by T. R. Hamby
Ceres
She didn’t want to go back there.
She hadn’t been afraid of death when she had been alive. It had been a very real inevitability for her; Father would never let an evil creature like her live forever. But if she had known what was coming, she never would have left the Immortal World.
And here she was now, a horrific version of her old self. Her mind was intact--haunted by the Place she had inhabited for mere weeks. But her body was different--rotten, mottled, putrid. Her eyes, where the eagle Barry had scratched, bled endlessly, staining her face and her armor. Her teeth and hair were falling out.
She was a fucking zombie.
And her body would continue to degrade until Michael’s son was dead. Father had made it clear: Kill the son, and regain Immortality. Never visit that Place again.
Trusting Father was difficult. Ceres knew he would turn on them in an instant if given a reason. And what reason would Father have to keep around a pack of murderous Angels?
But she had no choice. This was her only chance at life again, and she yearned for it desperately.
She shuffled the papers on the desk, then turned to the computer. There on the screen was a long list of residences and properties owned by Mel King. A very long list. Too long.
She looked over at the woman sitting strapped to a chair. They were in London, at Paul & Jansen LLP. Claire Jansen, ginger-haired and freckled, was Mel King’s attorney--or one of them, anyway. Ceres had tracked her down after searching the study in his house in Westminster.
“How many are there?” she demanded.
Jansen had tears in her eyes, but was putting up a good front. “Around fifty.”
Ceres growled. That was definitely too many.
She held her head in her hands. She longed to kill, but Father had been furious after Andreas Berg’s death. He had warned her not to do it again. She didn’t know why--except that the humans were his precious Creations. She supposed he didn’t want any of them wasted.
She took a deep breath, lifting her head.
She looked at her. “A safe house, maybe?”
“Any of them could be considered a safe house. He has money and weapons in all of them.”
Ceres clicked her nails--which were steadily peeling from her skin--over and over on the desk. Where would she go if she wanted to hide?
“How many of his locations are rural?” she finally asked.
Jansen looked surprised. “Not many. He prefers cities.”
“I’m sure he does,” Ceres replied dryly. “Pretty boy and his pretty houses.”
She caught sight of a picture frame on the desk, and seized it. “This is your family?”
Jansen shivered, and tears began to slip down her cheeks. “Please don’t hurt them.”
“I won’t,” Ceres said mildly, “if you keep your mouth shut.”
“I won’t tell him anything.”
“Good,” she said, tossing the frame back onto the desk, “because he can’t buy your twins back.”
Jansen closed her eyes, trembling beneath her bonds.
Ceres was unmoved. She looked at the list on the computer screen.
Then she hit Print. “I want you to circle all of the locations that are rural. Middle of nowhere. I’m assuming it’s not many.”
Jansen nodded quickly, eager to please, and once the pages were printed Ceres gave her a marker. Jansen circled eleven addresses, and handed the papers over.
Ceres’ lips twitched. Good. Progress.
She Traveled back to Ireland, leaving a crying Jansen huddled on the floor.
The group had taken over the cottage, shoving the furniture out of the way so they could sleep on the floor. It was Raziel, Horus and Valor, and four others, two they had only recently acquired: Ariel, Damien, Silas and Helga.
Ariel was an Angel killed by Michael and Melkira just in the last couple of years. Damien, conversely, was an Angel who they had dispatched nearly a thousand years ago. Helga had met them in Norway in the 800s. All were Angels who had hunted humans.
Silas, however, was different--Ceres had heard the stories told about him. He was the first Angel to ever die. He had become angry, almost inexplicably, and had tried to kill Michael. Melkira had jumped in to help, and had been thrown into the fire. He hadn’t been hurt. Silas, frenzied, had thrown himself into the fire, and burned.
He was a sight to see. Charred at the edges, with clouded eyes. Dead for hundreds of thousands of years, in that terrible Place.
“We have to split up,” she said, as they scowled at her.
She had made herself the leader, and they didn’t like it.
She ignored their glares. “We have eleven places to search, and there are eight of us.”
“Eleven isn’t much,” Raziel said. “You could get it done in a day.”
“How?” Ceres spat. “By knocking on doors? Only you would be stupid enough to do that.”
Raziel, whose neck bore a sickening wound, hissed with anger.
“We have to be stealthy,” she said to the group at large. “Get it? We can’t let them know we’re following them. So don’t make yourself obvious. As soon as they sense your Presence, you’re dead again.”
She assigned a place to each of them, adding the last three places to herself. That was four for her to look at. Almost three percent chance she would find them.
“Don’t just take a look and come back,” she said harshly, eyeing Raziel. “Stay and wait. Take time. Just because they’re not there the first day doesn’t mean they won’t be back.”
“The longer we wait, the faster we die,” Helga growled impatiently.
“Find a better way, then.”
Helga scowled.
They began to ready themselves to go. Father was watching them, and would Travel them to their desired place at a simple request.
Funny. Father could do such incredible things, and yet it was up to them to kill Gabriel. Very strange.
She caught Silas’ eye, and he looked back at her calmly.
She went over. There was something odd about him--some sort of strength that she could sense emanating from him. Some sort of….power. It intrigued her.
“What did Father say when he Raised you?” she asked him.
Silas looked at her with those grotesque, clouded eyes. “He offered me life. I took it.”
“That’s all?”
“Oh yes. I don’t have a choice….none of us do.”
Ceres felt a chill at the reminder. “Why did you fight with Michael that day? Why did you jump into the fire?”
She couldn’t contain herself. They were questions that everyone, including Michael himself, had often asked over the centuries.
Silas was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I have a Talent.”
“Go on.”
“I can see things--far into the future,” he said quietly. “Flashes. Glimpses. I saw what Michael would become.”
Ceres frowned. “A murderer?”
“Yes. The first. I saw what he did to Father’s Creation. I saw the War. I tried to stop it.”
“And then….”
And she paused, frowning. “You killed yourself? Why?”
Silas stared at her. “I didn’t. Father made me. He forced me to jump into the fire.”
Ceres felt another chill.
It didn’t make any sense. Father never forced anyone to do anything.
“Father had more control then,” Silas explained in his quiet voice. “Until Melkira ran away with his Creation. Then he lost it. That is why he makes deals now. He can’t influence us, so he barters with us instead.”
Ceres stared at him. She was, for once, speechless. It all made sense, but had been out of her mind’s grasp this whole time.
“So Father killed you to stop you from killing Michael. Does he know why you did it?”
“No,” Silas said, a twisted smile on his face, “he never asked. Too disgusted with me.”
“But he does now.”
He
shrugged, that smile still on his face. “Only if he’s listening. After all, he’s busy trying to contact Michael.”
“Why is he trying to contact Michael?”
He shrugged again, and Ceres was annoyed. “Can you see if we’ll kill Gabriel?”
He shook his head. He didn’t seem troubled, didn’t seem afraid, and Ceres wondered.
She would have to watch him.
Andreas
The breakthrough in the clearing seemed to have awakened Mel’s powers. He was getting better each day, forcing searing jets of fire several feet into the bellies of the snowmen Gabriel and Barry kept building. Each day was another foot away, another stronger bolt of flames.
Andreas was heartened by his progress, and soon seemed to be making some of his own. Although he couldn’t project his fire anywhere, he could make it crawl up his arms, and then eventually engulf them. It was better than nothing.
He and Roone went on as if nothing had happened, and he was relieved. If anyone found out about what they had done, there would be an uproar. And Andreas worried especially about Nora. How would she react, knowing one of her friends had betrayed her?
“I found another body,” Barry cried, bursting through the back door.
Everyone looked around at him. Andreas was on the sofa, reading, while Gabriel and Michael were talking nearby. Mel, Gilla and Nora were watching a movie, and Roone was in his room.
“What do you mean?” Mel breathed, although Andreas thought Barry’s meaning was quite clear.
They all stood as Barry entered the living area. “I mean I found a body. I was flying over Crampton--that estate with the Christmas tree farm--and I saw a body, right near Elle Road.”
“Shit,” Michael hissed. “That’s two in the same county.”
“I have to tell Hudson,” Barry said, almost frantic. “She has to know--”
“You’ll be even more suspicious if you tell her you found a body all the way on Crampton,” Mel replied firmly. “Make a call; give an anonymous tip.”
Barry deflated, but nodded. “Right. I’ll do that, then.”
“Just breathe,” Gabriel said soothingly, coming beside him and squeezing his arm.
“That’s really great of you, Barry,” Nora said gently. “Searching like that. It’s helping.”
Barry looked troubled, his eyes on the floor. “Doesn’t stop people dying,” he said.
He then turned and went upstairs.
Gabriel went after him, and Nora made a worried noise. Mel slipped his arms around her, and Michael and Gilla looked at each other.
Andreas stood there, a little awkward. He suddenly thought of his sister, and he felt an awful ache.
“Two bodies by Elle Road,” Michael said quietly. “The killer must be local.”
“Hudson won’t tell us where the other bodies were found,” Mel murmured.
Nora leaned into him, frowning. “If only there was a way she would let us help. If she could just trust us, be willing to break policy for us.”
“She’s already curious,” Andreas suggested, sitting back down. “She might consider it, if you offer your services in the right way.”
“We can’t interfere,” Mel said firmly. “We can’t go out into the open. We have to stay safe.”
Nora heaved a sigh. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s too dangerous.”
The group broke up after that. Gilla and Michael went upstairs, and Mel went out to feed the horses. Roone stayed resolutely in his room, which worried Andreas. He hadn’t quite noticed it before….but did Roone spend all of his spare time in that room?
Nora plopped down beside him, and he smiled, putting down his book. “Hej, darling.”
“Hej,” she replied. “Can I sit with you?”
“Of course.”
“I wanted to….you know, see how you’re doing after….that thing last week,” she said cautiously.
Andreas thought of that fight with Roone, and felt himself flush.
He cleared his throat. “And here I thought you just wanted to hear my charming voice.”
Nora smiled, a beautiful sight. “Are you okay, though?”
He sighed. He had gotten into scrapes before, but he had never been that emotional during a fight. His anger had been palpable, and it had had nothing to do with Roone. Of course, what Roone had done had been despicable….but even Andreas could see his remorse.
No. Andreas had been angry, heartbroken. His family was a phone call away, and he couldn’t speak to them. Would he ever feel his mother’s embrace again? Hear his father’s laugh, squeeze his sister’s hand? He had been looking so forward to being an uncle, and now that was gone, too.
He realized too late that there were tears in his eyes. He blinked, hoping Nora wouldn’t see, but she saw anyway.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, taking his hand and squeezing.
He brushed at his eyes; he didn’t want to cry in front of her. He didn’t want to cry in front of anyone.
In an effort to change the subject he said, “What are those scars on Roone?”
He realized too late that it was a stupid idea to bring up Roone with Nora. But to his relief she didn’t seem bothered. She was frowning, though--worriedly.
“He has this Talent,” she whispered, though it was unlikely her voice would carry all the way to his room. “It’s a horrible Talent….he can cause a lot of pain. The worst pain you can imagine.”
She paused, wincing, before continuing, “he was born with it. He couldn’t control it, and it hurt his parents so much that they dumped him with friends. The friends didn’t like him, and the children he grew up with bullied him all the time.”
She shrugged sadly. “He’s never really had a friend….never had anyone to love him. When he was young he started….hurting himself. To cope.”
Andreas was disturbed. He knew about Roone’s childhood, but hadn’t known he had hurt himself because of it.
Then he realized something, and he looked at her. “He used that Talent on you, didn’t he?”
Nora hesitated, and he swore under his breath. “Christ.”
“I know,” she said gently, “I know. But he was sick. He thought he was rescuing me. He didn’t do it to be malicious.”
Andreas sighed, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the fire for a long moment. He remembered being with Roone, and felt confused.
“I did a psychiatric rotation in medical school,” he said quietly. “I’m not a psychiatrist, but--he could have erotomania. A delusional belief that someone is in love with you. It can be dangerous.”
“Sounds familiar,” Nora said dryly, hugging herself. “He was always convinced I loved him. At least subconsciously. ‘It’ll take time,’ he always said.”
“He doesn’t seem to think that now.”
“Yeah,” she said warily, “he doesn’t. I just hope it lasts.”
“How are you?”
Nora looked at him and smiled. “I’m better.”
“Good. I can’t have my Nora unhappy.”
She grinned, and he kissed her cheek, heartened by that dazzling smile. “I’m going to bed. Good night, darling.”
“Good night. Please get some rest.”
“I will.”
But he couldn’t sleep. It seemed that everything was keeping him awake--Roone, Nora, his family, Ceres. He stared at the ceiling, and remembered the point of Ceres’ knife carving his flesh while he writhed.
He sat up, his heart racing. He looked down at himself. He didn’t have the scars that proved he had been tortured--those didn’t exist in Them’s Place. His body was free of Ceres’ touch.
He shook himself, checked the clock. One in the morning. He growled and got out of bed.
Maybe a walk. He could sneak apples to the horses.
But he came across Roone’s door, and he hesitated. He could feel Roone’s Presence, and he wondered if he was awake.
No, don’t do that, he told himself. Don’t be an idiot. Don’t do it again.
But before he could move the door opened, and Roone poked his head out.
He didn’t look surprised to see him. “Yes?”
Andreas stared, caught off guard. Roone was wearing a T-shirt and sweats, with bare feet and rumpled hair. It was cute, and Andreas was flustered.
“What are you doing awake?” he asked, the only thing he could think to say.
He couldn’t tell if Roone was annoyed or amused. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.”
“Did you want something?”
Andreas hesitated for a final moment. Then he heaved a sigh.
“Just let me in,” he said, and Roone stepped aside.
As soon as the door was closed they were on each other, rough again, tearing each other’s clothes off and tumbling onto the bed. Andreas needed it, needed the distraction, the intense pleasure. Roone was electric, something Andreas hadn’t expected. God, it was good.
Afterwards they lay on the bed, getting their breath back. Andreas couldn’t keep his eyes off Roone; he was gorgeous lying there naked.
Roone caught him staring and snorted.
“I didn’t say anything,” Andreas said.
He shrugged, staring at the ceiling.
Andreas wasn’t about to leave him alone. “Am I the first man you’ve slept with?”
Roone looked at him, surprised, and then smiled slightly. “No. I’ve been with many.”
“I thought you might’ve just been curious.”
Roone looked amused, staring at the ceiling again.
“Are all Angels bisexual?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, when you live long enough, you start to get….curious.”
“Ah.”
They were quiet a moment. Roone continued to study the ceiling, an indecipherable look on his face. Andreas lay beside him, confused, conflicted. He was fascinated, and full of questions he longed to ask. But he also felt guilty--he was officially sneaking around with Roone. He was breaking everyone’s trust. Them would be disappointed.
Maybe.
Andreas looked at him. “I can’t fight either.”
He wasn’t sure where the statement had come from, but it caught Roone’s attention.