Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3

Home > Young Adult > Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3 > Page 31
Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3 Page 31

by Azure Boone


  Kassern rolled his eyes. "Whatever makes you happy. Just say out of my way."

  Jessie nodded and went back to work. "Likewise."

  Lucian felt a flash of pride for her. His Jessie was smart and strong and wouldn't let even a nasty-tempered archangel come between her and what she considered her duty.

  Ignoring the discussion, Devyn held Troy's hand. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "You should have worried about that before you decided to argue over petty bullshit right in the middle of a fucking battle! We could have all been killed!"

  His voice boomed and Devyn stared at him, eyes flashing before lowering in guilt. "It wasn't petty, he was treating me like…"

  Kassern sighed and stood, turning away from her.

  Troy sat up, looking good as new and Devyn flew into his arms and kissed him.

  Kassern growled, then groaned, like he was suddenly released from an immense pressure. "We have to move and I don't think I can do it. That means you two need to go in the damn bathroom and give me back my strength!"

  The order was yelled and Kassern sat down on the bed, a long growl purring out of him. The second Karly sat next to him, he put his arm around her and slowly leaned his head on her shoulder, like he was exhausted.

  Kassern asked Lucian to gather up their belongings and in a few scant moments they were all piling into a brand new massive SUV. Lucian drove, following Kassern's directions while Troy slept and Jessie finished cleaning and dressing the last of Devyn's wounds.

  The chamber echoed with the sounds of another woman in mortal agony. That was the fifth girl. Every few hours Kharef came and took someone out of the chamber. When he brought them back, they were so satiated they didn't care what happened to them next.

  Each time he was in the chamber, he stopped by Sally's bed to remind her of his intentions. While he spoke with her, his massive erection twitched and leaked fluid, and despite her fear, the female in her was flattered. The helpless degradation moved through her body, arousing her despite her attempt to be repulsed.

  He stood beside her while the fifth woman labored with horrific sounds, none human. Belching and expelling noxious gases from the unholiness brewing in her body. "Soon, my darling, will be your turn. Only one more. And then I will show you pleasure such as you have never imagined." He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "I would never hurt you as your father did, so you need have no fear." He boldly licked her index finger and drew the tip into his mouth to scrape his teeth gently over the sensitive pad, sending a torpedo of heat straight to her belly.

  She was sober enough to know that her reaction to him wasn't her doing. She held on to that with her mind, hoping it would keep her alive longer. But why did he keep bringing up what her father had done to her? How did he know about it? She'd never told another living soul. "Why me?" She hated the clichéd question, feeling like one of those women in a soap opera or something.

  He laughed, the sound as golden as his eyes. "Because of your unique vulnerabilities." He stroked her cheek. "And now, my darling, I must see to my next consort. The sooner I finish with my duties to her, the sooner I can claim you and wipe all memory of the filthy angel from your mind and body." He strolled away.

  Angel? What angel? Even as she thought the question, an impression of haunting brilliant blue eyes and strong arms around her surfaced from the murky depths of her memory. The same eyes she'd seen repeatedly in dreams. But surely that wasn't anything real?

  But she didn't have time to wonder. A freight train named Kharef was bearing down on her, so close the ground shook, and she still didn't have a clue how to sidestep it.

  The little chats with Kharef seemed to have one benefit. Each time he spoke to her, more of the drug's effects wore off. No attempt had been made to drug her again, no food or drinks, no medications, exams, or anything. She became stronger and more alert with every visit and had no difficulty staying awake. The other women remained oblivious in sleep until Kharef came and woke them.

  Whenever any of the nuns were in the room, Sally was careful to remain still. If they'd paid attention they would have noticed slight changes in her position. God what was happening? Please help me out of here, I'm so scared.

  Having wracked her brain for some idea to gain an advantage, she decided to simply walk out when the nuns were all gone. The fifth woman still had a little time before they moved her again to some place where the screams grew horrific.

  But if she did this, it could be her last opportunity. She didn't let herself think of what they would do if she got caught trying to escape. But surely it couldn't be worse than what was happening. A deep breath later, she flung the blanket back and sat up. Icy air touched bare skin and she hissed in discomfort. She bit her lip and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  Bone-breaking cold stabbed into her feet from the stone floor. She pushed through the initial pain and stood. Dragging the blanket off her bed, she slung it around her shoulders to ward off some of the cold. If she could get to that cloakroom where they had the coveralls and boots, maybe she'd have a chance of getting off the mountain. Or at least out of Kharef's path. God please help me, please.

  The blanket clutched tightly around her, she started toward the door. A half-dozen steps away from the bed the cold leached into her legs, the soles of her feet already numb.

  She expected to find the heavy wood door at the end of the chamber locked. She shuddered in relief to find it opened quite easily. Watching carefully, she slipped into the small chamber ahead. An oil lamp hung on the wall just ahead and provided a little light, so she let the door close behind her.

  A quick search yielded a small linen closet that held nothing immediately useful. Sally started to close the door when the light briefly landed on something dark on a lower shelf. Bending to look more closely, she found heavy black wool. Eagerly pulling the bundle out, she unfurled a heavy wool cloak, and just behind it, a pair of rubber boots.

  Oh thank you God, thank you thank you! Desperation drove her as she pulled on the boots and shook out the cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. The boots were small, but she could deal with them. She headed for the next door, hope fueling her.

  Frost covered the massive latch of the next door and touching it more than briefly was painful. Sally used an edge of her cloak to protect her skin and finally managed to release the latch. The big door finally budged under her grunting persuasion and once it did, its own weight in addition to the blast of hurricane frigid air had her holding onto it to keep it from banging against the stone wall.

  The arctic wind ripped the breath from her lungs and drove little ice spears into her skin in a blur of pain.

  With her limbs trembling violently she barely managed to rearrange the cloak, shielding her face as she peered into a dense wall of black night. She took a step only to be driven back two steps by a blast of wind.

  She caught her breath, covered her face more securely, and tried again. She made out a pinpoint of light in the distance but the deeper black to the right could have been forested mountainside. Or a bottomless cliff.

  No way could she walk out that door without seeing where her feet would go. She needed light. She raced back down the hall and stood on tiptoe to lift an oil lamp from its hook on the wall.

  Back to the door, Sally braced against the wind again and stepped forward, extending the lamp ahead.

  The horrific cold absorbed the light, the lamp and her arm. She stared for a few seconds, disconcerted to feel the weight of the lamp and the cold rapidly sinking into her skin while unable to see beyond the wall of ink.

  The wind whipped with renewed fury, forcing her to draw her arm back and scoot behind the door again.

  She took a breath, shivering until her jaws ached from the clatter of her teeth. Escape this way was out. God help me, please. Worried they'd figure out the door was open she took a deep breath and leaned into it, braced her feet and put a monumental effort into battling the wind. Fi
nally she managed it and shoved the latch home. She sagged back against the door, her trembling gaining momentum.

  Now what? Return and try to make it look as if she'd never left her bed? Hide? Search for another way out? All her efforts would be wasted if she went back to her bed. She needed a weapon whatever she did.

  Certain her time was running out, she franticly searched the linen closet once more. Nothing. A box of spare linens, lots of cobwebs and a worn-out broom. She hefted the broom experimentally, wishing it had a sharp end. She thought quickly then shoved the broom end under the linen closet door. Grabbing the end of the handle in both hands, she pulled up. The slow crackling of splintering wood filled the dead silence then gave way to a sharp thwack as the handle broke.

  Frozen, she listened for scuttling feet. When none came, she inspected her five-foot long spear with its jagged point.

  The outer door leading to the blizzard rattled, and Sally jerked in a breath and stared at it. When it appeared like somebody might come through the thing despite its interior latch, she ran into the corner behind it and flattened herself against the wall, makeshift weapon ready. Her heart banged against her ribs as the door swung in effortlessly with no hint of the icy hurricane-force wind Sally had encountered only moments before. A shadow, impossible given the darkness outside, preceded a bare foot around the door.

  With a whooosh of sound, the entire body attached to the foot stood before her. Golden light illuminated the nude skin, emphasizing the perfection. "My darling." Kharef's beautiful smile threatened to ease the panic surging through her. "So eager to be with me."

  Sally tried not to flinch when he reached to touch her. She really did.

  His smile slipped for a millisecond as his hand dropped to his side, but came back stronger than ever. "Or is it something else? Surely you don't fear me, my darling?" He shook his head as if unable to conceive such a thing. "No. Impossible. No one fears me."

  Her sweaty hand slipped a little on the broom handle, reminding her of its presence. Whipping it up, she lunged, aiming the broken end at his upper abdomen.

  He didn't even brace for the blow. Just absorbed it. Let the spear penetrate his flesh, just at the juncture of his ribs.

  Sally's hands slid on the blood running down the wood. Finally she screamed as the horror of what she'd done, and what was happening to her slammed into her psyche.

  She collapsed to her knees. Kharef didn't immediately slump to the floor and when her broom handle clattered to the ground at her side, she tipped her head back. She didn't want to look.

  He stood there, still smiling, with golden light pouring from the wound in his belly. "You disappoint me, my darling. I had hoped to consummate our union with pleasure, rather than pain." A rolling shrug flexed the muscles of his chest. "But since you insist, I'll oblige." His hand flashed forward and grasped her throat.

  Painfully accurate pressure just under her jaw bones drew Sally upright. A scream hovered in the back of her throat. The truth shone from Kharef's eyes. He wanted her fear and horror. Needed it.

  "I knew the Sisters had underestimated you. You, my darling, are destined to be no mere consort." His other hand flipped the cloak off her head and shoulders. "No. You shall be my queen, the Mistress of Hell."

  The scream broke away from her control as she saw the reality of her fate depicted in his golden eyes. Her vocal chords shredded and still she screamed. When her lungs squeezed in on themselves, the world went dark as her scream died away.

  Twin points of vivid, clear blue illuminated the absence of light, and a sense of calm and peace washed over her. "Help me." Her whisper echoed in the emptiness.

  Dorn made another pass over the shields he and Kassern had erected around the motel they'd holed up in with Kassern's humans. The ruby archangel's lack of discipline showed clearly in the need for the shields. If Troy and Devyn were Dorn's, they certainly wouldn't place the group at constant risk with their endless spats.

  He paid extra careful attention to the mesh closest to the constantly feuding couple's room and tried to capture the growing uneasiness distracting him. There! Nearly invisible among the tightly woven threads of power, a silvery strand of Reflection had frayed and slipped from the weft. Such a tiny flaw would normally go unnoticed, but they couldn't afford to take the chance considering what was at stake.

  The repair finished, Dorn stepped back to look for more imperfections. A thin red thread of Defensive Shielding looked a little odd and he moved in for a closer look. A bolt of intense fear and horror struck his chest, staggering him.

  What in the Fourth Universe? He'd experienced apprehension and mild fear in battle before, and sympathetic horror at the travesties the Enemy perpetrated. This was billions of orders of magnitude beyond any emotion he'd ever experienced.

  Fighting for balance, both physical and mental, he quickly touched the mind of each team member. All accounted for and safe.

  SALLY!

  Zeroing in on Sally's muffled psychic energy, he shot toward it, touching base with Kassern as he did. She was unconscious! Something had gone wrong and it was his fault for not continually monitoring her.

  Dorn scanned Sally's surroundings and more alarm jolted him at what he found. Several hundred insects, unrecognizable as any insect species endemic to Earth. And how was the lower-level demon able to stand on the consecrated ground of the convent? Finding an upper-level one was the real shock.

  Dorn resumed corporeal form but remained cloaked from view. In the next room, Sally's heart beat strongly in his ears. The large chamber where he had materialized held a dozen beds, each occupied by an unconscious human female, except for the two that sat empty. Sally's scent emanated from one, so she'd been there until recently.

  He allowed himself to dissolve into water droplets, taking on one of the properties of the gem Uriel had fashioned his armor and weaponry from. He hadn't been allowed to choose the gem and first resented that he'd been given aquamarine instead of something more in keeping with his stature. Diamond perhaps, or one of the precious stones. But over time he learned to appreciate, and even exploit, the special qualities of aquamarine.

  All that time, so many millennia, had been only practice for his current mission. In a swirl of water vapor, he allowed all his parts to disperse throughout the convent and grounds, gaining useful information. When he coalesced once more, he focused on the next room where Sally was starting to come around. The press of her fear returned.

  The demon's evil protected his name and intentions from being revealed by Dorn's Angelic Sight.

  The scar on Dorn's arm ached. He wouldn't underestimate an upper-level demon again. He flashed to Sally's side, arming himself with an aquamarine dagger with a wicked curved hook at the end of the blade, but remained invisible.

  Lying on the floor, Sally regained consciousness and opened her eyes, groaning. The demon hovered slightly above her in the form of a beautiful male human, nude and bathed in golden light.

  "My darling, I was concerned for you. Now, I bid you, rise and claim your Crown." He offered Sally a hand. "Look forward, not back. Realize your destiny with me. The angel is nothing."

  Angel? What could the demon know? And how?

  Sally cringed away, but the demon's eyes glowed with gold fire and her fear melted like ice under a bonfire. She rose with jerky movements, hesitant, as if battling a compulsion to stand.

  The demon took her hand and lifted her to her feet. "Show yourself, Angel. Witness as I claim my Queen."

  Dorn refused the bait, remaining cloaked.

  The demon, characteristic of his kind, searched for weakness to exploit. Dorn slammed his psychic doors shut in defense. "Far from being your Queen, demon. The woman is my Chosen. I have come to take possession."

  Sally looked around in confusion, the demon's trance at least partially broken. "Who's there?"

  Dorn wanted to scoop her up and whirl them away, but the demon would be ready for that. "Be at ease, Sally. I shall exp
lain all when you are safe."

  With no knowledge of the demon's capabilities, he chose full armor, a second skin of aquamarine that flowed about him, ready to repel any assault. His hooded cloak was formed from crushed aquamarine, a woven impenetrable fabric that kept his preferred weapons close at hand. A flick of his wrist uncoiled a twenty-foot long whip fashioned from his gem in chain form. He stood at ease, calculating his attack within an immeasurable fraction of a second.

  Ready, he dropped his shield and allowed the demon to see him. The pale blue whip swirled about him with silvery fire, both offensive and defensive.

  Grinning broadly, the demon cloaked himself in orange-red flames and conjured a flaming sword from thin air. "Taking your head will be a great coup for me. Many of my Brother Demons have fallen to your hand. The bounty for your skin is the highest ever set. I shall live very well indeed for the next several millennia." He brandished the sword in an attempt to intimidate. Dorn moved right, forcing the demon to turn in order to keep him in view. Clearly the demon knew exactly who Dorn was, but following protocol, he gave the slime his rank which required the demon to give his. "I am Dorn, leader of the Out Rider Patrol for seven millennia. Name yourself, demon, that I might properly report your demise." He gave his whip a little flip and allowed it to reach eagerly for his enemy.

  The demon feinted, getting the sword in closer. He grinned, supremely confident of his victory. "I am Kharef, Demon Over Lord. I have corrupted untold numbers of Innocents in all the Seven Universes."

  Dorn would never understand how their filth could count being a coward as some kind of accomplishment. Since Over Lord was an aristocratic position, often gained more through strategy and conniving than strength, it followed that Kharef might not be a great fighter, but Dorn was careful to avoid underestimating him.

  A quick thrust before Kharef stepped back a little. He ducked and grabbed Sally's arm to drag her against his chest.

 

‹ Prev