Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  Jenna stumbled back, her grunt of pain a satisfying sound to my ears. Hell, I almost smiled.

  Lance growled, his lips pulled back and his body crouched to pounce on me.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you, little puppy,” said Kora, who’d jumped to the floor and put herself in the dog’s face, her back arched and her yellow eyes alight with a promise of pain.

  Tyrius leapt off the chair to join Kora. “I’d listen to the wife if you don’t want your meat suit to end up in a doggy bag.”

  Her hand still on her jaw, Jenna looked at me, her own anger growing.

  “What?” I sneered. “More? I’ve got loads more. I’ve got all night to kick your sorry ass back to Horizon. I’ve got nothing else to do now that you screwed everything up.”

  Jenna straightened slowly. “I was just following orders. Nothing personal.”

  “Oh, but it is personal, you glowing bitch,” I said, my blood seeming to seep out of my pores. “You tried to kill my sister. Your friends tried to kill me too.”

  “Only because you got in their way,” she answered, and I saw Gareth tense, his hands in his coat pockets. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m sorry about that.”

  I pointed my soul blade in her face. “I should have never trusted you.”

  “You must see the bigger picture here,” said Jenna, her eyes on me. “I had orders to get the Holy Grail and kill your sister if she got in the way. I didn’t want to do it, but in battle sometimes we have to make difficult choices. One life in order to save thousands. It was the logical thing to do. We had to keep Lucian from getting the Holy Grail.”

  “And how did that work out for you?” I took a breath. “He has it now. Game over.” I pointed my blade towards the door. “Get the hell out. The only reason I’m not slicing you up into angel cubes is because I’m tired, and I don’t want the Legion hunting my ass again.” My face twisted in a snarl. “You’ve got ten seconds to get out before I change my mind. Out. Now.”

  “You’re right,” said Jenna, her voice sharp but her anger easing. “We screwed up. Lucian has the Holy Grail. But we can still stop him.”

  “We?” I laughed dryly. “Are you high on your stupid pills? There’s no we. There never was a we. You made that perfectly clear when you hid your true plans from us.”

  Jenna moved her hand around her jaw. “You can hate me all you want. I’m not here to be your friend.”

  “Hallelujah.” The bitch must be smoking crack if she thought we could ever be friends, or this was her attempt at redemption.

  The angel sighed in irritation, and my lips quirked into a smile. “We need to stop Lucian.”

  I lifted my hands in annoyance. “There’s that damn we again,” I said, making Tyrius snort.

  “If he gets his wings back,” pressed Jenna, her eyes flashing with fear, “Horizon will fall. Angels will die. He will destroy it.”

  “Lucian getting his wings back is not my problem,” I said, waving my weapon at her. “He’s your problem now. Deal with it.”

  “He’ll destroy humanity next,” she said. “Is that what you want?”

  I glowered. “Don’t patronize me, angel. I’m done with your bullshit.”

  “Here! Here!” said Tyrius. He gave a daring look at Lance, testing the dog to see if he’d react.

  My brow furrowed in anger and frustration. “What he does with the Holy Grail is not my problem. This is on you. On the Legion. On all of you. Leave me the hell out of it.” I was getting tired of repeating myself. If she didn’t leave in the next few seconds, I was going to cut out her pretty eyes.

  Jenna’s jaw clenched and then relaxed. “Do you care what happens to Layla? Or have you forgotten about her already?”

  I stilled. “You do have a death wish.” I moved forward until I was right in her face and could practically count the fake pores on her face—a face I was about to cut up.

  This time, Lance did move forward a step, his growl loud, echoing in the kitchen like the howl of a pack of wolves.

  “You wake Gran,” warned Kora, her fur rising around her and her tail slashing in a silent threat, “and there’ll be hell to pay, pup.”

  “Rowyn,” cautioned Gareth. I felt the air shift behind me and his voice nearing as he made his way closer. “Take it easy. Let’s all just take it easy.”

  But I wasn’t listening. “You dare bring up my sister’s name to me like that? After you tried to have her killed? Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat right now just because I hate the way you smell?”

  Jenna never looked away from my glare. “I’m not here to harm you, Rowyn.”

  Gareth stepped in my line of sight. “She’s right. She hasn’t drawn her weapon. Back off, Rowyn.”

  I didn’t move. “How do I know she didn’t bring back-up? There could be a hundred angels waiting just outside to kill us all.”

  “There aren’t,” answered Lance, but I kept my eyes on Jenna. If her hand moved a muscle, I was going to gut the bitch. “It’s just me and Jenna. We came to ask for your help.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “If you help us find the Holy Grail,” expressed Jenna, eyebrows high, “we’ll help Layla in return.”

  I narrowed my eyes and said sourly, “What kind of crap is spewing out of your mouth now? Do you take me for an idiot?”

  Jenna looked affronted. “It’s the truth. The Holy Grail can save your sister.”

  I stiffened. “I’m not buying your bullshit anymore, angel,” I shot back at her.

  Jenna’s eyes flashed with sudden anger and she opened her mouth to say something but then closed it. “You said it yourself. The Holy Grail has healing properties. It can lift the curse and eliminate the darkness from your sister. It can remove it completely from her. She’ll be like she was before. She’ll be Layla again.”

  I clenched my jaw until it hurt. “Tyrius?”

  “The bitch seems to be telling the truth.” Tyrius thought about it a moment. “This could be what you wanted all along, the celestial power to remove the darkness,” he added, his voice hopeful, and it rendered my chest tight.

  Could this really be true? Could Layla be saved?

  The tightness of Jenna’s features eased, the distant glint of a victory in her eyes. “You help us get the Holy Grail back and your sister will be saved.”

  I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t believe for one minute that if I got my hands on the Holy Grail, the angels would take the time to heal Layla from the curse. But I was going to make them do it, or I was keeping the cup.

  I thought about it a moment. “If that is true, why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “It wasn’t my call. I was just—”

  “Following orders,” I finished. “No minds of your own, eh. Just a cluster of glowing robots.”

  Both Kora and Tyrius laughed, the sound like wind chimes in my ears—lovely. I realized how much I missed just sitting around with them, talking and laughing. That was my normal. And I missed it. I wanted it back—a chance at my normal again.

  Jenna glowered but she said nothing. She needed me. That was obvious. It was the only reason she’d risk showing up here when she knew I might kill her ass. That was very interesting.

  I took a step back. “You said you know where Lucian is?”

  “Yes,” said Jenna, the relief in her expression obvious.

  “Not in the Netherworld, I gather?” I said as I sheathed my blade.

  Jenna shook her head, visible tension leaving her body. “He can’t take the Holy Grail to that cursed world for what he needs to do. It can never enter. If he tried, he would cross over and the Grail would be left behind.”

  “So how does he get his wings back? Does he need to drink from it?” I wondered if he was going to drain Layla’s blood, and fear shook me.

  “He’ll need to perform the ritual first. It’s a very complex ritual that only a few angels are aware of. There are components, ingredients he needs to gather.”

  “Like what?”

  Jenna
regarded me with luminous, unblinking eyes. “He needs blood of the believer and blood of the fallen. He needs the essence of both shadow and light.”

  And then it hit me. “He’s going to sacrifice Layla for his wings.” Oh, God. I had to find her.

  “When all the components are gathered,” said Jenna, her expression pulled tightly, “he’ll combine them all into the Holy Grail, and then he will drink from it. Giving him his wings back.”

  My pulse throbbed and I felt sick. This could have been me. Lucian could have used me all along for this damned cup. Now, Layla was going to lose her life over it. I wasn’t about to let that happen. I wouldn’t let her die. If there was a chance the Holy Grail could save her, I was going to do whatever it took to get it.

  I exhaled loudly. “How long do we have?”

  “A couple of hours,” answered Jenna. “This ritual is long. It’ll take him hours just to prepare it. Enough time to find him and stop him before he has the chance to finish it.”

  “What else?”

  Jenna arched her brows. “The ritual needs to be completed right before sunrise. Otherwise he’ll have to start over again the following night.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “And your orders are to have me help you find the cup, and then you’ll use it to cure Layla?”

  “Yes,” nodded the angel. “My orders are to lift the curse from your sister with the Holy Grail. You have my word.”

  Tyrius snickered. “The word of an angel blows cosmic farts.”

  I had to agree with my kitty cat on that. My gut told me something was off here.

  I frowned at her. “Why me? I’m just a lonely Hunter. You’re angels and have a Legion to back you up. How do you expect me to defeat the archdemon in the middle of a ritual he’s been planning for years? With my charm? He’ll probably have an army of demons with him. Oh. And he’ll have Layla of course.”

  I paused at something that flickered across Jenna’s face when she looked down at Lance.

  “What?”

  Jenna shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable. “There’s something else.”

  “I knew it!” snarled Tyrius. “There’s always a catch with these bloody angels.”

  I turned at the cat’s voice, my strain rising so fast I felt lightheaded. “What are you not telling me?” I didn’t like the tension that was growing between the two angels. “You want my soul or something?” I laughed, though it didn’t sound convincing.

  Jenna pressed her lips together. “Mortals can’t touch the Holy Grail or any other holy instrument—not without dying a horrible, painful death.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll wear gloves.” Jenna shook her head so I added, “I saw Layla hold the Grail.”

  “So did I.” Jenna folded her hands before her. “Which mean she’s not your sister anymore. It means she’s changed. To be honest… I don’t know what she is, but she’s not a full-fledged demon. She’s something else. Something we’ve never seen before.”

  “That’s just great.” I took a deep breath. “And you swear the Holy Grail can still save her? Even now if she’s turned into something you don’t know?”

  “Yes. The Legion confirmed it. The Holy Grail can remove the dark curse from her.”

  I shrugged. “I’m still not following why you need me. I’m mortal.”

  The angel was nodding her head. “The Holy Grail is a powerful object, and it was fairly easy to trace its source energies to an abandoned cemetery. But it’s heavily protected by demonic magic and wards,” she said, speaking quickly. “The wards are impregnable barriers. Only beings with demonic essence can get through.”

  My gaze flicked between the two angels. “Which means you can’t.”

  “We can’t.” Jenna shook her head. “Not without dying a true death.”

  That was just too weird. “I’m confused,” I said. “If neither of us can retrieve the Holy Grail… I still don’t get why you’re here.”

  Jenna was staring at me, her hazel eyes wide.

  My heart pounded and then settled. “What?”

  The angel’s posture shifted, her gaze darting from me to Gareth and her hands at her sides twitching with tense energy. “If there was a way to save your sister,” she said finally, “but there was a chance you might die, would you do it?”

  A faint feeling of trepidation slid under my skin at how she’d said it. “I would have to try.”

  “Even if it means you might die?”

  I took a breath. “Yes, yes, yes. What? What is it?”

  “Rowyn.” Tyrius moved closer to me and put a paw on my boot. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  I looked down at the cat and then back at Jenna. “If there’s something I can do to save her, I’m all in. I’ll do it.”

  Jenna pressed her lips together. “If you’re absolutely sure…”

  “I am,” I said, my voice rising. “Tell me what I have to do, damn it.”

  Jenna took a step closer to me, the scent of citrus filling my nose. “To save your sister,” she said, “first… you must die.”

  Then she stabbed me in the heart.

  22

  When Jenna had said I might die, I didn’t realize she meant it literally as in right now.

  As it was, the angel stabbed me in the heart with her soul blade. I was dying and I hadn’t even gotten the Holy Grail yet.

  The strange thing, though, was I didn’t even feel any pain. Of all the countless times when I thought I was actually dying, there had been real pain, buckets of excruciating pain. This time, I was numb.

  My lips parted as I stared at the gleaming silver hilt of a soul blade perforating my heart. A dark, red stain blossomed on my shirt above my navel and spread through the fabric. Damn. That was a lot of blood.

  That traitorous bitch had stabbed me.

  I hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t even seen this coming. I was losing my touch.

  And now I was dying.

  Of all the places I thought I’d die, in my gran’s kitchen was not one of them. I couldn’t well save Layla or stop Lucian if I was on my way to the Netherworld.

  On my way to the Netherworld . Oh, hell.

  Shouts rang in my ears, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. The words were faint like thin whispers, as though they came from far away in the distance until I couldn’t hear anything at all.

  The hilt of the soul blade shimmered and shifted until it was see-through like a hologram and then disappeared entirely, as though it was never there. So did the blood. So did everything around me.

  My lungs were starving for air. I couldn’t breathe. They were on fire. My ears stopped working. At least that’s what it felt like, or someone had jammed them with cotton balls.

  The kitchen shifted, like layers of it peeled away leaving only air, nothing. I realized my feet weren’t touching the floor anymore. I was weightless, floating.

  Stuck halfway between memory or reality, I hung, able to think, as though my brain was on standby, waiting for instructions, though muddled.

  Silence. I was alone. But where? Where was I going?

  After a long time, or perhaps no time at all, I realized I wasn’t afraid. I was most certainly dead and on my way to the Netherworld. Still, I wasn’t afraid. I was overcome with the sudden feeling of peace. Curious . I should be scared shitless, but I was calm and content.

  I felt my body detach like the shedding of old skin. I couldn’t feel it anymore, as if it no longer existed. Blind and deaf, I remained in the middle of nothing, swaying, while above me the undead brought the ceiling down.

  Very weird. I wasn’t sure if my eyes were open or if I even still had eyes, but there was a light. A white light welcomed me. Secure and warm, I soared towards the overwhelming light, as though I was being drawn up into a beam of sunlight like a speck of dust.

  I saw a pinpoint of dark shadow in the distance. As I drifted towards it, the shadow expanded into a structure with white walls.

  This wasn’t the Netherworld. This was somethin
g else.

  I felt a hard surface under my boots. Bright mist surrounded me, like I’d stepped into a cloud. The mist lifted, like a vapor. If I could see, I must have eyes. For a moment I was surprised that I still had my clothes on and my boots. I existed. I had a sense of touch. I looked down at my chest. There was no blood or any evidence that Jenna had stabbed me. I touched my face. I had a face. I was solid, though I didn’t feel warm or cold, but simply just there.

  Blinking, I looked around. I stood in a room with white walls and a white floor. Books and filing cabinets were stacked precariously all the way to the ceiling, and what looked like a five-foot round pool was mounted in the back corner. An office. An office with a pool. What the hell was I doing in an office with a pool?

  If you had told me that when I died I’d end up in Horizon, I would have told you to stop drinking.

  It didn’t matter what you called it; Horizon, heaven or Shangri-La, it was the same thing. The afterlife. The world where the angels and all other celestial creatures resided. I’d always thought I had a first-class ticket to Netherworld, especially after everything I’d done and everyone I’d killed. I just never expected the afterlife to be an office.

  A noise reached me through the formed nothingness that surrounded me, the sound of a throat clearing.

  The smallest man I’d ever seen sat on a large crystal ball behind a semi-circular wooden desk. He wore a silver gown, and his long white beard and hair flowed down past his chest. He reminded me of a miniature sized Merlin the wizard.

  “There you are, Rowyn. Right on time,” he said in a strange, high-pitched voice that sounded like he had inhaled helium from a balloon.

  I stared at the little man. He knew my name? That was creepy. Still, my apprehension faded at the sight of this man’s cheerful face.

  I took a careful step forward, glad to find that my body seemed to maneuver the same way here, wherever here was, just as it did back in the mortal world.

  “Where am I?” I asked, finding myself relieved that my voice was the same as well. “Uh, is this Horizon?” The man’s skin radiated in a soft silver light, much like the angels, though I’d never seen one so small.