Playing With Fire
Page 84
“How’s this for a proposition,” I whisper, all emotion leaking from my essence until I’m more calm than I’ve ever been, “Do as I say and I’ll allow you to live. Continue to play coy and I’ll kill you here and now.” I dig the blade against the fleshy part of his throat at the same time I summon another knife in my left hand and jab the tip of it into his groin. “Or perhaps I should just put you out of commission to see how long it takes you to grow back this appendage.”
His eyes widen, but he collects himself quickly.
“Well, this a bit dramatic. Don’t you think? I mean, wow. ”
Digging the second blade a bit deeper, he squeals.
“All right—all right. Move out of the way and I’ll do what I can,” he says, flailing his arms forward.
“No funny business,” I snap. “Just save him.”
Sliding off of his lap, I take the seat beside him so I can move out of his way.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, giving me a salute.
Shifting forward, the incubus climbs over the middle console and takes a seat opposite Liam.
“He’s in rough shape, you know. Practically dead already. I don’t know if I’m going to be much help at this point,” he says, assessing the situation.
“Well, stop talking about it and try, dammit,” I say, clenching my jaw.
He nods curtly, giving me a final sideways glance before reaching out and placing one of his hands along Liam’s exposed forearm. I twist around in the seat, trying to get a better vantage point.
The energy in the Yukon shifts slightly, amping up a powerful explosion of heat and desire that even I can feel. Squirming in my seat, I exhale from its beckoning.
“What’s happening? Is he responding?” I ask.
“Shhhh. Geez, woman. Will you let me work? There’s a certain finesse to this, you know. It’s not just ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am,’ despite popular belief,” he says, shooting me a look of irritation.
“Come on, Liam. It’s okay, it’ll be okay. I promise,” I whisper, reaching around and stroking the top of his head. “Just give in to him.”
“What is it about this one?” The demon asks, briefly flitting his eyes in my direction.
My gaze returns to Liam’s crumpled form, searching for any changes. Instead, his essence seems more distant than ever. My heart flutters, and I suddenly feel like being sick.
“I don’t know. He’s just—he’s special. I have no other way to explain it,” I say, swallowing hard.
“Hmmm.”
“What?” I demand.
He shrugs, “Nothing. It’s just—you’re an odd duck, you know? You both are.”
“Thank you for your assessment,” I say, firing back my irritation at him. “What’s happening? Why isn’t it working?”
“I don’t know. He should have at least opened his eyes by now. I’m not sure why it’s taking more. Maybe because of all the damage you inflicted on me earlier,” he says, making a face. “I’m weaker than I should be when attempting necromancy.”
“Don’t even think of blaming this on me. You know I did what I had to,” I say.
“Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Look, it’s not working. Maybe he’s just too far—”
“Eva—” Liam groans, lifting his head.
I grope at the back of his seat, pulling myself forward.
“I’m here. I’m right here, Liam,” I say, placing my hand along his arm and hoping it will give him a sense of calm.
Suddenly, as if sucked from his body by a powerful vacuum, Liam’s soul completely vacates the physical realm. His entire essence vanishes before my eyes in a powerful, colorful sweeping arc as his final word lingers in the air.
My heart sinks and the weight of everything tumbles down on me.
“What did you do?” I cry, turning to the incubus.
“What did I do?” he says indignantly as he scampers back into his seat. “What the hell did you do? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“Well, if you didn’t do it, then who did?” I say, scanning the interior of the vehicle and then beyond into the space outside. “He can’t go until I’ve crossed him over. I don’t even have my elemental sword thanks to you—”
If someone has taken his soul, I swear…
A voice rings out, permeating the entire space of the vehicle as if it were emanating from a loudspeaker, “Evangeline, you have gone against the Guild’s Creed of Separation by attempting to enlist a demon to circumvent fate. You must come at once to face your own Judgement.”
My mouth pops open, and I drop my hand from Liam’s body.
“Ooooooo, you’re in trouble now,” the incubus chuckles.
Chapter 7
Creed of Separation
My hands fly upward, covering the entirety of my face.
No… this cannot be happening… none of it. I have to be in a bad, horrible, awful dream…
“Looks like we know who put the kibosh on the flesh bag’s resurrection,” the incubus says, laughing under his breath.
“His name is Liam,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Whatever. Ya know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say someone already tipped off the Guild’s troops about you and wannabe lover boy.”
I drop my hands. “Did you—?”
“Psh, not me,” he says, waving is hand in front of him. “I needed to feed first. Had half my face and fingers ripped off. Remember?”
Releasing a slow, deliberate breath, I stare at the back of Liam’s driver’s seat. On the other side are the remains of all he was. The remains of the only love I have ever really known—and likely ever will. My body shakes uncontrollably, and I don’t know whether to do as I’m told or crumple into my grief and let it consume me. His dark hair flitters in the breeze from the crushed window, tousled the way he usually had it—but there will never be a usual way again. Not anymore.
“Leave us—” I say, tears brimming in my eyes and threatening to fall.
“Don’t need to tell me twice,” the incubus says, vanishing with a snap from his good hand.
The eerie silence inside the vehicle stretches until it’s the only thing I can hear. Too afraid to move to the front seat again, I hold my breath and wait. Wait for the oncoming storm of tears. For the inevitable pull of the Guild when they find out a charge of mine has passed before his time. And worse… that it was never meant to be. Judgement will come and collect its payment from me, too.
Suddenly numb, tears stream silently down my cheeks and for the first time in my entire existence, I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t care what happens at all, really. I had a glimpse of what could be, and now that’s all gone.
“I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. That I couldn’t protect you. I should have been here—I should have seen…” My words cut off as my breath hitches in my throat and the onslaught of emotions catch up with me. “This is all my fault. I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper.
Had I been less preoccupied with my own desires and more concerned about the protection of Liam, I would have seen this coming. Or at least been here to prevent it. I should have realized there could still be openings. The vengeance demon was just doing its—
Anger wells up inside me, turning my tears acidic.
“Rachel—she called the vengeance demon to Liam,” I whisper; a plan formulating in my mind.
My jaw sets and I look up, allowing my gaze to extend beyond the hood of the vehicle.
She needs to pay.
She needs to suffer the way she’s made Liam suffer—and so does the demon.
My muscles tense as I prepare to strike my own vengeance. Before I can make a move, I’m pulled from the Yukon, my body broken apart like the seeds of a dandelion. The pieces of me flitter in the wind until one by one, each piece coalesces.
When my consciousness melds back into place, I take a step back and look up at the enormous podium made of mahogany and precious sto
nes all inlaid gold. Atop the high seat, a Throne Angel with an air of power and authority peers down at me. Clearly, the High Justice. His high cheekbones and wheeled eyes put me on edge immediately.
Flitting my gaze around the rest of the space, a sea of my peers have been gathered in a circle of seats high above me. I stand in the center—an angel officially on trial.
Swallowing hard, I hold my chin high and will my heart back into my chest. Despite the significance of this situation, I fight back tears for Liam and the grief I can’t even allow myself to truly move through. At least, not yet.
“Evangeline, Guardian of the third Order, do you know why you have been summoned here?” the High Justice asks.
My nostrils flare, but I tip my head in acknowledgement.
“You have been charged with defying the Creed of Separation. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this is a serious matter and one we do not wish to take lightly. Do you understand?” he asks, pulling his shoulders back as he peers down at me.
“I do,” I say, straightening my back and lifting my chin higher.
“How do you plead?” he asks, an air of gravity surrounding his words and sucking me in.
My tongue grazes my lower lip and my stature falters. “The Creed of Separation dictates we act first and foremost in the best interest of our charges,” I say.
“Indeed it does,” the Throne Angel says, waiting for me to continue.
“I did what I felt was necessary for the protection of my charge, Liam Henry Mattson,” I say, pressing my lips into a thin line.
“Did you now?” he says, tilting his head to the side.
“Yes.”
Technically, it’s true. Everything I did for him was in what I felt was his best interest. All Guardians are allowed to express a certain amount of discretion when it comes to their prime directive.
“Evangeline, are you aware of the regulations surrounding Declaration Twelve within the Creed?” he says, calmly leading me down the direction I was afraid of.
Breathing in slowly, I nod. “Of course.”
“Can you repeat back to me what Declaration Twelve entails?”
Shifting my gaze again to the sea of angels around me, I sigh. They’re making an example of me—it’s the only reason such a gathering has been assembled.
“Declaration Twelve dictates no Guardian Angel shall develop a personal tie to their charges. They must remain a neutral observer while offering guidance and protection when the needs arise. This includes protection against demons,” I say, trying hard to make my voice strong. I’m not sure I succeed.
“This is correct. Our law is very specific, however, going on to Section D of Declaration Twelve, it states no personal affairs—such as those of the heart, can be established between a Guardian and human charge. Do you remember Section D, Evangeline?”
I flinch, but slowly nod.
“At what point did the protection and guidance of Liam Henry Mattson turn into a personal affair?”
I bite my lip and peer around the room. Angels all around me bend in, talking to the ones beside them. My shoulders sag and I lower my chin. If I lie now—if I try to say it isn’t true, I could be condemned to death for treason, should they reveal otherwise. But if I answer honestly, my life will be forfeit anyway. I’ll lose the ability to be a Guardian and any good I could do here in this stupid, wretched world will vanish. Either way, I lose. But what does any of it matter? I lost the one thing that mattered anyway.
“I’m uncertain what you mean,” I say, lifting my gaze.
Disappointment sweeps across the Throne Angel’s features and he raises a hand. Before the entire congregation, a large screen appears. It flickers to life and my mouth pops open.
As if on instant replay, the aftermath of Liam’s accident comes into view from my own perspective. It’s like they’ve somehow managed to hijack the screen of my mind, as they play for all to see everything I’m seeing, thinking…and feeling.
My sorrow is palpable, my love and anguish evident.
“…She needs to pay. She needs to suffer the way she’s made Liam suffer—And so does the demon…”
It ends with my final thoughts before being pulled into this very court. The silence that follows is almost as deafening as the one left in the wake of Liam’s death.
As the screen vanishes, the High Court’s Throne Angel returns his glowing, wheeled gaze to me.
“Does this explain things better, child?” he asks simply.
The collective turn their heads to stare in my direction.
Sighing in defeat and say, “Since he was a small boy.” My jaw sets and I cast my gaze out to the floor in front of me. There’s no escaping things now.
“You’re saying you had a personal relationship with this human as far back as his childhood?” the Throne Angels says, for the first time, surprise is audible in his tone.
“Yes,” I say, matter-of-factly.
“How can this be?” he retorts.
“Liam was special,” I begin. “That’s the only way to describe him. From a very young age, he could hear me. We could converse like you and I here in this very room. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But talking with him, guiding him… he was different. He’d listen and he wasn’t afraid. His soul—it was…beautiful.”
“And this emboldened you to develop feelings for him?”
I shrug, “I suppose. It opened a place in my heart I didn’t know I could feel for a charge. The veil of separation keeps us from having that kind of interaction. At least, normally. I’ve never had it happen before. But being able to interact with him—he made me feel special, too.”
“So, you’re telling us all these years you’ve been operating against Section D?” The Throne Angel asks. Again, surprise laces his tone, and I can’t help but wonder if today was their first alert.
“Sort of,” I say, “for the longest time, he shut me out. I figured it was the way his body had changed. Perhaps the biochemistry no longer allowed it. Or maybe he simply no longer wanted to. But today—” I press my lips tight and swallow hard.
“Today?” the High Justice presses.
“Today he asked for direct assistance. It allowed him to hear me again, and it opened up a space in my heart all over again. But more than that—it opened up a space in his.”
A sea of gasps clutter the air.
I shoot them all a sideways glance.
“But that wasn’t all about me. It opened Liam up to communion with demons as well. He was too vague with his request. And it got him killed,” I say, fighting back tears. “I should have been there to protect him.”
“Why were you not?” another Throne Angel directly behind the High Justice asks. A decorative hat adorned with jewels sits upon her head, and she clutches at the podium in front of her.
“I was hunting an incubus,” I respond.
“The incubus we just witnessed?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Why were you hunting him?” the main Justice says.
Biting my lower lip, I shake my head. “Because he was going to alert you to my affections to Liam.”
Again, the room erupts in chatter.
“You’re meaning to tell us you were hunting the demon to hide your secret and circumvent the Creed of Separation? Then, as we saw, you deliberately coalesced with him, bypassing the Creed of Distinction,” he says.
“Yes.”
The Throne Angel behind leans back into her chair, clutching her chest.
Not a good sign, I’m sure.
“This is unprecedented,” she mutters.
“Indeed it is,” the High Justice says, nodding.
“If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t Liam’s time. He was only—”
“Guardian, who are you to declare when it’s a human’s time to move on?” the Throne Angel in the back says, standing up. “Are you privy to the tapestry of the known universe?”
“Well, no. But—”
“Then silence yourself,” she spits back.
“Evangeline, the testimony from today is most disturbing—as I’m sure everyone in this room can agree. Our laws are set into motion to protect not only the humans, but us as well. They are not to be trifled with. Our dimensions cannot mesh together and if something were to happen—it could tear apart the entire fabric of the Universe. Even for something as noble as love,” he says.
“I didn’t—”
He holds up a hand, shaking his head. “Silence.”
I cover my lips with my fingertips and nod.
“It is the Judgement of this High Court that Evangeline will be sentenced to Purgatory until a more appropriate placement can be established,” he declares, releasing his magical gavel and slamming it against the desk. “This is a matter that far exceeds our Judgement and requires a more discerning eye.”
His gavel slams down onto the podium. With that, my entire essence is removed from the courtroom at the speed of a freight train.
Chapter 8
When in Oblivion
I land hard, dumped off in an area of dense trees and, as far as I can see, nothing else. There’s no warning, no good-bye. Nothing to cling to. Not even an idea of what to expect or how to prepare myself for life in Purgatory.
“Thanks,” I say, unable to move.
My Guardian’s outfit has been stripped from me, and instead, I’m clad in a soft, flowing dress with small flowers adorning the fabric. Frowning to myself, I pull myself to a stand and rub my bottom from the impact. I’m not used to such physicality, but I have a sneaking suspicion there’s more in store. There are tales about this dimension. Purgatory is a place of castaways. A place of total and utter inertia. And a place of lost souls.
Taking a moment, I close my eyes, allowing the past few linear moments in time to wash away. Everything I fought to protect—everything I loved… it’s all gone.