by Skyler Andra
I couldn't help the way I felt any more than I breathed. All I knew was that each angel made me giddy. My heart beat wildly and uncontrollably around them, and they stirred my arousal. I didn’t believe I was in love with them, at least not from the human perspective yet. Not that I knew what it felt like, but I wondered about the sense of completeness, the binding and emotional union that gave a pair of lovers meaning and purpose. But either way, Mike didn’t own my heart, so he had no right in commanding it.
I headed for the city square. Last night at dinner, Mike reasoned that Lucifer would likely target busy places, like the city square, for maximum chaos. Although this was the kind of dirty trick that Lucifer used to keep us distracted, but we couldn’t risk the loss of innocent lives.
After a few moments Mike caught up with me, keeping pace with my steady stride, one arm still clutching his helmet.
In no time we reached the city square filled with humans bumbling about their business, the sounds a pleasant distraction. Footfalls clattered on the pavement. The barista in the coffee van banged a strainer to get rid of the used ground coffee beans, and the hiss of the steamer as it frothed the milk met my ears. Delighted squeals from children playing in the fountain, flicking water and splashing their wet feet, rose above it all.
The dire threat looming over the unaware crowd me tense up. If a bomb did go off, Mike and I would survive the blast, albeit be weakened and need to heal… but the poor humans wouldn’t be as lucky.
A young man of college aid played guitar near the coffee van, capitalizing on the steady stream of traffic from it. As people passed, they tossed coins into his instrument case. Was this how people rewarded a beautiful voice and musicianship?
I didn’t have any money on me so I pulled out the next best thing: my blue card from the back pocket—the one the Nephilim had given me to purchase whatever I needed—and threw it in and smiled. The boy gave me a strange look as if I’d sprouted horns. I laughed to myself and shook my head, still finding human reactions odd, especially when I offered a great gift.
Michael stopped to pick up the card and threw a dollar note of some sort in its place. Then he hurried over to me, giving me back my card.
“You might want to keep this,” he said. “It buys things with loaned money that we have to pay back. It’s not like a twenty-dollar bill that buys lunch.”
“Oh.” I scratched the back of my neck, then accepted the card. I guess I still had much to learn about this world.
Michael moved away a few paces and bent down, placing his hands on the ground.
“Put your hand here, Jojo,” he instructed as I came to his side and bent beside him, placing my hand in line with his. “I’m going to teach you how to send out what I call gracefire. It detects anyone or anything tainted by Luc. You might need to use it one day. Ready?”
I nodded, watching him, committing this technique to memory.
He sent out a current of grace that electrified my own. Waves of energy like those emitted from an earthquake vibrated outward in concentric circles.
“Feel that?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
His energy acted as a scanner seeking out light and repelling darkness. His power hit every single person in the square. Energy thundered through the ground, reporting back to him. It sent a cold spike through my blood each time it happened upon a person infected with the plague. I gasped. So many of them, if not all of them—minus the children—were infected.
I tore my hand away to rub the scar on my chest, grateful that the children were spared. Head bent, I thought of the child at the diner who stabbed me. So much darkness. What had filled him with so much gloom? I’d probably never get an answer.
But Mike wasn’t done there. He sent another round of grace in search of something else. This time his impulses struck two objects: one a hundred yards to our right and a second further north. Both were laced with so much darkness that when it hit me, I felt dizzy. Pain bloomed in my chest and my hand sparked with a vicious ache, as if responding to the call.
“Did you feel that?” he asked, his eyes dark and pensive.
“Yes,” I croaked, clutching my scar again.
“There’re two dark bombs in the city square.” His mouth twisted with a bleak expression and I swallowed. “One by the coffee van. Another by the fountain. A smart move on Lucifer’s part to maximize causalities.”
My heart sank to my feet. What a monster Lucifer had become. His words to me back in the bathroom about the Most High interfering in a world he’d been granted echoed in my mind. That it was his to do as he pleased to test the humans for their faith, integrity, and ability to give and receive love. Not in the way humans interpreted it, however. To give without wanting in return, not needing another’s approval or love to fulfill them…. oh what lies, deception, and trickery! If he really believed the Creator to be wrong, then why threaten harm against the humans? Why not take his argument to his maker?
“How can we stop them from exploding?” I asked, not having the slightest clue about how bombs worked or how to prevent one from going off.
Mike stroked the ground and glanced up at me. “We deactivate them with blasts of our grace.”
“Are you sure that won’t accidentally set them off and hurt the humans?” I pushed.
“No.” He gave me a grim smile. I’d never seen Mike unsure of himself or so out of his depth. I knew every failure made him lose confidence, but today I saw it written across his face.
“Maybe we should call the emergency services,” I suggested. “Like you did yesterday to escape the stadium. Could they help?”
He cupped my face. “You’re learning fast.”
I was glad his bad mood from earlier had faded. In times like this, I guess petty things like that didn’t matter. I offered him my faith and strength.
He hesitated before speaking as if weighing his words. “But I don’t want to do that. The emergency services will ask questions. They’ll want to know how I know there’s a bomb in the square. I don’t want to draw attention to alert Luc, especially since he threatened to set a bomb off if I interfered again.”
He pressed his hands on the ground again, fingers splayed.
A sickening dread filled my stomach. Darkness swamped my grace like a menacing storm cloud drifting in, charged with black tentacles of electricity ready to lash out. It pounded against my ribcage, searching for a weakness to exploit to get out. I cried out and my and flew to my chest, rubbing my wound.
“Rats,” Mike said harshly through gritted teeth, scanning the square. “Two by the coffee van. Luc must know we’re here.”
My gaze flew in that direction. Four people were in line. Three men and a woman parted from the queue, their movements stiff like they had arthritis or some sort of muscular condition. They all headed our way, glaring, their fingers clawed. One pulled out a knife. Another drew a shiny grey weapon that resembled the gun Uri was shot with.
Mike slammed his palm to the ground and released a burst of grace that torpedoed in the direction of the coffee van. The energy shook both the bomb and myself, causing me to rock back on my feet from the plague dispelling from their bodies.
My inner darkness shrieked with rage. The ache in my chest felt like Lucifer stabbing me all over again.
With each approaching step of the demons, I was paralyzed by the looming darkness. My skin, blood, and flesh constricted and stiffened like water turning into ice.
“Are they going to attack in front of everyone?” I inquired quickly, zipping up my riding jacket to stay warm since it felt like the darkness extinguished all my light.
“Looks like it.” Mike kept up his grace assault on the bomb by the van until the last of the darkness discharged from it. “Get ready!”
He stood up and tossed aside his helmet in preparation for an attack.
Breathing was close to impossible with the icy fear hardening in my chest.
“You blast the second bomb by the fountain while I keep them at bay
,” Mike ordered, producing his flaming sword.
The darkest of the demons—those with almost black eyes—limped forward, their speed hampered by the effect on their limbs. Those who moved faster were less infected, but still under the influence. Our presence set them off like a wolf being threatened by an intruder trying to steal their carcass.
Mike leapt forward, slashing at the first two with swift arcs of his sword, cleaving the plague from their bodies, souls, and minds.
Bystanders screamed and ran away as the demons fell to their knees, blinking and rubbing their heads, unsure of what was going on. Others shouted for help. Several people started to film Mike on using cell phone cameras. One petrified mother dialed someone on her phone and screamed about an attack in the city square.
“Diffuse the last bomb!” Mike yelled at me.
I snapped out of my frightened daze and drew on my grace. Hand pressed to the ground, I pumped out three more bursts of grace, targeting the last bomb. I felt it rattle and top over, but it resisted my power.
Our leader swung his sword creating a circle of fierce and defensive heavenly light, which he lifted above his head. The light stretched out, blinding the remaining group of demons and bystanders, who all raised hands to shield their eyes.
“I can’t deactivate it!” I shouted at him, spotting him through the luminescence.
“Keep going!” Mike commanded, in his element, terminating the darkness in another demon by stabbing them in the chest.
I kept up my assault on the bomb when something sharp whistled through the air and struck me in the neck. Stopping, I felt for my throat and found a long, thin piece of metal in it. Confused, I plucked it out to examine it. A dart.
I glanced around until I saw the demon with the gun smirking, raising his weapon as if bragging. Then he pointed the gun at Mike and fired.
“No!” I shrieked. Scampering to my feet, I wobbled.
What was happening?
I watched Michael pluck one dart from his leg and a second from his arm before tossing them aside. Roaring, he unleashed an even brighter explosion and the demons shrank away. My vision blurred, but I heard another two projectiles hit him. His hazy outline swayed on his feet.
“Jopheeel…” he mumbled, unable to pronounce my name properly.
“Michael!” I screamed. Rushing forward, I tripped over my own feet and crashed into him.
Another dart pierced me in the side. The world instantly spun and my vision faded. Both Mike and I collapsed to the ground. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness were two boots. Dark brown, scuffed, and missing laces.
25
Michael
I woke up and blinked. My head was heavy. My vision foggy and unfocused. I had aches and pains all over. My muscles felt like they were made of concrete. I tried to move but couldn’t.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Where the fuck was I?
Something tight squeezed my chest and I glanced down. White straps secured me to a seat.
Nearby I heard groans, music, and the sounds of people shuffling and scraping. This place smelt sickly sweet like cotton candy mixed with sweat, piss, and dirty animals.
Clouded shapes moved in my vision. I couldn’t make a thing out. Fear spiked in my veins. Wherever I was, it was dark, the atmosphere oppressive. It reminded me of the building where Silas had taken Zak and I back when we were looking for Raff.
I tried to move again. Call out for help. But my mouth refused to work. Dizziness rocked me in place. I groaned against it.
Giving up on that idea, I called to my grace but couldn’t connect to it. I couldn’t feel it beneath my ribcage. Shit. Something was blocking me from summoning it. A shot of ice in my veins froze my blood.
Raised voices called me away from my predicament.
“Give me my hit,” someone croaked.
“No money, no smack,” another voice replied.
“Fuck you,” the first snarled. “I need it.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” Scuffling noises followed, accompanied by grunts and a struggle.
Fuck. Was I in a smack house? How the fuck did I get here? I blinked again, trying to clear away the haze from my vision.
Slowly my mind cleared and the memories came flooding back. Jophiel and I were going to the city square to dismantle Luc’s bombs. We were intercepted by rats and I was struck by some drug laced darts and fell unconscious.
“Jopheeel,” I groaned unable to speak properly with a thick tongue and dry throat.
I tuned in with my angelic hearing, pushing aside the music to hear the sounds beyond. Lighters clicking on, and liquid bubbling. People shooting up heroin or ice.
Fuck. People like this were dangerous. Crazy. Especially the ice heads. The lowest of the low. Demon scum. Whenever they took these drugs to mask their pain, they allowed the darkness to inch in, it was worse than alcohol. It possessed them completely. Their need for more. Their desperation to steal to achieve a high. They had trails of broken hearts as they abused the ones they loved to feed their cravings.
Voices murmured out in the hall. A flood of darkness washed over me. Not only from where I found myself. From the presence out in the hall. It elicited prickles down my neck, like an army of ants marched on my skin.
Luc. That fucking creep was behind this. Holding us captive in an underground den of filth. The stark reality of my situation deadened my insides even further.
My blood hardened. This was it. It was time to meet my maker. The hour in which I would face my ultimate failure. I’d never return to Heaven a hero. No one would remember the Archangel Michael for his many victories, for preventing past wars, or ending the conflict by casting Luc out of Heaven. No. They’d curse me for this screw up, my mistakes have led to the death and destruction of the human race and Earth.
Please forgive me Most High. I have failed you.
I closed my eyes. The ache in my chest, one of disappointment and defeat, threatened to split me in two. The feeling worse than what Luc’s knives might do.
Footsteps signaled the approach of two bodies. A door clicked shut and a chair creaked as someone sat down in it.
“I brought them here like you asked,” a voice said. I recognized it as the harsh croak of the rat from before, in the apartment that Zak had busted into.
A flush of adrenaline tingled through my body. The same rat that had called to warn Luc. But how? Zak cut away his darkness. Maybe Zak had really lost his touch. His grace swamped by the power of his darkness.
“Thank you, my friend.” Luc’s voice was sharp and cold like an axe, but it also contained in it a melody that I had not heard in years.
Before his fall, he had a voice like a symphony. Soft like the wind when he was calm. Rising like the clash of waves when he was happy. Soaring to the rumble of thunder when angered. Beautiful. Nothing like it. He was the Archangel of music and light after all. Two of the most powerful energies in all of creation.
“Now what?” the rat asked his master.
“Keep them here until after the concert,” Luc replied flippantly. “By then, we will be back on schedule.”
Fuck. No. We had to get out of here. I was not letting Luc infect thirty thousand people and convert them into full blown rats. I squirmed in my chair, rocking it.
“If you say so,” the rat croaked. “What about the others? Do you want me to bring them here too?”
“Leave them.” Luc’s chair creaked as if he leaned back in it. “Divide and conquer.” He issued a pitiful laugh. Smug and fucking arrogant.
My fingers curled and the straps binding me protested with a crack of their own. Zak and Uri were in danger. I had to warn them somehow. If they were kidnapped too, we were all good as dead.
“Oh look, sleeping beauty is awake,” Luc said. “Give him another shot. Wake him up. Give him just enough so he can comprehend what he’s done.”
Footsteps warned me of the rat’s approach.
Shot? Of what? Another drug?
“Nooo,” I
groaned. I didn’t want any more of that shit flowing through my veins. I couldn’t move properly. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t hash out a plan to get the hell out of here. It blocked my connection to my grace, rendering me powerless.
Someone grabbed me by the arm. I tried to fight but I moved too slowly, too sluggish. It was like I was trapped in one of those dreams where you can’t get away.
My heart thud in my chest. I was vulnerable and at Luc’s mercy. This was an unfamiliar place. One more defeat. One more strike against my name. This one moment would define me forever.
The rat strapped something to my arm, probing at my skin, the way nurses were trained to find a blood vessel. Something sharp jabbed me in the arm, injecting a liquid that burned in my veins.
“Wha uuckk iss att?” I slurred, my tongue still thick, leaving me helpless to get my words out. “Geb oooof meee.”
Fuck. I couldn’t put a word together. I’d been drugged all right.
The fresh injection coursed through my veins, rousing me within seconds. My vision sharpened, though not to its full extent. I blinked. The fogginess was stripped back from my awareness, allowing me to think straighter as I gathered my bearings.
Luc reclined in a leather chair behind a mahogany desk, he was smiling like he’d already damn well won. Expensive vases and statues on the walls behind him boasted of his wealth. Paintings, tribal masks, and spears. They were priceless artifacts. But why here? In this filthy drug den? Were we in one of his bunkers?
I glanced to the side, finding Jophiel asleep in a chair a few feet away from me.
I shook the fuck out of my own chair, managing to shuffle it forward, almost tipping it back. “You prick. Let her go.”
Luc leaned forward in his seat, a cold grin stretched across his ugly mug. “Now why would I do that?”
