by Dima Zales
Michael glared at her. “Enjoy it while it lasts, demon. It only makes Judgment Day that much sweeter when we wipe your wretched kind from this world.”
Mulciber chuckled—a malevolent sound that gave me the creeps even through the metal door. “Your kind is so confident about the end of this war. It won’t much matter if you win in the end. I promise you, archangel, that you will not leave this place alive.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”
She batted her eyelashes at him, lifting his chin with the curved part of the blade.
“Nonsense. I have faith in plenty of things. Like your little human pet, for instance.”
Michael’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
“You silly fool. She’s listening to every word we say. Isn’t that right, ma cherie?”
The door whooshed open, spilling me onto the floor in front of them. Shit. I lay there for a second, cursing my carelessness while the demon laughed.
“I’m glad you could join us.”
I pushed to my feet and balled my hands into fists, murmuring to Michael. “I’m sorry.”
Michael didn’t speak to me, instead addressing Mulciber. “She has nothing to do with this, demon. Let her go.”
“Oh, but she does, dear Michael.” Mulciber stalked towards me, placing a long-fingered hand on my shoulder.
“I’ve been trying all this time to get your little boyfriend to show me his wings, but he just won’t cooperate. Perhaps you can provide him with some incentive.”
She twirled the sickle in her hand. I suspected it was meant to intimidate me. Boy, was she in for a surprise.
“Sorry, but he hasn’t shown them to me either. Looks like neither one of us are worthy.”
“Oh, what a pity. I guess we’ll just have to keep trying.” She slid away from me and brought her arm up to slash him, but I called out to her first.
“What would it cost me to keep you from killing him?”
She paused, tilting her head at me in question. “Cost, ma cherie?”
“Everything with you demons seems to be about gaining something. What can you gain from killing Michael?” It was a dumb question but I had to buy us some time. She didn’t know I had the feather, but I would have to get close to use it. If I tipped her off, she’d tear me to pieces. Either way, I wasn’t about to let her cut him again. Not on my watch.
“Why, one less soldier to fight the war for good,” Mulciber said casually as if she were describing the weather and not the destruction of God’s Army. “With Michael gone, a less experienced angel will have to lead the forces. There can’t possibly be a thing you possess that is worth more than that.”
“So you’re like Belial, huh? Just one thing in mind?”
She snorted. “Please. Belial is the most shortsighted of us. You see how easily I made a deal with him to get the angel while he just went for your pathetic little soul. I’ll never understand why.”
“Because I killed Mr. N.”
Mulciber blew a lock of curly hair off her forehead, seeming bored. “Mr. Who?”
“The Seer who worked for God on Earth. Six foot two, black hair, blue eyes, scars on his hands, face, and neck. I killed him two years ago.”
Her brown eyes expanded. “You did that?”
I nodded. A shiver ran up her body, ending in a long exhale. “Ma cherie, I could kiss you. That man was such a pain in my derriere. I met him at the psychiatric hospital in Jersey all those years ago. Part of me regrets never getting the chance to tear his lungs out and watch him suffocate.”
The breath in my lungs evaporated. I managed to choke out, “Jersey?”
“Oui. You see, I am a traveling psychiatrist. I go from place to place and corrupt as many souls as I can in these hospitals because all they ever need is one little push. In Jersey, I had finally gotten my hands on a Seer, but that man came to visit and tried to keep her out of my clutches. I had been in charge of finding one in order to complete the abduction of an angel’s body, but because he intervened, I lost her. What ever was that poor woman’s name?”
“Jordan, don’t,” Michael whispered, his worried eyes fixed on my shaking shoulders.
“Catalina Amador.”
Mulciber stared at me. “How did you know that?”
“She was my mother.”
Michael shut his eyes and hung his head. Mulciber’s face lit up with a fantastic smile. She clapped her hands together as if I had just told her Christmas was coming early this year. “I cannot imagine anything more wonderful than this! I have killed the mother of an archangel’s human pet. Can it really get any more delicious?”
“Yes,” I whispered, reaching a hand towards the surgical tray behind me where a machete lay. “It can.”
She was standing too close to me to dodge as I snatched up the weapon and swung at her head. In my fury, I’d aimed high, at her smirking face—a foolish mistake that would certainly cost me. She froze, her wild black tresses hiding her features for a second, and then slowly turned back towards me. The tip of the machete had cut into her right cheek, leaving a trail of crimson down her chin that splashed onto her neck and collarbone. She now wore a thoughtful expression as she touched the wound, and then glanced at me.
“You are bold, Seer. Foolish, but bold.”
I gripped the machete’s worn wooden handle, my strength renewed at the thought of murdering this filthy creature with my own hands. “I get that a lot.”
Mulciber lowered her stained fingertips, eying me. “Are you challenging me, ma cherie?”
Behind me, Michael struggled against his bonds to no avail, his voice an urgent hiss. “Jordan, don’t—”
“You bet your ass I am,” I shot back, ignoring him. I didn’t need to hear a warning. I knew what I was about to do was stupid and pointless, but I hadn’t come all this way to leave my mother’s murderer in one piece nor would I allow this demon to kill the man who had taken such good care of me.
She twirled the sickle again. “Are you saying you are willing to die to defend the archangel?”
“It’s not exactly on my To Do list, but yeah. I am.”
She smiled then, seeming satisfied with my answer. “Very well. I will allow you the chance to die for your angel.”
“Mulciber, let her go. You have what you want. You don’t need to do this,” Michael interrupted as she sank into a ready stance with her weapon.
She chuckled. “You’re sweet, mon ami, but it’s too late. Her fate is out of your hands.”
I saw her high-heeled foot take one step forward and then she disappeared.
Seconds later, I felt her breath on the nape of my neck and the sharp pain of the sickle slicing down my back. I cried out, whirling and swinging the machete. She ducked my blow, kicking me in the stomach. I slammed against the opposite wall, smearing blood across it like a sickening mural. She could have killed me with that swing, but she didn’t. She wanted to play with me, just like Belial, but this wasn’t for keeps. She didn’t have a fifth grade crush on me—she wanted to wear me down and tear me apart while Michael watched, helpless, powerless, and miserable. But I’d chosen this path. I wasn’t going to die with a whimper, but a roar.
I pushed away from the wall, blocking out the pain from my injured back. Luckily, she hadn’t sliced all the way through my shirt, but it was mostly trashed, exposing the scars. I’d have a new one if I made it out of this mess in one piece.
Mulciber wiped my blood off of her sickle, waiting for me to come to her. “You must tell me how it feels, ma cherie.”
“How what feels?”
As soon as the last word left my mouth, I leapt for her, swinging. She blocked and I aimed a kick at her kneecap, but she spun around behind me. I turned again, bringing the machete up to block her next blow. My knees buckled under the strength of the hit, but they still held.
She smirked down into my face, still calm, still evil, still waiting. “To know that you are going to die and that God ha
s the power to save you, but chooses not to. It must be excruciating.”
I pushed her away from me with the weapon, pleased when the tip of the machete slashed a hole in the bottom of her shirt. Still didn’t reach flesh, but at least I’d hit something.
“That’s where we’re different, demon. I don’t lament the fact that He won’t intervene. I dealt with that when I was a little girl.”
“Then why do you fight? Why do you give your life for their side when they have allowed you to suffer as you have?”
“Because I know deep down that one day their side is going to send you packing with your tail tucked between your legs,” I sneered.
She narrowed her eyes. I’d managed to bruise her ego. Bully for me. “That is going to cost you.”
She attacked. I could barely keep up with her movements, frantically blocking as many slashes and hacks, wincing as sparks bounced off my skin. She aimed low and sliced into my right thigh. I managed not to cry out this time, instead using the opening to shove the machete into her left shoulder.
She gasped, shocked that I’d injured her, and grabbed the blade to yank it out, cutting her hand in the process. I backed off, circling behind her with a slight limp. Hot blood ran down my injured leg. I started to feel faint. She hadn’t punctured my femoral artery, thank God, but I could tell the cut was deep. I wouldn’t last long in this state. I needed to end this. She was still too far away to reach. If I ran at her with the feather, she’d run me through in a heartbeat. I’d have to lure her in somehow.
“I commend you, Seer,” Mulciber said, her voice now cold rather than mocking. “No human has ever managed to injure me twice.” She switched the sickle to her right hand, leaving her left arm motionless.
“I have grown tired of playing with you. Say goodbye to the archangel.”
I couldn’t help glancing at Michael. Through the fight, he had been watching with growing panic in those sea-green eyes. I felt rather selfish for making him be a witness to my death a second time. I could only hope he’d forgive me for my actions. However, something changed when he met my gaze. Mulciber stood only a few inches in front of him, and I understood what was about to happen seconds before it did.
Michael shoved both feet into the demon’s back, catching her off-guard and catapulting her towards me unguarded. I didn’t hesitate. I shoved the machete through her ribcage, beneath her right breast. She went rigid, choking. I twisted the blade a little, making sure I hit something vital.
“You were saying?”
Then, all at once, she smiled toothily at me and grabbed me by the throat. “Almost, but not quite.”
I gagged as her pale, steely fingers cut off my air supply. She lifted me and shoved me against the far wall. My feet dangled inches off of the floor, my body weight making me suffocate even faster. She grabbed the machete with her left hand and yanked it out, splashing blood over us both, and let it clatter to the floor.
“I’m impressed, ma cherie. You and the angel are almost of a single mind. Too bad it is not enough to save you. All your faith is in vain.”
The world had started to go black around the edges, but one word rang clear through my mind. Faith.
With one hand, I grabbed the demon’s wrist, distracting her attention as I managed to wheeze out one thing.
“Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. Tell me if you saw this coming, ma cherie.”
I withdrew Gabriel’s feather from my back pocket and slammed it into Mulciber’s chest. She screamed in pain, dropping me and crumpling to the floor. I should have demanded that she let Michael down but I didn’t. I just kept digging the feather in deeper and deeper, watching her squirm with relish. She tried to claw at my arms, but I couldn’t even feel the scratches. I wanted her to burn in fires hotter than any Hell. I wanted her to feel every second of pain she had caused me and my mother and Michael and the man I’d never known. Burn, baby, burn.
Her eyes rolled back into her head and that was when I knew she was dead. Her chest was a ruin of black where the feather had burned clear through to the bone, evaporating the space where her heart should have been. I leaned down until my mouth was level with her ear and whispered:
“Vaya con Dios, bitch.”
I tucked the feather back into my pocket and limped over to Michael, who wore a grim expression on his face. I found a stool in the corner and picked up the sickle. I used it to saw through the chains connected to the blood-soaked restraints, talking to distract myself from the horror of what I’d just done.
“What are these things? Why can’t you get free?”
“Demon’s blood. She sacrificed one of her underlings to make them. Demon blood is one of the most powerful substances on earth. Even this body can be trapped by it. Only demons and full-blooded humans can break through the bonds, not angels.”
Finally, I sliced through the second restraint and he fell, leaning his back against the wall for a moment to regain his strength. “How did she manage to trap you?”
“I was told she would meet us in the basement. Just as the elevator doors opened, I felt the presence of an archdemon. That’s when he attacked me from behind with the restraints and Mulciber dragged me down the hall into this room.”
I frowned. “He? Who’s he?”
Michael’s face got very cold. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
He slipped his arm around my waist and then closed his eyes, concentrating on something I couldn’t see or hear. A great wind rushed through the room like we were at the center of a hurricane. It blew so hard that the stool in front of me clattered over on its side and went flying. To my surprise, it hit something invisible before finally smacking the far wall. Seconds later, Jacob faded into view with a sullen look on his face.
“That’s not fair!” he cried, glaring at Michael.
I glanced between the two of them with shock. “What’s going on?”
“Jacob isn’t a ghost. He’s a malevolent poltergeist masquerading as a ghost. He was hired by Mulciber and Belial to lure us here,” Michael explained.
My jaw dropped. “But he’s just a kid, I mean…why? Why would you do something like that, Jacob?”
The boy’s face thinned out in anger, making him seem less like a child and more like a monster. “Why? Because human beings are the worst things in this world and in any world!”
“What are you talking about? I don’t see how we could be any more ruthless than the demon you just helped try to murder someone,” I spat.
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “When I was eight, my father murdered my mother right in front of me. He didn’t care about anyone but himself. I loved her more than anything in the world and he just took her from me like it was nothing! The cops didn’t believe my story so I waited until they all left and killed him in his sleep but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough for what I lost. I dedicated the rest of my life to getting back at humanity. They put me in foster homes and I killed those parents one after the other and made it seem like someone else did until some stupid housewife got lucky and pushed me down the stairs right before I could off her. My soul didn’t pass over because I still want to cause as much pain and suffering as my father caused me. Does that answer your question?”
Christ. I’d met some pretty horrible people recently but this kid took the cake. That story had gushed out of him like blood, as if he’d been hoping to bring it up because he hated us so much. “So I guess you don’t ever intend to cross over to one world or the other?”
“Not if I can help it,” the poltergeist sneered, reaching for the sickle I’d dropped. Before I could move, Jacob ran at us.
I tensed for a fight, but Michael held out his left hand and spoke one word.
“Enough.”
Jacob stopped only inches from us. Fear widened his eyes as his body began to fade away as if he were made of sand that the wind was blowing away. “W-What’s happening to me?”
“I can’t send you to Hell and I can’t send
you to Heaven,” Michael said. “There’s a place for souls who take advantage of their lives after death. It’s called Purgatory.”
Jacob thrashed and shouted curses at us in midair, but eventually his screams died down and he disappeared from sight.
“Geez,” I mumbled, shivering. “Is he gonna be there for all eternity?”
“No. When Judgment Day arrives, he and all the other souls trapped there will be judged just like the rest of humanity.”
“Maybe by then he won’t be so angry.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, Michael moved closer, encircling me with his arms.
I stiffened, confused. “Michael, what…?”
“Shh,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
For some reason, the quietness of his voice and the simplicity of that one word made all the horrible events in my life come rushing back to me at once. I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt every ounce of fear, sadness, and anger that I’d brushed off in order to be strong enough to escape Belial.
For the first time in two years, I cried. I cried for my mother, I cried for the man I’d killed, I cried for Michael, and I cried for the life I’d never have. My legs wouldn’t support my weight any more so we sunk to the floor. Michael said nothing, simply holding me. I couldn’t remember how long we sat there, but he never let go as long as we did. Thank God for him.
Then, gradually, the tears stopped. Maybe it had happened because I hadn’t truly dealt with any of what had been done to me recently, but I was glad to be done with it. Relief poured in around me like warm water—relief that I was alive and had saved the man I could arguably consider to be my best friend. I took a deep shuddering breath and lifted my head, wiping my face clean and smiling at the angel in front of me.
“If you ever tell anyone I cried in front of you, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
Michael smiled back. “Your secret’s safe with me. Seems like you saved my life again.”
I shrugged, clearing my hoarse throat so I wouldn’t sound like Carol Channing any more. “At least I didn’t get stabbed in the chest this time.”