by Kish Knight
In her head, Enya stirred, a light flutter. ‘Endo-Angels,’ drifted through her head. Even without Enya’s clarification, she had recognized them as Angels just from the eyes, but there was no way that they were the same as Isarin. They didn’t have the same presence.
The one on her right seemed to be the leader. His cold gaze glittered menacingly at Brielle.
“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, or what you want with me, but you know what? Just take whatever you want. If you’re here to rob us, just go ahead. Take all our money. I won’t call the police, in fact, take our cellphones when you go.” Brielle stood as still as a statue. She really wasn’t interested in testing her new powers against lightning bolts, celestial bullets or whatever else Angels had to fight with. Eyeing the pair warily, she muttered again, “Go ahead.”
The second Angel scoffed. Stiff as a statue, he said, “Brielle, Brielle, Brielle. We finally meet face to face. They said you were a good selection. But you are in violation.”
“I don’t even know you guys.” Wondering if no one outside the club had noticed their distress, Brielle stalled for time.
“Oh, but we know you, Brielle Acosta.” The second Angel looked over at his companion as if waiting for something.
“In fact,” interjected the other Angel, “we knew the second that you came into existence. But you failed to report in.” He frowned. “So, for that reason,” he continued, lifting one hand, “your time is up.”
For the first time, Brielle noticed the length of chain that had been concealed in his garment. Now, she saw that it was held loosely by the leader, one end attached to his belt. The free end was clipped to a brown collar, which appeared to be of rawhide or some material of that sort.
Seeing the collar, Brielle was suddenly nauseous. Roe, who seemed to have been in shock up until now, finally spoke up. “We have money. We’ll give it to you if you let us go.” She spoke loudly, as if hoping to get the attention of anyone around. But that was pointless; Brielle had already noticed that, even though they weren’t too far away from the entrance, club-goers weren’t paying attention. Which made sense, since most of the patrons would be demons and undoubtedly weren’t interested in helping those in distress.
Feeling her friend edge closer to her, Brielle did the same, truly sorry that she had dragged her innocent friend into this mess. Roe didn’t even have a clue what they were up against.
“You, Brielle Acosta, are being detained and taken into custody as an EverWitch. Within minutes of your conversion, you should have reported to a proper authority.”
Golden handcuffs appeared in the second Angel’s hands and with the next breath, disappeared and re-materialized around Brielle’s wrist tightly.
Trying in vain to break the cuffs, Brielle fought against her restraints.
‘Use the grimoire,’ Enya’s voice whispered.
Not having a clue what she meant, but desperate, Brielle called up everything inside, focusing especially on her right arm where the book had been stored. Before long, there was a loud rumble, though she wasn’t sure whether it had come from inside her head or outside. A buzzing sensation, not unlike being stung by thousands of tiny insects, expanded until it covered her entire body. With a loud POP, the golden cuffs shattered, pieces exploding away from her wrist.
One piece grazed the scratch on her inner arm, the one that Isarin had given her. The wound heated as it had done before, but this time, her entire body warmed with the heat from the area.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the swirling outline of the grimoire covering her arm from shoulder to wrist, and she could even feel her entire arm pulse with its energy.
The Angel frowned and in the next second, her best friend was clutched tightly at his side, iron grip around her bicep. “Brielle Acosta, you cannot shirk this duty. Until you report to us, we will keep your friend with us.”
“No!” Roe shouted, the end breaking on a heavy sob.
Then the Angels disappeared, taking her still-screaming friend along with them.
Stunned, Brielle gasped, heavy breaths through her mouth. Angels, NOT like her Angel, had just taken her friend. Where? She had no clue, and no way to track them. The only way to save her friend was to join the Angels’ side in the war, but unfortunately, she needed to remain unaffiliated for at least the next two days, in order for Katse to keep his end of the bargain to her.
She needed help.
The inside of her arm still pulsed, and without knowing what else to do, she gazed down at it. The scrape was vivid against her skin.
“Isarin?” she whispered softly. To her relief, the handsome Angel appeared, his powerful physique an immediate comfort.
“You called?”
In that moment, she couldn’t speak, all of the recent events racing through her brain. Wanting to tell him what had happened, she took one step forward and stopped. And swayed.
Cautiously, she tried again. And was hit by a wave of dizziness that she couldn’t fight. Brielle shook her head as if to clear it, and watched the Angel’s expression become worried.
“Are you okay?”
‘I-,’ Her goal was to make it to his arms before-
Black edged her vision, and the world began to fade before her eyes. “….the grimoire….they took her,” she whispered.
The last thing she noticed before darkness claimed her was Isarin’s arms encircling her as she collapsed into them.
CHAPTER 8
Awakening was excruciating. The more she struggled to escape the blackness, the more it tried to claim her in its grip. She felt she was being dragged under by hundreds of little fingers, clawing and clutching her, pulling her back down.
Struggling to cling to wakefulness, she focused on the fact that she was on a slick surface, and very wet. Water lapped against her skin, and her fingers made little splashes as they moved. Familiar fixtures and tile patterns appeared through the slits of her eyes. Her hotel. Somehow, she had made it back there and was propped in the huge jacuzzi tub.
Slipping in and out of consciousness didn’t help. As she felt herself sliding toward blackness again, she flopped forward into the water. Just in time, an iron grip kept her from sliding under. Isarin’s arms held her in a tight hold as he shook her briskly. “Brielle! Wake up!”
Her mouth tried to form words but didn’t. “Uggmh-,”
His arms shook her some more. “You must have it! Where is the grimoire? This is what is hurting you!” Then, through her haze, she felt his fingers slide at her inner wrist, and then press. Pain shot through her left arm, and she shrieked, the agony like none that she had ever experienced.
Suddenly alert as all her senses snapped together, Brielle looked around wildly, seeing everything anew. Then she realized that she and Isarin were both drenched to the skin, clinging together in her bathtub. She looked at the Angel, deliberately overlooking the fact that his muscular arm pressed against her breast, since one, he’d probably just saved her life and two, it felt damned good.
She had every intention of demanding answers from him, but surprised herself as she leaned into his embrace and whispered, “How did we get here?”
Perhaps, the link between her brain and mouth was broken, since she had fully intended to shout the question.
“You collapsed outside The Nest nightclub, which I’m sure you already figured out is a demon’s nest.” His words were chastising, but surprisingly his tone wasn’t. Very gently, Isarin moved a lock of her hair away from her face and brushed it back behind her ear. “Why were you there?”
Nope, she hadn’t realized that the name of the establishment was an accurate description of The Nest, but whatever. “I had a meeting.”
“A meeting?” The Angel stood suddenly, lifting her along with himself and swung them both out of the tub. Cradled in his arms as she was, Brielle started to tell him to dry off before entering the carpeted adjoining room. But her protests halted in her throat. As they crossed the threshold into the next room, a gentle wind
blasted their clothes dry, undoubtedly one of Isarin’s celestial abilities.
“That’s awesome,” she smiled.
“What is?”
“We just….got dry.”
His smile was sweet. “Yes,” he said softly. He deposited her on the bed easily.
“Now, who did they take? And who took her? What happened tonight?”
Brielle only shook her head. “Not yet.” Her body ached, all over, though the pain was beginning to ebb away. She was grateful for that. She didn’t hurt as much as when she had first awakened in the tub. Then the pain had been excruciating. “I hurt.”
“I know. You almost died. I had to-….bring you back.” His tone was gentle.
Her brow knitted. “Bring me back? How?”
His fingers lightly traced the edges of her jaw. “Don’t worry about that. There’s a lot to discuss. Just concentrate on re-gaining your strength.”
But she was curious. What had he done? CPR? Was that something Angels were trained in? For some reason, there was a memory niggling at the corners of her memory, something that she wanted to remember.
Enya and Mortimchka had been in her head enough times for her to pick up certain things. What she’d learned was that demons had the ability to pull memories out of people’s heads. All that was needed was a touch and a wishful thought.
‘Asmordin siana pou.’ And for some reason, now she could understand Mortimchka’s odd demon language. He had been trying to pull her memories this morning. Like she was about to pull Isarin’s. She laid her hand over the Angel’s, and whispered the demonic words under her breath.
A sudden flurry of emotions assaulted her senses, even as her mind was filled with strange memories of….of…..
Brielle froze against the pillow.
A memory of Isarin’s lips on hers, clear as crystal. Clear as if it had happened no more than an hour before.
Her breathing was stopped, and her power was drained to nil. He was kissing her, and every time he kissed, some of his power bolstered hers. Like a jumpstart, only it was her life. Then, soon, her quick breaths began to draw under his lips, and he knew he could stop. But reluctantly, he let his lips linger maybe a second too long. Because though he tried to deny it to himself, she was intoxicatingly attractive. And he’d never felt this way about anyone before, not Angel nor EverWitch.
Just as quickly, the images stopped, leaving her gasping. Brielle was speechless, but now that her memory was jolted, she could vaguely feel the lingering sensation of his hands sliding along her lower back, up…..
She just stared at him in shock. Isarin, realizing that something was wrong, studied her concerned. “What’s wrong?”
He began to stand, and she immediately sat up, grabbing his wrist. “No.”
“Then wha-,”
Then, before he could finish, just as suddenly as the urge hit, she took his mouth in a kiss. What began as passionate curiosity, soon turned to a sensual exploration of tongues and lips, as Brielle pulled him down to the bed with her. Everything around them in the room was gone, swept away in the flood of swirling emotions, urgent gasps of breath, and pounding heartbeats.
Isarin broke the kiss. “Brielle, we-,”
“-should,” she finished. But the moment was broken as the room around them returned, along with her senses which helpfully confirmed that she and Isarin lay together in her bed, in a very compromising position. They also told her that Isarin wasn’t as unaffected as he claimed, simply from the powerful leg that was wedged between hers, and the hand that still gripped her hip possessively.
He shook his head, voice barely a whisper, “We shouldn’t.” Even so, his head dipped until their lips brushed as he spoke.
“Why?” she asked against his mouth.
“I can’t-,” he began, before changing his track, “-you’re not well,” he finished instead.
“I’m fine now,” she replied slyly, trying to slip in another kiss. “You fixed me.”
Isarin deftly avoided her lips. “Brielle, you don’t realize how badly you were hurt. You were dying when I found you outside of that club.”
She shook her head. “Uh uh. Hello, EverWitch over here, remember? I’m pretty sure that one of my new features is invincibility. Hard to kill, and all of that other good stuff.”
“But you can die,” Isarin informed her, “if you get drained. It’s like what bleeding out would do to humans. Getting drained involves all of your magic seeping out of you. That’s what was happening to you. What I did was basically put a magical Band-Aid of my energy where it was needed. But what caused it, I don’t know. So, you only have a magical patch holding you together.”
Brielle frowned. “That’s not sexy. I really almost died?”
“Yes.”
She sighed. That sucked. Definitely a mood-kill. She cheered herself by focusing on his supple lips. If she was lucky, she might get another kiss out of him before he put his guards back up. “Oh well, oh hell. You still fixed it. So, give me another reason why.”
“Because,” he said as Brielle noted that he made no attempt to get up, “when I brought you back here, you were going in and out of consciousness, but you kept saying ‘by noon tomorrow’. Does that have anything to do with your meeting at The Nest earlier?”
“Shit! Yes!” Brielle squirmed beneath him, and finally Isarin shifted so that she could sit up in bed. The memories had all come flooding back to her. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Isarin sat up as well.
Already, she knew that he wouldn’t approve of what she had done. Not that she wanted to admit to it either, especially after their intimacy a few moments earlier. But she had no choice, since now two people’s lives were on the line. “My meeting tonight was with Katse, the demon that you saved me from. I told him that I can provide the grimoire for him by tomorrow at noon. In return, he will help me save my nephew’s life.”
Isarin’s face showed displeasure. “What have you done?”
Brielle made a face of her own. “I had to do what I had to in order to save my family.” It still felt odd saying it.
“But you made a bargain with Katse?”
“Yep.”
“Katse is part chaos demon. Any bargain that he makes will have disastrous results on the other end.”
She frowned. “Everything seemed pretty straightforward. I give him the grimoire, and he gives me back my human body for 24 hours in time for my nephew’s operation.”
Eyes closed for several seconds, Isarin mumbled something under his breath which sounded like a short prayer. Then he looked right at her. “That’s what you missed. A human body can’t handle the powers that you have. If he returns your body to human, you will go mad within hours. At which point, you will need to bargain with him to change you back. For a price. Guess what that will be?”
Her heart sank. “Joining the demons’ side in the war.”
His look told her that she was correct.
But there was something that was bothering her about all of it. The pair that had kidnapped her friend, Endo-Angels or whatever, were wayyy too different from Isarin. They almost didn’t even seem to be the same species, aside from the stoic demeanor and insanely perfect physique. Where Isarin was passionate and involved, the two Endo-Angels had been cold and domineering. There was something going on that she was missing. “Then, you know what? Fill me in on everything. I know that you’ve been leaving out parts of what’s really going on. Tell me the real story, Isarin. Everything. Why is the grimoire so important?”
The Angel stared at her for several long seconds and then nodded slowly. “Our creator created people, then created magic as a gift. Magic was prevalent, several species existed solely on magic, Angels and Demons being some. Due to the demonic rise, the creator saw the need to remove magic completely and this became the world that you know: one without magic. All Angels were trained to drive back those who wanted to ensure magic’s survival, and destroy the source of all magic. That became our life’s mission, even though
it is a suicide mission. Destroying the source of magic means death to any creature dependent on magic, which we Angels are.
That’s what we did. Until the first of us began falling dead, magic siphoned into the void. After so many decades of driving out magic, we hadn’t been enlightened to the fact that we be killed in the process. Dishonorably so, since there is no honor in simply falling dead without a battle.
Some of us, like Enya and I, disagree with the decision to end all magic, and in the process, end ourselves. Besides, it is a faulty plan. After centuries of studying demons, I’ve learned that they always find a way. So, if we kill ourselves to end magic, I have a good idea that magic, and the demons, will find a way to still exist.