by Eve Langlais
“You bitch,” he swears.
“What’s that? I can’t hear you over the sound of burning flesh,” I reply as I hurl the Powerball at him. He cries out as his whole body erupts in a burst of light.
Just then Knight emerges from behind one of the trees with a huge Powerball aimed right at me. The fugitive is going to kill me. I don’t know why this surprises me––he is after all a criminal. However, for some reason I feel betrayed by the act. It’s as if we had some kind of understanding and now he’s backing out on our deal.
Bellamy, you had no deal, you idiot; move!
I dive down to the ground, but Knight doesn’t readjust his aim. Instead he sends the Powerball where he had always meant to send it–to the demon standing behind me. The demon dies instantly.
“I saw him standing there; I had him,” I lie.
“Sure, Princess, whatever you say,” he says, shaking his head.
“Sorry to interrupt you lovers but I have to kill you now,” the demon says as he attacks us from above.
Before Knight and I can mount a counterattack, the demon is joined by six more of his friends. We are not in the position to attack at the moment. At this point it’s really about not getting killed.
Knight and I take off running into the forest with the demons on our trail. They send out fireballs that land only inches away from us.
“We have to get reinforcements; where are the other Omari?” I ask myself out loud.
“There’s a ski resort at the base of this mountain filled with humans. You know what that means,” Knight replies.
“They won’t come to our rescue until the humans are all safe,” I reply.
“That’s right; looks like we are all we got,” Knight says as he scouts the area.
“Don’t worry. There is no need to be scared. I won’t let them take you,” I assure him.
“What? You think you can protect–”
I tackle him to the ground. The two of us go flying backwards and crash into a tree.
“If you wanted to get closer to me all you had to do was ask, Princess,” he says, looking down at me suggestively.
“There was a demon and he–whatever. Let’s go,” I snap.
“I have a cabin not far from here, follow me.” He takes off and I am right behind him.
I can see the cabin just ahead of us, but before we can get to it, the demons stage a concentrated attack and blow it up. The eruption sends us flying into the air once again back to the ground. Only this time Knight does not get up. I shake him, but he’s not waking up. I call out his name, but I get no response. The demons, seeing that Knight and I are weak, descend down on us.
I look around for an escape and the only thing near us is a small shed a few yards away. Thinking quickly, I summon up a massive Powerball in the palm of both hands. Knowing that’s not enough to take out all of the demons, I hurl the Powerball into the flaming cabin. Then I quickly place Knight and I in a Holder––a bubble–like prison.
My plan works; the power of my attack when combined with the flames causes a mini nuclear explosion. The Holder protects Knight and me, but the demons in the sky fall lifelessly to the ground. Knight starts to wake up slowly and looks up at me.
“Did you just save me?” he asks.
“You bet your sweet ass, Princess,” I reply.
***
Knight and I make our way towards the shed. He can walk on his own, but he’s moving kind of slow. It takes some time, but I am finally able to get us into the shed. I look around and there is very little for us to work with in terms of shelter. The shed hold piles of wood, human tools, and some camping gear. I place a Holder on the shed so that no one can enter or leave. Outside the shed we hear the demons trying to get in.
“We have to stay here until the Omari come for us,” I tell him.
“You’re hurt,” he says, concerned, as he sits up slowly.
I look down and find that I am bleeding on my side.
“I didn’t even realize…” I reply as I inspect the deep gash on my right side.
Knight looks around and finds a backpack in the corner, near the camping gear. He opens it, finds a few pieces of clothing. He rips them into shreds and takes a vial from his pocket.
“This mixture should fix you up. I just need to dab a little on the wound,” he says.
I pull back. He smiles at my reaction.
“After all we’ve been through, I’m hurt you don’t trust me,” he says, pretending to be wounded.
“I should have you restrained,” I reply.
“Fine, but I need to know your name first,” he says as he comes closer and inspects my wound.
“Why do you need to know my name?” I ask rudely.
“I always get a woman’s name before she restrains me. Otherwise, it’s impersonal,” he quips.
“Trust me, there is nothing personal about this situation,” I correct him.
“It’s up to you, but it seems only fair because I’m guessing you know a lot about me,” he says.
“I know about you because it’s my job to know. Now hand over the mixture.”
“You won’t be able to apply it yourself. At least not the first application,” he says.
“The hell I can’t; hand it over,” I demand.
“It’s Tyrol,” he says.
“Damn it!” I reply.
Tyrol is a mixture that’s better than any other when it comes to healing a wound. But it’s also the most painful. Angels squirm and cry out during the first application.
“Fine,” I reply reluctantly.
He kneels down on the floor beside me and takes out the vial but stops just short of opening it. I look up at him and I know exactly what he wants.
“Fine, my name is Bellamy,” I retort.
“Bellamy what?”
“Parker,” I reply.
“There, was that so bad?”
“Just put the damn mixture on,” I order.
He smiles and tells me to brace myself. I do, but once the blue colored mixture makes contact with my skin, I gasp in horrible pain.
“I’m almost done,” he says.
“Hurry,” I demand.
“If I apply it too quickly, it won’t work. You know that. Be a brave little girl,” he mocks.
“Call me a girl one more time and split your fucking head open.”
“I don’t know what’s crawled up your wings and died, Princess, but I saved your life. You would have been powerless without me back in the forest.”
“Screw you,” I reply, growing angry.
“I swear to Omnis, women have no fucking business on the battlefield. Isn’t there something else you can do? Something you are better at? I’m thinking gardening or maybe giving flying lessons to baby angels?” he says.
“I saved your damn life! I can do anything that you asshole guys can do, and if you ever disrespect me like that again, I swear to Omnis I’ll–”
“Done!” he says.
I look down at my side and the blue mixture has been applied and while I felt pain, it wasn’t excruciating. He pissed me off on purpose so I would have something else to focus on.
“You didn’t have to be a dick in order to distract me from the pain,” I tell him.
“Something tells me talking about flowers and chick flicks wouldn’t have held your attention,” he retorts.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll reapply another dose of the Tyrol later–by myself,” I inform him.
“Is this you saying ‘thank you’?” he asks.
“Not even a little.”
He smiles, shakes his head, and sits back down next to me.
“I’ve seen you before. You and the others were chasing me in India,” he says.
“We almost had you,” I reply.
“Or so you want to believe.”
“If we had gotten there just three minutes earlier–”
“Then you and I wouldn’t be sharing this lovely moment,” he quips.
“As soon as the humans are safe we will leave
here and I will take you in.”
“You were the last one,” he says.
“What?”
“In India–you were the last Omari to leave the marketplace where I was hiding. They all left, but you stayed behind. Why?” he wonders.
“I’m good at my job,” I inform him.
“You were also the last one to take off in Greenland and Costa Rica.”
“Again, good at my job. How did you know I was the last one? You already took off,” I ask.
“I had to wait for a clear path. There were humans everywhere. That’s when I realized you were still looking for me. I found you…interesting.”
“Really? Why?” I wonder.
“You looked for me as if we had met before. As if you were looking for someone you knew personally. So when the Omari were close, I would escape but stick around to see if my ‘friend’ was still on my trail.”
“I was always on your trail, and believe me, we are not friends,” I correct him.
“You spend more time on finding me than anyone else on your team. How does he feel about that?”
“Who is ‘he,’” I ask.
“Your Man. I know you have one,” he accuses.
“Why are you so sure about that?”
“There’s no way a hot piece of tail like you isn’t mind fucking some poor angel,” he says with certainty.
“I’m not doing anything to him. He’s fine. We’re fine. Our relationship is fine. It’s better than fine. He loves me. I love him.”
“Mind fuck; poor guy,” he retorts.
“Derek is happy with the way things are.”
“What’s he like?” Knight pushes.
“He’s dependable, kind, and trustworthy.”
“Sounds like a golden retriever,” he says.
“Are you calling my boyfriend a dog?”
“No, I think you did that.”
“Derek happens to be the love of my life,” I reply.
“He’s so great you go around the world chasing him. Oh wait, that’s what you do for me,” he quips.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Knight. You’re a job for me. Derek is the one I go home to at night. He’s the one I give…everything to.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you get all that back, right?”
“What does that mean?”
“Never mind. You and Mr. Perfect sound great together,” he replies.
“We are. He asked me to marry him.”
Why am I telling him all of this?
“You said yes? You gave him your Rah?” Knight asks, sounding strangely alarmed.
“No–not yet. But I’m sure I will,” I reply.
He flashes me a cocky smile. I hate him. Seriously.
“Why the hell are you smiling like that?” I demand.
“Seems to me that when you want something you go after it no matter what. But in this case…”
“You’re right, Knight. I don’t want to marry Derek. I don’t want any man but you,” I mock, rolling my eyes.
“Sometimes the shit you say in jest…”
“Knight, just stop it! Derek is a great guy.”
“Hey, where’s the nearest Derek alter? It’s been so long since I worshiped him,” Knight says.
“He’s not perfect, but at least I know he won’t poison me.”
Knight looks at me with cold, dead eyes. My words have incensed him. I feel the need to say I’m sorry, but I suppress it because Knight is a killer; he gets no apologies. My wound starts to hurt again so I reach out for the mixture.
“You wanna get off?” he asks.
“What? How dare you? I am taken. I have a boyfriend and I would never sleep with–”
“No princess, I meant do you want to get off of me,” he corrects.
That’s when I realize that in leaning forward to reach the mixture, I am essentially laying on top of him. Our faces are close together; my breasts are inches away from his lips, the muscles of his taunt abs firmly support my upper body. Meanwhile my lower body has made itself at home in–between his thighs. I pull myself off of him, clear my throat, and fix my clothes.
“And don’t worry about me Princess, I would never screw you,” he says crudely.
“Glad to hear it,” I counter.
I know I should not ask what I’m about to ask, but I don’t care. I need to know. And if we die out here, I don’t want to do it with a burning question on my lips. Still, I don’t want him to know that I desperately want an answer, so when I speak, I order my voice to be calm and collected.
“Why?” I ask.
“Why what?” he barks.
“Why wouldn’t you ever…screw me,” I reply.
“It would be too cruel.”
“I don’t get it,” I confess.
“Your boyfriend sounds like lots of angels I know. Always following the rules, staying within the guidelines of ‘appropriate angel behavior.’ I bet when you guys fuck, he doesn’t even wrinkle the sheets. Then I come along wanting to do things to you your body can’t even comprehend. I doubt you’d survive.”
“Wow, you have taken cocky to a whole new level.”
“I don’t brag, it’s a pansy ass thing to do. The truth is I suck at a lot of shit, but I’m good at fucking, always have been. It doesn’t make me a better angel. It doesn’t make me a good or bad guy. It just is.”
“So you think I couldn’t handle you?” I ask.
“I think if you love your boyfriend you should stop staring at my cock.”
I scoff and turn away from him, pretending to be offended. The truth is I’m more embarrassed than offended. And even more than my sense of embarrassment is my sense of disappointment. I don’t want to look away from any part of him; especially not that part.
“Wow, were you this charming with your girlfriend?” I reply.
I didn’t need to see his face to know I have struck a chord. For one thing, he doesn’t have a quick, ready comeback. And from the corner of my eye, I saw him lower his head slightly. I take a chance and look over at him. I was right. When he looks up at me, there’s sadness in his eyes and more regret than one angel should harbor alone.
“She meant a lot to you,” I realize.
“We’re not talking about this,” he says sternly.
“If Elizabeth meant that much to you, why did you kill her?”
“WHAT DID I SAY?” He rages.
“Fine, but just so you know, being sorry she’s gone doesn’t make you any less of a murderer,” I point out.
“You Omari bastards always think you know everything. I didn’t kill Lizzie. I would never…”
“What happened?”
“I was at a bar waiting for her, some girl came up to me and was pissed when I rejected her. She told her boyfriend I came on to her so she could see us fight like damn dogs. Weeks later, I ran into him at a different bar, and he thought he’d get back at me by putting a mixture in my drink. But it wasn’t my drink, it was Lizzie’s.”
“So someone else killed your girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“We should be going after him then, if you’re telling the truth,” I reply.
“There was a hearing and you Para cocksuckers decided the angel only meant to harm me, not kill. So he got off.”
“Why did the mixture kill her?” I wonder.
“She was much smaller than me. What would have only harmed me ended up destroying her. It took effect quickly. She died within minutes,” he says distantly.
“So you’re innocent?” I ask.
“Not anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“Never mind,” he says.
“We found you because you wanted us to. You exacted revenge on the angel, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t say anything, but the look he gives me lets me know that I’m right. He didn’t kill his girlfriend, but he was by no means innocent.
“You let us find you on purpose, didn’t you?” I push.
“I had a mission, I completed it,”
he replies softly.
“Is there any chance the guy’s not dead?” I ask.
He looks over at me with a deadly glare. Whoever that angel is, he’s gone now.
“Did it make you feel better to take him out?” I wonder.
“I don’t do that anymore,” he says.
“Do what?”
“Feel.”
Something about the tone in his voice simply breaks my heart. Since when did I start feeling bad for murderers?
Right around the time you started dreaming about having oral sex with them, Bellamy…
I then tell him about my sister Bay and how she died. She was dating a Quo: half angel, half human. He wanted to impress her, so he said he was more powerful than he really was. They were under attack by some demons and she neglected to call for help because she knew the two of them could handle a few demons on their own. But it turns out she spent most of the battle protecting the Quo. In the end, it cost her life.
“What did you do to the Quo?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“How could you not go after him?” he asks.
“You went after Lizzie’s killer, but it didn’t change the fact that she was gone, did it?”
“Guess not.”
“All it did was get you in trouble, and now I have to take you in when my team gets here.”
“You don’t see me weeping, do you?” he asks.
“Because you’re so damn tough?”
“Because I’m so damn empty. I don’t really care what happens to me. She’s gone. Nothing matters now,” he replies.
“I felt that way about Bay’s death. Still do sometimes. It’s like sorrow seeps into every part of your brain and you just want to feel something else; anything else,” I add.
Without thinking, I lean in and slowly suck on his lower lip. He parts my lips roughly with his tongue for several frenzied moments. Then he wraps his powerful hand around my neck and looks into my eyes.
“If I start, I won’t stop,” he warns.
I look down into his tormented face. And I send out a warning of my own.
“Get ready to feel something.”
***
I don’t remember how it happened. All I know is that in a matter of seconds both of us had stripped naked. Normally I am somewhat bashful and need time to warm up. This time it’s different. This time there’s a hungry need driving me.