My brain fuzzed; the feel of his muscled body pressed to mine made it hard to think of anything else. The stroke of his tongue teased the desire for him I’d been putting off for nearly a year.
Our lips parted and I blinked up to stare into his eyes. Those eyes had become safety to me—home. “We might be drawing too much attention,” he said.
I stiffened, remembering Eli was watching, remembering we were standing in the middle of Houlihan’s restaurant. I put a slice of space between us. “I’ll, uh, call you.”
He pinched my chin, smiling. “Be careful.”
I nodded and shifted to step away, but he held me and I met his eyes. “I mean it, Em. Be careful. If anything happens to you, I will start shadowing you. No one’s gonna be able to stop me from watching your back. Got it?”
“Got it. But I’ll be fine,” I said, loving his protective nature.
I walked back to Eli, took the hand he’d offered before, and let him pull me against him.
I glanced back at Dan. “I’ll see you soon.”
Dan tipped his chin up and opened his mouth like he was about to say something. But before he could form the words, the scene around me blurred. The low hum of wind muffled my hearing; colors and shapes smeared together and reformed. Illorum could move almost as fast as magisters, and a quick in and out usually went unnoticed by any nearby humans.
Houlihan’s and Dan were gone and I was left staring at the bloody words, The Coming, scrawled across a brick wall.
Chapter Two
Eli had transported us at nearly angelic speed, a notch slower than the speed of thought. It wasn’t Eli’s top speed; he’d slowed down with me along for the ride to keep my head from exploding. Thoughtful, right?
“You could’ve warned me before we took off,” I said, stepping out of his too comforting embrace.
“Why?”
Free of his touch, my brain spun like a dropped penny trying to catch up to the rest of me. I cupped my forehead and reached a hand out to brace on the wall. It slipped, smearing along the sticky, cold blood. “Crap. Where are we?”
“The scene of the attack on Maion and his illorum,” Eli said.
I glanced up from staring at my blood-covered palm to flash him an incredulous look. “I mean, where in Pittsburgh?”
“Oh.” He reached for my hand and brushed his palm over mine. The blood was gone, though the words on the wall were still smeared, making it even harder to read.
“Shadyside,” he said. “I believe this is the back of an apartment building. Cathedral Mansion apartments.”
I fought not to visibly tremble from the contact. It wasn’t an angel thing. It was a girl-guy thing. Despite knowing how monumentally stupid it would be for me to hook up with Eli, my body didn’t seem to give a damn. My belly fluttered regardless of the innocence of the touch and my blood warmed through my veins. Sometimes innocent touches were worse.
If Eli sensed my warring thoughts, he gave no indication. Angels were constantly bombarded by the din of human thought, and most actively worked to shut it out. As my magister, Eli was almost always attuned to me, although I’d learned how to shut him out when I wanted privacy. It had taken some time and apparently most illorum couldn’t do it no matter how hard they tried. I didn’t know why I had the ability. Apparently I’m abnormal even among the abnormal. Lucky me.
He wiped a palm over the print I’d left on the wall and the blood smoothed, erasing any evidence that it’d been touched.
“That’s…that’s near the university campus, right?” I swallowed hard, wiping my hands on my jeans, trying to erase the feel of him.
Eli was the most important person in my world and the one man I could never be with. Love between us—real physical love between an angel and human—could destroy us both. That’s what started this whole mess eons ago. Eli and I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
I looked around. The streetlamp I’d glimpsed in my vision shone down on a long run of Dumpsters against the wall.
“Yes. The center of campus is a few blocks over,” Eli said. If he knew how he affected me, he kept it to himself. See? Thoughtful.
The alley let out onto Clyde Street and a small parking lot ringed by tall, leafy trees at the other end. Not even moonlight could penetrate the inky shadows cast by those trees. I pointed to the building that made the opposite side of the alley. “Those’re apartments, too, right?”
“Yes. I believe so.”
I glanced up at the rows of windows on either side, some backlit from somewhere inside, others black. “There had to be witnesses.”
“Not likely.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. Eli was good-looking, great-looking even, but he dressed like crap in off-the-rack suits that were too loose to show off the yummy shape of his body. “No one will witness our presence, even if they were to look out and see us.”
“Why not?” I was still learning all the tricks angels used to go nearly two thousand years unseen by humans.
He shrugged. “We’re in the habit of being unnoticed, easily forgotten. We strive for the mundane, the nondescript. Even now, your friend Dan couldn’t pick me out of a lineup—as he’s so apt to say. Our desire transfers through our power, making it nearly impossible for us to stand out in the human mind, to be remembered. Unless we wish otherwise.”
“What about me? Won’t they remember seeing me out here?”
“Not if you stay near enough to me.”
“So whoever attacked Maion won’t be remembered by anyone who might have seen because of his power to go unnoticed.”
“Exactly.”
“Perfect.” I sighed and turned my back to him, studying the long, dimly lit alley. It was wide enough to fit two delivery trucks side by side with one half of the alley grating up about two feet high, leaving a drop-off straight down the middle.
“Don’t you think you should check on the illorum?” Eli said after a long stretch of silence. “She’ll be dead soon.”
I glanced back at him. “What? Why? Where is she?”
Eli tipped his chin toward the drop-off beside him, indicating a spot on the lower part of the road cast in shadows from the small wall. “Where she fell.”
His words shifted my focus, and I noticed the splatter of blood on the edge of the center wall. “Why didn’t you say something?”
I jumped down and dropped to my knees beside a girl who couldn’t have been older than sixteen, and ninety-five pounds soaking wet. I’m only five foot and a buck-twenty, but I’d built up some muscle since this illorum thing all started. So compared to this kid I was a sumo wrestler.
“I told you she was nearly killed.” Eli jumped down near her head. “I told you we had to go immediately.”
“Yeah, but I thought you were just trying to get me away from Dan. And I assumed you’d called an ambulance, or the police—someone.”
“I can’t, you know that. I can’t interfere.”
I didn’t look at him. Didn’t have to. I could hear the frustration in his voice—knew what it was like for him. Magisters were forbidden to physically interfere in the battle between illorum and the Fallen, even if it meant allowing a fatally injured illorum to die. To interfere would mean the start of the war. The first war had split heaven in two and given birth to the angelic prison—the abyss. Heaven might not survive a second time.
This was our battle, the nephilim against their fathers. A way to make amends for the sin our fathers committed—the sin that had given us life. Live or die, we were on our own.
At first, I thought the girl was wearing a dark red jumper. But when I touched her shoulder she flinched, flashing a white T-shirt under her arm.
It was blood. It was all blood. And she was covered in it.
“Please…please…” Her voice was so soft and weak I could only understand the one word.
“You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe,” I said, gingerly examining her for injuries as best I could without moving her too much.
“What’s y
our name?” I asked, but she didn’t answer. Her black hair was in a long braid down her back and tight to her scalp. But when I touched the top of her head my hand came away wet with blood. “I’m Emma, an illorum. You’re gonna be okay.”
She shifted, tried to lift her head. “Water…”
“You’re thirsty?”
“Holy water,” Eli said.
“Holy water?” I moved my examination to her chest and arms, gently lifting her shirt to see her belly.
There it was, a long gash from her rib cage to her opposite hip. The edges were already knitting closed. But the skin was swelling with odd bumps, like cauliflower had gotten trapped underneath and the edges oozed a thick black liquid. There was another deep gash on her thigh and about thirty smaller stab wounds all over her body.
She should’ve been dead, would’ve been if she’d been only human. If blood loss was the worst of it, she’d probably survive with an infusion and some rest. But for illorum, losing most of your blood wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Brimstone was.
“Had to be a demon attack,” I said to Eli. “Her wounds are bubbling up from the brimstone under her skin. It’s bad.”
Demons were full of brimstone from their time in the abyss. It was under their nails, in their blood and sweat. One good rake of their claws or solid bite from a demon could kill us. I slid the girl’s T-shirt back over her stomach and pulled the delicate silver necklace with its long, slender crystal from under my blouse. I wore the thing all the time. It had been Tommy’s—a gift from Eli. About five hundred years before Tommy, Eli had given it to Jeannette d’Arc, better known as Joan of Arc. It was mine now and the sentimental value was even greater than the life-saving liquid it held. As deadly as brimstone was to an illorum, holy items like bibles, crucifixes, and rosaries could slow the poisonous effect. But the only thing that would counteract it was holy water.
My hands trembled, making it hard to unscrew the decorative silver cap. But I managed to get it open and used my free hand to lift her head enough that she could drink the swallow of holy water inside.
“This isn’t enough.” I looked up at Eli. “She’s got too much brimstone in her bloodstream. This will slow the poison, but she’ll need at least a full cup to get her healing.”
“The church of the Ascension is across the street in front of the apartments.” Eli knelt beside me, took the girl’s head onto his lap. A smile flickered across her lips, her eyes still closed. When they used their power, there was nothing as comforting as being in the lap of an angel. “I’ll stay with her,” he said.
“This okay? I mean, if any demons or Fallen happen by, they might see this as interference,” I pointed out.
He shook his head. “I am not sustaining her life or altering its destiny. I’m simply easing her pain. If you don’t hurry, there’ll be no reason to continue.”
I didn’t argue. In the time it took to sneeze, I’d teleported down the alley, up the side street, across the road, and through the front doors of the old church. Technically I was moving like anyone else, putting one foot in front of the other. But with one step, I could fold time and space and travel distances so fast I moved through any physical obstacle that stood between me and my destination.
Well, almost any. Private homes were protected against demonic and angelic power. Since my speed was part of my angel half, I couldn’t use it to teleport through the front door of someone’s home.
The church was big, and it looked like an old castle on the outside with a dark stone facade and fire-engine-red doors. Inside were glimmering marble floors inlaid with polished hardwood, towering white walls, pointed arches, and stained-glass windows. I spotted the baptismal font straight ahead at the back of the sanctuary—a huge stone chalice with artfully carved religious symbols adorning all sides.
The lid matched the chalice but with my illorum strength, I lifted it easily, setting the heavy stone on the floor next to the font. The bowl inside was shimmering gold. Real gold? Who knew? But even in the dim glow of safety lights the water inside glistened like cut diamonds against the gilded background.
I refilled the crystal on my necklace first, then searched the back of the chapel for any sort of cup I could use. On a table behind the last row of pews were stacks of programs for the last service, a few flyers announcing upcoming events, and a small wooden pencil holder with about twenty stumpy pencils inside. I dumped out the pencils and took the cup back to the font.
Pencil shavings and little bits of black crud floated on top, but none of that would lessen the power of the water. A sneeze later and I was back at the girl’s side feeding her the water, hoping it wasn’t too late.
She swallowed the last of it, her head settling back into Eli’s lap. “They…” She stopped her words, swallowing against a wince of pain and tried again, her voice soft, drowsy. “They just watched. Never…never said…a word. Didn’t even try to help… Why?”
“Who?” I asked. “Who watched?”
Her eyes closed and she sighed, passing out before she could answer. I looked at Eli and he met my gaze. But rather than answering my question, he looked to the row of Dumpsters along the wall behind me. I turned and saw the tall, statuesque angel perched on top.
There were maybe ten billion angels on heaven and earth and I probably couldn’t pick most of them out of a crowd. But this one I knew. “Fred.”
“Call the authorities. The girl needs to get to a hospital,” Eli said to me, gently lowering her head to the pavement. The instant his hands slipped from beneath her he was gone—teleporting across the alley to stand in front of the Dumpster, staring up at the other angel. I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket and dialed 911.
“Yeah. I need to report a, uh…mugging behind the Mansions apartments in Shadyside. In the alley. Send an ambulance; the girl’s pretty beat up.” I thumbed the off button before the woman could ask me any more questions and felt the girl’s neck for a pulse.
She was still alive. She’d probably make it. I looked down the alley to Eli. He and Fred were talking, their voices so soft I couldn’t hear a sound. If not for their lips moving I’d think they weren’t saying anything at all.
I pushed to my feet and started toward them. Fred wasn’t really the angel’s name, but since the guy was too arrogant to speak to me, I figured I could call him whatever I wanted. Fred was the first name that came to mind when I’d caught him stalking Eli and me last summer. And it kinda stuck.
“Hey. ’Sup, Fred?” I called out when I was close enough. The freakishly tall angel didn’t even spare me a glance.
He was thin, with big hands and long fingers. His skin was pasty white, made more intense by the brilliant bloodred of his elbow-length hair. The guy had the kind of hair some women would kill for, thick and damn near luminescent. Despite it being full-on night, Fred wore mirrored, wire-framed sunglasses. Maybe he thought they looked cool with his long, white trench coat—his white shoes, slacks, shirt, and tie. The guy seriously needed to broaden his color palette.
Whatever. Fred was an ass.
“Ask it who destroyed the magister,” he said to Eli.
Eli turned to me. “Fraciel would like me to ask you who destroyed the magister.”
I blinked at Eli. It? “Seriously? He knows I heard him, right?” I looked up at the redheaded angel. “I have ears, y’know.”
Eli’s brow creased. He shook his head. “Emma Jane, no. He’s a seraph. The fact that he acknowledges your presence even through me is testament to the severity of the situation.”
More like a testament to the fact that he’s an ass. I sighed. “Whatever. Fraseal is it?”
“Fraciel,” Eli corrected, like I’d said it wrong.
“Fraseal.”
Eli shook his head and, I swear, repeated the name exactly the way I’d said it. “Fra-ci-el.”
“Enough. Tell Fred I have no idea who hurt the girl and her magister. She’s out cold and until she can recover, she’s not talking.”
Eli turn
ed back to the redhead. “As I told you, she doesn’t know. I alerted her to the attack after I had already investigated the scene and found Maion gone and the illorum critically injured.”
“Why?” Fred asked, his lips a straight line, his expression stiff.
Eli tilted his head at his brother, confused. “Why?”
“Why did you waste time alerting your illorum? Why did you not pursue the assailant?” I guess Eli’s continued confusion showed on his expression, prompting Fred to elaborate. “Your priority is to your brother, discovering who has committed this heinous act and how.”
“The girl was dying,” Eli said.
Fred raised his chin. “An illorum’s health is immaterial.”
I don’t know what happened. I mean, I knew except for magisters most seraphim would sooner kill nephilim than look at us. We were the product of sin and living proof of a lost brother. But I saw red and pulled my sword without thinking, willing the blade to manifest as I moved forward. “Immaterial? She risked her life doing your dirty w—”
My knees bent under me the second Fred looked my way. I hit the concrete road hard and the breath gushed from my lungs, pain jarring up through my thighbones. Giant invisible fingers crushed my chest, flattening my lungs; I couldn’t get another breath.
Eli moved between us in a flash, his sword in his hand. It didn’t do any good. “Fraciel, no. Please.”
Magisters were forbidden from interfering in the battles between illorum and Fallen, but there were no rules about my magister protecting me from another seraph.
Fred’s attention shifted to Eli. “Control your human, Elizal. Its insolence reflects poorly on you.”
“I know. She…she is ignorant, new to the truth.” He glanced at me, then back to the arrogant angel still standing on the Dumpster. “Please, Fraciel.”
My vision darkened at the edges, my body screaming for air. I’d dropped my sword and grasped at my chest and neck, desperate to somehow expand my lungs. Fred would kill me without lifting a finger. The power he wielded in a single thought was greater than anything I’d ever encountered. Eli could stop him, maybe. But it would mean choosing me—a human—over his brother, and the implications of such a blatant defiance could have catastrophic consequences…for both of us.
Hellsbane 02 - Heaven and Hellsbane Page 2
