Forsaken_Cursed Angel Watchtower 12

by Gilbert, L. B.

  Using the sacred words for connection, he called for Kara, using her name in between refrains. His spell pulsed out of him, the vibration coming from the very heart of him.

  An invisible wave bounced back on him, striking like a body blow. He fell on his side.

  Merde. Ash winced and picked himself up. Anxious now, he redoubled his efforts, praying and chanting in the tone and frequency specific to angels. Eventually, his desperation infused the spell. It increased in pitch, battering at the invisible wall generated by the pentagram.

  Only some of them ricocheted. He sat there, buffeted by the force of his own spell. The noise generated was so loud he was tempted to cover his ears, but he couldn’t risk stopping his chant. He kept his hand on the sigil, breaking off suddenly when he heard stones shift. An ominous crack sounded overhead.

  Crap. If he kept going, the subbasement might come down on him completely. Even if she heard him, Kara might not be able to reach him, let alone dig him out.

  Wincing, he resumed chanting. It wasn’t like he had another option.

  You know, now might be an excellent time to pray.

  26

  Hours passed before Ash finally stopped chanting. The reverberation had stopped, signaling whatever mojo Kara’s blood had given the spell was waning.

  The subbasement floor had continued to collapse, kicking up a storm of dust that induced a massive coughing fit, but the angel trap was undisturbed.

  And Kara still hadn’t appeared.

  Trying not to lose hope, he lay on the floor, picturing her face. He lost himself in dreams of her. Some were memories of the past, but mostly he fantasized about the future they might never have.

  The rock that fell from the ceiling landed a few feet away. Figuring it was just the building settling, he ignored it until he heard his name.

  “Ash.”

  He sat bolt upright, joy and love rushing through him. “Kara!”

  “Where the hell are you?” A thin beam of light broke through the darkness. It shone through the ceiling, jerking back and forth as she began to climb down from one of the holes.

  “Be careful,” he called, watching the progress of the flashlight with his heart in his throat.

  The ceiling was ten feet off the ground, but the partial collapse meant there was a pile of rubble for her to land on. Twisting like a gymnast, she landed lightly on top of the stones, dropping the flashlight in the process.

  Kara bent to pick it up, waving it in his general direction. “What happened? Why are you here? And why in the hell did I feel compelled to come here?”

  She held the flashlight under her chin, illuminating her lovely confused face.

  “Don’t move! Stay right there,” he shouted. The trap was generating immense amounts of energy. Crossing the boundary could be dangerous. “It was the council, or rather a damn cabal within the council. They laid a trap for me.”

  “Ugh. Which councilmen?”

  “Mazarin, Klein, and Titouan. There may have been more, but those three were the only ones who dared show their faces. They have been spying and plotting against me since I removed them from office.”

  He gestured to the lines of the pentagram. “I can’t cross the boundary.”

  Her expression was incredulous. “Are you serious?” She pointed the flashlight beam at the ground. “This is all it takes to capture you?” She whistled. “If I’d only known…”

  He glowered. “It’s demon magic, Kara. They had to sacrifice an animal for this—or worse.”

  Chastised, she looked down. “Oh, sorry.”

  “You have to help me deactivate it, but carefully. Don’t cross the edge. Don’t even put a finger over it,” he warned.

  Kara looked at the lines of the trap. “How do I undo it?”

  “It should be easy from the outside. You just erase the symbols at the edge of each point. That’s how I deactivated one a few thousand years ago.”

  Her expression was dubious. “O-kay. I don’t suppose you care to explain how the hell I came to be here? Because I’m not sure. I was out gathering roots and tubers for the evening meal when my skin started to itch like crazy, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The compulsion was so strong I dropped the roots I’d spent over an hour gathering and came straight here.”

  She wasn’t going to like the truth… “Would you believe it was true love calling you to me in my hour of need?”

  Kara scowled, swinging the light sharply at him for emphasis. “Didn’t you hear me? I dropped food.”

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “All right, I called you to me.”

  The crease in her brow deepened. “How in the hell did you do that?”

  “I…drank your blood.”

  Kara’s nose scrunched in disdain and surprise. “Eww.”

  “Isn’t that how your people use the vials you gave them when they’re staving off the curse?”

  “No!” She laughed, shaking her head. “They just spill it. Some choose to smear it on themselves to be safe.”

  Ash was skeptical. I bet Theo drank it. And Sij looked like the type who would enjoy the taste of blood.

  “I needed to take it into my body to strengthen the bond between us,” he said. “Drinking it was the most expedient way.”

  “Whatever,” she replied, muttering about vampire angels under her breath.

  Taking a few steps to her left, Kara knelt, reaching out to wipe away at the painted symbol on the point closest to her.

  “Don’t touch it with your hands,” he admonished, getting as close to the edge as he could without getting zapped again.

  “Got it.” Kara rubbed the lip of the torch against the symbol, but the spray-painted symbol didn’t budge, so she grabbed a sharp rock and began scratching.

  “Is that good enough?” she asked. There was a gouge through the middle.

  “Make sure it’s completely interrupted,” he said craning his neck to see the whole thing.

  She nodded and kept at it until the entire thing was bisected in two.

  “That should do it,” he said, thanking her before she moved on to the next.

  Her eyes flicked to his as she began to erase the second symbol. “Are you going to kill the men who put you in here?”

  She bit her lip, her face pensive.

  Ash hesitated. Would she see him differently if he executed the politicians? How tenuous was their bond?

  “Do you think I should spare them?”

  Kara took a deep breath and looked up as if she was considering her answer. “Normally, I would say yes…but Titouan would sell his mother if he thought someone would pay. And he’s the nice one in the bunch. I know too much about Mazarin and Klein to argue that they deserve leniency. Do whatever you have to do.”

  Ash’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed. “Good. I’m glad we agree. By the way, until I take care of them, you should steer clear of their districts.”

  She frowned, scratching at another sigil. “Why?”

  “They’ve been spying. That’s how they figured out how to do this—they got into the other texts I confiscated from the tower. I should have gone through them more thoroughly. If I’d known this ritual was in there, I would have hidden them better.”

  Kara glared at him. “I’m not running from those douchebags. If they come at me, I’ll make them regret it.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. “Something tells me you would succeed.”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t get trapped by such an obvious ruse and a little spray paint.”

  His lips pressed together hard. “I know.”

  She chortled and kept working on the symbols. The last proved to be a challenge. It had been covered by fallen stones, forcing Kara to perch precariously on them to try and dig it out.

  “So…was the part about true love calling me at all true? Is that a factor in your little phone call ritual or did you make that up?”

  “Since the only other people I’ve ever called are my angel brethren, I couldn’t say. I
don’t think it’s a factor. I love my brothers and sisters, but I don’t love my brothers and sisters if you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I think I get it.”

  He fought the urge to cross the barrier and pull her into his arms. “But I do love you.”

  A cocky grin flashed across her face. “I know,” she said, echoing his words.

  Damn. He just got Han-Solo’d, and she didn’t even know it.

  Ash waited for more, but the love of his life just kept smirking and digging away. “Aww, c’mon, Kara, throw a guy a bone.”

  She giggled. “You’re like the most insecure angel I’ve ever met.”

  “I’m the only angel you’ve ever met.”

  “Thank God for that,” she muttered.

  “Kara.”

  “All right, fine—I love you, too, you gigantic winged doofus.”

  Ash released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She blew the hair out of her eyes, shoving at a chunk of concrete that was blocking the last symbol. Only a fraction of it was cleared, but it was enough for her to start working to interrupt the corner with her rock.

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot, impatient to get out of there and hold her.

  “Are you—”

  He didn’t hear the rest of what she said. A tremor shook the building, sending a piece of rebar down the pile of rubble Kara was standing on. It knocked her off balance, propelling her over the line of the pentagram. There was a bright flash of light as her fragile body crossed the barrier threshold.

  Ash flew toward her, trying to push her back out of the trap before she got fried.

  He failed.

  27

  The barrier was down, but it had severely hurt Kara in the process. Somehow, against all odds, she’d scraped the last connecting lines as she fell, granting him freedom.

  But she wasn’t moving.

  Ash cradled her to him tightly. “Don’t die,” he pleaded, pressing his lips to her hair.

  She didn’t answer. There was no sign she had heard him—no eyelash flutter, not even a twitch.

  “Damn it, Kara. Don’t do this to me.” Fuck saving the world. She couldn’t leave him.

  He checked her pulse. It was weak and thready, but still there. Unsure what else to do, he started performing CPR, rhythmically breathing in and out of her mouth.

  Her lips were the first sign of movement. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but the increased pressure of her mouth against his was a real response.

  Kara sneezed and blinked, jerking away from him. “I was going to hit you because I couldn’t figure out who was kissing me.”

  “You aren’t getting out of this yet.”

  She sat up, wincing. “Out of what?”

  “Life with me.”

  Kara still appeared to be in pain, but her smile nearly stopped his heart. “You’re just a big mushy wuss,” she said, punching him weakly in the arm.

  The constriction around his heart eased a fraction, but it left a cold spot in his gut. Kara shouldn’t have survived that. The fact she was sitting up and talking—or rather mocking him—was nothing short of a miracle. Only Ash didn’t believe his father had anything to do with her quick recovery. No, her survival was due to Kara’s demon heritage.

  Demonic blood was acidic with powerful regenerative properties. It was one of the reasons the bastards were so hard to kill. Kara was stronger than a normal human—she knocked him out with a rock. That would be a challenge for a man twice her size. He should have guessed the truth back then.

  At least she doesn’t have an exoskeleton or diamond-tough scaly skin. “I’m taking you back to my place until you fully recover,” he told her, bending to help her stand.

  Kara started to speak, but getting up was painful enough to silence any arguments she might have made to reject his help.

  Together, they picked their way out of the basement dungeon. Despite the beating the angel trap had given him, he supported Kara the whole way, not letting her bear her own weight except when necessary.

  They climbed through the crack in the ceiling before she pulled away again. “I can make it on my own,” she insisted when he took her hand.

  “Not a chance,” he growled, wondering if there was enough room to pick her up again.

  There wasn’t. In fact, he was forced to bend over double, and then crawl through the narrow space between two fallen walls.

  “How in the world did you get to me?” he asked, feeling claustrophobic as they inched along.

  “It’s just a few more dozen yards, and then there’s an opening to another room. There’s a hole in the wall leading to a tunnel.”

  “And to the catacombs after?”

  “Yes.”

  That was a relief. “Once there, I will make my own way,” she repeated. “I want you to leave and go after those cabal traitors.”

  Why did she have to be so bloody independent? “Not until I’m sure you’re a hundred percent. You have no idea how much energy was running through that trap.”

  “I’m fine. Now get your tight angel butt through here.”

  “Through where?” Craning his head to peek around her, Ash spotted a narrow opening in the wall ahead. Once on the other side, he was able to stand.

  He immediately pulled Kara into his arms. “If I’d known you were going to get hurt like that, I wouldn’t have called you,” he whispered into her hair.

  Kara leaned back in his embrace to look at his face. “So you would rather have stayed trapped in a hole than see me hurt?” she asked in a please-be-practical tone before turning to lead the way.

  He followed, his heart heavy as the truth settled in his gut. “I’m not prepared to sacrifice you for myself or for the city—not again… Kara, what if we just left?”

  She stopped short in front of him just a few feet from the exit.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about getting the hell out of dodge. Let’s forget about the damn council and the fucking curse. We can leave together, eke out a life in the wasteland. Just the two of us.”

  Kara squeezed her eyes shut before opening them wide, as if she expected to see someone else standing there. “Who are you and what have you done with Ash?”

  He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and leaning against the rough wall of the cave.

  She walked up to him, studying his face intently. “You want me to run off with you—to forget everyone else and just leave?”

  “Yes.”

  Now she was starting to look concerned. He broke away from the wall. “I know you can’t do that. You don’t have to abandon your people, but I don’t have to keep trying to rescue this city from itself. We can take your people with us, and we can build a new home somewhere.”

  She stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “And we’re just supposed to leave Bastille to those bastards who tried to imprison you? What about the regular people who have to live under their rule? What happens when the next Firehorse rises? What then?”

  He put his hand on his breastplate, just over the scroll she couldn’t see. “I…I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  Almost losing her just now had shaken him to the core.

  Risking his life was one thing. God had created him to serve. Ash had entered the pact with Raphael well aware that breaking the curse might require the ultimate sacrifice. He’d been prepared to die taking down the demon king.

  But Kara was just a girl—well, mostly a girl. She had never asked for the burden placed on her shoulders.

  But the curse was tied to her. Ash might not have a choice but to let her court danger.

  Damn that bastard Amducious. It was too bad the demon king was dead. He’d like to kill him all over again.

  Kara stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick but fiery kiss before breaking into a grin. “Again, I’m not the one who let themselves get snatched by some pudgy penc
il pushers. I can take care of myself.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” he said after a long pause, guilt flaring. The slight pressure of the scroll under his breastplate burned like a brand, pushing him to act.

  Ash put his hand on his breastplate as if to hide it from her sight. Untangling the dark magic tormenting the city could very well cost them her life. Curse or no curse, he couldn’t picture a future without her now.

  “I guess you’re right,” he said slowly.

  Kara grinned. “Of course I am. Get used to that feeling.” She cocked her head. “What brought this on?”

  Ash almost reached into the breastplate for the scroll, but caution stayed his hand. Instead, he decided to share a different unpleasant truth.

  “If we succeed and break the curse, my banishment ends,” he reminded her.

  Understanding darkened her eyes. “Of course you’ll want to go back to Heaven. It’s what you’ve been working for all this time.”

  “It’s not a question of want. Not anymore,” he said.

  “Right,” Kara scoffed. “You deposed the demon king and took over the wardenship of Bastille to win back a place in Heaven.”

  “I thought it was where I belonged. But that’s no longer true. If I had the choice—if God himself asked me where I belonged today, I would tell him the truth. My place is at your side. I love you.”

  For a second, he thought Kara was going to punch him in the arm again. But she just gripped his hand. “And you don’t think you’re going to be given a choice? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I don’t really know what’s going to happen, but if the curse is broken, I could be recalled without warning. The Host is defined by their service. Being an angel means obeying orders. They might not ask if I want to stay. Unless things have changed, it wouldn’t occur to them to do otherwise.”

  Her expression dimmed. “I see…and if you left, you couldn’t come back?”

  “I don’t know. Passage to this plane is at God’s discretion. I could try to fall again, but with a flick of His wrist, I could end up on the other side of the world. I might be trapped in another cursed landscape for the rest of your life. It would be my punishment for defying Him a second time.”