by Terry Reid
Hayley let out a loud sigh, unconvinced. “I hope you’re right.”
******
Alex found Hayley examining her sword when he set foot inside the bedroom. She sat on the end of the bed with her back facing the guardian. The sheath and sword belt lay across her lap. She turned the blade slowly in the rays of the failing dusk light creeping through the window. “You’re going to tell me to put it away,” she said, without looking at him.
Alex’s wings twitched behind him. “No,” he said. “It’s your sword.”
She let the point drop to the carpet and turned to look up at the angel. “Why do I have a sword, Alex?”
Alexander sat down on the bed beside her. He held his hand out and she passed him the weapon. Alex raised it up so the light caught the edge. The metal was smooth and flawless, allowing the light to run up and down its sleek edge without deviation. “You have it because your Creator wanted you to have it.” His eyes ran up its length to the engraved hilt and pommel. The black and white design was identical to that of his sword. “I doubt you were meant to have it so soon but what with the grand plans messed up as they are, I’m glad you do,” he said, turning it around and handing it hilt-first back to her.
Hayley took it, running her fingers over the white winged and haloed pommel. The detail was intricate. “I was thinking about what The Seer said. Maybe I do kill Gabriel.”
“We’ve discussed this before, she could have been lying. Besides, she mentioned saving Glasgow with your blade, which you did when you killed Marli. She didn’t say anything about Gabriel.”
Hayley sighed and sheathed the blade. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s fine. He’s gone home,” Alex said. “He apologised by the way, for what happened last night. He did not mean to frighten you.”
“It’s fine, what happened wasn’t anyone’s fault,” she sighed, waving his apology away. She stared off into a dim corner of her bedroom. “Alex, I feel like I’m beginning to lose my mind.”
Placing a hand on her cheek, Alex gently turned her head towards him. “What makes you say that?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, last night and…I keep having all these weird dreams.”
“What kind of dreams?”
“A star exploding and people screaming,” she said, cringing at the memory. “It’s really weird.”
Alex drew his hand away.
“What?”
“I…” Alex’s gaze snapped round in direction of the window. He stood up.
“Alex?”
He looked back to her, his face one of horror. “John and Stacy are in trouble.”
******
They met Christopher outside the hospital. The angel was pacing about, distraught.
“Christopher,” Alexander called, hurrying to his brother.
Christopher turned on his heels, his eyes wide. It didn’t seem he had sensed them appear out of the ether. He ran toward Alexander, shaking his head, trying desperately not to cry. “He’s taken John!”
Alex drew the youngster to him and Christopher cried into his shoulder. “I know, I know,” Alex whispered. “We’ll get him back.” He gently pulled away. “How’s Stacy?”
Christopher sniffled, raising a hand over his face as another sob broke through him. He shook his head. “He almost killed her. I don’t think she’ll live.”
Alex took him by the shoulders. Christopher shook violently. “We don’t know that yet. You just have to stay positive, ok?” Peering at him through bloodshot eyes, Christopher gave a meek nod. “Do you want to come back up?”
“No…I can’t,” he cried. “That’s why Father is watching her.”
Alex gave an understanding nod. “It’s fine, it’s all right.” He cast a glance at Hayley. She met his gaze and he could see the sadness in her eyes. Alex looked back to Christopher. “We’re going to head up. I need to see her and speak to our Father, is that ok?”
Christopher nodded.
“Are you going to be ok here by yourself?”
Christopher sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll be up soon.”
“Ok,” Alex said. He hugged his brother one final time and then led Hayley from the dark car park and into the hospital.
Andrew was keeping vigil when they arrived in Stacy Hughes’ room. The older angel was not surprised in the least when they entered through the door, having taken the stairs. Andrew did not begrudge them putting off seeing the horrific state Stacy had been left in. She was in such a bad way that Hayley lingered by the door. It took Alex’s coaxing to persuade the Glaswegian to venture to the injured woman’s bedside. Even then Hayley half hid behind her guardian’s side.
Stacy had been mutilated almost beyond recognition. The oxygen mask and the multitude of bandages hid most of the damage her flesh had endured, but the deep, weeping cuts that poked out from between them were enough to make Hayley’s stomach knot. Both Stacy’s eyes were black, her right badly swollen. The socket was so inflamed it looked as if someone had slipped an orange between her eyelids and glued them shut. A plaster hid the terrible gash across the bridge of her nose but Hayley could still see the edges of the deep cut extending beyond its edges. It was still red and raw, as were the long, hair width lacerations that traced the length of her right arm. The left one had been bandaged but dark spots were already beginning to appear, soiling the white linen. What flesh Hayley could see on Stacy Hughes was mottled black and blue. There was not an inch of normal complexion on her. But the worst part of all was not the bruises, or the cuts, or her eye. It was the missing part of her scalp. A large, square bandage covered almost all of the left side of her forehead. Her once lovely, curly blonde hair was nowhere to be seen on that side. On the right it only survived in ragged, bloodied clumps.
Alex had told Hayley that Stacy had been badly attacked and John had been snatched, but he had spared her the gruesome details. Despite her fear at what she would see and her angel’s reluctance, she wanted to see Stacy all the same.
Andrew sensed her discomfort. “Would you prefer to wait outside while we discuss matters?” he asked.
Hayley swallowed hard, finding it impossible to tear her eyes from what was left of Stacy. “No,” she said.
The angel looked to his son. “I have read her mind but I will not repeat what he did.”
Alex could only nod.
“Gabriel?” Hayley asked with her voice little more than a whisper. No one had said his name yet but she knew it was him all the same.
Andrew’s gaze flitted to where Stacy lay for a moment. “It was a group of his vampires, they are fallen angels.”
Incomprehension spread across Hayley’s face. She tried to ask why Gabriel had done such a horrific thing but could not find the words.
“He didn’t kill her because he wanted to send us a message,” Andrew said sadly.
Hayley felt Alex’s hand tighten in her fingers as the angel tensed.
“They never did anything to him…” he said coolly.
Hayley looked again at Stacy, oblivious to the world around her. “I don’t understand. If he’s here, why has Gabriel not just attacked us? Why John and his mum?”
Andrew glanced at Mrs Hughes but his expression remained stoic. “Because he wishes to frighten us,” he sighed, looking back to Hayley.
“And what about John? Where is he?”
Andrew hesitated. He looked to his son. “One of Gabriel’s vampires left a message in her thoughts for us, once he had finished torturing her.”
“And?” Alex urged him, his tone desperate.
“He said John would die unless you killed Hayley.”
Hayley shrunk back, her eyes wide with fear.
“An eye for an eye, he called it. To repay the debt for Lily’s death.”
Alex slipped his hand from Hayley’s and she saw him ball it into a fist. The guardian was shaking so much she thought he would burst.
“This is what it’s all still about...isn’t it?” he sai
d through gritted teeth. “He still blames me for his failings…” Alex cast a long look at the bloodied and beaten form of Stacy Hughes. “Well, no more.” The angel stormed from the room.
“Alexander!” Andrew called but he did not return.
Hayley hurried after him but when she reached the hall he was gone. She turned around, looking the other way. But the corridor was deserted. That’s when she disappeared.
Chapter Seven
“Hayley?”
Her eyes fluttered open and Hayley found herself staring up into her guardian’s face. Her head felt groggy. “Alex?” she muttered, closing her eyes again.
“Hey, I have you, it’s all right,” he whispered, lifting her up so her head came to rest against his shoulder.
Hayley felt her head loll into the crook of his neck but made no attempt to lift it. Her limbs felt as if they were made of lead. “I don’t feel well…”
“It’s only your flesh complaining, try to ignore it, kindred.”
Something inside her sparked at that word. A flush of strength and the fire died once more. She lay flopped against the angel throughout. “It’s strange…it didn’t hurt that time…” she muttered.
“Try to relax, sweetheart,” Alex whispered.
That was the first time Hayley realised they were moving. She had assumed up until that point in her semi-conscious state that the gentle swaying had been Alex rocking her to provide comfort. But she caught a glimpse of wooden stairs, disappearing one at a time behind him. She caught a figure in the corner of her eye but her vision was too hazy to see who it was. “Who’s that?” she mumbled, closing her eyes once more. But darkness took her before an answer reached her ears.
******
Hayley woke with a start, a whirlwind of dreams tumbling round in her head.
“It’s ok,” Alex said, grabbing her arm. Hayley stared at him as if he were a stranger. “Kindred?” he asked, looking concerned. She blinked and flung herself at him. Alex fell back into his large chair - feathers flailing from Hayley’s sudden pounce. Alex laughed but Hayley didn’t, instead choosing to bury herself into his chest. He could feel her shivering and squeezed her even more tightly. “It’s ok, Hayley, it’s ok.”
Hayley popped her head up and looked about. They were in a library. Every tall oaken shelf was stuffed to the gills with old tomes. A twist of her head the other way and she caught a proper look at the stranger on the stairs.
He sat in a chair opposite them, an old leather recliner, behind a small, round wooden table. The smile on his dark face was easy and his eyes sparkled green like emeralds catching the light, framed by a mane of black hair that was tidily brushed back. He wore simple flowing wheaten robes that gave away nothing about his status or office, but Hayley knew him all the same.
“Michael,” she said, without second thought.
His smile widened.
“You remember him?” Alex asked, stunned.
Hayley gave him a puzzled look. “I’m not sure…I don’t know…”
The archangel rose to his feet, his long white wings flexing behind them. Even at rest their plumage was easily twice as thick as Alexander’s. “You do know me, little one,” he said with a smile, crossing the short space that separated them. “You were my student before you were sent away to Earth. Also, I am sorry you were ill when you first arrived here. But those made of flesh are not meant to tread in Purgatory. I had to adjust you slightly so you would fit in, so to speak.”
Hayley stumbled to her feet. She looked herself up and down. Nothing seemed different. “What do you mean by adjust?” she asked curiously.
“Do not worry, it is nothing to fret about,” he smiled. Michael offered his hand. “It is good to see you again.”
Hayley stared at him for a long moment before accepting it. “Where are we?” Hayley asked, looking about the room. It was circular and small, but cosy. The walls were lined with bookshelves that curved with the contour of the wall. Hayley had noticed the shelves when she had woken up but she had not realised until now that they took up every wall of the room besides the small, arched window. They were packed with books, some as thick as Hayley’s arm. Across the room sat an old wooden desk littered with scrolls, quills and parchments. A white raven shuffled about on its perch beside it, twitching its head occasionally and blinking beady black eyes at the new arrivals.
“You are in my tower at Longtown,” Michael replied with a warm smile once again.
Hayley took in the room once more. “You said I was your student…” she said, looking back at him for an answer.
Michael’s emerald eyes flitted to Alex for a split second. It was the slightest motion - over in an instant - but Hayley had caught it and knew something had been exchanged between the angels. Michael drew a deep breath but continued to smile. “It would make no odds now for you not to know, given the gravity of current circumstances.”
Hayley shot a glance at Alex but said nothing.
“When you were first created, you walked among our kind for a thousand years. For most of that time I was charged with protecting you and teaching you. Then you left us, sent to the world of men on a mission.”
“Whose idea was that?”
“Your own, you volunteered,” he said gently.
Hayley regarded him suspiciously. “To do what exactly?”
The archangel’s smile faded. “Some things are best not discussed until the time is right.”
“Oh come on, that’s not fair. You can’t tell me that without telling me all of it.”
“Hayley,” Alex said, getting her attention. He shook his head, his look enough to silence her. The guardian turned his attention back to Michael. “We need your help. I would not have come here if things were not desperate.”
“You want me to protect her again while you go after Gabriel?” Michael asked knowingly.
“Yes,” Alex said, reluctantly.
“What? I never agreed to that,” Hayley said, folding her arms.
Alex sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment. “Hayley, please, now is not the time,” he implored her. “This is for your own safety. Gabriel is on Earth now. He attacked John and his mother only a few mere miles from your home and I did not sense him.” He shook his head. “The only way that is possible is if his powers are coming back and they must be at an alarming rate if he can now cross worlds at a whim without being detected.”
“So? You managed to beat him the last time he turned up in Glasgow.”
Alex shook his head. “Only because we tricked him. He was little more than a man that time in comparison to how strong he is now.”
“But you are stronger, Alex,” she said, stepping up to him.
Alex gently placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them, all the while gazing into her eyes. “But I’m not whole, Hayley, not without you and you know why we can’t go down that road.”
“I forbid you treading that road, Alexander, but nor will I allow you to leave your soul mate here,” Michael said, stepping in.
Alex turned to the archangel. He looked as if he had been struck. “But I can’t protect her against Gabriel anymore...”
Michael raised a hand to him and the guardian fell silent. “Regardless of everything, she is still your soul mate and connected to you, Alexander. You are sworn to keep her safe.”
“Then what do we do?”
Michael straightened, inclining his head. “I will help you recapture him.”
******
John could not remember ever having sat so still in his life. Twenty four hours living with fallen angels had changed all that. He feared to move without invitation, lest his captors think he was attempting to escape. He had already tried twice and had been floored on both attempts before he had even taken a single step. They afforded the teenager plenty of space in the rooms they held him in. Yet John knew it was because they could cross the distance that separated them in a heartbeat if need be. Their speed was terrifying. Once he had shifted in his seat to merely scr
atch his arm, only to have an overzealous angel whisk across the room and twist his arm behind his back, a blade directed to his neck. The wingless monster had thought he was reaching for some concealed weapon. If there had been one crumb of comfort though, the fallen in question had been heavily chastised by his comrades and banished to other duties out of sight - something John was most grateful for. But the teenager had ignored every itch and discomfort since, fearing a repeat.
John looked at the two that guarded him now. The taller of the two, the woman with waist length, raven black hair and sable eyes was standing with her back pressed against a bookcase, arms folded, watching the Glaswegian in return. She had a soft, unthreatening smile but John knew better. Regardless of what she was though, she talked to him the most and had proved to be the kindest of all his captors. All her comrades had ever given him were scowls and vile curses.
The other guard was a short, skinny man with salt and pepper hair. While his female counterpart had talked to John constantly, he had shunned the youngster at every turn. He seemed more interested in the old tomes that cluttered the large mahogany desk that sprawled before him than his captive. But when he did chance a look at John, the teenager always felt a chill run through him. The man’s eyes were the colour of ice.
The woman glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece above the disused fireplace. It had just turned 8pm. She glanced back at John. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” she asked. Her accent was American but from which part of the states she hailed, John could not say.
The teenager shook his head, keeping his gaze low.
“It’ll be time for him to eat again, I imagine,” said the other fallen angel, his eyes lost in the book before him. He sounded annoyed by this necessity.
The woman rolled her dark eyes. “He’ll only need fed a couple of more times and then you can go back to your books undisturbed. He’ll be gone by tomorrow night so you can stop complaining.”
