Forbidden Angel

by Chantal Cross

  Because he could have chosen any single one of them, or all of them together.

  And I still would have run here like the hounds of hell were on my heels.

  24

  Arrius

  I can’t believe how tiny and delicate she looks.

  It should be enough to stimulate my angel nature into compassion. She looks so helpless. I look down on her from my great height, thinking how she looks sweet and tiny, kind of like a ladybug.

  As cute and gorgeous as those things are, they destroy gardens. Their appetite is ravenous. They are also ridiculously easy to squash.

  I stand over her a few minutes more, thinking how easy all of this was. I didn’t expect her to be so gullible, that she would come so quickly without any planning or advice, or that she would actually, foolishly come out into the dark woods by herself.

  Of course, she didn’t know she was up against an angel. Sure, she’s killed one before. But not an archangel. I wonder if she would have hesitated if she had known. If her passion for Leo would have blurred her judgment so badly, she would just blunder into danger without thinking about it.

  I love catching her off guard like this. I can sense her magic rising, but it’s not as strong as it was by far. I don’t need to worry about her hand to hand skills. She’s far too weak to engage me for even a short time.

  She’s at my mercy, and so is her foolish lover.

  Unclean. All of them. Dripping with filth. They need cleansing fire. Not just these two but the whole school. Maybe even the whole world.

  It’s been a long time since God brought down a mighty apocalypse. It’s way past time for thinning the herd.

  I put my focus back on little Ebony. She cowers before me, shoulders hunched in and mouth pulled into a line. Her eyes are big and bright like a rabbit. I feel like the fox, teeth bared, ready to rend the sweet flesh into pieces.

  But that’s not what I’m here for.

  “So, why do you want to kill me? Is it just like everyone else? You might as well get in line. I’ve died like, twice now. It just doesn’t stick. You should know that.”

  “I don’t want to kill you, Snow.”

  “What?” She seems so shocked by this; she actually loses her balance. I’m slightly disgusted. This is going to be too easy.

  I was hoping for a fight and a decent one at that. She’s pathetic.

  “Well, the order of Unitas is involved here. Heard of them? They fight to prevent evil manifesting in the world. They have quite a fascination with you, my dear and they won’t stop. They are relentless. I’m supposed to be working with them, but I have plans of my own. I don’t take orders from anyone—especially not a human order.”

  She looks more confused than ever. It makes her shrink, enhancing the feeling she is a bug cowering before my boot.

  “What are you talking about? Are you here to save me? Why kidnap Leo and hurt him, if you want to help me? Why would you do this?”

  “Well, it’s not about helping you, actually. Well, in one sense, it would help you out quite a lot. You would lose the thing that everyone wants to kill you for. You would be beyond their reach, all of them.”

  “That sounds pretty good.” She says warily, eyes darting between Leo and me like she’s calculating distance.

  “Don’t even try it,” I mutter under my breath. “You’ll never be fast enough.”

  She gulps, taking a step back, eyes big and round.

  “I want your magic for myself, basically. You have a great well of untapped power inside you. I think it would be a simple matter to transfer it. An angel such as myself shouldn’t covet power or cultivate pride. Still, it’s something I cannot hide any longer. I mean, look at me.”

  I flex my wings and my arms, spreading them out either side of me. Heavenly golden light glows through my skin, reflecting off my wings and across Ebony’s face. The light flashes like sun’s rays across water, making the lines of light distort and twist in its reflection.

  “I am of the highest order of angels. My power is already great. With your magic on my side, it will be an absolute.

  “That sounds like it would hurt me.” She raises her chin defiantly. “Why should I let you take my magic?”

  “You really have no choice, my dear.” I shake my head at her, false disappointment coloring my face. “I’m not asking. I will have it, like it or not.”

  She takes a step back, evenly distributing her weight between her feet. Getting ready to fight. Foolish. Reckless.

  “You aren’t thinking this through, Ebony.” I give her a condescending tone to go with my expression. “It’s best for everyone you do as I say.”

  “What do you mean, best for everyone? How is it best for me?”

  “Well. It might not be, for you personally. But everything would stop. Your friends would no longer be in danger.”

  She raises her eyebrows, not getting closer but looking like she wants to.

  “Explain?”

  “All you need to do is come willingly. Submit to me. I’m going to take you to the queen. When I take your magic, and she takes your body, you see how the danger is reduced? She wants you because of your magical power—she wishes to own it. I can ensure she never gets it. By making it mine.”

  Her brow furrows more in sadness and loss than in confusion.

  “I still don’t understand.”

  I shrug at her, not caring. “It’s not necessary for you to understand. I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this. I wanted to give you a chance to make a choice. It’s so much better for you if you agree.”

  Behind us, Leo lets out a muffled cry. His lip must be swelling from one of the blows I gave him.

  “Don’t do it… Ebony. Don’t.” His message comes out muffled.

  She looks at him with determination, then back at me. Defiantly, she shakes her head.

  I lean forward, smiling.

  “If you give your magic to me, it’s easy and painless.” I’m lying, but she doesn’t know that. Giving it is still not as bad as having it taken. “It’s like giving a gift. You offer it up, with complete trust and submission. You’ll feel a small sense of loss, but other than that, you won’t miss it.”

  I lean even closer, whispering for effect.

  “If I have to take it from you, it will burn your blood. I will strip your magic from you piece by piece, cell by cell. It will feel like being skinned by incredibly sharp, burning blades. You will feel your life force being drained. There will be nothing left but a shell.”

  As I step back, she straightens.

  “If you are giving me to Rhiannon, does it even matter? I’m a shell to be inhabited whichever way it goes.”

  “Well, what matters is the process, of course. I don’t want to cause you unnecessary pain. I’m an angel, after all.”

  “You’re no angel! You’re a demon!”

  I have to laugh at that. I can’t stop. My mirth rumbles around the clearing, and I actually have to lean forward and lean on my knee.

  “You think I’m a demon, just because I have the ability to inflict pain? My dear girl, haven’t you read the Bible? I am God's archangel, Arrius. Sent to earth to spread his wrath. We are the enforcers, it’s practically our only job, to inflict pain.”

  “How, then, can you be heavenly beings?” Her voice is small, shaking, frightened.

  “Because humans and magicians alike need to be cleansed. It is simply the work of balance. God had to create angels that could do his work, including the dirty work.”

  “Why do you think Rhiannon will take my body when the magic is gone? You said yourself that she wants my power, my magic. Why would she be interested in possessing me if you take the thing she wants the most?”

  “Ah, clever little thing, aren’t you? She will still want your body, for no other reason than you are Snow White. I never said I was going to take you to her as a broken husk, just that it was one of the things I could do to you if you resist.”

  “So…?” She's starting to sound a lit
tle bratty. It’s pissing me off.

  “A deal can be struck.” My voice cracks around the clearing, really angry now. I’m getting impatient. Too many questions. She’s delaying me, distracting me. “What happens between the queen and me is none of your business. I think I’ll just take you in there like a mindless dummy. You talk too much.”

  She stares up at me defiantly and opens her mouth to say more.

  No more questions. I’m done.

  With all the power of heaven under my wings, I leap at her. I see her terrified face as her arms come up. She’s ready to fight. But she’s no match for me.

  25

  Seth

  The night is cool, but I feel hot. My own sweat is irritating me, itching me. I can’t stop tossing and turning. My bed is usually so quiet, a refuge. Some days, I can’t get out of it. That’s part of my nature, I guess. I’d rather be lounging than fighting or playing sport.

  It’s like something is scratching at the back of my mind, tugging at me. I can’t make it go away. I keep rearranging my position, kicking off my blankets then my sheets, turning over my pillow. Nothing makes it settle down.

  It’s that instinct, that tells me something is very wrong.

  Even mortals have this gut instinct. They left the stove on, forgot to lock the door, or put fuel in the car. For me, it’s usually very bad news.

  I try to lay still, attempting to relax my body. I go through recent events in my mind, wondering what could possibly be going on that would make me feel like this.

  I want to hunt Ebony down and see if she’s okay. Feelings this strong are usually to do with her. But like the ordinary humans who drive all the way home to find the door is locked and the stove is off, I don’t want to be accused of being paranoid.

  After our time in the garden, I know she’s wary of me, anyway. No matter what is happening with her, I won’t be welcome.

  I feel bad about what happened. Truly I do. I never thought I could go that far. Having her so close to me, so succulent and sweet, I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like being addicted. After feasting on her energy and touching her whenever I want, I’m a man in a prison now.

  I can’t bear for her to remove herself from me.

  I toss again, desperate for sleep. I know, the harder I chase it, the less likely it is to come. My frustration builds, and I’m getting really pissed off. I don’t want to get up and try to burn off the energy—I just want to sleep.

  As I close my eyes and start sinking into the pillow, my body tingles all over. Sweet release. I’m slipping out of consciousness, and finally, I can rest my mind and body after the stressful day.

  Just as I’m about to truly break with reality, my body jerks awake, actually coming a few inches off the mattress as if it burnt me. I cry out in frustration, pounding the pillow.

  My dreams. That’s what’s causing this.

  Part of my body is refusing to sleep because of the dreams.

  I know I’m being chased in the darkness. I know it’s frightening, and I can’t get to anything that gives me strength. Normally, I wouldn’t stand for being chased. I would turn and face my foe, ready to fight anything that thinks it can stalk me.

  But in these dreams, I can’t turn around. I can’t stop. I can only flee. With every step I take, I just get more panicked. The fear builds in every breath, blooming in my chest until I can’t breathe.

  When I wake, I can’t remember anything that happened, except the looming danger, the terrible fear. The all-consuming anger that something—anything—was able to chase me like that. That something put enough fear into me to make me run for my life.

  I don’t run for my life; I fight for it.

  I change positions again. I lie flat on my back. Closing my eyes, I take several controlled, deep breaths. I let my breathing fall into a pattern and work on releasing all my muscles as I exhale.

  I try to think of things that give me pleasure. Reading. Eating. Ebony’s smile. Even as it brings me pain, it also gives me joy. I feel a smile stretching across my face as I finally begin to relax.

  I sink, through the heavy dark layers. It’s soft. It’s velvet. I’m going.

  Then, far away with my warriors’ senses, I hear a tiny scrape in the room. It’s a heel of a boot scraping on stone.

  Someone’s in my room!

  My body comes awake quickly, though my mind is full of fog. I sit up abruptly, but I’m not fast enough—something grabs me by the shoulders.

  In the faint light of the stars, I see a face close to me. I feel fingers digging into my arms. I can see the grin stretching over bared teeth.

  “Wrath.” It comes out as a strangled gasp. He’s going to kill me. This is the last time I dismiss my instincts as paranoia. I’ll be checking my corners with floodlights after this.

  If I survive. Funny how the mind makes plans for the future, even when your doom is looming over your head.

  “We need to have a little chat, Sloth my boy.” His voice is low and mocking, melodious, and convincing. As much as the threat of him sets me on edge, his voice comforts me. It makes my head spin.

  He digs his fingers into me even harder and tugs on me hard. I feel myself being scraped against the hard-stone floor, but only for a few seconds. We are wrapped in magic, something dark and twisting that sticks to me like jellyfish tendrils.

  When we stop moving, I blink hard. I’m in a large room. It’s all stone, like the school. It doesn’t look like any room I’ve ever seen before.

  There are chains hanging from the walls. On some of them, the cuffs are bloody and dark stains spread down the wall. I can hear water trickling somewhere outside. The place is silent, dark, and dangerous. Pain seems to reek in the air.

  “Where are we?”

  “Never you mind. We are in my house, that’s all you need to know. I’m not going to share my exact location with you, at least, not yet.”

  I look around again, seeing a rumpled bed far off in the corner and a small table with a hunk of bread and a few pieces of fruit. So, Wrath is truly manifest. He needs to eat and sleep like any physical being. He probably doesn’t need much, but it means he has limitations.

  None of it matters. Calculating the odds, thinking about his weaknesses. There is no point.

  I can’t beat him. If he’s brought me here to kill me, I’m dead. That’s all there is to it.

  I wish I could have seen Ebony one last time. Just to apologize, to give her my love. I realize now that it should have been unconditional from the start. Maybe if I supported her instead of getting jealous and petty, she wouldn’t have pulled away from me.

  Too late for that now, too late for everything.

  Wrath comes over, gripping the hair on my forehead. He pulls my head back so he can stare me in the eye. He hasn’t bound me, but it’s not like he needs to. Even if I could get away from him, where could I run that he can’t follow?

  I realize how vulnerable we have been all this time. That Wrath could just show up like this and take me in the night. He could have taken Ebony away, right from under our noses. Sure, she gives him some trouble, but we have truly underestimated his power.

  “I brought you here to talk, brother.” He twists my hair a little more, then lets me go. He takes a few steps back, turning away to show his contempt for me.

  “I have a proposition for you. I don’t need your help, of course, but I thought you could be useful to me. If you don’t bumble around and make a mess of my plan, that is.” He turns to me with a serious, hopeful expression. “Can you be trusted, brother?”

  I nod stupidly. Anything to get out of here.

  “I think we should join forces. We both want the same thing, and that is Ebony. I am… Trying to reduce collateral damage. I need an ace, something to change the equation. You could be that missing piece I need.”

  He grins, and I feel that everything he just said is false. He’s lying, just nonstop. I can’t think of a single reason why he would actually need me.

  “Why would I do that
, Wrath? I’m trying to protect Ebony. Even if I believed you—which I don’t—I’m not going to hurt her. No deal. I’ll never agree. You might as well kill me now.”

  He laughs, just a few sharp barks at the ceiling.

  “Oh, Seth, my boy. You don’t get it at all, do you? She’s never going to love you the way you need her to. She’s always going to split her attention. You’ll never get enough of her, not unless you join me. Then you’ll get as much as you want.”

  My mind becomes clouded as he speaks. He’s a liar, I know it. But his smooth tone is so convincing, my own fears so looming and monstrous, his words actually make sense to me.

  I’m not sure I’m ready to join him—not yet—but I’m definitely ready to listen.

  26

  Ebony

  I flip back from the archangel’s first attack and I barely get out of the way in time. I don’t have a weapon, and he hasn’t pulled one of his heavenly ones out. Whatever angels do to make the swords materialize out of nowhere as if they wait in the magical realm for their call.

  I guess, he’s decided I’m not worthy of a weapon. He’s going to subdue me without one. You only draw a sword if you are prepared to kill.

  I spin around, trying to circle him. He turns around, laughing. He leaps at me, wings high to give him lift and distance.

  “That is seriously unfair!” I scream at him as I throw myself on the ground. “I don’t have wings!”

  He shrugs.

  “Wings are earned Ebony dear. Perhaps if you had been more careful with your reincarnations, you could have attained them. In your early years here, you had an unparalleled purity. Wings would have been quite easy for you then.”

  He spins, flicking his hands against the ether. He’s going to draw a weapon I just know it.

  “Not a possibility now, my dear.” He shakes his head as he stalks towards me. “You would have to restart the reincarnation cycle all over again. Give up your ancient powers. Since you are fighting me to the death over that exact thing right now, I don’t see that happening.”