The Witch's Angel

by Arissa L. Utemark

  “He’s gone.” Theo whispered hollowly. “He’s gone and I didn’t…”

  “He knew you loved him.” Patrick comforted. “He said so.”

  “He died thinking that I thought…that he betrayed us.” Theo swallowed hard, trying to blink away tears. Patrick put his hand against Theo’s cheek, making him meet his eyes.

  “He knew you loved him.” Patrick breathed. “That’s why he saved all of us.”

  “I didn’t believe him. I didn’t…” Theo admitted quietly. “Danny was the only one that didn’t give up hope.”

  Patrick wrapped his arms around Theo and held him, sighing in comfort as the Prince relaxed against him, clutching his waist and laying his head on Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick felt Theo caress his wing gently, his fingers soft against the new feathers growing back over the now closed wound.

  “How do you feel?” Theo asked in a quiet voice, his cheek still against Patrick’s shoulder.

  “It will heal.” Patrick answered, his voice quietly confident.

  Theo’s soft hair brushed his skin as the Prince lifted his head, meeting his gaze with a sad vulnerability that made him want to wrap Theo up and shrink the world down to just the two of them. Protected, never to be harmed again.

  The General allowed himself the fantasy for a few brief moments, his husband warm and safe in his arms.

  “Today’s going to be hard.” Theo whispered.

  “It’s a day of celebration.” Patrick said.

  “It should have been.” Theo said quietly. Patrick pulled him in for a kiss, sweet and comforting.

  “It still can be.” Patrick answered. He reached over to the box and pulled out Theo’s crown before carefully arranging it on Theo’s hair, running his fingers through the strands to put them back into place. “The new day at the end of a long, terrible night.”

  The smile Theo gave him was shaky and fragile, but its presence filled Patrick with joy. He thought there could be nothing more beautiful.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Theo told him, touching the side of Patrick’s face. Patrick leaned into the touch unashamedly, savoring the contact between them, still sweet after all of these years together.

  “You’ll never have to know.”

  Chapter 42

  Luke walked brusquely into the Beacon, eager to take off his work suit jacket and stretch his wings, which were aching from being folded flat against his back all day. A few Witches and Angels going about their daily business tipped their heads at him respectfully and he nodded back with a tight smile, headed for the elevator.

  He wondered if he’d ever get used to it.

  A sigh of relief escaped his lips as the elevator doors closed and he pulled at his tie to loosen it, glad of the solitude as he leaned against the wall. It had been a hectic day at the precinct, the building buzzing after all of the attention on the Beacon and the attacks around town. He was glad to have Tracie there to help him to begin the process of smoothing the ordeal over without exposing the truth.

  A glance at his watch told him he had a little time to get ready for the ceremony. A fresh wave of butterflies flew around his stomach along with a terrifying reminder that he had no idea what he was doing.

  He took a deep sigh to help settle his nerves while still in the solitude of the elevator. The doors opened with a small chime, allowing him to step onto the top floor.

  Luke made his way to his and Danny’s living quarters. His apartment was now empty, his things moved into the Beacon a few weeks ago, after everything had calmed down a little. The changes that had happened in such a short amount of time made his head spin, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret any of it. It should have scared him to death, but he was hardly the same person as he was before he met Danny.

  Literally.

  The door to the Throne Room was open and he decided that a quick check of the Barrier couldn’t hurt, especially since he needed the practice.

  The walls of the room had been fully repaired, the murals painstakingly restored with enough skill that Luke could barely tell where the holes had been, the scars on the walls all but disappeared.

  A lone figure sat in the middle of the room.

  Danny perched on the ground, her legs pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them, her chin resting on top of her knees. She stared straight ahead and Luke followed her gaze to see what she was looking at.

  The two Thrones.

  She stared at them thoughtfully, trepidation in her eyes. Luke walked over to her and settled beside her, his legs stretched out in front of him, leaning his weight back on his hands. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he felt the need to be close to her. She subtly shuffled closer to his side as a way of greeting and he felt her presence relieve the day’s stresses.

  “How was work?” she asked, her voice casual.

  “Busy.” Luke answered. “The investigation about the pub is closed, the one at the diner will take a little longer.”

  “Because of Carl?” she whispered after a moment of silence.

  “Yeah.” Luke said. “I get assigned a new partner next week.”

  “Already?” Danny winced.

  “Gotta start moving on.” Luke answered.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Luke said.

  “Still.” Danny said, scooting still closer to him. Luke let his fingers graze the soft skin on the inside of her wrist.

  “What about things here?”

  “Knightmares are still loose, but we’re making a dent.” Danny answered.

  They sat in silence for a little. Luke found himself content to listen to Danny breathing, warm and alive next to him, feeling his heart fill.

  The crushing horror that had seized him when he dragged himself over to her after the Barrier had closed, seeing her laying broken and bleeding on the floor, would be a feeling that was going to haunt him forever. He’d never been more thankful for the ability to heal her, but even with that, he’d been terrified that he’d been too late.

  He remembered the feeling of her weak grip around his hand and the tears of relief that almost choked him, watching as her skin pieced itself back together, hardly noticing when his own injuries healed as well.

  “It’s tonight.” Danny intoned back in the present, pulling Luke out of his thoughts.

  “Are you ready?” Luke asked. She gave a sharp exhalation out of her nose.

  “Not even remotely.” She replied. Luke looked at the Thrones in front of them.

  “Me either.” He admitted.

  She glanced over at him a small smile playing across her lips, and then cast her gaze to the floor.

  “What is it?” Luke asked.

  “I need to…” Danny started. “I need to say something that I don’t really want to say.”

  “What do you need to say?”

  Danny seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, trying to find the right words.

  “I don’t…” Danny started, her eyebrows drawing together in frustration, before she took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “That’s lucky.” Luke answered. “Because I don’t want to go either.”

  “Shut up.” She told him good-naturedly. “I’m trying to say something here.” Luke fell silent and looked at her expectantly, turning to lean back on one of his hands, the other resting on his bent knee. She took another deep breath before she leveled her gaze at him.

  “I wish we could just be together. I wish I could say, ’Let’s fuck all this and leave, go live out in the mountains or some shit together forever.’ But I can’t.’” Danny explained, giving a sigh and reaching down to fiddle with the fingers of the hand Luke rested on the floor. “This is…huge and this is who I am and what I have to do and I don’t…I feel so selfish because I don’t want you to be anywhere but with me, but I…

  Danny braced herself and Luke waited patiently for her to continue, leaning toward her. She let her words out in a rush, wincing as if in pain.r />
  “…I need you to know you don’t have to stay.”

  “Danny…” Luke breathed.

  “Hang on a minute. Let me get this out.” Danny waved, leaning closer to him. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want you to stay so so much, but I can’t stand the thought of forcing you to do anything, even if it means I get to keep you. I can’t stand the thought of trapping you.”

  Her eyes were so open and hopeful, and Luke ached. He ached for what she meant to him, he ached to be with her forever, he ached for how much she had lost and was still somehow so caring.

  He felt more determined than ever to prove how much he loved her.

  Luke remembered Patrick’s words from when they were in the interrogation room, about what being Theo’s Angel felt like. He thought about what it meant to be Danny’s Angel, ever since her touch had given him wings. The touch that had made him fly.

  She had given him a place to land.

  He leaned forward and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to her. He felt complete, the oddly missing part of him a distant memory. They broke apart and she looked at him, her gorgeous green eyes wide with hope.

  “Well, there’s a flaw with your plan.” Luke began. “I hate the mountains.”

  He had to laugh at the deep sigh she let out.

  “Well, you’re gonna learn to like them after I drop-kick you into one.” Danny groused. Luke felt more laughter bubble out of him and pulled Danny closer, kissing her lips, nuzzling his nose into her cheek.

  “I don’t want to be anywhere but with you. However long you’ll have me. Forever.” He whispered against her skin. He felt her clutch his body against hers as she breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” She murmured, her breath warm against his throat.

  He tugged her closer and she gratefully climbed in between his legs, settling her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, savoring the way that she relaxed against him. He buried his nose in her hair and held her, the two of them staring at the Thrones together.

  Chapter 43

  I stood at the Queen’s Throne with Luke at my side.

  The ceremony wasn’t long, by any means. I had gotten dressed in a beautiful sleek plum gown that had been especially made for me, Luke in his expertly tailored tux.

  We walked through the crowd of Angels and Witches gathered in the Throne Room, standing on either side of an aisle marked by a long carpet from the door. The music was light and beautiful and we were surrounded by grandeur, the Throne Room immaculately decorated for the occasion. Rodney, of course, made sure the coronation went off without a hitch.

  It was a good thing nobody could read my queenly thoughts, which were as follows:

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I hoped it didn’t show on my face.

  I tried not to fidget when I had reached the end of the aisle and turned to face a crowd looking at me with expressions ranging from pity to pride. I didn’t see any outright disgust, but perhaps they were as good at hiding their inner thoughts as I was. Deep breaths helped me get myself together a bit. That, and the thought of how much of a shame it would be for the brand spanking new Queen to puke all over such a lovely dress.

  The doors opened again as the music switched to something with more fanfare. Theo and Patrick walked toward us, sharply dressed and polished. Patrick’s face was noble and dignified, Theo’s open and full of happiness. The General held the Angel’s Sword with reverent hands, the belt and scabbard already buckled around Luke’s hips. A pillow rested on top of Theo’s hands and on top of the pillow perched my mother’s crown.

  My crown.

  They made their way to the Throne and stepped up to us. Patrick presented the sword to Luke, who nodded before he took it reverently, sliding it into the scabbard hanging on his belt.

  Theo smiled as he presented the Queen’s crown to me. I clenched my fists for a moment to stop my hands from shaking before taking it carefully.

  The crown was simple, only slightly thicker than the circlets that Cale, Theo, and I had worn. The gold was formed into images of a forest and a sky, the front inlaid with a small emerald surrounded by two diamonds.

  I took a deep breath and looked up at Theo, who gave me a nod, smiling his pride.

  I placed the crown on my head.

  The crowd erupted into applause as Patrick and Theo stepped beside us to face everyone in attendance.

  I was Queen.

  Chapter 44

  The reception afterward was a quiet affair.

  I started to mingle, accepting congratulations as gracefully as I could manage as I tried to say hello to everyone, making my way through the room as music drifted on the air. I had switched up my queenly thoughts, which were as follows:

  Don’t be weird, you’re Queen now…Don’t be weird, you’re Queen now…Don’t be weird, you’re Queen now…

  Suddenly, a flash of red hair caught my eye. I found its owner and made my way over.

  “Majesty.” Talia greeted, averting her gaze from me. She had dressed formally in a forest green dress that flattered her beautiful silken hair and wings. I had left her alone since the Barrier, letting her lick her wounds in private. Her wing was still broken from where it had been crushed, wrapped tightly in a bandage against her back while the bones healed.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked her.

  She looked up at me with open surprise.

  “I, uh…” She stuttered, glancing over her shoulder at her injury then looking down at the floor. “It’s painful, but no more than I deserve.”

  “Did Theo look at it?”

  “Yes, he insisted on bandaging it himself.” She said softly, still not looking at me. “You’ve all been so kind to me.”

  “You’re family.” I answered her. She drew her eyebrows together like she was about to cry.

  “Danny…” she whispered, a soft plea in her voice that made my heart break.

  “I should have noticed something.” I admitted quietly. “It was a year. That thing was in him for a year and I should have noticed something was wrong.”

  Talia shook her head.

  “I was fooling myself, but my actions were my own.” Talia answered. “I should have been stronger.”

  She kept looking down at the floor, her eyebrows drawing together in shame. I pushed my knee-jerk frustration at her answers aside. I didn’t think shouting ‘Cut that shit out’ at her would be very queenly or nice at that moment.

  “If we keep blaming ourselves, we’ll never go forward.” I told her instead. Talia seemed to digest my words, finding something very interesting about my shoes.

  “Shouldn’t I be punished?” Talia asked in a rush, finally looking up at me. “Shouldn’t I be punished for what I did?”

  I saw the haunted pain in her eyes, the turmoil that she had to live with for the last year; the reality that she now faced. Her Witch was gone she hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye.

  None of us had gotten to say goodbye.

  “I think we’ve all had enough punishment.” I answered instead.

  Her face was shocked relief for a moment before she surged forward and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back, not really sure what to say.

  I should really get better at this kind of thing.

  “I want you to meet someone.” I said when Talia and I broke apart.

  “Who?” she asked.

  I turned and beckoned someone over after finding her easily in the crowd. She caught my eye and smiled as she came over to me.

  “Quite a party you’re throwing here, Honey.” Grace told me when she made it over, dressed resplendently in a red gown, her hair a silvery-blond halo framing her face. “You know I just met someone who told me they set your office on fire a few years ago?”

  “I vaguely remember that.” I answered, carefully calm. Who the fuck invited that asshole?

  It had been su
rprisingly easy to tell Grace about my identity and what had happened after I tracked her down. After I’d finished clearing everything up, she simply nodded and pursed her lips.

  “I always knew the world was a lot bigger than I thought it was.” She had said, looking up at me knowingly.

  I must say, I think I’m in love.

  She’d been invaluable counseling the victims of the Ancient Scream’s attack, myself included. I think I will be turning to her for advice quite a lot in the near future.

  “Grace, this is my sister-in-law: Talia.” I introduced them. “Talia, this amazing lady is Grace. She helped me a lot.”

  “Hello, ma’am.” Talia greeted respectfully.

  “Call me Grace, Honey.” Grace smiled widely at Talia and I saw the Angel relax.

  I knew the feeling.

  I waited until they were engrossed in conversation before wandering away.

  There had been a lot of progress rebuilding everything in the last few weeks. Even the places where the knightmares attacked around town were well on their way to opening for business once again.

  And if those establishments received a generous donation for rebuilding from a mysterious, fried pickle-loving benefactor…

  …Well, then that was a fried pickle-loving benefactor’s business.

  I wondered through the guests until I found myself standing in front of the portraits.

  Along one wall, there were portraits of all the people that had been lost during the Ancient Scream’s attack. Carl’s police portrait was among them, as well as a picture of Marcus’ smiling face. My eyes lingered on Cale’s regal portrait, his confident gaze looking down on me from the paint.

  My mother’s was right next to his, wreathed in flowers, a few memorial tokens laid on the ground in front of it. To add insult to gaping gut wound, we weren’t able to find what the Scream had done with her body. I don’t know why that made everything so much worse, but it did.

  I almost couldn’t stand to look up at her, twice the Queen that I would ever be, three times the Witch that I would ever be. It hurt to think of her, hurt to know she wasn’t there anymore, hurt to miss her.

  I suppose even gaping wounds turned to scars eventually, but there was no way I could imagine feeling anything other than bloody and raw right then.