King of the Wicked (The Banished Series Book 1)

by T. R. Hamby

  Nora stepped forward, seized the hammer and threw it across the room.

  He was livid. He looked in the direction the hammer had gone, and then back at Nora, seething. Then he lunged at her, reaching out his hands and wrapping them around her throat. They tumbled onto the floor, and she struggled.

  She remembered doing this with Mel. Knee to the groin. Knee to the groin. Patrizio wasn’t focused, so scattered that he wasn’t even squeezing. It was so easy.

  And yet she hesitated. Her mind was clearing again, and she looked into his face and realized what was happening.

  This is how you die. This could be how she died...how she could finally become Immortal. Her choice...her deal with God. All she had to do was the exact opposite of what Mel had taught her--nothing.

  Her heart pounded, begging her to reconsider, to choose life.

  But it was too late...Patrizio had shifted, pinning her legs, and he was squeezing...it hurt...she struggled...his face was close enough that she could scratch out his eyes…

  No, don’t do it...don’t do it...Mel...Mel…

  He was squeezing so hard. Her lungs seared. Every cell in her body begged for air, just a breath...god, it was too much…

  Darkness swallowed her.

  The pain subsided slowly, until it was gone altogether. Nora opened her eyes. She was in a dim Place, almost shadowy, and she was lying on the ground. She frowned--something was different. She ran her hands up her body, searching, and then realized--she wasn’t breathing. Her heart wasn’t beating.

  She was dead.

  “Fuck,” she whispered, and she sat up. Everything that had happened with Patrizio went through her mind, and she held her head in her hands. How long ago had that been? And where was she now?

  She stood. Her legs were strong. She wasn’t shaking. She looked around, but couldn’t see anything in the shadows. She didn’t feel fear or happiness here. It was very neutral.

  Nora, a soft voice said, and she looked around. She didn’t know that voice.

  “Hello?” she said uncertainly.

  Hello. Do you know where you are?

  She frowned, and looked around again. There was an oven, and a stove. A doorway that led to a backyard.

  It’s your childhood home, the voice said gently. You have missed it.

  She felt the first stirrings of fear. She whirled around.

  “God?” she breathed.

  Yes. Don’t be afraid.

  That’s what Mel always said. She shivered. “Is Mel okay?”

  He is sleeping. You know that.

  The voice was soothing.

  She felt tears running down her cheeks. She brushed at them, almost amazed. “I didn’t think you would speak to me.”

  You aren’t the first. We were making a deal, weren’t we?

  She looked up. Her heart would have skipped a beat had it not been lifeless.

  “It’s still on?” she whispered.

  Yes--if you want it. He paused, then continued, You have two choices. Go to your parents in Heaven--where you will be happy--or live forever on Earth with Mel. The first choice is simple. The second...requires some stipulations.

  “But you’re offering it to me?” she said firmly. “Immortality?”

  I am offering you an eternity with my son, God said. Something I know you desire out of selflessness--not greed or vanity.

  She took a shuddering breath. It was actually happening. Could it really be happening?

  You doubt me, he said, and there was amusement in his voice.

  “I’m still new to all this,” she whispered, and there was a faint chuckle.

  They were quiet a moment. Then Nora said, “What stipulations?”

  The first--that you must help my sons in their task to send evil ones to Hell, he told her. Which you have been doing so well already.

  She nodded, almost smiling. She could do that. “And the second?”

  A pause. Then, You have, so kindly, befriended Gilla Johansson. She is a child most precious to me, one of my favorites. Her true name means “splendid,” and her alias means “joy.” Both true to her nature.

  Nora couldn’t help but agree, although she was confused.

  There will come a time when Gilla will become...special, God continued. And she will suffer. I need you to be there for her as you have been for my sons. She will need you, and your help will be crucial.

  She nodded slowly, utterly bewildered.

  A chuckle. You are confused. But with time you will understand. What you are doing now with her is a good beginning.

  She nodded vaguely. It was a lot of information.

  One question formed in her mind. “What about her and Michael?”

  They will have to decide that for themselves.

  And then the dam broke, and a million other questions flew through her mind. Why tell Michael to kill Lilith? Why force Agatha to be the killer? But she knew now why Michael was so hesitant to ask questions--this was God. He was...intimidating. A simple question could dash her hopes of becoming Immortal.

  She bit her lip, and was surprised to feel pain. She hesitated, shifting on her feet. She could see the markings on the wall, ticking off each year she and Izzie were measured, and she felt a melancholy pang.

  What is it?

  She sighed. “It’s just...I only wonder if...shouldn’t Mel be able to see his sisters? At least just once? Hasn’t he been punished enough?”

  There was a pause, and for a moment she was sure she had ruined everything.

  But then the voice said, Yes. You may have a point. He has suffered very much.

  “He works better when he’s happy,” she pointed out, and there was another chuckle.

  You are sharp. Just as I imagined you’d be.

  She frowned. “You didn’t--Create me that way?”

  His voice was regretful. I Created life, he said. But I didn’t Create you. That is why there is so much evil in the world. I don’t have control over what mortals do with themselves anymore. That is something Mel took from me a long time ago, when he ran away with Lilith.

  There was sadness in his voice, and Nora felt it in her bones. It was like when her father was sad. He would play dark tunes on the piano, and she would sit in his lap and try to cheer him.

  “We all have the chance to be good,” she offered lamely.

  Another chuckle. Yes. The good is what helps me. My son is good...but he followed his heart instead of me.

  She hesitated, then whispered, “God? Can I...can I ask for one more thing?”

  Go on.

  “Can I see my mom and dad again?”

  There was a pause, but it was a gentle one.

  Go out the door, he said. They’re waiting for you.

  Michael

  He felt uneasy, and he didn’t know why.

  “You are like a jumping bean,” Gilla teased, gently elbowing him in the ribs as he shifted for the twentieth time. “Something’s bothering you.”

  They were sitting in bed, Gilla leaning on Michael’s chest. They had taken time to catch up, and it was...very nice. Michael had almost forgotten how good it was to be with her.

  “Are you happy?” she asked suddenly, studying him.

  He looked around at her. He found that he had to think for a moment before replying.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’m...much happier than I used to be.”

  She nodded. He was surprised to find that she looked worried. “Do you take medication?”

  He stared at her. “Medication?”

  “Yes. Like Nora.”

  He suddenly felt uncomfortable, and he frowned at her. “Where are you getting this?”

  She looked a little embarrassed, but replied firmly, “I worry about you. Sometimes you seem...distant. In another place.”

  He felt an overwhelming mixture of guilt and embarrassment. He sat up, arms on his knees, his jaw working.

  Great. Now he was worrying Nora and Gilla. He had never considered the fact that he might have...human prob
lems, until the two women came into his life. Suddenly there was happiness in his life again, true happiness. Nora made him laugh, made him roll his eyes. And Gilla...she was just…

  She slid her arms around his shoulders, squeezing.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, and her voice was tinged with guilt. “I shouldn’t pry.”

  He looked at her. She still looked worried, her blue eyes piercing.

  He looked away, took a deep breath. “Sometimes,” he began, then stopped, sighing. Finally he managed, “I’m happy. I’m sorry, I...shit. You know I’m not good at this.”

  She chuckled, and he looked at her again; she seemed much less worried now. She sat in his lap, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him. He immediately relaxed, holding her in his arms. She was good, so good.

  He checked his watch later. “Ten to nine. I have to go.”

  “Stay,” she sighed, as he got out of bed and put his clothes on. She looked so inviting, sitting cross-legged in the bed, her face pulled into a pout.

  He laughed. “Don’t make that face. You’re killing me.”

  “I just got back.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Drive me to the theater?”

  “You live a block away. I’ll walk you.”

  She pouted again, though he could tell it was in jest. He kissed her, breaking away as soon as she tried dragging him back into bed.

  “Tomorrow,” he breathed.

  He was still smiling when he left, getting into his car and driving across the city to Nora’s building. It was good to see Gilla again. She had only been gone for two days, but he had missed her. The phone calls hadn’t been enough, and she had felt so good in his arms.

  He frowned. Nora had been giving him knowing looks at the airport, every time he put his arm around Gilla, held her hand, whispered in her ear. He wished she wouldn’t look so smug.

  But maybe he was just hiding from the truth. Maybe he really could love, like Mel did. He didn’t know how it felt...he wasn’t familiar with the sensation. All he knew was that Gilla was so...so full of life, so sweet, so good. He wanted to be with her. He hated leaving her apartment, leaving her alone. He craved time with her, loved touching her. And she made him act...different, bringing out something in him that hadn’t seen the light of day in thousands of years.

  And she clearly cared for him too, at least enough to worry about his health, enough to beg him to stay with her for just a few minutes longer. There were these looks she gave him, that made him smile. And every so often she would wrap her arms around his neck, hugging him tight, holding on as if afraid of letting go.

  But he couldn’t think of that now. There were other matters at hand. He was sure Nora had looked into what Gilla had said about tricking someone into revealing their IP address. He was eager to see what she had found.

  He parked at her building, and took the stairs to the second floor. He knocked on the door, but Nora didn’t answer.

  He frowned. His uneasiness creeped up on him again, and he knocked louder. He only waited a few seconds before turning the handle; it was unlocked, and he burst in.

  His insides filled with ice. There had been a struggle: A lamp was knocked over, the kitchen table was sideways…

  “Nora!” he called, looking around wildly. His eyes darted toward the kitchen, and his heart dropped--a pair of feet was visible beyond the island…

  He raced over to her. No, no, no. She was still, her face blue, angry marks swollen on her neck.

  “Nora!” he moaned, grasping her shoulders and shaking her.

  Oh, god. She was dead. She was dead.

  A million thoughts went through his head, as despair overwhelmed him. She was gone forever. His best friend. He had lost her; it was his fault. Mel would be devastated. He would die from grief. It was all Michael’s fault...it was too much...the pain was so great…

  And then there was movement. He blinked, studying her. Had she really moved?

  But there was something else. A shifting in the air, a sort of...Presence. He looked around--was there another Angel nearby?

  But the Presence was right there...right where Nora was...and as he looked at her, she opened her eyes, and then gasped, taking in a lungful of air.

  She bolted upright, gasping, her curly hair tumbling over her shoulders. Then she dropped back down, groaning.

  “Oh my god,” she moaned, grimacing.

  Michael stared at her, wondering for a moment if he was hallucinating.

  Then he let out a breath, as everything clicked. “Oh my fucking god,” he whispered. “You’re Immortal.”

  She looked at him, her eyes wide. “Really? You think so?” Her face was a normal color again, and the marks on her neck had vanished.

  “I can feel it,” he said, taking her hand and helping her sit up. “How do you feel?”

  She touched her throat and shivered. “That guy? Where is he?”

  He shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t know--I just came in.”

  “Well, where were you?” she demanded, and he couldn’t help but grin.

  “Somewhere with my head up my ass, apparently,” he breathed, relief washing over him. “You’re alive. Jesus, you’re alive. I thought you were dead.”

  And he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. But she squirmed, and he let her go.

  “I have to know for sure,” she said, getting to her feet, stumbling, righting herself and snatching a knife from the drawer.

  “What are you--?”

  But he understood as she held her hand over the sink. She slid the blade down her palm, and ruby red blood began to drip into the basin.

  She looked amazed. “It barely hurts.”

  “I already told you,” he murmured, watching as she washed the blood off her hand.

  She stared at her palm, which was as good as new. She shook her head, her lips pulling into a bewildered smile. “Oh my god.”

  He watched as she turned to him, a grin spreading on her face.

  “Michael.”

  He felt his lips twitch, and he was ready as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing.

  “It worked! It worked--I’m Immortal!”

  He chuckled, using this opportunity to hold her close. For a few seconds he had been certain that he had lost her. He didn’t think he would mind her snark ever again.

  After a moment she broke away, nearly shaking with excitement.

  “I can do anything now,” she breathed, holding her head. “I can learn a new language--run a marathon--study art--”

  “There are still only twenty-four hours in a day,” he reminded her soothingly. “And you need to sleep.”

  “Do I still need to take my medication?” she wondered feverishly. “Will it work on me? Or am I cured? Maybe I’m cured!”

  “Calm down,” he said firmly, and his voice seemed to stall her. “You’ll probably still need your meds. You’re still human...you just can’t die.”

  She let out a breath, and she seemed to relax a little. “Oh. Okay.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  She let out a breathy chuckle. “I just can’t believe it. Are you sure?”

  “You saw your hand.”

  “But you feel it,” she said, taking his hand. “You can tell?”

  He cocked his head. “Can you feel anything?”

  Nora frowned, and looked around, as if searching. Michael watched as she closed her eyes, taking a few steps away, her fingers tracing the edge of the counter. Then she turned back around, eyes still closed, and faced him.

  She opened her eyes, nodding. “I feel you,” she whispered, amazed. “It’s like...like a beacon.”

  He smiled. “That’s a good word for it.”

  “Oh my god, Michael...it actually happened.”

  He looked at her, and the gravity of what had happened hit him in full force. Nora...his closest friend, his newest sister...was now Immortal. He would never have to watch her grow old,
never have to see her die. She would always be at his side--always there to annoy him. He was happy, even happier now than he had been. She must have caught his emotion, because she grinned, and they held each other again, laughing.

  After a while he frowned, and he pulled away to look at her.

  “What guy?” he asked, and she looked shocked.

  “Oh shit,” she breathed. “The killer. Patrizio--he found my address--he...he strangled me. I let him kill me.”

  Michael stared at her, bewildered, and she took the time to explain further. The message she had sent with the link in it...Patrizio hacking into the internet provider to get her information...Patrizio fighting Nora, and Nora giving up the fight so she could die…

  He was getting angrier and angrier as the story progressed. At the end, he was livid.

  “This time he dies,” he whispered, his eyes flashing.

  “We don’t know where he is.”

  “We have an idea,” he said.

  She nodded. “Now we can go together.”

  He hesitated--he didn’t want her to get hurt. But then he remembered, and he smiled. “You’re right.”

  She started, her eyes wide, and whirled around. Then she raced to the living room, behind the recliner, and stooped down.

  “Yes,” she exclaimed, straightening. “He left his hammer!”

  Michael ran over to her, and they examined the hammer together. He couldn’t believe it--stamped on the handle were the words, Construzione di Lastra.

  “Lastra Construction,” she said, looking triumphant. “I bet we don’t need an IP address to find that.”

  Nora

  “Do you think I have super strength now?” Nora breathed, bouncing on her feet as she and Michael walked the dark streets. She felt energized, high off the fact that she was now unkillable. The construction business was on the west side, but Michael figured the walk would do her good.

  He was smiling, and she knew he was happy for her, if not amused.

  “I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “Again, you’re still human. I think the only thing that’s changed is you can’t die.”

  “Is that why I still bleed when I get cut?” she wondered. “Angel skin is impenetrable, isn’t it?”