“It has always been a city tolerant of vices and sin. I’m certain they’ve been here before. I just couldn’t find them at the time. They hate the very things they crave.” That’s why we have an office in every city known for debauchery- Rio de Janeiro, Las Vegas, Amsterdam, and here, New Orleans. “Finally, they made a mistake. Only one city has those metal disks in their sidewalks.”
I stare at the termite bait disk just barely peeking out from under the victims arm. Right in our fucking city! I see the red flames reflected in the screen as my anger flares. His hand falls on my shoulder, and I push back from my desk. “I chose you, Torryn. Do you know why?”
I have no idea. One day, I was training and the next, I was called to see Luc. He refuses to use his full name now that it has been vilified by those he fights to save. Only those wishing to die would call him it or Morning Star. I shake my head.
“The revelation,” he says as he steps away. Six hundred years and not a single word about any fucking revelation.
“What about it?” A chill creeps up my spine when he turns back to me, leaning against his own desk. I see the angel he was shining out and I realize the stories have some of it wrong. He was no mid-tier angel. I am working for a Cherubim, or at least he used to be. Not one of those fucking chubby brats with a bow and arrow, no, the creatures sent to guard Eden as the divine protectors. I watch as his face shifts. Like all Cherubim, he has four, and they can be both comforting and terrifying. He lets me see the other three sides he keeps hidden before it settles on the one I’ve always known. FUCK.
“They call you demons. If they only knew.” He shakes his head. My fingers grip the arms of my chair, dread beating at me. Never have I questioned the stories of how we were created. Yes, I knew we aren’t evil or bent on human destruction, but how we came to be was never a question. Until this very moment. He moves around the desk.
“The time has come.” Luc appears by his side, and I fight not to flinch. The Devil is both beautiful and terrible to behold. I lock my muscles, waiting. “The time for the truth.” His hand lifts, index finger raised, his skin cool as it touches my forehead. It lays there for a moment and then taps.
That gentle tap reverberates through my skull, a wave of power so great it knocks me over backwards. His smirking face is the last thing I see before excruciating pain rips through my brain. Flashes of images blind me. I claw at my eyes, but strong hands pull at my wrists, pinning them to the floor.
I have no idea how long it goes on but when it ends, I’m left gasping and pissed off. Jerking my arms free, I jump to my feet, eyes blazing red in my anger. For six hundred years, I had believed the lies but questioned everything because I didn’t feel evil.
“Why?” I grit out.
“Why you were chosen? Why the lies? Which do you wish to know?” Evander is the one to answer.
“All of it. You fucking lied to me. I’m no demon.”
“False. You are very much a demon. I made you, pulled you from the darkness.” Luc’s tone dares me to deny his truth.
“What darkness? I was an angel. I fought in the heavens,” I remember, tears threatening my eyes at the brilliant beauty.
“Yes, you fought. Fought and died that day, braver than most, and yet He turned His back on you, leaving you in the darkness.” Luc’s voice hardens as he speaks of his Father. “He turned His back on us all. He left that day, went to another world to begin again.”
It is a day of surprises and truths, apparently. Light shines brightly from him, and I fight not to shield my eyes. It dims slowly, and when I can finally see again, Evander’s hand is gripping Luc’s forearm. In that instant, I understand why they had called him Morning Star.
“What happened that day? I remember fighting but not the reason why, or even who, for that matter.”
Evander glances at Lucifer, who shakes his head, his anger still too close to the surface, so it is Boss who tells the tale.
* * *
THAT DAY IN HEAVEN
The Archangels had been sent to Earth to watch over the humans, to help them. We don’t know if God knew or if He didn’t what would happen. While there living amongst the humans, they found themselves drawn to these creatures. Angels had never experienced the kind of needs and desires that people did continuously. They were born wanting and needing. The angels found themselves curious about earthly love. This love was so different than the love experienced in heaven.
They partook in the pleasure of the flesh and in doing so, found a love like none they had known before. Children were born of these unions, and at the moment of their birth, when their first cries rang out, they were heard in the heavens. Every birth is a joyous occasion for angels, but these were more so because they were so angelic. All of Heaven celebrated, except for seven.
Seven who had been chosen, who had waited for the archangels to return. Seven female counterparts, seven who had been chosen as companions, only felt betrayal. They experienced a forsaking and a rage like there had never been in heaven.
Led by one, they waited, biding their time, until the Archangels returned to them. And there in the blinding glory of Heaven’s light, they murdered Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Selaphiel, Raguel and Barachiel. Blood flowed over the hallowed ground, and a war was begun.
While they had waited, they had sewn dissent among the other angels. And those of us who were loyal to Heaven fought those intent on destruction. Many died and many chose to fall. The Fallen are the ones we were created to fight. Their intentions are to slaughter as many of those they deem responsible as they can in horrible ways. They are still led by Serafina, who had been chosen for Michael. She was his equal in every way, including his wrath. Her anger is directed towards human women, for she blames them for Michael’s betrayal.
* * *
“Of course, the problem with that is the Archangels made their own decisions. And none of those women are still alive to be killed. Michael and the others had hidden the women and the children away before they returned. I don’t know if they were warned by someone or if they just sensed something. They cloaked the children’s angelic essence and natures, hiding them.” I stared at him, unable to process all the information. I have no memories of any of this, other than the blood and killing in the heavens.
He remains silent as I struggle to deal with the revelation. Luc stands with his back to me in front of the window, bathed in the brilliant afternoon light, and suddenly a vision or memory of him flashes in my mind. He is glorious, with his natural bright light shining out of him as he swings his sword, his golden armor seemingly on fire as it reflects his light. I blink slowly, and when I open my eyes, he has turned and is facing me. Now the light shines on his head like the halos humans believe angels have.
I want to laugh because he is so far from what they believe them to be. Never would they look upon him and think evil. “So, why were you cast out?” I can’t believe I just fucking asked him that. The choking cough to my left tells me Evander can’t believe it either.
“After all that you were told, why would you believe now that I was merely cast out?” I fight to keep my mouth from flopping open. “I chose to fall. He then cast me down, unhappy with my decision and why I made it.” He looks at Evander before sighing. “The days after the battle, Heaven was in chaos. It wasn’t that though, no, it was the screams of those on Earth echoing through Heaven that caused my decision. Those screams and his unwillingness to intervene forced me to fall. And so, I was cast to Hell, my punishment for daring to question his inaction.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know where to begin. So I ask the only thing I can think of. “And you made us why?”
I think I know the answer, but I want to hear him say it.
“Like I said, before He withdrew and left this mess, He created all of this and yet He leaves, even with them slaughtering His creations. I was first. I don’t know if He realized the powers, He gave me. I’m not strong enough to fight them all but I made an army with those powers.
Besides, I couldn’t leave you in the darkness.”
At the mention of the nothingness, the memory of it floods back. My heart pounds with a weight that presses down on me. That nothingness, that blackness, that void… It’s worse than anything in hell.
If only humans knew it was Lucifer and a band of his demons that are fighting to save them.
3
Lillian
Crying out as my skin is torn by the metal, I lock my muscles in place. If I jerk, the claws will tear the muscle below the skin, making the pain and the wound so much worse.
“What do you think you’re doing, Lillian?” Celine’s words are low and deadly.
“I just wanted to see the floats and listen to the music. I stayed out of sight.” I hate the pleading tone of my voice.
She flexes her fingers, metal scraping over bone, before releasing me.
“Grace needs caring for.” Spinning, she glides away.
Reaching back, I wipe at the blood that is running down my spine, the movement causes the wound to open more. Another mark of their possession and their brand of ownership. Another badge of honor for me. I see every mark as proof of my resistance and my unwillingness to give up. I’ve earned every one of them.
I used to look in the mirror and hate seeing the one that runs from my eyebrow to my jaw, but now it simply strengthens my resolve each morning. My finger traces it as I walk to the house to help Grace. If not for her, I would have lost my eye.
They return in the dead of night, screaming for me to come and clean their things, which were coated in blood. Slipping the phone from my pocket, I open the news application, searching for a report on what they have done this time. It’s the same everywhere they settle. They stalk the night, killing women mostly and preying on people they say are sinners. The matter of sin doesn’t matter; large or small, the punishment is death. The problem is they see everything women do as sinful.
At times, their targets are men, those they feel were lured too easily, otherwise righteous men who choose to go down the wrong path following a woman. These poor people are treated the worst, killed the slowest, the pain unimaginable. I think this is how I lost my family. They’ve often told me how they saved me. Of course, it is while I’m kept prisoner even when I wish to leave.
Another reason I don’t understand Grace being with the others; if they knew she had helped me in anyway other than keeping me alive, they would punish her. My feet freeze on the stairs as the words play over in my head. It’s been a year since I woke up to the horrible pain in my face, a year of her returning with injuries.
“Oh, Grace,” I whisper the words before continuing at a run up the stairs. Rushing in the door, I close it quickly behind me, sliding the lock into place. It won’t stop them but it will serve as a warning to their arrival, if they happen to come. She is still on the bed but she is at least propped up on pillows. Her leg is where I left it, elevated on the folded blankets. The gauze is stained red but at least it is dry.
“This is because of me, isn’t it?” I ask. Her head turns toward the window. “Grace, why?” Why about so many things. I ease down beside her on the bed. “Please, Grace.” Still not looking at me, she nods. “Because you helped me?” Another minuscule nod. “Has it been since that day, every injury they have inflicted on you because you saved my eye? I don’t understand.” I don’t get why they would even care. Hell, I don’t know why they even want me alive. I don’t ask her that. I have before, but she won’t answer that.
“It doesn’t matter, Lilly.” She’s the only one who calls me that. I wouldn’t want the others to anyway. “I’ll heal.” She doesn’t need to finish that statement; we both know it will happen again.
“Why do you stay?” She looks at me finally, and her face is so sad it makes me want to weep.
“You should go. I’ll be fine.” Shaking my head, I reach for the supplies I’d left earlier.
“Let me clean it and change the dressing, at least.” I’m already unwinding the gauze, careful to not reopen the wound. She only tenses when I pull the final bit away, the part that is stuck. Gently as I can, I clean away the blood and then apply ointment, but she shakes her head at that. “I know you don’t need it but…” I rewrap it all loosely and then stand, cleaning up the trash before I cross to the door. Stopping in the threshold, I look back at her. “Thank you.” She smiles slightly in response, and I continue out into the hallway. I stop at the bathroom and throw the trash away, then store the supplies back in the closet. It’s well into the night, and the house is quiet. I’m not sure if they are gone or not but I make my way up another flight of stairs to my room. My door is ajar and I freeze, listening for movement. It’s minutes later before I force my body into motion, still I creep inside, pushing the door open as slowly as I can. My eyes dart around, searching every dark corner before I slide my hand up the wall and flick the light on.
There, sitting pretty as you please in the middle of my bed is an enormous black cat with bright eyes, one gold and one green. I close the door just as slowly behind me, again sliding the lock as an alert.
“How’d you get in here?” I whisper. It just watches me, the tip of its tail flicking. Its hair is long and the ends are lighter, a smoky gray. Fangs protrude from its lips, stark white against the black and curve into razor sharp points. “You have to leave. They won’t like you being here.” I glance back at the door. It meows, and it is a tiny, high noise that doesn’t fit with the huge beast. I grin at it, taking a tentative step toward the bed, afraid I will scare it. Still it watches me.
They never come up here. “Maybe just for tonight, but you have to be quiet.” Continuing slowly forward until I reach the table beside the bed, I reach out. Its head turns, watching my hand. I pick up the TV remote and turn it on. “Just so they might think any noise is from the tv.”
I sit on the very edge of the bed. I don’t move a muscle when it stands and walks over and I remain still when its giant head bumps into me. It does it again before sitting and looking up at my face.
“Hi,” I whisper before reaching out and gently touching its head.
A deafening rumble starts, and I realize it’s purring.
I relax, and it doesn’t take long before he’s curled beside me, my fingers combing through the dark fur. I discovered it was a boy as he wound around my body.
“I know you can’t stay, but maybe you could visit.” A certain pirate captain is on the tv, and I decide right then. “I’m going to call you Captain Jack.”
I know it’s crazy to name him but I can’t help myself. It’s selfish. It does nothing but put him in danger. They will kill him or worse just because he mattered to me. Looking down at the huge head laying on my thigh, I can’t help myself.
I’ve never had a friend.
4
Torryn
I’ve walked these streets a hundred years and until this moment, I’ve managed to avoid every Mardi Gras parade. My molars will be dust before I can get out of here.
Shoving the drunken idiot that just slammed into me, I don’t feel even a tiny bit bad as he stumbles into his equally drunk friends and they land in a pile on the street. I know what’s on that street; they better throw those clothes away and bathe in bleach.
I’ve been wandering up and down the streets all day. I left the office right after Luc said he couldn’t leave us in the darkness. I couldn’t listen to another word. I don’t want to know anything else. For my entire existence, I’ve known exactly who I am, but that’s not true any longer, is it? I lived a thousand years before I woke up in Hell. Just thinking about it now conjures up images of Heaven. It pisses me off.
I remember the moment I was killed. I see the face smiling as the sword made it past my own. I had been on my way to ask Selaphiel about his time on Earth when I found her standing over his body, his blood cooling on the marble floor. Trinity whirled on me, fierce and angry. I hate to admit I was unprepared for her rage and ability. It almost wasn’t a fight at all. She almost killed me before
I drew my sword. I was young and then untried, barely trained for fighting. A member of the lowest triad, a guardian angel with no charge.
Then the darkness.
Shaking my head, I focus on the task at hand: finding the Fallen. I wonder if Trinity is still alive. We’ve never had a report of any of them being killed, and I hope they have not. I want to gut her myself. I don’t know why I’m even bothering. Over a thousand years and we’ve never been able to find them. They are cloaked with a magic we don’t have, how I don’t know. I stop mid-step as a memory slides into my consciousness. I see the seven as they were sent down by God for his chosen.
I had been in awe. Angels of the first triad rarely strayed far from God. Here were seven, sent to seven in the third triad. Seraphims who, until now, had attended God himself. Now sent from his side to be companions for the Archangels. At the time, I only thought of how the Archangels had felt. The honor being given to them. Now, I remember the females faces, tight smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. Anger radiated from them, but of course, we didn’t recognize it. It was not an emotion we saw in Heaven.
A necklace of beads slaps me in the head, reminding me to pay attention. Looking up, I scowl at those on the balconies. This probably a waste of time anyway. Why would they come and face this insanity? No sooner than the thought races through my mind, I hear a muffled scream. The humans are oblivious, the music and reverie drowning out the sound of pain.
Turning in a slow circle, I try to determine where it came from. Listening closely for another sound, I force the crowds to move around me. There. My head whips right and I shove people as I fight my way to a darkened courtyard.
Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 73
