Knight Angels: Book of Love (Book One)

by Abra Ebner

  I hissed and lunged at him, wanting this devilish creation dead, though I wasn’t sure why. I landed a few feet before him, withholding for a reason I also was unsure of.

  “Wes,” His arms remained crossed, as though unafraid. “You need to remember who you are. This is not you. You are human. Remember that, Wes.”

  His words angered me. Why did he keep calling me Wes? I growled again, holding it deep in my throat.

  “Wes!” he yelled. “Wes, it’s me. Snap out of it.”

  I watched him, feeling the name grow on me.

  The man began to look annoyed. “Listen, Wes. Something has happened to Emily.”

  I stopped growling, a pang of sadness now replacing all else. Memories rushed back to me—a rosy face, a sweet smile, and best of all, a soft kiss.

  “Jane and I need your help, Wes. Emily is in grave danger.”

  I couldn’t help but hiss when he said the name Jane, as though it held some sort of bitterness inside me. Pieces began to fall together now, the face before me growing increasingly familiar until I knew his name.

  Max.

  Max smiled then. “That’s it. You do remember.”

  I felt suddenly uncomfortable. I wanted to change into something, but I couldn’t decide what.

  “Greg has Emily.” Max continued to coax my memories. “Greg, Wes. He has her. He will take her from us forever if we don’t act fast.”

  I let out a loud growl this time.

  “Please, Wes. I mean you no harm.” Max pulled a bundle from his belt hook and tossed it at my feet.

  I jumped back as a lump of fabric scattered across the forest floor. It was clothing. I looked up at Max.

  “I can’t do this alone, Wes. Come on. Come back to us.”

  His words were tempting, but how did I know he was telling me the truth? How did I know that what I felt was truly real?

  He smiled. “I don’t lie, Wes.”

  I hissed, angry that he could also read my thoughts. What was he?

  “Wes, I’m a guardian angel, and a member of a Priory that wants to protect what you are. But my brother is not, he means to do us all harm, and right now, it is Emily he has focused on. He hopes to recruit and brainwash her to his side. We cannot let this happen.” His voice was firm.

  I let my ears relax. What choice did I have but to believe him?

  I thought of this girl named Emily—her smile, her soft kiss. I thought the same of the girl named Jane. I heard Max move, and I looked back at him, seeing jealousy flash in his blue eyes. I felt a sense of smugness from that look, but it was quickly replaced by urgency.

  Shutting my eyes, I concentrated on the itch in my soul. Something inside me was beginning to surface, wanting out in a way that made me finally give in. I felt the hair of the cougar begin to shed, the chill of the forest now reaching my skin as I shivered. My back arched—my legs and arms stretching as the skin grafted to newly formed bones. When the transformation was complete, I lay on the ground for a moment, catching my breath.

  I looked up at Max. He had his back turned to me out of respect. A part of me thought to attack him.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Max said over his shoulder before I’d even gotten the chance to really consider the idea.

  I snorted, reaching for the clothes. “Can you really blame me for thinking it?” I heard the words leave my lips as though they weren’t my own. I was surprised by the ease of speech, like a forgotten best friend.

  He laughed.

  I pulled the jeans on, then the shirt, still finding it wasn’t enough clothing to keep me warm—not like the fur had. I rubbed my hands together, feeling tall as I stood on two feet. The muscles on my arms were tight and my back rigid. Max turned to face me.

  “Thank you, Wes.” Max forced a smile, though I could feel he disliked my continued thoughts on Jane.

  I examined the feathers on his back, circling him as he allowed me to observe. His face was a smug mask, as though proud—as though better than me.

  “Feathers, huh?” I asked, finding it a bit feminine.

  Max laughed. “We can’t all be cougars, Wes. And it’s not that feminine. Not like a feline can be.”

  I hissed out of habit, and it came out sounding lame. I felt frustrated. “So, what happened to Emily?” I grumbled, stopping to stand before him, still a good distance away in case he’d lied to me, leaving enough time to change and get away.

  “Greg came to her after you left. He played on her vulnerabilities, twisting her anger and jealousy into hate. Now she’s been sucked into his world, and the only way to get her out is with a special poison.”

  I nodded, shoving my hands casually into the pockets of the jeans. That’s when I realized that these were probably his jeans… I took my hands out of the pockets. “Special poison?”

  He nodded. “It’s from a rare Brazilian frog, but luckily for us, that rare frog won’t be so rare for you to replicate.”

  I felt smug as I puffed my chest. “And what will this poison do?”

  Max watched me with a smirk on his face. “It will poison the demon inside her, so that she can come back to us. It’s pretty run-of-the-mill stuff.”

  I thought about it for a moment, thinking that it really was rather serious, and certainly seemed anything but run-of-the-mill. I exhaled, letting the tightness in my chest go. “And then what?”

  “Then I’ll leave, and so will my brother,” Max said it with confidence, but it didn’t cover the hurt in his eyes, “…if that’s what you want.”

  My memories were returning now, and I recalled the reason why I was here to begin with. His attraction to Jane was deep, this I could tell from my own turmoil over the years, and the same quiver in his voice at the mention of her name. The jealousy I felt toward Jane was also deep, but there was one thing that set Max and I apart. Jane loved him back. I wanted Max to leave, but I also didn’t want to see Jane sad.

  “Why leave? Why not kill Greg instead?” The words were sweet on my tongue, still tasting the thrill of the hunt I’d felt with the deer this morning.

  Max took a step toward me, looking a little shocked by the fact I’d basically admitted that maybe he should stay—that maybe he was right for Jane, despite the fact that he had a strange set of wings and a smell of death that was somewhat unsettling. I guess to Jane, it was anything but.

  “If I kill him, it will be suicide. Our lives are linked. He dies, I die.”

  I reveled in the words, still seeing an opportunity to tease. “And that’s a bad thing?” I lifted one brow.

  Max smiled. “It would be, considering I’m Jane’s guardian angel. If I were dead, then she would be left extremely vulnerable to other attacks. She has a rare form of magick. My brother is not the only one out there that is hungry to see her bleed.”

  “Her guardian angel?” I was confused. What died and made him so privileged?

  “I saved her when her father died. If it wasn’t for me, she would be dead. Because of this she and I are bound. In a way, we always have been. I’ve been searching for her all my life, and—”

  I laughed, stopping him there. I wasn’t interested in hearing his sappy love story, especially when I had my own in reference to Jane. “So, you were always there. You watched her grow up?” I chuckled menacingly. “Well, that’s not creepy or anything.”

  Max had a half smile on his face, but said nothing, acting smug as though acknowledging me would mean stooping to my level of childishness.

  “So, how old are you?”

  Max looked at the sky, then the ground. “About a hundred years old.”

  “A hundred?” I gasped. “That’s gross, dude, seriously sick.” I shook my head. “So, what does being a guardian angel entail, exactly?”

  Max tilted his head, sizing up my question. “When I died, I wasn’t ready to go. I stayed behind, and so did Greg. I was an angel then, but saving Jane turned me into a guardian.”

  I snorted. “So you’re dead, like a ghost, or something?”

&n
bsp; Max shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Shouldn’t you be like, invisible? All smoke and cold air?” I thought of the ghost hunter shows I watched on the Discovery Channel.

  Max smirked. “I can be.”

  Just like that, he was gone. “Max?” I blinked, looking around the silent woods. I was alone. A cold chill fell over me, and I spun, my arms flailing.

  I heard Max’s laugh echo off the trees, his figure reforming beside me. I swung at him, but he lunged away from me, leaving a trail of black smoke.

  My jaw clenched, realizing I’d been fooled. “How are you dead if you’re here?” I spoke through clenched teeth.

  Max raised one brow. “I say I’m dead because I don’t really have a heart beat. It feels more like suspended animation, though I do age, only very slowly. I guess in that respect, some part of me is alive. The only life I feel, though, is Jane’s. She’s my connection to the human world I once loved.”

  I released my jaw. “Still, dude, that’s weird.”

  Max shook his head as he turned and walked away from me.

  “Hey! Max! Where are you going?” I yelled after him. “I wasn’t finished talking to you yet!”

  He lifted his hand over his shoulder as though to blow me off. I stared at the wings on his back as they slowly retracted into his spine. I stood still, grumbling under my breath. Max stopped then, looking over his shoulder and motioning me to follow.

  I growled one more time and gave in.

  Jane:

  I lay my head against the pillow, my sketchbook in hand as I re-traced a drawing I’d made long ago. There was a fiery lion standing in the woods, watching me as though protecting the ground I walked on. It had large wings, much like Max, but they were ablaze like the rest of its body. I’d always seen it as something evil, but when I looked again, its eyes in my memories had changed to something different—something friendly. I erased them, redrawing what I now saw before I laid the book beside me, its eyes following mine.

  Wes’s window was still dark, and Max hadn’t yet returned. My mother had gone to bed hours ago, so when Max did return, at least she wouldn’t notice his presence.

  I was excited to see Wes, and not because I found I’d had feelings for him, but because I missed him as a friend. Max had explained to me that he figured he’d taken to the woods, and I knew why. I was the only person in his life he could talk to. I sighed—at least other than Emily.

  The downhill slide of Wes and I’s friendship had happened fast, and being that Wes was someone that wasn’t fond of change, I was certain it had affected him on a deeper level than it had affected me. I felt guilty that he felt that way, but I couldn’t pretend to be in love with him when I saw that there could be someone better.

  I felt my eyes grow heavy, and though I wanted to wait up for them to return, I couldn’t. I felt the sweet velvety release of sleep wash over me, followed by a heavy mist. I woke in my dream as I lay in an old freestanding tub, my hair cascading out behind me as my head rest on the ledge. The water was cold, and the room grey. There was a window above me, shining white light across the walls. I moved and the water moved with me, splashing over the edge and onto the floor.

  I turned in the tub, looking behind me and into the vastness of room I was previously turned away from. The room was made of stone, signs of age showing upon its crumbling surface. There were two large mirrors on the wall, both coated with a thick layer of dust. Two more windows filled the far wall, light pouring through the glassless cavity.

  I shivered and placed my hands on the side of the tub, lifting myself out of the water as it ran down my body. I stepped from the tub, leaving a pool on the stone floor. Loose bits of sandy rubble dug into my feet, clinging to the dampness.

  A soft white dress hung from a hook on the wall. I reached for it. Pulling it over my head, it draped down my body, clinging to my skin. The house was abandoned. I knew this because there was no way someone could possibly live in such disarray. Some of the windows were missing glass, and leaves were blown into the corners of the room. I walked to the window and looked outside, seeing the yard was overgrown, the house surrounded by forest. I turned back to the room, walking to one of the mirrors. There was a basin of water and I ran my finger through it, seeing bits of organic debris swirl inside.

  I looked up into the mirror, but my own reflection was absent. I looked deeper into the mirror and then looked behind me, seeing it was indeed reflecting the room I was in, but still, I wasn’t there.

  Frightened, I backed away from the mirror, making my way to the door of the room. I grabbed the cold rusted handle and yanked hard. The door gave, but dragged across the rough floor as dust fell over me. Once the door was open wide enough, I hurried out, finding myself in a long dark hall. There were dusty paintings lining both walls, and a long thin table where leaves and old candles were scattered.

  I slowly made my way down the hall, debris crunching below my feet. I looked up at the paintings, but recognized no one. They wore clothing that was dated, clearly signifying both their age and social rank as they dripped with jewels. It was then that I heard someone crying, and my pace slowed in order to hear.

  The crying was low and even, like a small child. I walked in the direction of the cries, finding myself face to face with a large wood door at the end of the hall.

  “Hello?” I asked, but my voice was just a whisper.

  I knocked on the door, and as I did, the door opened slightly. I heard the cries clearer now, a whimper that was so sad, and so lost, that I felt it inside my own heart. I pushed the door open softly, looking in on the room that was beyond. The walls were just as grey as all the others, the light dusted with age. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, draped with white curtains and sheets. I walked in, treading lightly. As I drew close, I saw that there was someone lying on the bed, the cries coming from them. Mirrors were leaned up against the walls on either side, but still, I couldn’t see myself in them.

  I approached the foot of the bed, and the girl stopped crying.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  I circled the bed, the girl’s face now visible. At first I couldn’t recognize her through the sad expression, but as I saw the color of her familiar brown eyes, I knew it was Emily. Her skin was soft, her gaze void of the darkness I’d seen. I touched her auburn hair, comforting her as tears fell onto the bed.

  “Emily,” I whispered her name.

  She watched me, drying her eyes with a shaking hand.

  “Emily, you’re okay,” I continued. She still didn’t answer, but her eyes said what her mouth couldn’t. She was frightened. She was weak. I caressed her hair over and over, wanting to comfort her. This was my dream, and I knew she was only here in thought, but at least she was here—at least she had found me.

  Emily’s whimpers returned, but there was nothing I could do to reach her. I leaned down and kissed her head, humming to her the way I used to when she was small. She felt cold, but my own skin felt cold as well. She sniveled as I leaned back. Grabbing my hand, she looked at me, her eyes like darts.

  “Help me.”

  Jane:

  Something cold touched my arm and I was whisked from the dream, sitting up straight in bed with a yelp. I was met by a strong set of arms, wrapping me in a comforting chill. I looked up, the dim morning light glowing across half of Max’s face. I put my hand to my chest, taking a deep breath.

  Max smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he whispered.

  I was so relieved to see he was back that I wanted to kiss him, but I looked past him then, seeing Wes standing in the background with his arms crossed. Wes was wearing an outfit I’d never seen him wear before, in a style he hated. I smirked, knowing they were Max’s clothes.

  “You found him,” I gasped.

  Wes rolled his eyes. “I’m not giving you a reunion hug. Not after he touched you.” He sounded bitter, and I wasn’t about to press.

  I sat back against the headboard, still trying to shake away the dream. Wes looke
d different, though only a few days had passed. He seemed wild, taller, his eyes sharp and on edge—nothing was the same.

  “As I thought, he was easy to find,” Max replied, looking over his shoulder at Wes.

  Wes snorted, turning away from us. “I let you find me. That’s the only reason you did.”

  I giggled, knowing that wasn’t true. “So, what’s the plan?” My voice was low. The last thing I wanted was my mother waking up to find me alone at five thirty in the morning with two boys in my room.

  Max walked to my desk and sat in front of the computer, turning it on. “We need to get an antidote.”

  Wes still hadn’t looked me in the eye.

  I looked back at Max. “From where?”

  Max looked at Wes. “From him.”

  I furrowed my brow. “From Wes? How?”

  Max pulled something up on the screen, and I saw Wes take notice. He crept up behind Max, looking closely at the picture. His whole demeanor changed, as though he had seen the most amazing thing in the world. I squinted, trying to see for myself.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  Max sat back. “It’s an endangered frog from Brazil. A dart frog.”

  “A dart frog?” The screen displayed a small black and yellow frog.

  “Tribes used to use their secretions to poison darts that they’d then employ against their enemies. But more importantly, it was also used to rid their enemy’s of the devil inside them so that it wouldn’t haunt the tribe after the enemies death,” Max explained.

  I nodded. “So, we’re going to use it on Greg?”

  Wes finally looked at me. “No, Jane. We’re going to use it on your sister.”

  Wes’s voice was surprisingly deep and raspy. It was clear it had been a while since he spoke.

  I was confused. “But won’t that kill her? Hence the whole kill the enemy and rid it of the evil ghost thing?” My voice was louder now.

  No one answered me.

  “Max?” I pressed.

  He sighed. “It could kill her, but if we leave her the way she is, she’ll be as good as dead. If Greg gets what he wants then you’ll never know your sister as the girl you once loved ever again. She will be lost forever.”