by Maya Daniels
Panic grips me that he’ll get killed until his movements register in my brain. Muscles jump and twist under his tight black t-shirt and jeans as he moves his body in a beautiful, elegant dance of flips, twists, and turns, dropping abominations with each movement, keeping a clear circle around us; keeping me safe. A sleeve of tattoos covers his right arm but there’s not enough light to see them properly. No one else is around from my team and there is no sign of Adam. He must be some new hunter from an elite team. Just as I wanted to ask if he has seen the others, his movements place him between me and the light. His fist connects with the last standing demon’s head, sending it spinning and dropping to the ground, and for a split second I see him clearly. His eyes flash amber, making cold shivers pass through my body from head to toes.
“What the fuck are you?” My mind is spinning. In shock from losing Amanda and not seeing anyone else, I point my trembling gun at his face.
“So much gratitude in your actions for helping you, cupcake.” Huffing, he ignores the gun barrel staring him in the face and smooths his hair off his forehead with both hands. His biceps bunch up the sleeves of his shirt, pulling my eyes to trace them instead of paying attention to him.
“Stop moving or I will shoot you in the face! I asked, ‘what are you?’” My hand gets steadier the longer he keeps that smile on his stupidly handsome face.
“What I am is a long story, too long for it to be told here. The rogues are not all dead, more will come. I suggest we get out of here before that happens.” Dropping the smile, he starts to turn as if expecting me to just follow him because he told me to.
The sound of the gun going off echoes in the now eerily silent street, like a bomb has exploded a second before his knees buckle and he drops to all fours on the ground. I expect him to scream, maybe even die, although I wasn’t going for a kill shot. What I didn’t expect was for him to just grunt as if he were lifting something heavy, reach behind to the back of his left thigh, and dig out the bullet that is burning his skin with two claw-tipped fingers that morph back to normal as soon as they are out of his wound. My gun lowers slightly as my jaw hits my chest while I gape at him. A buzzing is too loud in my ears and my heart is jackhammering in my chest. I watch him lift himself up slowly until he is standing proud and tall, his shoulders thrown back, and he doesn’t even turn to look at me. Just his head turns to the side so I can see his perfect profile, which sends a zing to my lower belly and makes me shift on my feet uncomfortably.
“I see it won’t be easy to make you see that you don’t belong here. Next time you find yourself in a similar situation, I’ll be there to guard your back again. You’ll have the choice to come with me if you want to stay alive. If you decide to stay with your ‘friends’…the third time you’re in a similar situation, I will not be there to make sure you live. Think about that, cupcake. I’ll see you around!” Nodding his head once, he slinks back into the shadows so fast it takes a moment for my brain to decide to get into gear.
“Hey! Wait!” Rushing towards the house where I last saw the darkening of a shadow, I find nothing. “Come back, you coward!”
A deep, husky chuckle makes the hairs on my neck stand up straight and goosebumps cover my entire body. I spin around like a crazy woman, but there’s no one there. Hair flying around my face, chest heaving, and with a death grip on my guns, I keep turning around, looking, hoping I will notice something—anything. Anger bubbles up at his mocking chuckle, and lifting both arms, I start firing at everything around me, spinning in place. One of these bullets will find him if my eyes can’t. When only a click, click, can be heard and no more bullets are left, an ear-piercing whistle splits the suddenly quiet street.
“Helena! Stop shooting! You’ll kill us all!” Adam’s voice echoes somewhere from my right, and panting like I’ve run a marathon, I turn towards it.
“Where were you?” Glaring at him, I watch as he walks towards me from down the street. “Where are the others?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me.” Frowning, he slows down, looking around, confused. “You’re the first one I saw.”
“They were with you! Searching!” I’m snapping at him; uneasiness makes me want to scream at him and shake him to tell me where my team is.
“So? They’ll come out, just like I did. Need I remind you who is in charge of this mission?” Disapproval is clearly written all over Adam's face, but I couldn’t care less.
“Where were you when she needed you?” All the emotions I’d been suppressing from the moment I saw Amanda up until this second collided in me and I screamed at Adam’s face, flinging my hand towards my best friend’s body. He only frowns. “Don’t you even care that she’s dead?”
“Who’s dead?” His eyes flick from somewhere behind me to my eyes. “Helena, are you feeling well?”
Painfully slow and dreading every second, I turn to look behind me where I know Amanda’s lifeless body lay crumpled in a heap on the ground. What I find instead is the empty yard of a broken home. Confusion, fear, and dare I say, hope swirl in me, making me feel lightheaded. Maybe I imagined it all and she’s still alive. The bodies of the demons would’ve been long gone regardless. It takes half a minute to a minute for their bodies to disintegrate into shadows after they’re sent back to hell. The tiny sliver of hope that I had gets squashed like a bug when I see the pool of blood that was around Amanda’s body. She’s gone, but the blood is still there.
“She’s gone, but you can check the blood. It’ll confirm it was her. The demon killed her. I didn’t get to her in time.” My voice breaks and sounds hollow to my own ears.
“Demon? What are you talking about! We wasted time here in this dead suburb while other places may need our help! Stop playing games and let’s get the others.” He turns to walk away just as I notice the other three from my team coming our way.
“You find anything?” Adam askes them, but none of them are looking at him. Their eyes are on me as they come to stand where we are.
In a monotone, I tell them, “Amanda is dead.”
Cass gasps, grabbing her mouth with both hands, and Jared catches her in a tight embrace, pressing her head to his chest. George takes a few long strides and grabs my shoulders, staring at my eyes like he is searching for something.
“Stop with the nonsense this instant!” Adam snaps, but we all ignore him.
“Are you okay?” George askes softly, but I just press my lips together and shake my head jerkily. No, I’m not okay at all.
Clenching his jaw, he pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. Sobs rack my frame and I feel him press his face against my hair while his body shakes with my tremors. Cass is weeping, while Jared’s voice is breaking as he tries to soothe her. In the middle of it all, Adam keeps snapping about me hallucinating, or fear finally getting to me and I’ve started to see things. We all stop and stand frozen when a menacing growl can be heard all around us. Separating, we all turn around, pressing back to back.
“Where did it come from?” I hear Adam’s voice from somewhere behind me, but I’m not paying attention to him. What has my full attention is the shadow in the form of a sculpted man separating itself from the corner of the house I’m facing. Amber eyes flash for a second, just long enough to wink at me before it again blends into the darkness and disappears.
“Maybe we should spread out. They might finally show up!” Adam says excitedly.
“No one is showing up!” Straightening up, I turn towards my team. “We should go back to the sanctuary.”
“And how do you know?” Adam snaps, his face turning red in anger.
Looking over my shoulder I search the shadows for a second, but I don’t see him again. I can feel him watching though, and I want to get out of here. “I just know.”
The library is full of people. Most of them I know, but there are a few I’ve never seen before. This situation is something I’ve heard about but never experienced, because my team has always been dispatched and returned with the same number of hunte
rs. I’ve never been behind closed doors when a team loses a member. That’s not the case tonight. Tonight, one is missing, and I feel like I’m not even present in the vast room although my body is here, standing amid the chaos. The sounds seem muted, like I’m hearing them from underwater, the masses only blurred shapes that angrily flail their arms. Everyone is shouting, and accusing fingers are pointed left and right as if that will somehow magickly bring my best friend back. Not one of them says her name. All I can hear is ‘the hunter’ is missing, or ‘the hunter’ is dead.
“She has a name.” Although I know my words are barely spoken above a whisper, they sound like a scream inside my head.
The shouting continues. No one is paying attention to how broken I feel or how my teammates are dealing with the loss of their friend. The three of them stand mutely around me as well, lost in their own pain and thoughts. We’re not important at the moment. From what few words penetrate my barely-functioning brain, the most important thing is that we have one less hunter. I hear something about things changing and the tides turning, but nothing makes sense to me at the moment. A human being died. A young life full of hopes and dreams was snuffed out tonight while doing the right thing and trying to protect those that can’t protect themselves. Does that not deserve a moment of quiet to acknowledge it and mourn before the goals or plans are brought to the forefront of everyone’s minds? Something keeps building inside my chest, and it presses on my ribs painfully, making my entire body tremble where I stand.
“SHE HAS A NAME!” My voice booms with so much strength that all the noise stops, and you could hear a pin drop. It’s almost as if no one is even breathing. “She has a name,” I repeat calmly, my vision finally clearing as I turn my head, looking at all the faces around me. “Was she not worthy enough to be called by her name?” My searching eyes lock with Hector’s blue ones where he stands behind that stupid table. He’s leaning on the table, his hands clenched into fists. “Amanda! Say it!”
“Ah! You must be Helena!” It’s not Hector that speaks, and my eyes snap to his right where a very tall, handsome man I’ve never seen before stands with his arms crossed. When the hell did he get there? “You were right, Hector.” Dismissing me, he turns his head towards my father.
“Excuse you?” Glaring at him, I clench my fists at my sides so I don’t grab my guns and shoot the asshole.
“She’s full of fire. I should’ve come to see for myself long before today.” The asshole keeps talking like I haven’t spoken.
“Helena!” Hector’s voice is full of warning since he hasn’t taken his eyes off me. He looks like he is about to have a panic attack.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Seething as I address my father, I fling a hand towards the asshole. “And why won't you at least say her name? For all intents and purposes, she was your daughter as much as I am!”
“Language!” the asshole snaps, glaring at me with a look of disapproval on his face. “She…” Taking a calming breath and composing himself, he clears his throat. “Amanda was neither the first nor will she be the last hunter that we lose. You should celebrate the life she had and honor her courage because she died fighting for what she knew was right. She gave her life to keep evil at bay. She did the right thing!”
I can feel everyone in the library holding their breath. I have no idea who this asshole thinks he is, but he is staring at me so intently I can almost feel his gaze trying to pierce my brain. His blond hair is perfectly combed and styled, slicked away from his face, and light blue eyes that almost look like glass are staring at me, unblinking, framed in long, thick lashes that I want to reach up and pluck off one by one as my anger keeps building inside me. Massive arms are crossed over a large, defined chest with a tight black shirt stretched over it. He is maybe a head taller than Hector, towering over the table that hits the middle of his tree trunk thighs that are wrapped in black cargo pants. The dark clothing only emphasizes his sculpted ‘golden boy’ appearance. Porcelain skin is stretched over a perfect face that would’ve taken my breath away if he didn’t have that glare on it or if he’d kept his mouth shut.
“She would not have died if we’d been given the right information on where we were going!” Taking an unconscious step towards him, I glare back. Someone, and by the tight grip I’m assuming it’s George, grabs my arm, but I yank it from his grasp, not looking away from the target of my anger. “Many would’ve still been alive if we’d known exactly what the fuck was going on instead of having a piece of paper with nothing but coordinates on it, and a vague direction that it could be a large nest and to stay alert. You think you’re doing any of us any favors by keeping your doors closed while you’re hiding shit? Look where that has taken us so far!” I’m so angry that I wouldn’t be surprised if I started breathing fire soon. The asshole looks so excited at my anger his eyes are practically sparkling with it. “And who the hell are you to tell me why she died?”
“Michael, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t understand…” Hector starts jabbering as if trying to excuse my actions, but the asshole lifts a hand in his face, shutting him up mid-sentence. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
We stand for a few long moments, staring at each other, neither one willing to back down. Slowly his glare turns into something I can’t name, and alarms start blaring in my head, loud enough that my hands instinctively go to my guns. At my reaction, his bow-shaped lips, the lower fuller than the upper, twitch in a suppressed smile. A shimmering glow starts sparkling around him, and my entire life turns upside down when two massive wings burst out of his back, making a few people, including Hector, stumble out of his way. My jaw drops to the floor as I watch him wide-eyed, and that finally makes his smile stretch his lips in a very arrogant way. There is no warmth in his smile.
“Hello, Helena. I’m Archangel Michael. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
The gasps, the people dropping to their knees while others groan as if pained about this whole thing, tells me I’m not the only one in here who thought that when the patrons spoke of the Archangels, they meant it figuratively. Not all of us were apparently aware that the Archangels actually came here to talk with them. From the corner of my eye, I see Hector grab his forehead with his hand, his chin dropping to his chest while I’m still looking dumbfounded at the Archangel, who ruffles the feathers of his wings like a peacock trying to attract a mate.
“Does this mean you can do something to bring Amanda back?” I hear myself asking, although a million other questions are wreaking chaos in my head.
“No,” Michael merely says, still not looking away from me, as if he is waiting for me to do something.
“Then what good are you to us here?” The gasps that echo around me sound outraged, but I really don’t give a damn. “Unless you can give us the information we need or bring back those we care about who died—doing your bidding, need I remind you—what good are you to us? Or should I have fainted out of excitement for seeing you in all your golden glory? Why aren’t you there with us, fighting for, as you say, what is right?” Crossing my arms over my chest so he doesn’t see my hands trembling, I square off with him. I might not have wings and I’m only up to his chest if I stand next to him, but I have more attitude than he has ego.
“There are many battles, Helena. Most are worse than what all of you are dealing with here. Those battles are the ones you don’t see.” He is trying to sound comforting, but what he says sounds so patronizing that my anger from earlier spikes up again.
“I don’t give a fuck about what I don’t see, oh Holy Greatness!” Snapping at him, sarcasm dripping from each word, I came back full circle back to my anger. “What I do see, however, is you thinking we’re expendable. One more nameless-to-you hunter is gone. Big fucking deal! There are a lot more idiots where that one came from.”
“Hel, please stop. This is not the way,” Cass mumbles, grabbing my hand and holding onto it like it’s her lifeline. I turn my head to look at her while I’m panting with the effort to not sta
rt screaming from the top of my lungs. Her dark eyes are red and puffy from crying and shimmer with unshed tears. “This won’t bring her back. I know you’re hurting, and I am too, but this…” She looks around, and I follow her gaze, seeing everyone around us looking at me with mixed emotions written on their faces. “This isn’t doing any good. Please!”
“Helena, that is enough! Not one more word from you!” Hector’s voice startles me and my head snaps in his direction. He’s never screamed at me like this in my life. The shock of it renders me speechless as I gape at him. “Am I clear?” His eyes are hard as they stare at me, and mutely, slowly, I nod my head a few times. Turning away from me, his eyes are the last thing to move away after his entire body turns towards the Archangel. He takes a deep breath, composing himself. “I apologize for her behavior; she was raised better. She’s hurting, badly. She and Amanda grew up together. They were almost like siblings.”
The Archangel hasn’t taken his eyes off me the entire time. Ignoring my father, his arms drop to his sides, and he whirls around, walking around the table and simultaneously slapping Hector in the face with his wing. Hector flinches but only closes his eyes as if pained and his nostrils flare slightly. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he clenches his teeth and presses his mouth into a thin line. I would’ve missed it if I weren’t frozen in place by the angel’s behavior and still staring at my father.
Pinpricks cover my body a moment before the angel’s shadow announces his nearness to me. Grinding my teeth so I don’t flinch from it, I clench my fists and turn towards him. The closer he gets, and he is sauntering as if that will intimidate me more, my head goes up, maintaining eye contact until my chin is almost pointing at the ceiling. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, and it feels so deceptively comforting, just like the warmth of the sun on a chilly day. It's deceptive because it contradicts the cold look in his eyes that are locked on mine.
