Unchained Desire

by R. C. Alvarez

  “Tell me what to do.” Kyria laid her hand on his upper arm.

  “Lost spirits are more drawn to other human souls. And you’re half human. Call out to her.”

  “All right. I’ll give it my best shot. What do I say to her?”

  “Just talk. You’re good at that.”

  She punched his arm and glared at him before clearing her throat. “Um, hello? If you’re there, I’d like to talk to you. Please?” She turned a slow circle in place until she faced him again. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, Ram. Maybe we should get a professional.”

  He smirked. A puff of cloudy air came from her lips. The temperature dropped again. The shadows in the room dilated. He caught the confusion in the air. A veil of spiritual energy that appeared before them.

  “Just keep talking.”

  “Hello. I’m new to the ranch. Have you been here a long time?”

  A pale figure stabilized into the image of the tortured woman long dead. Kyria couldn’t see her, but she understood. She reached her hand out.

  “Ram…”

  Without saying a word, he took her hand in his and mumbled a few words under his breath. Chains rattled. His energy expanded and enveloped her, creating a momentary link between them to share his ability.

  Kyria gasped. A slender, dark-skinned woman with long black hair falling out of a tangled bun at the top of her head stood before them. She flickered in and out of view, her eyes black sockets that swallowed darkness. Her jaw hung down to leave a soundless mouth open in agony.

  “Oh my God.”

  Ramiel squeezed Kyria’s hand. “It’s fine. She can’t hurt us.”

  “I know. But I can feel her pain.”

  The heavy sorrow in her voice struck a nerve. His knuckles ached from clenching his fist. This pain wasn’t the sort he could protect her from. “Don’t take it in yourself. It won’t do either of you any good.”

  He dipped his mind into the spirit’s essence and the torn remains of her optimism and faith buzzed through his thoughts like broken radio static. At some point in her life, she must have lost herself in the darkness of her own depression. Whatever it was that made her do it, she couldn’t let go. The guilt was too heavy.

  She needed a full-powered angel who could reach into the spirit realm and help her pass on. That used to be me. Guiding souls into the afterlife. Now, without his wings, he could do nothing but watch. His chest ached.

  “Ram. I need to do something to make this better for her.”

  He glanced down at Kyria, her eyes glazed over. She held her free hand out, palm glowing with a familiar light he’d seen her use before when she healed his wound.

  “She’s stuck between worlds, Kyria. There’s no physical form for you to heal.”

  But the spirit came near without moving. The shadows jumped and flickered, allowing her to appear closer than before with her hand outstretched. Ramiel bared his teeth, snarling, ready to pull Kyria away. But he was too late. The women collided.

  Their fingers interlocked, and the clashing of energies sucked the air out of the pocket of space around them for a second.

  He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Kyria’s light sparked and chased the shadows back. The spirit finally made a horrible sucking sound as she caught the breath that she struggled for in the last moments of her life. Then she screamed.

  “Our Nephilim. Our babies. Find them.” Her image twisted, struggling to complete her message from the beyond. “Naamah. Lilith. Marchosias. Phenex. Asmodeus.”

  The scream became an ungodly groan as the ghost’s thin frame bent and cracked, folding in places it shouldn’t. “They’re taking them. Save them from the pit. Save them. Save them. They are hunting my star. Save him.”

  Ramiel turned his body, moving himself between Kyria and the spirit who spun in a coil of dark and light energy. The roar became a screeching whimper before the woman disappeared in a small flash of heat and ash that brought the loft back to its normal chilly temperature.

  “Oh my God.” Kyria gripped his arm and leaned around to look.

  He glanced over his own shoulder at the pile of ash. “What the hell did you do?”

  “She was in pain…I had to heal her. Or at least try. I think I might have made it worse.”

  She was paler than usual. The dark circles under her eyes hadn’t been there before. Had her encounter with the ghost done something to her? Maybe she pushed herself too far with her powers. Dammit, it’s my fault. I told her how to help me.

  He scowled. “She was a ghost. People can’t heal ghosts.” Could they?

  She stuck her chin out. Good, she still had enough energy to be stubborn. “I can. I just need more time.”

  The small streak of confidence nearly made him smile. He turned his head again to sniff the air. The spirit still lingered, but the energy was different. She was resting. For now.

  “You let her express what she’s been struggling with.” Still holding onto her, he vaguely remembered grabbing her when stepping to use his body as a shield from the ghost. But it didn’t occur to him until now how close he’d pulled her into him.

  “She said Nephilim were being taken, and she mentioned a pit. Oh God, what if the demons you smelled at the motel took my dad there? We have to find him. And those Nephilim. Now.”

  Determined to fight for people she didn’t know despite her own battles she had yet to win. How did she get to be that way? “One thing at a time, Kyria. It’s not your job to help them.”

  She frowned, and it nearly broke his heart.

  “Dad always taught me to just look after myself. But I’m tired of that loneliness. And if I don’t at least try to save them, then who will?”

  He didn’t say anything, struck by her resilient brilliance. His righteous hero complex always came from a selfish, prideful place, but it came so selflessly natural to her. Nothing was bad enough to keep her down for long. Maybe even his own darkness…

  “The real question is how can you not help?” she asked, her warm expression faltering.

  Healing damaged souls was not a Nephilim gift, and he could count on two hands the number of archangels who could pull off that shit. “You gave her the best you had, and she only took a piece. She’s gone into hiding again. We can’t help her if she refuses your gift.”

  Kyria’s body vibrated next to him. The pull of her blood…. He fixated on her lips.

  They were completely alone now, the cold faded away.

  “Ram.” Breathless again. Because of him?

  “What?” He leaned closer.

  “She mentioned Naamah. And a bunch of other names that I’m pretty sure I remember in one of Val’s demonology books.”

  Her words were a bucket of ice poured over him. He suppressed a groan and pulled away. He headed back down the steps, leaving the loft behind.

  She followed him as she rambled on. “It just made me think about what you said about the sheep. You were probably onto something. I mean, I know it was a long time ago and people go missing all the time. But no one would notice the difference between a kidnapper and demons abducting Nephilim. They tried to take me, and even I thought it was the cartel at first. What if this is bigger than just me? What if it’s connected to New Zealand and Peru, and these demons are taking Nephilim all around the world for one purpose?”

  “Then we’re screwed, because that means the demon lords are working together instead of fighting each other.” Outside, the sun warmed the air, but a slight chill still stung his nose. He couldn’t leave now.

  “All right. We’ll ask Val if she knows anything about this woman. And start looking for my dad whether she’s ready to or not.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After turning the horses out to pasture, Kyria grabbed Ram’s rough hand without asking. Closing her eyes, she pictured the large kitchen in the bunker. Before she finished her deep breath, they flashed there.

  Val stood in front of the stove, large pots boiling and brewing. Kyria ignored her nausea as she
squeezed Ram’s hand. He didn’t pull away.

  “What do you know about the abandoned barn?” Being blunt went against her nature, but she was tired of waiting for the truth. There were pressing matters at hand.

  The woman whipped her head around. “Oh, Kyria. You made it. Glad you two could make it for lunch.” She picked up a knife. The blade came down hard and fast, chopping innocent vegetables. Without looking up, she responded, “We have a couple of abandoned barns on the property. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  Kyria frowned, disturbed by Val’s vague answer. “The one with the ghost, maybe.”

  The cutting paused, then continued. “It has nothing to do with anything. I suggest you stay away from the area.”

  “So, you know about it.” The words left her in a rush. “Why didn’t you do anything? Why did you leave her trapped like that?” Kyria went around the island counter to confront her, but before she could bring up the warning about kidnapped Nephilim, Val snapped.

  “I couldn’t.” She slammed the knife down. “She was one of mine, and I…”

  “Who is she?”

  With the knife still in a tight grip, Val ran the back of her hand over her forehead. She focused on the stairs at the end of the room for a moment. Shaking her head, she went back to cutting, but with less vigor. “Her name was Maria. Eli brought her to me from Peru as a refugee. She’d been used by a demon for unwilling breeding. Maybe Eli’s father, I’m not sure. She managed to escape and was wandering through the mountains, lost. Until Eli found her.”

  “If you were helping her, why would she kill herself?”

  Ram leaned his hip against the counter, his shirt pulled tight as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Her time with demons might have broken her beyond repair. Sometimes only death can bring peace to that sort of slow, never-ending pain.”

  Kyria glanced at Ram’s hard profile. He’d been a prisoner in hell for longer than she’d been alive. He’d mentioned horrible things about his time with Nema, but he was here, still functioning, still helping them.

  Her archangel continued when Val didn’t respond. “She talked to us. Said we needed to save her star. If you know anything about that…”

  “Now that you mention it, I think Bishop used that same nickname.”

  Val sighed, removing the small towel from her shoulder to wipe her hands. “She was pregnant. When the baby was born, he wasn’t normal. Every time we went looking for her, she was on her knees praying. We would find blood stains on the floor. Often. I suspected she was hurting herself in penance, though she’d tell me the cuts were from being clumsy in the kitchen.” She frowned, disturbed. “Then we caught her praying over him. Not sweetly. It was desperate. Like she was trying to purge him of something dark inside. Once I had to save him from his bath. I hate the idea that she left him on purpose, but she was unstable. She thought the mark was because he was a demon spawn.”

  Setting her elbow on the counter, she leaned forward. “I tried explaining that he was a Nephilim, something special, but she didn’t see the difference.” Val set the towel down over the knife and rubbed her forehead. “I should’ve known. She couldn’t bear it. I prayed with her. Told her stories of some of the children that had grown strong and good. I was afraid to leave her alone with the child, so I watched him a lot. She went for a walk one day a couple years ago and never came back. I found her out there…God.”

  A marked Nephilim. Kyria found her throat dry when she tried to swallow. “Was she David’s mother?”

  “Yes. I…I’m starting to think there’s a connection between the mark and the child’s parent growing sick. First David’s mother, then your father became ill when your powers first started developing weeks ago.”

  A high-pitched ring filled her ears. It could be my fault?

  She didn’t know much about David besides their identical birthmarks and his affinity for superheroes. And, like most of the other children, he was parentless. What if her father had saved her from a mother who wanted to kill her? Another truth he’d needed to protect her from.

  Eyes burning, she regarded the slumped visage of her friend. “Does David know?”

  “No.” Val fully faced them. “I just told him that he’s like the others here. God’s gift to me.” She pulled on the edge of her apron and studied the ground. “What happened in the barn?”

  Ramiel answered, “The woman was drawn to Kyria.” He nodded to her. “She was somehow able to reach through the veil and calm the spirit. She was strong enough to receive a message from the other world. Warned us about Nephilim being kidnapped. Probably has something to do with Darius’s disappearance, like we suspected.”

  Kyria’s chest tightened. “If we found him, Dad could connect all the dots for us. You’re worried for David, I get that. But I’m worried too, Val. This is my dad we’re talking about! He’s all I have left. For Christ’s sake…help me.”

  Val took off her apron, calling out, “Mary, I need you in the kitchen.” Footsteps pounded down the stairs. “Where’s Eli?”

  “He took off after taking a phone call. Something about his father, I’m sure.” Ramiel answered.

  She nodded. “He’ll be back in a few days. For now, let’s go talk to David and see if he can locate Darius.” She wrung her hands like Kyria imagined any worried mother would. “I’ve been putting it off for too long…”

  God, I really hope this works. After Kyria shared the details about her father to David, even showing him a picture, the boy jumped off the top bunk and sat in the middle of a rug covered in Legos. Val followed and sat on the floor with him, taking both of his palms in her own.

  Ramiel stood at the door looking every bit a guardian angel, and Kyria sat on a chair against the wall, close to the other two. Their gazes locked, his eyes burned with an intensity of an old soul. Val reached over and brushed David’s hair out of his eyes. “You ready? Kyria has something of her father’s.” She handed him the notebook. “It’s okay if you say no. At any time, we will stop this with one word. Understand?”

  He nodded, sitting crisscross. “I want to do this. I want to help.” David spoke just as he closed his eyes.

  The air stirred. David dove right into it. Power coursed through him and into the room. Roaming. Lingering. Searching. So much from such a little person. She could imagine why it gave him headaches.

  Val moved forward, sitting on the edge of the carpet. “David, stay focused. You’re going to head down the tunnel. Through a hoop and into darkness. To the stars…”

  Kyria took a deep breath, listening to the guided meditation Val used to help the ten-year-old channel his ability.

  David gripped Val’s hands. “It’s milky and smells bad. Blinking stars that don’t give off much light.” He frowned. “I see a shape. Now it’s gone. I see…a wall of ice. It’s cold. Really cold. It’s freezing.” He shivered, and Val pulled him into her lap, smoothing his hair back.

  “I got you. Do you see her father?”

  Tension slowly drained away from the boy. Then his tiny frown returned. “Yes. He’s sleeping. But he wants to move. Something is stopping him.”

  “Tell us what you see in the room. Where is this place?”

  “It’s so cold. There’s no window. Everything’s covered in ice. There’s something in the wall. I see a face. It’s stuck in the ice. It’s screaming.” He flinched. His voice had a new edge, an uncertainty. “There’s more. People trapped in the ice. They’re reaching for me.”

  “Leave, David.” Kyria touched his shoulder, sending some of her light as her heart pounded. “Just get out of there. It’s not worth it.”

  “No. They stopped. I see something else. Chains?”

  Chains? Ramiel came to mind. No, chains were not a good sign.

  “Go on,” she murmured.

  “Lots of chains. And ice. There are long hallways and doors. Skulls.”

  Skulls? Behind her Ramiel moved, pushing away from the door to stand closer.

  “There’s an open door
. I’m going in.” David whispered.

  “No, David, stop. Come back to me.”

  “No, I want to finish this.” He shrugged her off. “It won’t help if we don’t know where he is. I’m going back to him.”

  “Where?” Kyria sat forward.

  “He’s facing me now. Oh man, he looks bad…”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s…oh no, someone’s coming.”

  “Hold on, David. Just get a location on him or something. Anything.”

  “Wings are pinned to the wall behind him. Blood covering everything. Wait. What? I can’t—” He screamed and let go, falling back to cradle his head in his arms.

  Kyria went forward and wrapped her arms around him, feeding him the rest of her healing light. As it left her, she swayed, but strong hands were there, catching her shoulders. Ramiel crouched behind her, offering support.

  “I almost had it, but something—”

  “I’m so sorry, David. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. It was dangerous. Val, I’m so sorry.”

  “But I almost had it. It was so different than anywhere I’ve ever been. It was confusing. Not normal at all. Maybe if I go back, I can figure—”

  “You’re not going back.” Val had her hand over Kyria’s.

  David didn’t hear her, though. He sat up, still holding his head. Creases of confusion marred his face. “Ice. Ice was everywhere. So cold it burned. He’s there, alive but hanging upside down, I think. And bleeding. At first, I thought he was lying down, but everything was all twisted up. The images were twisted. I didn’t understand. I need to go back. He’s…in trouble”

  Val shook her head, speaking sternly, “We can figure this out on our own now, David. You’ve done enough.”

  Kyria covered her mouth. Dad’s dying. Being tortured.

  Ramiel’s face had tightened. Pale scars turned even whiter.

  Val’s spoke. “I had no idea.” Her voice was soft and foreboding. “It sounds like one of the layers of hell.” She gathered David closer and rocked him back and forth. “I’m so sorry, David.”

  So, the demons Ramiel had smelled in the parking lot had found her dad. And they took him to some unknown world that she didn’t understand.