Dark Bound

by Kim Richardson

  29

  There she was, glowing, as angels always did. Her coffee-colored skin was a stark contrast to her modern white pant suit, and I wondered if she had dressed all in white just for an added “angel” effect. Probably. Her black hair was clipped short against her head and she looked to be in her late thirties.

  I might suck at demon summoning, but I was sure I didn’t summon an angel. Not this time.

  Her eyes moved around with the cool precision of making herself aware of everything surrounding her at all times, a predator.

  Her eyes met mine, her dark eyes smoldering with barely contained contempt. And she smiled, not a kind nice-to-meet-you smile, but the smile a predator gives before it kills its prey. Her right arm moved, and a long silver blade slipped to her right hand.

  “Rowyn, she’s got a blade in her hand,” whispered Tyrius, his blue eyes flashing. “Why does she have a blade in her hand?”

  The angel’s eyes moved to Tyrius and her smile widened into something downright scary, revealing her brilliant white teeth.

  I scrambled to my feet, the hairs on the back on my neck standing on end. What the hell was an angel doing in my apartment? When angels showed up, it was because they wanted something. And yet I couldn’t shake the deep feeling of dread that twisted in my gut. There was nothing holy about the looks she was giving me, or that long dagger in her hand.

  “What do you want?” I asked, my voice hard. There was no way I’d let the angel sense the fear in me.

  Still smiling, the angel crossed my apartment and moved towards me, speaking in a loud voice as she did. “Rowyn Sinclair. The Hunter.” Her eyes moved to the blood circle on the floor. “Summoning demons, I see. How very irresponsible of you. Summoning demons is considered blasphemy. Demon magic violates the angel laws.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your laws.” I raised my brows and smiled. “I’m no angel.”

  The angel cocked her head as she took me all in, her eyes rolling over the death blade at my hip. “No. You’re no angel. But you were once angel-born. But it doesn’t matter now.”

  I frowned. “Your point being?” What the hell is going on?

  “Either tell us why your angel ass is here,” growled Tyrius, his tail slashed behind him. “Or get the hell out. This is a private home. You can’t just beam yourself up uninvited. There are rules.”

  “I don’t need an invitation,” answered the angel.

  I went cold. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, my mouth dry.

  The angel laughed hard and deep. “You’re charged with the murder of the archangel Vedriel.” She lifted her dagger and rolled a finger over the sharp edge. “A charge punishable by death.”

  My mouth dropped open as Tyrius cursed. “What?” Shit. Shit. Shit. “Wait a minute. This is a mistake. I didn’t murder anyone.”

  Yes, I had killed the archangel with the help of my friends, but it was either him or us. And we had chosen him. A nauseating mix of dread and nervousness shook my knees, and I held my breath to try and calm myself.

  “No further violations of the angel laws will be tolerated.” The angel lowered her blade. Her dark eyes danced with excitement, which gave me the creeps. She wanted to kill me. “The sentence for committing murder, for the death of an archangel no less, is death by the blade, to be carried out at once.”

  Tyrius lowered his ears. “The bastard had it coming. Do you even know what he did? What he did to Rowyn and the others? No, you don’t. That is punishable by death. Rowyn only tried to save herself from Dr. Frankenstein.”

  The angel gave him a chilling look.

  I nudged the cat with my foot. “Tyrius. Don’t. It’s not helping.” I stuck out my chin at the angel belligerently and moved my hand to my waist. “This is a mistake,” I protested. “The archangel was trying to kill me. He killed others like me. I wished it didn’t happen,” yeah right, “but he gave me no choice. It was either him or me. It was self-defense. He was going to kill me. Don’t I get a trial or something?”

  The angel laughed. “There is sufficient evidence to back up the claim of murder. You miserable, meat-suit, wannabe angel. You murdered an archangel. There’s no way you’re getting a trial. It’s simple. You’re going to die. That’s all there is to it.”

  I licked my lips. “What evidence?” I said, my voice low so it wouldn’t shake.

  The angel’s smile never flickered. “There were witnesses. Enough to put a bounty on your head.”

  A bounty on my head?

  I stiffened as a volley of curses flew out of my mouth. “Damn you and your Legion.” Now I was pissed, really, really pissed. “Let me guess… you’re getting something in exchange for my life. Aren’t you? Not money. Must be something else. What do you angels want?”

  “A promotion,” she answered, her eyes gleaming. “Elevation. Status. Power. I can have it all, once I bring in your soul.”

  “Damn angels,” muttered Tyrius. “Killing mortals to move up the freaking angel ladder. Brilliant.”

  Anger flashed through me, fed by the memory of Vedriel trying to kill me, of my parents’ deaths, of the deaths of the Unmarked.

  The angel continued to stare at me. The pleasure and excitement in her eyes was disturbing.

  I met her stare and yanked out my death blade. “Get out. Or so help me God, and all the gods, I will end you.”

  The angel beamed. “You must die, Rowyn Sinclair. You must pay for killing an archangel.”

  She shot forward in a blur of white and black. Her blade out and swinging, a battle cry rang from her lips as she lunged at me swiftly and deadly.

  But I was ready for her.

  I pushed Tyrius out of the way with my foot and darted back, dodging each swipe of that sharp and lethal blade. Damn angels. Can’t they just give me a break for once?

  I jumped back as she circled around me. “You can leave now, and I’ll forget all about this. Deal?”

  The angel pitched forward and jabbed with her long dagger. I sidestepped her, only to feel the side of her dagger along my neck. I ducked and spun, but the blade grazed my skin. Blood warmed my neck and shoulders.

  Bitch. She’s going to pay for that.

  The angel grinned at the sight of blood on my neck. She was so damn fast. And one hell of a fighter. But so was I. And this was a fight—fight or be killed.

  And I wasn’t dying today.

  “Guess you really want that promotion, huh?” I teased, grinning at the loss of a smile on her lips. “Tell me, what happens if I don’t die? What if I win? What happens to your promotion then?”

  “You won’t.” The angel snarled as she feinted left and slashed right. She came at me, whirling with cold grace, an onslaught of her flashing blade. I ducked and rolled aside, crashing into the kitchen counter. Plates and dishes smashed. The tiled counter shuddered as the angel’s blade gouged deep into the tile.

  The angel pulled out her weapon, cursing.

  “You missed.” I smiled at her frustration. I too could play this game.

  The angel hissed and lashed out at me, but I ducked and spun, driving my dagger into her side.

  Shit. I’d just stabbed an angel with my death blade. But she made me do it.

  The angel screamed as I yanked out my weapon and leaped back, the tip covered in a white liquid, the angel’s essence.

  She turned around, her face darkened and livid. “It’s going to take a lot more than your death blade to kill me. A trip back to Horizon and I’ll be as good as new.”

  “You can still leave,” I said, my gaze going over her shoulder to Tyrius who was crouching on the back of my sofa, ready to pounce if I needed help. “No one has to die.”

  “I’ll leave when you’re dead.”

  The angel’s blade glinted in the candlelight as she lifted it over her head. With a wild rush of strength, she flung herself at me. I dove, and the blade buried into the cabinet door. The angel drew it back again as she leaped toward me.

 
I spun and cried out as her knee drove up into my gut. The air knocked from me in a whoosh. Coughing, I kept my grip on my weapon.

  Without air, I couldn’t cry out when she kicked me again in the gut. I went crashing onto the floor with the powerful blow, the mirror in my circle crashing under me. So much for seven years of bad luck.

  I heard a crack as the back of my head hit the hard wood floor, and agony arced through me.

  “Rowyn!” warned Tyrius.

  “Stay there!” I shouted. I didn’t want him to get hurt. He was still not fully recovered, and I didn’t know what the angel was capable of.

  Speak of the devil, she loomed above me, her smile more terrifying when seeing it from below. “I’m going to carve out your soul, little mortal. Nothing personal. I just really want that promotion.”

  “You’re a sick bitch. You know that?” I snarled, spitting blood from my mouth and fighting a wave of nausea as I tried to stop the room from spinning. I felt as though the back of my head had exploded like a melon.

  “I’ve been called much worse,” remarked the angel, her dark face twisted in a sneer.

  My lips curled. “I believe that.”

  With a scream of fury, the angel swung her blade, the tip whistling as it came around directly for my face. I rolled and sprang to my feet. Grunting with effort and rage, I ducked and dodged her swift attack.

  She was lean and strong, but she was nothing compared to the terrifying force and speed of the archangel Vedriel.

  The angel female had skills, but she wasn’t a trained Hunter like me. She was too cocky, too brash. Soon she would make a mistake, and I’d be waiting for it.

  “You move like a bloody accountant,” I jeered, waving my blade. “Is that what you do in Horizon? Have they put you behind a desk to count numbers? It’s why you’re all worked up like that. Isn’t it? While your friends are out in the world saving mortal souls, you’re sitting at a desk pushing numbers. You must really suck as a guardian angel if I’m your ticket for an advancement.”

  I knew I’d hit a mark when her eyes narrowed. Her laugh didn’t meet her eyes as she looked at Tyrius. “I think I’ll kill your cat for an added bonus.” She smiled turning her attention back to me, but in the depths of her eyes I could see for the first time into the core of her despair, her anguish for a damn promotion.

  Anger bubbled alongside the pain in the back of my head. “Now, why did you go and have to say that.”

  She raised her barely there brows. “I hate cats. You could never truly call a cat a pet. They always had that superior look in their eyes, as though they were the masters and we were their pets.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” mewed Tyrius.

  “Plus,” she added, “I’m allergic.” The angel hurled off with a twist so swift I could barely follow. She was a mist of white as she plunged her long blade. The angel was so damn fast. Too fast for me to block her.

  I ducked and rolled, but the angel was already there. And she sent her killing blow straight to my heart.

  In that moment, all I saw was her eager, twisted face.

  But instead of the soft tear of flesh, there was a faint thud and a stinging reverberation in my chest as her dagger struck something hard and unyielding.

  My leprechaun coin.

  Her hand shook with the blow of the force. The angel cried out and stumbled back, the whites of her eyes showing. Her mouth dropped open, but she said nothing. Her eyes, full of shock and hate, remained on my chest.

  But I’d had about enough of her crap.

  I pitched forward as fast as a fae arrow. The angel’s eyes went wide as I buried the end of my death blade up through her chin and pushed it up into her brain.

  I sprang away as she toppled back, her shocking and terrible gasps dying out in heaving pants. The angel dropped her weapon, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a silent scream. White light poured from her eyes, nose, mouth and ears, until her entire body was enveloped in a sheen of light.

  And then she exploded into a million brilliant particles.

  The clang of my death blade was loud as it hit the floor. The last of the angel vanished as a mist before the sun, until there was nothing left of her but the pounding at the back of my head.

  “And then there were two,” said Tyrius as he came up beside me. “Damn, Rowyn. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, we kill another angel.”

  My legs and arms shook with the last effects of the adrenaline. “You mean, I killed. This is on me, not you.” Ah, hell. Damn those angels. I didn’t need this crap right now with everything else that was going on.

  Tyrius’s sigh was loud. “You know what this means. Don’t you?”

  I snorted. “That my life sucks?”

  “You’ve been officially charged with murder.” Tyrius’s voice was distant as he looked at the floor and what was left of my botched-up blood circle. “The Legion is going to come after you for killing the archangel.”

  “It was self-defense,” I snapped. A surge of anger rose in me, but I quickly stifled it seeing as I didn’t want to direct any of my anger at Tyrius.

  “Not according to their witnesses.”

  “Screw their witnesses. We were the witnesses.” I remembered that night like it was yesterday. Apart from Degamon and his minions, there hadn’t been anyone else inside Devil’s Mouth, one of the abandoned attractions on Fox Island’s amusement park where we’d killed the archangel Vedriel.

  “They’re lying,” I said, shaking my head. This entire thing smelled bad. Rotten. I had to find a way to prove to them that I was innocent, or I was as good as dead. “I’ve spent my entire adult life with the council looking for a chance to accuse me of things I didn’t do, and now I’ve got the Legion of angels trying to set me up and entrap me when I was only trying to defend myself.”

  “It sucks. I know,” said Tyrius. “But we can’t stop now. We need to keep moving forward.”

  “That’s all I’ve ever done,” I said. “Move forward. Keep going, Rowyn. You can do it. But forces out there just keep pushing me back. Like I’m doomed to fail.”

  “You’re not doomed to fail.”

  “Feels like it.” I found myself clenching my fists, my mood turning utterly black.

  “I know that,” said the cat, soothingly. “We’ll find a way to remove these baseless accusations. But until we can prove your innocence, you can’t stay here anymore. It’s not safe.”

  A shiver rose through me. I sank to the floor, angry and depressed. “Great,” I said, staring at nothing. I knew Tyrius was right. Any minute now there could be another pop followed by another angel, hungry for a goddamn promotion.

  My chest contracted as I fought off the tears. Jax was still Degamon’s prisoner. I had to get him back. Just as Tyrius said, the Netherworld’s air was toxic to non-demons, so Jax didn’t have much time.

  “You know there’ll be more.” Fear lay deep in his eyes, the rim of blue glistening as he snuggled next to me. “And they won’t stop until you’re dead.”

  “I know.” The Legion of angels thought I was a murderer and wanted me dead. What could be worse?

  My eyes darted to the circle, to the set of keys on top of the broken mirror. The summoning hadn’t worked. But I hadn’t failed Jax, not yet at least. Hope strummed through me, almost painfully.

  There was still a chance to save him, and I knew exactly what to do.

  30

  “Rowyn, you know I love you. But this is crazy-ass stupid!” exclaimed Tyrius. The stress in his voice only intensified the pounding of my heart. “Have you forgotten what happened the last time?”

  “Of course not. I was there.” My heart hammered inside my chest as if I had just finished a race. And it wasn’t from excitement.

  “Crap, I’m sweating like a freaking pig,” I hissed. “And now I probably stink.”

  “Right,” agreed the cat. “Stress sweat.”

  “Stress sweat.”

  “Then try to relax before you give yourself
a heart attack,” said the baal demon.

  “I can’t relax, Tyrius. You were there. You saw what happened to Jax. I have to do something. Plan A didn’t work.”

  “So we’re off with Plan B.”

  “Yup.”

  “We can still turn around and figure out another way to save Jax.” Tyrius’s warm breath tickled my cheek. “We haven’t even consulted the priest or the vampire. I’m sure if we put all our heads together, we could come up with something a lot less suicidal.”

  Tyrius’s body bounced against my shoulders as I strode down the street at a fast pace. “I’ve gone through everything already,” I said, admiring the cat’s ability to hang on without impaling me with his sharp claws. “And this is it. There isn’t another way. Right now, a dozen or more demons are torturing him. Doing things to him that I can’t even bring myself to say out loud.”

  Tyrius flinched. “I know.”

  “You look me in the eye,” I told him, “and tell me you think we should let him suffer when we have the means to save him.”

  Tyrius’s whiskers grazed my neck as he shook his head. “Degamon would have never accepted the trade, you know,” he said quietly. “Probably because it wants to come back and grab you too.”

  “I’d like to see it try.” I said. “And if it does, I’ll be ready for it.”

  “Rowyn,” Tyrius said gently, “we’re taking a terrible risk.”

  “I know,” I breathed, my gut tightening. “But Jax is worth the risk.”

  Tyrius shifted his weight around my shoulders. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing,” Tyrius mumbled under his breath.

  “I always know what I’m doing. It’s just that it doesn’t always turn out the way I want it to.”

  Tyrius was right. What I had planned was suicidal, but there could be no other way. I had to move fast. Every minute wasted was one more minute Jax had to endure the tortures of the Netherworld.

  Unshed tears made my vision blur, but I wasn’t going to cry, damn it. Not now. Not with what I was about to do.