by Amanda Jones
The fallen angels in the room suddenly stiffened in unison, the spell meant to summon angels calling to whatever light was left in each of them. Making one last pass around the circle, Sergei stopped at each point of the pentagram, blowing out the candles one by one. As he blew out the final candle he reached into the center of the pentagram and placed a quartz stone on the floor. Straightening, he raised his arms to the sky, saying the final words of the incantation in English. “So mote it be.” A breeze swirled violently through the room, calming as suddenly as it had arrived. Then there was nothing. No movement, no sound, only the looks of confusion and disappointment being exchanged by the room’s occupants. A few moments of silence passed, without warning, the candles placed at each point of the pentagram burst into flames, shocking everyone. Raising his eyebrow as he turned back to the group, Sergei shot them a cheeky smile. “And now we wait.”
Chapter Eleven
Michael
Michael heaved a huge sigh. How many of those grimoires were left? It had been at least two centuries since he’d felt an angelic summoning spell. He’d hoped the books had all been destroyed or lost to time. Striding down the long marble corridor of the angelic quarters in Heofon, he headed towards the room that housed the heavenly archives.
If he was going to be summoned to earth at the behest of a human, he was taking a couple of his closest friends. You never knew what you were getting into when these spells were cast, and it never hurt to have a bit of backup.
Michael was a warrior angel, well-equipped to handle demonic incursions into the human realm. He thought it best to bring an angel of hope and a scholar just in case. As he walked through the large double doors of the archives, he scanned the room, spotting the pair of angels he was seeking off at a table in the corner poring over an enormous volume. Leila, an angel of hope, was a newly-created angel, relatively speaking. She had only been around for a few centuries. She was still under the tutelage of Bellerophon, formerly a warrior like Michael. He was now a respected angelic scholar responsible for bringing newer angels up to speed. Moving quietly, Michael made his way through the massive room.
Solid-gold shelves stacked full of books rose from floor to ceiling, covering all four walls. The history of everything — the light, the dark, and humankind were recorded in those volumes. Younger angels spent years studying here to learn of their angelic heritage and all that had come before them, the trials and tribulations that had affected the light, and how to maintain the balance with the dark. The looming shelves never failed to intimidate. Even Michael, who had been around for almost every event contained within those books felt the weight of time pressing down on him every time he entered this space.
As he reached their table, Leila looked up at him and smiled. She was the ideal image of an angel of hope. Her smile was wide and bright, her long blond hair fell down around her shoulders in perfect golden ringlets highlighted by the aura of her angelic glow. Her clear blue eyes sparkled with life, joy, and positive energy. It was like the Deity had chipped off a piece of the sun when he’d created her. In contrast, the angel beside her looked like a dark avenger. Bellerophon’s jet black hair hung straight down brushing the shoulders of his snow white shirt. He raised his head to look at Michael, his light emerald eyes piercing in contrast to his darkly tanned olive skin. Though his eyes were light, there was darkness in them, a pain that had clearly penetrated to his soul. Despite his youthful appearance it was evident that Bellerophon was an ancient being.
“How can we help you, my brother?” Bellerophon asked. Rarely did the angels address each other by name, using only brother and sister among themselves, considering each other family as opposed to individuals.
“I’ve been summoned by a human and had hoped you would both join me,” Michael replied.
Eyebrows raised, Bellerophon placed a marker in the page of the book he and Leila had been studying and flipped it closed with a bang. “A human summoning? It’s been quite some time since the last.”
“Yes,” Michael said on a sigh. “I’d hoped we’d seen the last of the Grand Grimoire in the late nineteenth century. I was mistaken.”
“Apparently,” Bellerophon replied, steepling his fingers and resting his chin against their tips. “This could be a good learning experience for our young sister. We will accompany you. Her presence may be necessary if the human summoner is in crisis; hope can solve many ills.” Bellerophon turned his head to face Leila. “Do you feel prepared to join us?”
Smiling brightly, Leila nodded. “Yes. I’ve longed to venture into the human realm. I’m almost done with my studies and will be spending considerable time among the humans shortly, so this would be the perfect preparatory mission in the company of two of my most respected brothers.”
Rising from the table, Leila and Bellerophon joined Michael as they made the long walk out of the archive and down the long marble hallways of Heofon to the balcony commonly used as a takeoff and landing pad. Exiting the palace onto the large semi-circular structure, they were surrounded by others disappearing in blinding flashes of light as they shot off the balcony into the cloudless azure sky. Standing in front of his two companions, Michael raised each of his hands and placed them gently on the tops of their heads; closing his eyes, he visualized the shining thread of the spell connecting him to the human who had summoned him. Pushing his thoughts towards the other two angels, Michael was able to share the pull of the spell, allowing his companions to follow him. Opening their eyes, the trio nodded to each other in confirmation. Turning and stepping to the edge of the balcony, they spread their wings wide and jumped, a blinding pulse of light was all that was left as they took to the air. Moving faster than the human eye could track, the angels sped through the skies, homing in on the beacon of the summons, the shining psychic thread growing stronger as they neared their target. The city came into view below them. Narrowing in on the building giving off the pulsing electricity of magic, the trio came down on the roof, the bright flash from their landing appearing to the average human as the sun glinting off the glass enclosure of the roof terrace. As heavenly law dictated, when they were in the human realm, they folded their wings behind themselves and muttered the prayer necessary to hide them from human view. Their wings now translucent, Michael turned to his two companions, and raised a questioning eyebrow as he motioned towards the machine room entrance. “Elevator or stairs?”
Clapping her hands in excitement, Leila turned her excited expression on Michael. “Oh please, can we take the elevator? I’ve never ridden in one and I’d love to try it!”
Glancing at each other over Leila’s head, Michael and Bellerophon exchanged amused looks. Oh to be newly created and just discovering the world, every experience like a shiny gift waiting to be unwrapped. Looking back down at Leila, Michael took on an indulgent tone. “Of course we’ll take the elevator; however, you may find the experience less than exhilarating.”
Beaming up at him, Leila looked unconcerned. “That’s fine. As we’re taught, every experience is of value.” With that she skipped off towards the door of the machine room, trailed closely by her companions.
They entered the machine room and walked down the short flight of stairs to the elevator’s last stop. Michael reached out and pushed the call button, chuckling to himself as he watched as Leila practically vibrated with excitement. A few moments later the call light stopped glowing and the elevator doors opened with a ding. The trio stepped in and Michael pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. The elevator doors slid shut and it began its descent. The floors counted down on the red LED screen near the door as Michael cringed at the awful easy-listening music that wafted through the hidden speakers. Finally reaching their destination, the elevator dinged again and the doors opened onto a long hallway that was a study in beige. Feeling the pull of the spell, Michael turned right, followed by Leila and Bellerophon. As he neared the correct door, he felt pinpricks of energy all over his body like tiny needles. He’d always hated that feeling, like the
re was an insect with sharp spiny legs crawling all over him. Raising his hand, Michael knocked on the door and adopted his most annoyed expression for the benefit of the human who’d had the gall to call on him. It wouldn’t do for this human to think calling on angels whenever the feeling struck was welcome. Moments later footsteps echoed drawing closer to the door and it swung open to reveal a slightly dishevelled looking man who looked as though he was in dire need of a nap.
“You called?” Michael said in his most bored tone.
Rolling his eyes, the man waved the small group into the entryway and closed the door behind them. “I realize you’d rather not be responding to my summons, but thank you for coming. I’m Sergei, by the way.”
“Lovely to meet you, Sergei. Michael, Bellerophon, and Leila at your service,” Michael replied, gesturing at each angel in turn. Bellerophon nodded in greeting, Leila gifted Sergei with one of her brightest smiles. “Now, what do you want?”
Sighing loudly, Bellerophon turned to look at Michael. “At least pretend to care, would you? We wouldn’t want to develop a general reputation for rudeness; it doesn’t seem very angelic.”
Waving his hand in dismissal, Michael ran his tongue over his teeth in annoyance and replied. “Obviously we care about the humans, but this one knows about us and has taken it upon himself to call me away from my duties, so the least he can do is tell me why we’re here.”
Sergei ran his hand through his hair for what must have been the umpteenth time given its appearance. “Look, I would never have presumed to summon angels if it wasn’t an emergency. A friend is in a bit of a bind. She’s not human, Satan wants her, and I have a living room full of demons and the fallen. We need your help to keep her safe but we can’t take her to the dark. Our only option was to call on the light. Trust me this was not how I envisioned spending the last twenty-four hours.”
Frowning, Michael shook his head. “If she’s not human and she’s not disturbing the balance, then this is a demonic issue and we can’t help. You’ll have to talk to the council that regulates her species of demon. What is she?”
“That’s just it.” Sergei sighed. “We don’t know.”
His curiosity now piqued, Michael turned to look at Bellerophon. “Bringing you was probably a good idea, a scholar with your depth of knowledge should be able to shed some light on what she is.”
Bellerophon nodded. “I do have an encompassing knowledge of demonic species.” Turning to Sergei he continued. “Take us to the girl. At the very least we can leave her with the knowledge of what she is.”
Sergei turned, motioning to the angels to follow him into the living room. As they entered, the conversation in the room ceased. An awkward silence took hold of the room as Michael and Bellerophon locked eyes with Samael, then Bataryal, their fallen brothers. It had been millennia since they’d been in a room together, divided now by time and their fall from grace. Being the smartass that he was, it was B who finally broke the tension in the room, pointing at Michael’s tailored white suit. “You’ve come a long way from the girly robes. Or are you headed to an audition for GQ after this?”
Amir snorted, then thought better of it, and turned it into a cough. Sam hid his smile by looking down at the floor.
“Still a joker, I see,” Michael said to B with sad smile. “I’m glad you haven’t changed.”
B’s smile faltered for a moment, then returned full force. “Yup, still the same.”
“And how are you, Samael?” Michael asked.
“Getting by — same old, same old,” Sam replied, not wanting to burden his old friend with the truth. The door separating the kitchen from the living room suddenly swung open as Luc entered the room with Katia. They stopped in their tracks as they noticed the three new occupants of the room. Luc stopped in his tracks and let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Took you long enough,” he said sarcastically to the trio. “We’ve been waiting for hours. I was about to suggest a nap so we wouldn’t fall asleep standing up.”
Before Michael could respond, Bellerophon stepped in front of him, eyes locked on Katia with an expression of wonder mixed with pain frozen on his face. “Elaina, it’s you.”
Chapter Twelve
Voss
“WHAT!” Satan bellowed, slamming his fists down on his heavy mahogany desk causing it to crack down the middle.
Voss jumped backward, slamming his body hard into the wall. His teeth clacked together painfully. If there was one thing all of Satan’s minions knew, it was to never be the one delivering bad news to the boss. Voss was the only one, aside from Satan, who needed to know about this mission. Delivering pain was what Voss lived for. But being on the receiving end was another matter entirely. Moving out from behind his desk, but never breaking eye contact, Satan walked forward to stand in front of Voss. Pinpricks of red glowed through the deceptively soft and inviting brown of his eyes, growing in number until his irises were completely consumed, glowing like two beacons of pure evil. He stamped his foot angrily like a petulant teenager.
“How could you have let this happen? You — more than anyone — know the consequences of failure!” Reaching forward, Satan grabbed Voss by the front of his jacket and hoisted him up in the air single-handedly, slamming him up against the wall. Voss felt the bones of his long, forked, blue tail grind into powder as he made contact. Egeria demon that he was, Voss’s skin began to change colour, blending in to match the Wolframite walls like a chameleon, his red eyes standing out in sharp contrast.
A look of pure disgust on his face, Satan shook him like a rag doll and tossed him across the room. Voss landed in a heap on the floor, crying out at the agony of his broken tail. Pacing back and forth, Satan fumed. How dare Lucifer disobey him in this matter? Did he not realize that he had just bought himself a world of pain? And for what? The girl had no meaning to him. Satan attaining his goal would not be derailed by a fallen angel who had suddenly decided to start making up his own rules.
“Unacceptable!” he shouted. Voss trembled and cowered on the floor, eyes downcast. Stopping mid-stride, Satan pointed down at Voss.
“Get up, you sniveling waste of skin.” Cradling his ruined tail in one hand, Voss dragged himself to his feet. Resuming his pacing, Satan tapped his forefinger against his lower lip in thought. Suddenly smiling, Satan spun back around to face Voss. “Time to make it personal.” Walking slowly in his minion’s direction, he grabbed a paring knife off a nearby table. Testing the sharpness of the blade on his thumb, he addressed Voss. “Do you know the identity of the Jinn that brought them there?”
Shaking his head nervously, Voss replied, “No, my lord, he wasn’t familiar to me.”
Nodding, Satan continued his interrogation. “And the location they went to?”
“It was the building in which the woman lives.”
Smiling to himself, Satan replied, “I see. Were they met by anyone else before they entered, or was it just the three of them?”
“There were two others, my lord, two fallen. The ones called Samael and Bataryal were already present and waiting when Lucifer arrived with the woman and the Jinn.”
“Excellent.” Satan’s smile grew larger, the boyish dimples appearing on his cheeks. Chuckling to himself, he made his way back over to his desk. Taking a seat in the oversized chair, he rested his crossed legs on top of the desk.
Satan swiveled the desk chair to face his still cowering minion.
“I have a new assignment for you.”
Bowing, Voss replied, “Yes, my lord.”
“You will go to the building in which the woman lives and you will locate her friend, Sergei Romanov.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Once you have him in your possession, you will interrogate him to determine the location of the woman and my wayward servant Lucifer.”
“My lord, do you wish me to interrogate him in the usual fashion?” Voss asked, a hopeful smile starting to kick up the corner of his lips.
Bemused, Satan inclined his head. “Voss, you may in
terrogate him in any way you like. I have no need of this human beyond the information you will gather.”
Enthusiasm for this new assignment crept into Voss’s voice. “And do you wish me to locate the other two fallen who have aided in this betrayal, my lord? I can interrogate them also.”
Satan replied in a thoughtful tone, “No. Leave them be for now. I’ll have some special plans for them at a later date. Just take care of Sergei Romanov and report back to me as soon as it’s done.”
“Yes, my lord, your wish is my command.”
Suddenly deadly serious, Satan leapt to his feet, crossing the room at superhuman speed, snatching Voss by the back of the neck. “Damn straight it is.” Leaning in close to whisper menacingly in Voss’s ear, Satan continued. “Now remember, you’ve failed me once already by letting Lucifer and the woman out of your sight and failing to detain them. Too much is at stake. I will not tolerate another mistake. Do you understand?”
Nodding as furiously as he was able while still in Satan’s grip, Voss replied. “Yes. My lord. Absolutely, my lord. I will not fail you, master.”
Raising his free hand, Satan brought the paring knife he still held to within a millimeter of Voss’s eye. “You had better not or a broken tail will be the least of your worries. I’ll start with your eyes and work my way down…slowly, to make sure you understand my point.” He held Voss immobile for several long minutes, the point of the knife a whisper away. Releasing him abruptly with a disgusted expression, Satan turned and stalked out of the room. Voss was left standing alone in Satan’s office in a puddle of his own urine.
Satan
As the door slammed behind him, Satan took a moment to bask in his post torture order glow. There had been so many options… hurt Lucifer directly through his fallen brethren, discover the identity of the Jinn and torture him…or, the piece de resistance! Hurt the woman’s human friend Sergei, thereby hurting her and, if Satan’s assumption was correct, hurting Lucifer by hurting her. Wow, that was a lot of hurt…it felt like all his Christmases had come at once! Yes, he knew Lucifer well enough after all this time to know that this was indeed personal. Had he wanted to simply flout an order he would have simply refused the job and taken the torture. The likelihood that Lucifer had indeed discovered the woman’s true nature was slim…possible, but slim. With a wicked smile, Satan whistled a happy tune as he skipped away down the hall.