by Mandy Lee
“I just got a really fucking strange request for an appearance at Halja and I’d rather not go in completely blind. I’m not a fan of torture, so if he’s pissed at me and you can find out, a heads up would be great. Maybe he’s got something else up his sleeve; I just don’t know what to make of this.” Luc slid the bloody, folded parchment across the table to Baal who unfolded and skimmed through it.
“Definitely outside of the norm.” Baal re-folded the message and slid it back to Luc, keeping his eyes trained on the table. “The only weird rumor that comes to mind is something I heard from a succubus I was…friendly with recently.” Luc and Sam raised their eyebrows at each other. B was “friendly” with a lot of women. Pillow talk was his best form of intelligence gathering. “She has some contacts inside the castle. Her brother’s being held there and she’s trying to find a way to get him out. Anyhow, I guess she was doing one of her brother’s guards to get intel and he let slip something about a Chimera.”
The three of them sat in silence mulling it over. Sam frowned and shook his head in confusion. “I don’t get it. Chimera don’t exist anymore. The last one was killed centuries ago. Even if they did still exist, what the hell would Satan want with one of them?”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t think much of it — figured it was bullshit.” B shrugged. Sam drummed his fingers on the table and looked at his friends. “Ok, suppose this is true. What do we know about the Chimera?”
Luc’s eyes widened and he paled visibly. Sam and B both looked at him, concern etched on their faces. “What?” They asked simultaneously.
“Oh, fuck no!” Luc said vehemently. “The Chimera were mosaics. They were able to absorb the powers and abilities of both demons and angels into their own bodies. They weren’t tied to the light or the dark, but they could bind their souls to another, giving them access to their power. That’s not the worst of it. They could travel to any realm without repercussions at will. That’s why they were terminated centuries ago — neither side of the equation wanted to leave that door open.”
B and Sam’s jaws dropped in unison.
“So, what you’re saying is…”
Luc cut Sam off. “If Satan has found a living Chimera, he can bind himself to it and start a war…on earth and in Heofon. The balance would be destroyed.”
“Good thing you paid attention in history class.” Baal said, horror stamped on his usually sunny face.
They may be fallen angels; they may be working for Satan, but that didn’t mean they wanted to see the world around them or their former home in the heavens destroyed. It would be a disaster of epic proportions. The human world would be decimated — Satan would turn it into hell on earth. Luc shoved his chair back and leapt to his feet, tossing some Sheolic ducats on the table in payment for the beer. “I’ve got to head out. We need to find out if he’s just blowing smoke up his minions’ asses or if he’s actually found a Chimera.”
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Sam shouted as Luc marched purposefully away from the table.
Turning back toward his friends, he gave a tight smile. “Someone owes me a favor.”
Chapter Two
Standing in the wings of the Metropolitan Concert Hall, Katia took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out slowly. Pre-concert nerves always hit just before the lights dimmed. It didn’t matter how many shows she had performed over the many years she’d been a concert violinist the butterflies before show time always made their appearance. She listened to the chatter of the audience taking their seats and shuffling programs.
One last peek in the mirror, then it was time to grab her violin and take her place center stage beside the piano. Katia walked over to the full-length mirror a few feet behind her. She took a deep breath and looked herself in the eye. Her reflection stared back at her. Pale skin, full, pink lips, delicately-arched brows, defined cheekbones and jawline. Her waist-length fall of thick, jet-black hair had been lightly curled and pinned away from her face at the temples, the remainder fell in waves down her back. Everyone always said she looked like a perfect porcelain doll until they noticed her eyes — ice blue on the left and a light emerald green on the right. Heterochromia. Her doctor had told her that one of her parents must have had the same genetic anomaly.
Not that Katia would ever really know for sure; she’d been adopted as a baby and raised by a wonderful and loving set of parents who passed away shortly before her twenty-fifth birthday. A decade later she still missed them with all her heart. In many ways it felt as though she had been frozen in time on the day of her parents’ accident. Katia still didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Friends and acquaintances always said it was good genes, but Katia had always felt there was something else to it. Like her eyes, it was another sign that she just wasn’t ‘normal.’ Though her family had been wonderful, she’d just never managed to shake that feeling that she was on the outside looking in.
She sighed and smoothed her hands down her trademark strapless, black satin evening dress. The black ink of the phoenix tattooed on her right inner forearm stood out starkly against her pallor. She’d gotten the tattoo after her parents’ death, symbolic of her rising out of the ashes of the depression that had consumed her for months.
Katia was known in the concert circle as the Angel of the Night. Her dark, soulful, melancholic violin pieces were what had made her famous. The unshakeable darkness that had descended upon her in the absence of her family — the only people with whom she’d felt connected — had made her gravitate toward compositions that pierced her heart. The music allowed her to feel something, even if it was pain and sadness. When she played she exorcised the darkness that had pervaded her life. Every night on stage she was baring her soul to the audience, scars and all.
Oddly, it was the dark shadow of depression eclipsing her life that had ultimately led to her greatest musical success. Prior to the accident, Katia had been well-known in the musical world, however it had been as a part of a string quartet. Now audiences packed the concert hall whenever she was billed to play in order to share in the cathartic experience.
Sergei, her pianist, came over to do a last minute check in the mirror. “Two minutes to show time, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?” He moved to stand behind her with his hands resting on her shoulders. Katia gave a small smile and nodded to their joint reflections. He really was a sweet man. He was also a handsome man — dark hair and fair like her, light brown eyes that caught the light and twinkled with laughter, with a friendly, open face. He had an easy smile for everyone and always seemed to be there in a crisis. He truly cared for everyone in his life.
Sergei squeezed her shoulders and moved away toward the piano at center stage. The curtains were closed and the lights were dimming. Sergei was a fantastic guy. Katia should want to be with him, but she had never felt that electric connection with him that she thought should be there. On the surface, they were perfect for each other. They were both professional musicians…creative people. Though he was almost ten years her junior, they looked the same age. They’d been performing together for five years, and there was likely nobody that knew her better. Katia was naturally a very private person; Sergei was really the only one she’d even given a glimpse of her personal life within the last decade. All her other relationships were very superficial. He wanted more from her. He was the logical choice, but not her heart’s choice. Sometimes she thought, Screw my heart. Maybe it’s time to listen to my brain, but she still hadn’t been able to bring herself to take that step. They were stuck in limbo, each other’s perpetual date to music industry functions, but nothing beyond that. Sergei had kissed her once after a performance as they had been leaving the concert hall. It had been pleasant, but hadn’t set her on fire. Maybe, she thought, the fire was overrated.
As Katia took a quick glance in the mirror, a familiar strange sensation made the back of her neck prickle. It was something that happened with alarming frequency — she’d get the strangest sensation that someone w
as watching her. It was almost as though, if she stared hard enough, she would be able to see someone observing her from the other side of the mirror. Shaking off the creepy feeling, Katia pivoted and grabbed her violin off the adjoining table.
One more deep breath and she strode out onto the stage. She took her position near the piano as the curtains parted. The audience broke into applause that thundered in her ears, echoing the rhythm of the blood rushing through her veins. Her nerves disappeared as the applause died out, leaving her at the center of the lit stage staring out into pitch blackness.
With the stage lights on and the house lights off, she couldn’t see the hundreds of concert-goers that were in attendance. She felt cocooned in her own private world, a world in which she could pour out her heart and soul. The opening piano strains flowed out into the night. Katia closed her eyes and let go. The music began to pour through her as she let all the sadness she held in her heart rise to the surface.
Once she began to play, all sense of time and space vanished, leaving her in a world of pure music and feeling. She was unaware of transitioning from one piece to the next as they all felt like an extension of herself. Sergei’s accompaniment was the perfect backdrop for her playing. He allowed her music to transport the audience.
As Katia played, she felt an errant tear slip out of her eye and trail slowly down her cheek. It was a relief to be able to cry during her performances as she seemed unable to at any other time. Even during her parents’ funeral, the tears hadn’t come. She often wondered if something inside her was broken, something that could only be fixed temporarily through her music — like she was gluing pieces of her heart back together — only to have them smashed apart as soon as the real world intruded.
As she played the last lingering notes of the final piece of the night, she took another deep breath, bracing to face reality again. The audience remained silent for several drawn-out moments. This always happened; the music was played with so much emotion it was impossible not to be affected. Suddenly, thunderous applause filled the air, making Katia’s head pound. She took an elegant bow as per custom and motioned toward Sergei, who had risen from the piano bench. He took his bow and they stood for several moments as the audience continued to applaud. Finally the curtain closed. Katia let out the breath she’d been holding. Sergei looked down at her and smiled. “One of these days, you’ll pass out holding your breath and I’ll have to come to your rescue and catch you.”
As they walked back toward their dressing rooms, Katia looked up at him and smiled. “You’re always rescuing me anyhow, Sergei.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh and shook her head. “Sometimes, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m a hot mess and we both know it.” He smiled down at her and said, “Lucky for you, I’ve always had a soft spot for a good hot mess.” She smiled at him and opened her dressing room door. As she started to walk through, Sergei touched her upper arm lightly to stop her. “Meet me at the side door. I’ll walk you home.” Katia looked up at Sergei standing there, twisting the crested ring on his right index finger. She nodded and passed through her door, closing it softly behind her.
Finally able to get out of her formal performance dress, Katia took a relieved breath and rolled her neck. Floor-length satin evening dresses were not her outfits of choice on a daily basis. She pulled the pins out of her hair, tossing them carelessly on the dressing table. Reaching over, she grabbed her street clothes that were hanging over the back of a chair. Fitted black jeans, a black Beatles t-shirt, and a pair of motorcycle boots. Grabbing the length of her hair, she twisted it up into a messy bun. It felt like heaven to finally be herself again. There had been a time before her parents’ accident when she had tried to fit in with the moneyed, trust-fund crowd that frequented the area. Katia had quickly realized that she was pretending to be someone else. It had gotten her nowhere and she’d only felt uncomfortable. Quite frankly, she didn’t spend much time with the type of people that lived in her area and attended the theatre and concert hall. She felt so much more at home going to a bar and shooting pool with Sergei or watching a live indie band at a warehouse party.
Giving herself a quick glance in the mirror, she grabbed up her black messenger bag and violin case, and headed out the door. Katia walked briskly toward the side door of the theatre, the one used exclusively by crew and performers to exit unnoticed by the patrons. It opened directly into the employee parking lot and, as usual, most of the crew for the show were outside chatting and smoking before heading home for the night. She waved and smiled, accepting congratulations from most of them for a good show since this was the final night of performances for the season. Everyone would have a few weeks off before rehearsals would start for the orchestral performances that would kick off the summer program.
Sergei was leaning casually against the brick wall as Katia approached. He gave her a slow smile as she drew near. “Looking more like yourself. Not that your weren’t gorgeous before.” She laughed as they headed out toward the street for the short walk to her building. This was a walk they’d taken together after almost every performance for the past few years, but something felt different to Katia. There was a certain tension in the air around Sergei. After walking in silence for a few minutes, he stopped. Katia took a few more steps, lost in thought, before realizing he wasn’t beside her. She turned back toward him with a questioning look. Sergei was peering down at the pavement, he took a deep breath and looked up into Katia’s eyes. She sucked in a breath. There was such a look of longing in his face. “Katia, I decided a long time ago not to do this. I figured it was better to have you in my life in some way instead of risking losing you completely, but I can’t go on like this without ever having tried.” Her eyes widened, but she motioned for Sergei to continue. “I care about you, Katia, a lot. I want a relationship with you, a real relationship. Will you go on a date with me — an actual date, not a ‘just as friends’ date?” Sergei took a deep breath and held it.
Katia’s mind spun. She had known this was coming for a while, but now that the moment was here she had frozen. What should she do? She laughed at herself internally. A pro’s and con’s list would only tell her what she already knew — that Sergei was perfect for her in every way. She’d met a lot of men over the years through work, social interactions, and during school. She hadn’t ever found the same easy relationship that she had with Sergei. This could work, couldn’t it? They understood each other; they worked and rehearsed together. Hell, they even lived in the same apartment building. Okay, time to stop stalling and make a decision. It was now or never, and she’d had enough of feeling frozen and stuck. Time to pull her head out of her ass and do something to change her life. “Yes.”
Chapter Three
Luc headed down the staircase at the back of the bar that led to a cavernous stone basement. Nobody would guess from looking around the bar that such a massive space existed directly under his feet. At the end of each evening, creatures of the dark would make their way to The Advocate in order to head through the Portal and back to their homes in Outer-Sheol after a long day of work, play...or hunting.
He made his way down the well-worn stone steps and emerged into the cool air of the cavernous room. The arched gothic ceiling adorned with carved runes in various demonic languages came into view. The space was lit by ancient wooden sconces. The flames of the candles guttered in a draft, giving the whole space an eerie feel in the half-light. He moved swiftly to the large, raised dais before the back wall. Five steps led up to the Portal that would take him directly to the town square in Outer-Sheol. The Portal was a large, rectangular opening with black swirling shadows and intermittent pulsing red light. It was flanked by two carved-stone, demonic warriors in full armor holding swords, their tips resting on the stone floor. Above the portal, an inverted pentagram was carved into the stone, the five points held rubies that glowed brightly as Luc approached. The shadows began to swirl faster and faster the closer he got, sensing the approach of a traveller. He should have been used
to Portal travel by now, but could never get used to the feeling of being pulled apart and put back together at the molecular level. Transdimensional travel was a bitch. Damn, did he ever miss the feel of spreading his wings and flying. All he had left were the long diagonal scars on his shoulder blades where his wings had been severed. They still itched and he occasionally felt the urge to spread his phantom wings.
Luc stepped into the portal and felt the darkness surround him like a shroud. The feeling of slowly dissolving overtook him and his mind went blank. Moments later, his mind came back online and he felt himself coming together like an elastic band that had been pulled too tight and then snapped back into place. His eyes focused and he found himself outside the main portal of Outer-Sheol. This city operated much like those in the human realm. Vehicles drove down the lamp-lit streets, children played in parks, citizens milled about, shopped, headed to restaurants or back to their homes. Of course, the children weren’t all humanoid; the shops were decidedly not simply selling clothes, books, and jewellery; and the restaurants had much more diverse menus than the human world.
Outer-Sheol was divided into quadrants in order to maintain a relative peace. Not all species of demons played well with others. Each quadrant was sealed off with electrified razor-wire fencing and policed by Iustus demons, who had the ability to mentally connect to those around them, seeing their motivation and intent. The city was filled with high-rise living, all grey and black brick buildings. Gaslights lit the cobbled streets. With very little natural light, the city had a constant appearance of being in falling twilight. The farther one got from the center of the city and its approximate one hundred thousand inhabitants, the more decrepit and crumbling the buildings and streets became.
