by S.B. Rodgers
He took a bite of the biscuit, munching quietly as he poured over the text documents that lay spread out in front of him. Gabriel dissected the bits of information, learning about his new charge and what he needed to save her life. He swallowed the mouthful of manna, washing it down with a swig of coffee.
He drummed his fingers as he read, knowing he would have to act quickly in order to save the girl. As unpleasant as the mission could turn out to be, he had one consolation. At least he would be out of his infernal office.
Chapter 4
The small Chinese restaurant was empty as usual, despite the beckoning neon-orange glow of the open sign. Through the spotlessly clean window passers-by could see the pristine, if dimly lit, interior. A mixture of small round tables and larger rectangular ones dotted the spacious dining area, each covered in a clean white tablecloth and sporting several small condiment bottles.
Though it was lunchtime and the restaurant was in the heart of Chinatown, not a single passer-by gave it more than a fleeting glance. There was something odd about the place. No one was ever seen entering the establishment, yet every day the lights went on, the sign lit up, and the restaurant waited. It waited until the lights dimmed and the sign was turned off. It waited, and no one came.
It was hard to grasp what it was that made it seem so strange, why no one would enter the restaurant, despite its cozy interior and a sign promising the best eggrolls in town. Perhaps it was the lack of a distinctive smell in the air around the place. There was a subtle smell, but one that was neither tantalizing nor repulsive. Something like the scent in the air after a snowfall, the place smelled clean; pure. Untouched, like the pristine interior. And yet, the lights went on and off each day, the Chinese characters on the sign for the Manna Buffet giving off a loud neon hum.
The ancient Chinese man, stooped with age, stirred as he heard a soft rustling noise announce his customer. He gently placed down the glass he had been polishing with a soft white cloth and looked up across the restaurant’s bar.
Materialising in front of him onto one of the old leather capped barstools was a young man he hadn’t seen in some time. A slight frown puckered his already heavily wrinkled features. “Gabe? What are you doing here? Last I heard,” He leaned forward onto the bar and picked up another glass to polish “you were on office duty.”
Gabe smiled politely, overlooking the old man’s use of his full name. “News doesn’t travel very fast down here, Fong.” The old man nodded his agreement.
“Indeed it does not, Guardian.” He placed the cleaned glass down with a clink. “There are not enough of your brethren passing through here these days for me to know everything I should.” The old man raised his hand, gesturing to the empty restaurant. “This place used to be teeming with angels like you, but now…” He shook his head sadly.
What Fong hadn't voiced was a fact known all too well to angels. With the world in a constant state of rising chaos, there simply weren't enough angels to fill the void. Missions where often assigned at the last possible moment, forcing Guardians to improvise. Though everyone from the lowliest messenger to the Archangels themselves doubtless felt the overwhelming desperation of the human population, in the never-ending battle between good and evil, good seemed to be losing.
“Aah, well,—I trust you are up to speed on your mission? There isn’t much I can do for you if you aren’t, not this time…” Fong trailed off, muttering something about the good old days and news.
Gabe nodded. “Of course; never leave home unprepared, and all that.” He stood, stretching his lanky frame and finger-combing his long blond hair away from his handsome features. “Now, if there isn’t anything else, I’ll be on my way.”
The little Chinese man looked up at the considerably taller teen. “One moment…“ Fong turned and rummaged around under the bar for a few seconds before he found what he was searching for.
“Here. Take this.” He handed Gabe a paper takeout menu for the Manna Buffet, with something scribbled on the back in pencil. Gabe examined it, turning it over in his hands and unfolding it.
“All in Chinese, Fong?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow at the old man, who coloured slightly but stood his ground.
“Safety measure—no humans eat here, and demons are not known for their linguistic skills.”
“I know—I was just teasing you.” Gabe said with a chuckle. He turned and walked towards the exit and pushed open the door. He turned back, leaning in the door frame “See you later, Fong!”
Fong watched Gabriel leave and shook his head, calling out as the door slid shut “Don’t lose that paper!!” He frowned and turned, half-heartedly deciding to polish more of the bar glasses. Anything, he thought, to pass the time.
* * *
Raph strode into the classroom, his serious mood evaporating as the human girl, Brittany, waved at him. “Hey, Raaaaph,” She smiled fakely at him as she pressed herself to Jason’s side. “You missed some fun at lunch!” She emphasized shooting a pointed glance towards Abby.
The demon smirked at Brittany. “Sorry I missed it!” he exclaimed. Any misery his target was put through made things easier for him, in the long run. If humans could do his dirty work for him, who was he to complain? Less blood on my hands anyway, he thought.
The concerned voice of Jason broke Raph’s train of thought “Dude, Raph—what happened to your face?” Raph brought his left hand up to his jaw, gently tracing the indented scabs there. The twins and Brittany stared at him as he drummed his fingers over the scratches thoughtfully.
“Oh, nothing much—You should see the other guy.” Raph snorted.
The twins glanced at each other uneasily. “Who would be dumb enough to pick a fight with you? I know I wouldn’t want to piss you off!” Jason said.
“Me neither, man. Guy must’ve been crazy.” Tyler added, refusing to be left out of the conversation.
Raph grinned in approval as he took his seat at the back of the class, where he could watch everything and everyone. Abby, a few seats away from him, looked over her shoulder, quickly turning away when she saw him.
She obviously wanted to avoid conflict—she was nearly broken, and it showed in her manic eyes when she looked back. The glance had only taken a second. That second was all that Raph needed.
Leaning forward, he gripped the far edge of his desk and turned his body sharply to the right, facing towards Abby. The desk shifted with him, the plastic feet squealing in protest as they dragged across the worn tile floor. The girl’s shoulders stiffened visibly under her shirt at the noise, and did not relax after it had stopped. She could feel Raph’s eyes on her, sensed his feral grin, and she hunched inward on her desk, trying desperately to ignore him.
Raph opened his mouth to say something poisonous, just as the classroom door opened. A powerful shiver ran down the demon’s spine, and his gaze snapped to the front of the room.
A young man strode casually into the classroom, following closely in Ms. MacDonald’s footsteps. The middle-aged, slightly frumpy English teacher beamed as she addressed her students. “Attention please, people! Raph, straighten your desk.” Raph ignored her, still in his half-twisted seat, neck craned as he stared, transfixed, at the guy at the front of the class.
Not just any guy, he thought, mind racing. Far from it, in fact. He couldn’t believe the amount of unworldly power emanating from the teenager before him.
“Damn it.” Raph cursed under his breath, looking murderous.
“Pardon me, Raph; did you say something?” Ms. MacDonald asked sharply.
Rolling his eyes, he waved his hand dismissively. He dragged his desk back, away from Abby’s. The teacher nodded her approval and continued with her announcements. Raph feigned interest in the textbook in front of him as the teacher began to introduce the tall young man beside her.
“Everyone, we have a new student joining us today—I’d like you all to say hello to Gabriel Ward!”
All eyes in the room were trained on the newcomer. A few
of the guys in the class offered half-hearted nods of greeting, while most of the girls eyed the handsome stranger appreciatively. Raph stared covertly up from his book, unnerved by the appearance of such a powerful opponent—he had hoped that his efforts to collect Abby would go unnoticed. Of course, he thought bitterly, I’m not that lucky.
* * *
“So, Gabriel, would you like to say a few words about yourself?” Ms. MacDonald smiled up at the good-looking boy.
“Sure,” He replied. A frenzy of muffled giggles and excited whispers spread amongst the girl in attendance at the sound of his sophisticated British accent. “Hi, I’m Gabe.” he paused briefly to pull his long silky blond hair back, out of his eyes. Some of the girls in the room sighed as it rippled over his shoulders and settled down his back. Brittany leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of curiosity and longing. “I just moved to Washington a few days ago, so any help finding my way around is much appreciated.”
Ms. MacDonald nodded her agreement. “Well, we will have to assign someone to show you around.”
Gabe’s eyes swept the room as he looked at his new classmates. He spotted her right away, the only girl with her hand not raised in the air. Instead she seemed to be busy scribbling away in the margins of her notebook. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second. In that second, Gabe felt the connection between them surge, felt the pulse of the life that now depended on him.
“Well then, Gabriel, welcome to Walkley academy, one of the foremost private schools in the country. You may take the empty seat behind Abigail.” She indicated the small brunette, oblivious to the fact that Gabe had willed her to assign him that very spot.
“Now, who should I choose to be Gabriel’s guide? I’ll need someone to catch him up in the course, show him around campus and answer any questions he might have.” She smiled, first at Gabe and then at Brittany, who smiled back smugly, knowing that she was always picked for this sort of thing.
“Of course, I’ll pick Br—Abby!” Her voice broke and changed to a high, wavering pitch, her eyes misting over briefly. Mrs. Macdonald’s body sagged forward and she blinked, confused and with a sudden pain in her temples. “I’ll—I’ll be right back, class. Please study quietly.” She staggered out of the classroom and headed down the hall.
As soon as she closed the door the class burst into loud chatter, students discussing everything but the coursework.
Gabe winced, knowing it was he who had caused her such discomfort. There was no helping that, however; Abby was his priority now.
Sensing her unease Gabe took his cue and walked up to Abby extending his hand in greeting. “Pleased to meet you…Abby is it?”
“Y-yes...” She squeaked, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor as she hesitantly shook his hand. At the mention of her name Abby’s mood had changed from indifference to panic. She had wanted to protest her new and completely unwanted responsibilities but Ms. MacDonald had left so quickly. Instead she sat staring fearfully up at the impossibly handsome stranger, trying to decide whether or not to follow the teacher’s example and run from the room.
“So, can we meet up after class to set up some sort of study schedule?” He asked, taking the seat behind her.
Abby nodded, albeit reluctantly.
Ms. MacDonald reappeared with a flourish of apologies for her sudden departure, explaining that a sudden headache had sent her to the nurse’s office for medication. Within moments class was underway and the finer points of Shakespeare’s Hamlet were being dissected.
Ignoring the lecture entirely, Raph stared at Gabe. With a dangerous glint in his eye, Raph leaned forward and whispered in his opponent’s direction. “Well played, Guardian.” He hissed, knowing that the humans in the room were unable to process the sound of the demonic language.
Gabe bristled slightly, responding in kind. “Fair warning, Thief: resign your mission. Try anything, and I’ll destroy you.”
Raph heard the powerful threat in the Guardian’s tone, sensing the barely-bridled power behind it. He covered up his hesitation by leaning back in his seat and giving a snort of derision. He wouldn’t let this guy intimidate him; not openly, at least. “This will be an interesting game, then, Guardian.” He smirked at the angel.
Yawning in boredom Raph flipped casually through his textbook for the remainder of the class, fingers tapping on the desk’s surface, counting down …3…2…1. The bell rang loudly, signalling the end of the period.
Before the bell had even finished ringing, Abby raced from the room. Gabe blinked as she retreated; he had no time to react. Gathering his books, Gabe took his leave of the classroom, passing through the hallways and keeping his keen eyes peeled for the cute little brunette.
Instead, he spotted the demon leaning on his locker amidst a group of friends. Raph turned his head, watching the Guardian as he passed. “You won’t win.” He hissed, his eyes flashing red with anger.
“Just watch me.” The angel grinned confidently at him as he walked past, still looking for Abby Shepard.
Chapter 5
He leaned against the polished onyx pillar, arms crossed over his muscular chest. He was like a lion; beautiful, regal, and very, very dangerous. His dark-eyed gaze was trained on the scene playing out in front of him within Satan’s personal chambers.
“Do not fail me!” Satan’s voice boomed. A flash of angry orange light filled the room, casting her in a ghastly pallor.
He waited for her to release the boy-wondering idly if it was one of his own children-and close the connection. He strode towards her on silent feet, taking advantage of her distracted state.
She didn’t know he was there until he grabbed her from behind, encircling her slim middle and pinning her arms to her sides with one strong arm. His free hand covered her mouth, muffling her scream and pinning her head against his chest.
She snarled and grunted, trying to squirm away from her attacker. Her struggles were no match for his iron grip. Becoming increasingly desperate to free herself, Satan jerked her head upwards, hitting him mid chest. Cursing, he loosened his grip just enough for her to find the soft flesh between his thumb and finger with her teeth. He snarled in pain as she bit down hard, drawing blood.
Fighting for control he drove his hand further into her mouth, her head making contact with his chest once more. “BE STILL!” he ordered, his voice seething with fury.
Her eyes opened wide in shock at the sound of his voice, her struggles ceasing instantly. “Lucifer?” she gulped, diction heavily impeded by his hand.
They remained like this for several seconds, Satan pinned against him, showing none of her previous fervour for escape, Lucifer holding her tightly, his blood dripping down her white throat.
Lucifer looked down at her, the hint of a smirk playing across his lips. “Are you going to behave?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. She nodded her head slowly.
Satisfied with that, he removed his hand slowly. She tilted her head upwards, watching his handsome face as he examined the damage. “You little minx, look what you've done.” He whispered, his tone unreadable. “What shall I do with you?” he mused, enjoying the growing fear in her large green eyes.
“Should I punish you and make an example, or be merciful and take my anger out on some other poor soul?” He said, casting a fleeting glance toward the slave chained in the corner of the lavish room.
Realising his intent, she became desperate to soothe her mate’s damaged pride.
“Forgive me my lord. I didn’t realise it was you.” She pleaded.
“You didn’t realise it was me? My dear, when have I ever granted permission for any other to enter your chambers?” His face twisted in disgust as he gestured at the corner. “Other than your…pet.”
She wasn’t stupid enough to argue; she knew that the consequences to her and her slave would be dire. Experience told her to keep her tone apologetic and meek and soon Lucifer would calm himself.
When he looked down at her, cowering and
waiting for his wrath, he couldn’t be more pleased with her. He revelled in the fact that he could have that effect on her. She was fiery and, no doubt, as malicious and plotting as him. She was the only fallen whose beauty, intellect and power came close to his. There was just something about her that made him want her, made him yearn for her more than any other woman ever could. They were indeed matched souls.
He allowed himself to revel momentarily in the pleasant warmth of their contact. She was so tiny, he marvelled. Easily the shortest of the fallen. So much cunning and power in such a small package. He hung his head downwards, resting his chin on the crown of her head.
“Mine” he whispered huskily, placing a kiss where his chin had rested. He scooped her up and carried her across the room to the giant bed that waited there. Laying her down, he positioned himself beside her. Stroking the side of her body he drew her lips into a passionate kiss.
* * *
Satan knew the importance of moments like these. A king’s trust was difficult to earn, and nearly impossible to keep. He had dozens of mistresses of course, possibly even hundreds. She knew that. She didn’t let it bother her; who was she to make rules for the King of Hell? Besides, the benefits of her position far outweighed the costs.
His mistresses also served another purpose. Lucifer needed minions, demons of powerful bloodline who would be loyal to him alone. While these children could never become heirs due to their bastard status, they did inherit some of their father’s magnificent powers, making for a very potent personal army.
Satan allowed her eyes to drift momentarily over the beautiful creature chained in the corner. The thick black tattoos that bound it to her service began to gently pulse and glide across its flawless pale skin. Feeling a slight tickle as the markings sprang to life, the creature knew its mistress was thinking kind thoughts about it. It didn’t meet her gaze. It was smarter than that. It had learned long ago to stay quiet and still whilst Lucifer was present. Its desperate attempt to blend into the background was fuelled by fear of arousing the king’s abusive attentions.