Angel Born

by Brian Fuller

  Cain was suspicious now.

  Helo shrugged. “I don’t think they really believed it could do what I told them it could. Even Aclima’s story didn’t seem to convince them. They probably threw it into the incinerator with the rest of Deep 7’s garbage.”

  Cain slammed his fist on the table and bit back some reply. He grabbed his wine, schooled his features, and looked out toward the lake as if it were a mentor trying to calm him down. But Aclima was right. Cain had cracks to exploit. His six thousand years hadn’t robbed him of his weaknesses, just like they hadn’t robbed Aclima of hers.

  A door opened inside the bedroom, and Cain’s sinister smile returned. He stood.

  “It’s polite to stand when the ladies come to dinner, Helo.”

  Helo pushed his chair back and peered through the glass windows, anxious for a glimpse of Aclima and Terissa. When he did see them, his mouth dropped and his heart fell even further.

  “You know,” Cain said. “Aclima always looked good in black, but I’ve always liked her best in red. Would you say the same about Terissa?”

  Helo didn’t think he’d be saying anything. Not for a good while. It wasn’t Cain’s triumphant sneer. It wasn’t the women’s haunted, angry faces. It was the red auras around both that shook him to the core.

  Aclima and Terissa were Dreads.

  Chapter 36

  Seeing Red

  Helo wasn’t sure when he sat down. He wasn’t sure when Aclima and Terissa had taken their places at the table. He didn’t want to look at them yet. His mind stumbled for traction, trying to get some kind of footing from which to do something. But he couldn’t get his bearings enough to point his will in any coherent direction. Terissa had been in Cain’s power for days, but Aclima had been captive for less than twenty-four hours! And now they were Dreads?

  Some irrational part of his brain kept hoping they were look-alikes, that this was some kind of trick. But it wasn’t. Neither woman seemed able to do anything besides stare at the table, mouths set. Both wore black dresses, and Cain had apparently forced Aclima to resume a bodily shape more to his liking. Cain had seen to it that both women looked their best before they had turned. The mysterious rune tattoos all Dread Loremasters possessed discolored Aclima’s arms, just as they had when she was a Dread before.

  Helo closed his eyes. So this was Cain’s revenge, one last stunt to hurt and shock him. Helo remembered the haunting vision of King tormenting Cassandra in the hold of the ship, remembered how King had tortured him, too, with all the pain from his past. Aclima’s past was littered with thousands of years of experiences Cain could use against her. What had turned her to a Dread again at the last?

  As he accepted this new reality, a more pressing question jumped to the front of the line. Whose side were Aclima and Terissa on now? Terissa had the weaker personality and could be more easily swayed. Aclima had hated Cain even before she had become an Ash Angel. Even as Dreads, he thought the women would help him, though, knowing Cain, he had blackmailed them with something to keep them in line.

  Helo opened his eyes. Cain was staring back at him with satisfaction. “You see, Helo, every few centuries or so the Ash Angels manage to turn a Dread into an Ash Angel, but it’s much easier to push someone down a flight of stairs than to drag them up one. I’ve already called Avadan and given him the good news that his mother has returned.”

  Helo shook his head. What could he do? “Kill me already and let them go. You’ve gotten what you wanted.”

  “Not quite yet,” Cain returned. “But let’s eat, shall we? The meal certainly cost enough.” He nodded to the Sheid, and it walked to the sliding glass door and knocked on it firmly before refilling Cain’s glass with wine.

  “Now,” Cain said. “I have one last surprise for you. See if you recognize our server this evening.”

  A chill struck Helo’s heart. What else could Cain possibly do? He had killed his parents. He had turned his brother into a Possessed. He had captured Aclima and Terissa and tortured them until they’d become Dreads. Tela was the only one left. Would he kill her? Use her right then and there to create a Sheid as the Ash Angels had thought all along?

  But when the server came—a Possessed—Helo didn’t recognize him at all. He was young, dark haired, and skinny, his shoulders stooped. His face bespoke the addiction that had let the ghostly spirit hanging out of his back gain entrance to his body. But the man was a stranger.

  The Possessed carried a large serving tray laden with four plates: filet mignon, peas, and a piece of bread barely bigger than a playing card. These he distributed and then stood dutifully by the table, leaning the tray against the deck rail.

  Helo turned back to Cain, finding the old Dread’s smugness more annoying by the second. Did he really expect them to eat under these circumstances?

  “So, you don’t recognize him?” Cain asked, clearly enjoying himself.

  “Never seen him before,” Helo said.

  “Well, maybe not, but in a way, that man knows you better than anyone. You see, the spirit within him is your father—not in the biological sense, mind you. The evil spirit within the man here is the same one who possessed your drunken father for many years. The spirit’s name is Gloudiel, by the way. He practically raised you.

  “Now, don’t worry, Helo. I’ll have Gloudiel leave this man’s body as soon as I’m done turning you into a Dread. I’ll let him show you the way to hell. You can wait for the three of us down there, and then we’ll all burn together. Well, bon apetit!”

  Turn him into a Dread. Fat chance. The Ghostpacker’s burning red eyes regarded him knowingly, and perhaps there was a familiar feeling there. But while the sight of the Possessed still made his skin crawl, the revelation of his father’s affliction had the opposite effect from what Cain had probably intended. His father was a cold, abusive bastard. Always had been. That his addiction to alcohol opened him to possession suddenly put all the neglect and maltreatment into a frame that made sense. His father hadn’t been fully in control of himself. While not all the yelling and hitting and coldness could be laid at the evil spirit’s feet, knowing that much of their family dysfunction could be ascribed to this Gloudiel filled him with an unexpected peace. Cain probably thought the revelation would shame him.

  Helo exhaled. “Thank you, Cain.”

  Cain stopped mid-chew and looked up, face puzzled. “Something amuse you about this situation?”

  “All these years I thought my father hated me. Thanks to you, I now know it was that . . . thing . . . over there. Now I can cancel all those counseling sessions.”

  Cain’s eye twitched. Another point won. Aclima threw him a brief glance. A warning? Helo ignored Cain and sliced away at the filet mignon. “You know, Cain, it’s kind of funny. I had a Possessed for a father and I turned out okay. You had great parents and turned out to be so insecure you killed your own brother to steal his stuff. And marrying your twin sister? Kind of gross. I always thought my dad was disappointed in me. I can only imagine what Adam thought of you.”

  Cain put his silverware down and looked at the Sheid. “Time to get started.”

  Before Helo could think, a dark tentacle wrapped around his neck from somewhere behind him, constricting his throat. This didn’t hurt, but Helo grimaced and grunted like it did to keep Cain from figuring out the desecration field was useless. The Sheid dragged him backward, spindly iron chair legs scratching a line in the decorative tile of the deck.

  That’s when the drone hovering in the night sky caught his eye. With his head forced backward, he could see it high and behind Cain, a bare shadow against the nearly extinguished light of day. While hard to be sure, it seemed to be the same quad-rotor design Faramir used on their earlier ops. A sliver of hope shot into his heart as the drone ducked back behind the house. The Ash Angels had found them.

  “So here’s the deal, Helo. I’m going to turn you into a Dread. Think of it as a mercy. One day you’ll get to see everyone sitting around this table in hell, and we’ll all
sit around a campfire of our own burning flesh and sing ‘Kumbaya.’ Tonight, thanks to you, Devon Qyn will ‘die.’ I’ll start a new life from scratch like I always do. I really liked being Devon Qyn, so I hold his early demise against you, too. Gloudiel,” Cain said, “get to work.”

  The Possessed nodded. Cain was going to use the evil spirit to torch him. It wouldn’t do any good, but as the glowing red points in the Ghostpacker’s empty eyes drew closer, the ghostly spirit’s form misting around its human victim, Helo couldn’t help but shudder. Helo glanced at the two women, and then the two at each other. Cain didn’t miss it.

  “Ladies,” he said, “remember our bargain. No heroics.”

  Then the red flash exploded from the Ghostpacker’s eyes . . . and did nothing. The Possessed grabbed Helo’s face and forced its burning red eyes closer. Helo stared back unblinkingly. Again the red aura flared from the eyes. Again no effect.

  The Possessed backed away. “It doesn’t work.”

  Cain looked at the Possessed, then at Helo. “Doesn’t work?”

  “No.”

  Helo laughed. “Gloudiel is weak sauce, man. You want to give it a go, Cain?” If he could bait Cain closer, he might get in a good kick and break one of the bastard’s legs.

  But Cain came no closer. “Have you never felt the full force of a Dread Loremaster’s torch?”

  Helo thought he might have. Outside the law offices of Goutre and Hudgins, one of the Loremasters had dealt him and Cassandra a powerful dose. It sucked.

  Cain wrinkled his nose and let loose. It was strong. Even as an angel born, Helo could hear the sour siren song of the torch whispering to him to open up and let the poison in. But in the end it was useless. Whatever protection Cassandra’s angelic gift had given him held fast. As the waves of red bent around him, he knew it was time to act. There would be no better opportunity. If the Ash Angels were near, he hoped they could protect Tela and everyone else. The longer he sat here, the more Cain would realize how immune he was.

  The Sheid stood right behind the chair, tentacle still around his neck. As Cain dumped everything he had into the torch, Helo flared his Strength and whipped an elbow high and behind him. He couldn’t see where the elbow landed, but the Sheid exploded, the desecration dying with it. In a heartbeat, Helo surged out of the chair and decked the Possessed with a shot across its jaw, the man collapsing into the table, rattling the plates.

  He had Cain’s attention now, the Loremaster reestablishing the desecration field.

  “Get Tela,” Helo said to Aclima and Scarlet. “The Ash Angels are here.”

  Cain backed slowly toward the rail. “What are you?”

  Helo Hallowed the ground, destroying Cain’s desecration, and that was enough for Cain. Cain pulled out his phone, grabbed the deck rail, and jumped over the side. Aclima, face a rage, was the next over. Scarlet remained seated at the table, face uncertain.

  “Terissa!” Helo said. He had to follow Cain, but someone had to go for Tela. She didn’t look up. “Terissa!”

  It was no use. He looked over the deck railing for Cain and Aclima. They were nowhere in sight. He looked at Scarlet, who almost seemed comatose, so lost within herself that nothing else existed. Then screams blasted into the night from inside the house. He couldn’t wait any longer.

  After a last look at Scarlet, he burst through the sliding glass door and plunged into the master suite, darting through it and out into the hall. Before he reached the stairs, Cain’s voice boomed through the house.

  “Helo!” he yelled. “Helo! Get down here or she dies!”

  Helo swore. Too late. Cain was going to kill Tela, he just knew it. He would do it to punish him.

  Helo took the stairs two at a time. The hick Dread and the Asian Dread from the garage waited at the bottom, both carrying Dread-issue pistols. The Asian Dread’s eyes flitted everywhere, and he took a nervous look at his watch. The hick kept his gun trained on Helo and grinned wide enough to reveal all the gaps in his smile.

  “Party’s just startin’, He-lo,” he drawled.

  Helo jogged between the two Dreads—resisting the urge to flatten the hick’s face—and passed into the entryway they guarded. The party was here, or what was once a party now turned to a hostage situation. The lavishly dressed and trembling guests stood clinging to each other against the walls of an oversized living room with tall windows framing the lake. A long table that had once held hors d’oeuvres had been overturned to clear the center of the room, vegetables, crackers, and meats littering the plush carpet. Tela’s guitar, neck broken, lay on the floor nearby.

  Aclima stood still, fists clenched, halfway into the room. Beyond her, Cain stood next to a Sheid. Cain’s hand gripped the thick of Tela’s hair, the singer on her knees, her hair spilling toward the ground. Cain’s gun was pressed to the side of her head. The Sheid leveled its pistol at Aclima.

  Helo raised his hands. “What’s the play here . . . Devon?” he said, remembering to use a name the guests would recognize. “A lot of folks in here have nothing to do with this. How about you let them go?” He walked slowly forward until he reached Aclima’s side.

  Tela tried to lift her head. “Helo!” she cried. “Leave, Helo. Run!”

  Cain shoved her head almost to the floor, his cruel smile reappearing as he cocked his head. “She knows your name, even cares for you! How fortunate.”

  “Let her go,” Helo said. “Let them all go. This is you and me.”

  “Now you listen, Helo,” Cain spat. “I always get what I want, and I won’t stop until I get it.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Helo asked. If he could keep him talking, maybe it would give the Ash Angels time to do something to give them the upper hand.

  “Yank out Aclima’s heart,” he said.

  Some of the guests whimpered at this gruesome request.

  “Not with these people here,” Helo returned.

  The Sheid pointed its gun at a silver-haired man by the window and fired. The man fell, red stain inking out onto his shirt as he collapsed. Screaming and crying broke out from the guests. Tears soaked Tela’s face. Helo swallowed. He turned to Aclima, and she nodded at him, face resolute. What could he do? He knew what Cain would ask. A roaring fire burned in a fireplace to his left. He would end Aclima now and remove a powerful enemy from the equation.

  Aclima lay down on the ground and ripped her dress open down the middle.

  Helo knelt by her and put his face close to hers. “I won’t let this happen,” he whispered.

  “No talking!” Cain roared. “Get the heart or I’ll introduce Tela’s brains to the carpet.”

  “Remember, there are normals here,” Helo whispered to Aclima. Then he used his Strength to plunge his hand beneath her rib cage. She screamed and then feigned unconsciousness. Cries of disgust and outrage filled the room as Helo removed the heart. Aclima had even remembered to bleed, staining his hand red.

  Cain grinned. “Good boy!”

  “How could you!” Tela screamed. “How could you, Helo!”

  That stung. Helo clenched his teeth and stepped forward. The Sheid’s gun snapped up.

  “Put the heart into the fire, Helo,” Cain said. “Do it.”

  Helo glanced back at Aclima, a motionless mess on the floor. He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t be the one to consign her to hell.

  A portly man stepped out of the crowd, a Latino in his late forties. “Now that’s enough!” the man barked. It took Helo a moment, but the voice gave it away. Corinth. The Ash Angels were here. Helo’s friend from the Gabriels division tore at Cain like an angry boar, but the Sheid fired, nailing Corinth in the chest. The Gabriel staggered forward a few steps and then “died” within a couple feet of Cain, blood pouring from his wound.

  Helo took stock. Two Dreads behind. Cain and a Sheid in front. A room full of innocents. What was Corinth’s plan? If they could distract Cain, the Gabriel might be able to get Tela away from him and the Sheid. Helo tried to remember Corinth’s Bestowals. He
had Toughness. Maybe he was hoping to shield her from the gun. He couldn’t forget Aclima, either. It might freak people out to see her up and moving, but they needed her.

  “The fire,” Cain said, pushing the gun hard against Tela’s head. “Now.”

  What choice did he have? Helo’s heart fell a thousand feet as he walked numbly toward the fire. Cain had forced him into an impossible choice, Tela’s life for Aclima’s. But was it really a choice? Cain would kill Tela anyway, Helo was sure if it. He just wanted to screw with him in the meantime and make sure Aclima could never be whole again. Normals were to be protected at all costs, but tossing Aclima’s heart into a fire wouldn’t be protecting anyone. Still, the AAO would order him to do it.

  The fire waited ahead of him, hungrily licking the wood. All he had to do was throw the heart on the fire and Aclima would be gone, gone to hell, just where Cain wanted her so he could torment her forever. Anger welled up inside him, and he turned back to where Cain stood, eyes cruel, gun trigger a hair’s breadth away from sending Tela to a messy grave.

  “Now, Helo,” Cain said.

  Helo swallowed his fear, burying it deep. “No.”

  Cain shook his head. “Then this is on you.”

  Chapter 37

  Tela Mirren

  Two gunshots.

  Helo flinched, expecting blood—expecting Tela dead. But the shots came from behind him. Fresh screams erupted from the terrified partygoers. During the sliver of time afforded him by the confusion, Corinth surged like an Olympic sprinter bolting from the starting line, snapping up from his fake-dead pose and knocking Cain’s gun away from Tela’s head with one arm. In a heartbeat, the Gabriel operative picked up the dazed singer and darted toward the kitchen, Cain’s gun skittering across the floor. Corinth’s aura flared as he fled, trying to shield Tela with his body. The Sheid turned his Dread pistol on the fleeing pair and fired.

  Helo bolted toward Cain and the Sheid as a desecration field spread outward from Cain and the Sheid torched. Both pointless to him. He had to get in the way of the Sheid’s shot, give them a chance to get away. More gunshots erupted behind him. The guests cowered against the walls, but Helo kept his focus on the Sheid, who continued to unload his clip into Corinth’s back, knocking him and Tela to the floor, Corinth twitching in pain.