ally out of necessity—or evil intent and common interest, in the case of the Winter Court and Elyon—but the blood feud between their species went back many millennium. And they certainly didn’t fuck each other.

  Razael snorted an even louder laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t sign up to bang a fae, either, but who am I to lecture the lightkind on their personal habits?”

  It was still disgusting. Asa snarled then spat out the bitter taste in his mouth.

  “But you, my friend, need rest.” Razael rose from his throne. “By the time Tajael returns, I need you in top form.”

  That he couldn’t disagree with. “Summon me as soon as you have word.” Then he gave a short bow and strode from the room. Razael’s blessing still enlivened his body and transported him through the orgy-filled halls to the blessed seclusion of his cell, but he was truly in desperate need of rest—he needed to fully recover from his brush with death. With tremendous and sudden fatigue, he slumped onto his thin mat and let sleep take him.

  Chapter Four

  Two forks, a dull-edged knife, and three spoons.

  It was all Molly could pinch from the last day’s worth of meals without making the guy who brought their food suspicious. Although she might have gotten away with more—the black-winged hotties who brought them stuff rotated a lot and paid little attention. Some were super bored and vaguely resentful, although Molly couldn’t figure why—she was the one being held prisoner. Some looked at her like she was the ham and cheese sandwich. Most just shoved the trays over the threshold and collected them later, barely staying long enough for Molly to notice.

  The kids never ate.

  Well, never was an exaggeration. The babies had a bottle once a day—that came with lunch. A crate of something was floated in once a week for the kids. They fought over it, but not like they were starving—more like the paper bags were prizes that had to be won by being the fastest or most brutal. Molly worried that Betsy, the little three-year-old she’d watched a few times, would get aced out, but she always flew off with a bag of her own first. Maybe one of the older ones let her have it.

  Maybe it was Ariel.

  Molly drifted with her utensil booty away from the area clearly defined as “Mom and Baby Land” by some unspoken agreement that divided the cavernous nursery into halves—not equal halves, mind you, as the kids took up most of the space. Molly was casually walking, super slow and lazy-like as if she just happened to be wandering into the territory where the kids’ cots were laid out in neat rows. It was a good barrier, seeing how the kids rarely slept, just like they rarely ate. Right now, they were engaged in another of the endless games they liked to play, which made it a good time to meet up with Ariel without too many noticing—if Molly could catch her eye.

  The kids were grouping up in pairs and threes and fours, and they seemed to be sparring. They made full use of the space, soaring up on their little black wings to the murky top of the cavern then swooping back down to dive bomb some kid from behind. Some had blades, but most just fought with their fists and feet. It wasn’t an all-out melee—Molly had seen those, when the fragile hierarchy of the group, whatever it was, seemed to break down altogether, and the whole thing turned into a kid-sized riot. This sparring thing was different—almost like a dance, although a pretty violent one. Lots had bloody faces, and a couple were sitting out, holding their arms or ankles, faces scrunched in pain.

  Crazy.

  The ones in motion moved so fast it was hard to track. Molly took a seat on the farthest-out cot and watched until she spotted Ariel. She was fierce and fast and took down one challenger after another. Molly held up the spoons by her face and waited patiently—eventually, Ariel spotted her. She knocked the boy coming after her straight down to the floor then glided away toward Molly. Another boy seemed inclined to chase after her, but then he circled back to the fray. Ariel floated on unseen air currents—or maybe magic
? Do demons have magic? It didn’t seem right to think of them as “demons”—they were just kids—even though Molly didn’t know what else they could be. Whatever force Ariel was using, it landed her lightly on bare feet next to the cot.

  “Hey,” Molly said like this was something they did all the time, rather than just the second time they’d spoken. The first was pretty short, too—just a retelling of The Little Mermaid, and then Ariel had gotten skittish and took off. But if this would work, Molly needed the girl to think they were cool, just friends, hanging out. As far as she could tell, that was a foreign concept.

  “You brought spoons?” Ariel asked.

  Direct and simple. Okay, then. Molly held out all six utensils. “You said you could make me a weapon.”

  The girl smirked but took the flatware and climbed onto the cot. “Who’re you going to fight?” She seemed to think this was very funny.

  “Self-defense only.” Molly bit her lip, not sure what was smart to say, what she should leave out.

  Ariel gave her a look like she was crazy. “You know this is useless against an angeling, right?” But she started arranging the spoons and forks around the knife.

  “Angeling?” So that’s what they were? Molly’s eyes went wide. Because… what? Since when did angels have black wings?

  Ariel squinted at her. “You don’t know much, do you?”

  No! But Molly kept it cool—because information was something she needed a lot more than a knife. “You know, I really don’t. I’m just a human, remember?”

  Ariel nodded like this made sense to her. Then she focused on her handiwork with the utensils, bending the metal forks and spoons around the central spear of the knife. The girl was unnaturally strong—Molly had seen the kids toss around stuff that was way too heavy for that, but it was still surprising to see up close. It was almost lovely, artistic, how Ariel twisted and wound the pieces together into a thing with a handle and a blade.

  “This isn’t very sharp,” she said, holding it up in the dim light.

  “That’s okay.”

  Ariel scowled. “You need a sharp knife.” She swept aside the short skirt of her black toga, revealing a knife strapped to her thigh. Then she snatched it out of its sheath and stabbed it into the cot next to Molly’s hand.

  She yanked back, but Ariel didn’t seem to notice. She just set about sliding Molly’s newly fashioned knife down the sharp edge of the blade. Tiny shavings fell as she worked the surface, focused as if both their lives depended on getting it just right.

  While she sawed away at the blade, Ariel asked quietly, “You don’t want to be here?”

  Molly’s heart leaped. “No.”

  Ariel didn’t look at her, still intent on the blade. “You came from outside?”

  “Yes.” A heartbeat. Then two. “Have you ever been outside?”

  The girl’s hand slipped a little. “No.” She changed her grip and kept sawing.

  Molly could have guessed the kids had never left the nursery—she’d been here for months, Eden was the only one who left. And she always came back worse for it. Molly couldn’t imagine growing up in this place. Never seeing the sun or blue sky? Never running in a field or going out for ice cream? Not to mention all the Lord of the Flies violence and brutality. It seemed a horrible way to grow up.

  Then again, the girl wasn’t human.

  Angeling. Fallen angels, she supposed. Hence the black wings. The grown-up angelings definitely ventured into the human world—that was how the Hot Guy From Starbucks seduced her. (He said his name was Tom, but she doubted that was true.) It wasn’t like you could raise an angeling kid in the real world—the human world—but they had to learn about it eventually.

  “Do you want to know about it?” Molly asked. “The outside, I mean?”

  The girl lifted one shoulder to shrug then dipped her head to work the blade harder.

  Molly pressed her lips tight, not sure if it was smart to say anything more.

  After a moment, Ariel asked softly, “Are there mermaids?”

  “No.” Although, she didn’t think there were angels and demons before she came here. “That’s just a story.”

  Ariel nodded like somehow that’s what she expected. She finished the blade, swiped away the shavings, and sheathed her own makeshift weapon. Then she handed the gleaming-sharp new knife to Molly. “Who do you want to kill?”

  “What?” Molly frowned. “No one.”

  Ariel looked skeptical and gestured to her belly. “What about the one who did this?”

  “I… um…” Molly swallowed, but this girl already knew more than she did about such things. And Ariel knew more about this place as well. “He didn’t force me. I chose to be with him. Although, to be honest, I didn’t know all this was part of the deal.” She lifted her knife and waved it at the nursery around them. “I had another life, Ariel. I mean, it wasn’t always a great one, but it was mine.”

  Ariel’s blue eyes were locked on her now. “You would go back? If you could.”

  “Yes.” Molly flicked a look across the nursery to where Ren was flopped on one of the cots, missing Micah already. “And my friends, too.”

  “Would you take me?” Ariel’s eyes had gone wide, which made her look suddenly young—much younger than the brutal maturity the nursery had force her into.

  Molly grimaced. How could she? She didn’t even know how to get herself out. “I…”

  Some of the light went out of Ariel’s eyes.

  “I’d try,” Molly blurted out. What was she saying? “I mean, I don’t know if you’d like it or not, but if you want to—”

  “I want to.” Her expression was suddenly fierce. “I want to… to see it. The ocean. Where the mermaids live.”

  Molly tried not to cringe.

  Then Ariel placed a hand on Molly’s arm and looked her solemnly in the eyes. “We’ll make a vow.”

  “A vow?” Molly’s voice squeaked.

  “I will take you to the outside,” Ariel intoned. “You will show me this ocean.”

  Molly’s heart was doing acrobatics in her chest. “You know how to get there?” Please, please, please…

  Ariel pursed her lips then glanced at the sparring kids—angelings. “Devon starts his Initiation tomorrow. Initiation lasts three days, then he makes his vows. In that time, his new Master will teach him the secrets of transport.”

  “Master?” Molly asked, vaguely horrified. But this “transport” thing sounded promising.

  “The one who teaches you things.” Ariel looked at her like she was stupid. Then she shrugged. “My own Initiation is not far away. I will ask Devon to show me how to transport before he makes his vows and leaves us.” She looked back to Molly and held her gaze. “I know what he wants. I will bargain with him.”

  Sex. She meant sex, and there was no way Molly could allow that to be her ticket out. “No. No, Ariel… just, no.”

  Ariel lifted her chin. “I’ll choose it.”

  “You’re too young for…” God, no.

  Ariel looked at her like she was crazy again. “I’ll be making my vows soon, anyway.”

  “I don’t… I don’t know what that means.” Molly swallowed. Good Lord in Heaven… what happens in the vow-making thing? There was no one over the age of thirteen in the nursery—this Initiation must be how they joined the adult angelings, wherever they were, flying around somewhere. Outside the nursery. Molly could only guess what that looked like—but it probably was Lord of the Flies, the grown-up version. “Ariel, look—I… I want to escape. Me and my friends both. I’ll take you with us, I promise. But I can’t have you… you can’t do this for me, okay?”

  Ariel just stared at her, puzzled. Slowly, she reached for Molly’s face, touching just her fingertips to Molly’s cheek. “I can see…”

  Molly pulled back. Was there something wrong with her face? “What?”

  Ariel removed her hand and frowned. “There is a thing inside you that shines. Like the babies.”

  What? “Promise m
e you won’t…” She felt she had to make this crystal clear. “You can’t have sex to get me free, okay?”

  Ariel’s brow wrinkled up. “Because it would take away the shine. Like the babies when they make their pledge.”

  “Yes… yes, it would take away my shine, and that’s… that’s painful, okay?” She was babbling now. She had no idea what this shine business was all about. “You just need to find another way to do this. To… what did you call it… transport?”

  Ariel nodded, thoughtfully this time. “I will see what I can do.”

  Molly sighed in relief. “Okay. Good. You let me know, all right?”

  Ariel took out her blade again… then she held up her palm to Molly and dragged the razor-sharp edge across it. Blood welled up in a crimson line.

  “Ariel!” For the love of—

  “What?” Ariel looked genuinely surprised. “We have to make our vow.”

  Molly literally choked on her own spit.

  “Give me your hand.” Ariel held out her bloody one.

  “I… I’m human, remember?” Oh God, what was this now?

  She smiled. “It’s all right, Molly.”

  That sweet smile somehow convinced her she couldn’t say no. Grimacing, she offered up her palm. Ariel made a quick slice with her knife before Molly could blink.

  “Yeow!” she said through gritted teeth.

  Ariel grinned and smashed her bloody palm against Molly’s.

  Oh, God. A blood oath with a demon—er, fallen angeling girl child—what in the world was she thinking?

  Ariel held her fast. “If outside is not to my liking,” she said casually, “I will return here. But you will be free. Free to… keep your shine.”

  The tears that had jumped to the back of Molly’s eyes with the blade cut were now receding… because the pain was gone. Ariel released her and wiped away the blood on her black toga. It hardly showed. Molly stared at her own hand, smearing away the residual blood on her palm—there was no sign of the cut.