Lord of Legions

by T. R. Hamby

  “Comfy,” Andreas remarked.

  “Put it in myself.”

  “So,” Andreas said, looking at him. “What do you like?”

  Wells smirked. “Everything.”

  “Choking?”

  “Yes.”

  Andreas nodded. “What about strangling?”

  The mood instantly changed, and Wells stared at him, disbelieving.

  Then he laughed. “Funny.”

  “Not quite,” Andreas replied, his voice dangerous. “Samuel Gene wouldn’t agree.”

  “Who?”

  “The man you dumped by the creek.”

  Wells’ eyes flashed. “You’re a fucking liar.”

  “Did you do it?”

  Wells suddenly sat up, and threw his hands out, wrapping them around Andreas’ throat.

  It was all he needed. They struggled, but Andreas had some training under his belt now. He threw Wells into the wall of the van, and sent his fist into his face. Wells crumpled onto the floor.

  Andreas straightened. Wells didn’t move.

  Good.

  He opened the doors, and there was Roone, his hands in his pockets.

  “Got him,” Andreas said, jumping out of the van, and Roone grinned.

  “I’ll call Hudson….where’s the mile marker?….oh, I see it….”

  Andreas looked around while Roone spoke with Hudson. It was almost pitch-black beyond the light shining from the van’s headlights….and he felt….

  He barely felt the Presence before the Demon was upon them. She shrieked, producing a Blade, and swiped at Roone.

  Roone ducked, dropping his phone, and the Blade made contact.

  He fell to the ground, grunting, and the Demon rounded on Andreas. Andreas backed into the van, stunned, and only just remembered to twitch his hands, engulfing them in flames.

  She backed off, eyeing his hands warily.

  “Where is he?” she growled, in a hoarse voice. “Where’s the boy?”

  “Fuck you,” Andreas spat, and she snorted.

  “Tell me!” she shrieked, slashing her Blade through the air.

  She suddenly turned toward Roone. “Or I’ll--”

  Then she started, went rigid, and screamed, falling to the ground. Andreas watched, bewildered, as she writhed in the snow, howling guttural cries, her legs kicking and her spine arching….

  Then she stopped. Her body relaxed, and her limbs twitched. She whimpered, staring terrified at Andreas. Her skin was a sickly, mottled gray; she was missing teeth, and her hair was thin and tangled.

  “Kill her,” Roone’s voice hissed, and Andreas whirled around.

  He was sitting up, clutching the left side of his face with a bloody hand. “Now. Before she can move again. Hurry.”

  Andreas was lost. Although he had been sent to help, he had never experienced something like this before, and was completely out of his element.

  He forced himself to move, kneeling beside the Demon. Her eyes widened, and she whispered, “No….please….don’t send me back there….”

  Andreas took a shaky breath, and with a hand that was on fire, pressed his palm over her face.

  Her screams didn’t last long. Her whole body caught fire, and she burned for a few moments before vanishing into thin air, leaving an acrid smell behind.

  Andreas stared at the melted snow, his heart hammering in his chest. Did that just happen?

  Then Roone moaned, and he remembered himself.

  He rushed over and took Roone’s face in his hands. “Let me see.”

  “No--we have to get back. There could be others.”

  Roone stood shakily, still holding a hand to his face. He grasped Andreas’ hand and yanked him backward.

  It was a very unpleasant sensation--one he was slowly getting used to. But it was over quickly, and Andreas crashed to the floor.

  He shook himself. They were lying on the rug in the living room. The lights were still on--the clock on the mantle read nine.

  Roone moaned again, and Andreas turned to him as the sound of thundering footsteps drew near.

  “Sit up; let me see….”

  “The fuck happened?”

  “Roone!”

  “Get my case.”

  “Sit him on the couch--get a towel.”

  Everyone was moving around, like scattering rats. Andreas sat with Roone on the sofa. Gilla wrapped a towel around Roone’s chest, catching the blood dripping from his face. Barry returned with some damp cloths. Mel knelt in front of Roone, trying to get a look at the wound as well, and Nora arrived with a black case.

  “I’m fine; I’m fine,” Roone insisted, though blood was running down his cheek.

  “Just show me your goddamn face, Roone,” Andreas said impatiently.

  Roone grimaced, and took his hand away.

  It was his eye. It was closed, swollen and bloody. A laceration cut across it, from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. The Demon had gouged him.

  “Hold still,” Andreas said, grasping his face.

  “I’d rather not.”

  Andreas ignored him, and very carefully pulled his eyelid back. Roone stiffened, grunting, and Gilla took his hand.

  The eye was intact. There was that. But it was weeping blood. The pupil had clearly been damaged, the iris misshapen.

  “Can you see anything?” he asked quietly.

  Roone took a shaky breath. “It’s very blurry.”

  “Shit,” Mel said.

  Andreas sighed. There was no way his vision could be restored.

  Roone seemed to guess what he was thinking. “It’s okay,” he said. “I have the other one.”

  There were nervous chuckles, and Andreas managed a grin. “No need to be so cavalier.”

  “I could’ve died. And besides, I can see for miles. I probably only need the one eye.”

  “Let’s sew you up,” Mel said, “and you can tell us what happened.”

  So Andreas and Roone took turns describing the night’s events, while Andreas carefully sutured the lacerations above and below Roone’s eye. There was plenty of blood, and Gilla mopped it up with the damp cloths.

  “So there was a Demon looking around for us,” Nora breathed.

  “She just--dropped,” Andreas murmured, frowning. “And she screamed.”

  “My great Talent,” Roone said bitterly. “Remember?”

  Nora shuddered.

  “You all right?” Michael asked, and Andreas knew he was talking to him.

  He tied off the final stitch in Roone’s face. Well, he didn’t feel horrible. He felt very strange--he had never killed before. But it was a Demon. She had been trying to kill them. She had been after Gabriel. She had to die.

  He finally shrugged and nodded. “I’m all right.”

  He applied a bandage to Roone’s face. Gabriel brought Roone a glass of whiskey, which Roone immediately drained.

  “How do you feel?” Barry asked, and Andreas could hear worry in his voice.

  Roone looked embarrassed. “I’m fine. It’s just painful.”

  “You should rest,” Nora said.

  It was the wrong move. Roone immediately looked at her, eagerly, and she winced, regretful.

  Andreas grasped Roone’s shoulder roughly, and he looked at him. Andreas shook his head, and Roone’s face fell.

  “Rest sounds good,” Mel said quietly.

  “Come on,” Andreas murmured, taking Roone’s hand and helping him stand. “I’ll stay with you. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  So he and Roone went into Roone’s bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

  “She talked to me,” Roone whispered, as if hardly daring to believe it. “She hasn’t spoken to me in so long….”

  “Roone, snap out of it,” Andreas said, grasping his shoulders and looking into his one eye. “She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t love you.”

  “I know she doesn’t,” Roone sighed. “I know. It’s just--I love her. So much. More than anything.”

  And he looked away, anguished. “I
can’t stop it. I want to. It’s torturing me. Every time I hear her voice, I think of when we were together….when I did those horrible things….I don’t deserve any of this….I don’t deserve you….”

  “You’re tired,” Andreas murmured soothingly. “You’ve just been injured--you could’ve died. You need to lie down; you need to rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  Roone shrugged, but began to undress.

  They got into bed, and Andreas held him. They were quiet, and everything that had happened flashed through Andreas’ mind. He could hardly believe it. They had been attacked--Roone had been injured. Andreas had killed a Demon. It had all been so sudden.

  But he hadn’t lost his best friend. Roone was safe….and that was the thought that stayed with him as he fell asleep.

  Mel

  Mel returned to his post as soon as Roone and Andreas had gone to bed. If there were other Demons nearby, he wanted to see them.

  He watched from his perch on the roof. All the outdoor lights were on, as well as the lights in the stable. The horses wouldn’t appreciate the lights being on so late, but it couldn’t be avoided. Mel had to see.

  As he watched his mind strayed, over and over again, to Roone. He had been shocked to find himself feeling a surge of concern when he saw that Roone had been injured. For a moment he had thought Roone was going to die--with all that blood--and it had scared him.

  How very strange. Mel had once dreamed of Roone getting killed. Now he had come close, and Mel was worried.

  It was uncomfortable to admit to himself….but maybe his feelings had changed a little.

  Then he thought of what Roone had done to Nora, and he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know what to feel anymore.

  “Hey,” Michael’s voice said, and Mel looked around.

  He was walking carefully across the roof. When he got to Mel he sat down beside him.

  He held up a thermos and two cups. “Your favorite.”

  “What? Whiskey?”

  “Coffee.”

  Mel chuckled. He had been drinking a lot of coffee lately, a new nervous habit. He could never quite drink enough to be affected by the caffeine, as a human would, but it was the taste he craved anyway. Nora said he was going to turn into a coffee bean.

  “Cheers,” Michael said, after the coffee had been poured.

  “You should be pissed,” Mel said, sipping from his cup. “They know where we are now.”

  “One of them did,” Michael said thoughtfully. “Might take a while for it to catch up with the rest.”

  “If they aren’t hanging out nearby.”

  Michael shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  Mel’s head twitched. “I still say we leave. Get out while we can.”

  “They’ll find us. Maybe it’ll take years instead of months, but they’ll find us eventually. We can’t live like that.”

  Mel couldn’t argue. He sipped his coffee again, and heaved a sigh. Below them were the most precious people in the world--Angel and Immortal.

  Except for Roone, of course….

  Mel shifted uncomfortably, and Michael looked at him. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Michael looked a little annoyed, but returned to checking out the perimeter.

  A moment passed. Mel’s head twitched, and he couldn’t seem to help himself now. “What do you think of Roone?”

  Michael looked at him. Then he frowned, thinking. “God, I don’t know. It’s all fucked up.”

  “Do you hate him?”

  Michael studied him, and Mel knew he was trying to decipher the motive behind his questions. “Do you?”

  Mel looked away, his head twitching again. He felt a surge of frustration, and sipped his coffee moodily. He could feel Michael’s eyes on him.

  He sighed. “I don’t know,” he finally murmured.

  “Nora doesn’t hate him,” Michael said quietly. “If that helps.”

  “Nora’s perfect,” Mel replied dryly. “Unlike me.”

  “Nora’s not perfect,” Michael said, rolling his eyes.

  “She pities him.”

  “I thought we all did.”

  Mel was quiet. Michael was right; Mel did pity Roone. He knew Roone wasn’t well, knew he couldn’t be held fully responsible for what he had done. He was like a lost puppy--so desperate for affection, so naive. Nora had spoken to him for the first time tonight, and he had looked at her bursting with hope.

  And Mel hadn’t been angry--to his utter amazement. He had been worried.

  He looked at Michael. “Do you forgive him?”

  Michael looked uncomfortable, and looked around, scanning the perimeter again.

  “I don’t know,” he replied quietly.

  “Which way are you leaning?”

  Michael took a deep breath, as if trying to stay patient. “Honestly, I don’t know what forgiveness is anymore,” he said. “I feel a lot less anger towards him than I did when we first got here.”

  Mel was troubled. He didn’t like what Michael had said about forgiveness. He had sounded emotional when he had spoken those words.

  He thought of Agatha. Or no, maybe it was Serene Michael was thinking about.

  Or maybe it was him.

  He realized, with a sickening feeling, that Michael had grown so used to being a pariah that forgiveness was just a fairytale to him. He no longer had Agatha’s love, and Serene was angry with him yet again.

  And as for Mel….Michael had had to atone for millenia, and only now, in the last year, had they gotten somewhere. How afraid was he that their newfound relationship would shatter?

  Mel didn’t know what to do. They sat in silence for a long time, searching the darkness for any sign of hungry Demons.

  “Do me a favor,” Mel finally said, and Michael looked at him warily. “When this is over, go Home and get that goddamn ring I made you.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “You and that ring.”

  “I made it for you,” he said firmly. “Wear it.”

  Michael’s lips twitched, and then he laughed. “Fine.”

  Mel smiled. It was good to hear his brother laugh. “I don’t know why you never wore it.”

  Michael looked embarrassed. “I don’t know. You know how I am with jewelry.”

  “You’re wearing a ring right now!”

  “It’s my wedding ring,” Michael shot back, “and it’s a plain silver band.”

  Mel snorted. “What’s the point in a ring if it’s not going to have jewels in it?”

  “Typical of you to say.”

  They continued like this for the rest of Mel’s shift, bantering and laughing, and looking into the shadows that surrounded the house.

  Then it was Gilla’s turn to keep a lookout, and Mel left the two, climbing off the roof and through his bedroom window.

  “Jesus, Mel,” Nora cried, switching on the lamp. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry,” Mel replied, smirking. “Didn’t feel like taking the stairs.”

  “You’re such an ass,” she said, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him.

  He caught it, smiling, and began to undress. “Did I wake you, love?”

  “Not really.”

  He got into bed, and she immediately drew close to him. He wrapped his arms around her, and they lay like that for a while.

  “Was Michael up there with you?” Nora finally murmured.

  “Yes.”

  “You two are hard to separate these days.”

  Mel chuckled. “Can’t seem to stay away from each other.”

  “Like when you would work on those cars together. That was nice.”

  Mel frowned. Yes, it had been nice.

  He brushed at her curls. “He said something strange tonight.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes….he said he doesn’t know what forgiveness is anymore.”

  Nora frowned. “Why did he say that?”

  Mel hesitated. “It came up.”

  He didn�
��t want to bring up Roone.

  She still looked suspicious, but said, “And it’s bothering you?”

  Mel sighed. “I don’t know….I just think about Agatha and Serene….and….and me.”

  He picked at the blanket. “I forgot how alone he is.”

  “He’s not alone anymore,” Nora replied soothingly. “He has us.”

  “He might not think he has me,” he said, and he heard the worry in his voice.

  Nora studied him, her brown eyes soft. “You think he’s afraid you haven’t forgiven him.”

  He was quiet. She had hit the nail right on the head, but it was still difficult to hear.

  She waited, then asked gently, “Have you?”

  He thought of Lilith, and his head twitched. “I don’t know.”

  “Can you love someone and not forgive them?” Nora wondered.

  “You think I love Michael?”

  She gave him a look, and he chuckled. “Don’t be silly. Of course you do.”

  “I know.”

  She studied him, brushed at his cheek. “I’m sorry, love. I can’t figure this one out for you.”

  He hesitated, before murmuring, “Do you forgive Roone?”

  She didn’t flinch, or go pale. She simply frowned, and seemed to think for a moment.

  “Yeah,” Nora finally said, “I think so….I mean….I don’t hate him for what he did. He didn’t know what he was doing was wrong.”

  “He’s still in love with you.”

  “Yeah.”

  They were quiet.

  Nora began to drift off, curled into Mel’s chest. Mel brushed his fingers through her hair, listened to her slow breaths. He thought of Michael, and his heart ached. Where were they now?

  He hesitated. Then, careful not to disturb Nora, he reached up and slipped the sapphire pendant off his neck. He felt a horrible pang, placing the necklace on the nightstand, and he thought of Lilith. Would she feel betrayed, if she knew?

  But she wasn’t here. She was in Heaven, and she was happy. What had happened, happened. He couldn’t keep carrying it around on his neck.

  The sapphire sparkled, and he had a strong urge to put it back on. But he resisted, and settled back against the pillow.

  Nora stirred. “Go to sleep,” she murmured drowsily, and Mel chuckled.

  Across the room, Roone’s ring gleamed on the bureau.

  Silas