Hellsbane 02 - Heaven and Hellsbane

by Paige Cuccaro

  “That’s not your decision.”

  “No. It’s mine,” Liam said, stepping between the demon and Eli. He made a wall of himself even though the wall was barely five feet high. Okay, so maybe he was more of a hedge.

  “Wait. Wasn’t Amon just begging for Eli to shish kebab him with his sword a second ago?” I said.

  Eli exhaled like I’d asked if snow was white and glanced back at me. “He begged that I end him. Your sword, your power, sentences the Fallen to the abyss. My sword…ends them.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Right.” Maybe I was missing something. “So, what’s the difference?”

  “The abyss is punishment,” Liam said. “Eternity in darkness, their bodies and minds feeding upon themselves. ’Tis a hell worse than any dreamed by men or debated by science.”

  “The point is that they exist. They continue—even in the abyss they think, feel, and suffer…forever,” Eli said.

  “Well, yeah, that’s kinda the definition of immortal,” I said.

  “None of us is truly immortal. We do not age or suffer illness,” Eli said. “We have no natural end. But the blade of an angelic sword can end our existence, as it is. We return to the divine ether, to the spirit and power from whence we were formed. What we were…ceases.”

  I looked to Amon, tears drying, though his wide-eyed, handsome face was still etched with sorrow. “And you don’t want to end him because…?”

  “He doesn’t deserve it,” Eli replied.

  “What the bugger-all do you know, ya feckin’ wingless fairy,” Liam said.

  “I know his sin.” Eli’s voice was cold steel. “I know the pain his defiance wrought on the humans he used to satisfy his wicked desires.”

  “I loved them,” Amon said, his head low. “I loved her…I loved Beatrice with all that I am.”

  “Then you should have left her untouched, uncorrupted,” Eli said. “You would have done her less harm.”

  “Her?” I so did not understand angel sexual preference.

  Liam huffed. “Said I was gay. ’Tis all the same for angels.”

  Eli continued as though he hadn’t heard. “She was inconsolable after your banishment. She…” He exhaled, jaw tight, hands flexing, and then he looked away.

  Amon lifted his gaze to Eli, back stiffening. “She what?”

  In one swift movement, Eli drew his sword, pulling it from the invisible sheath at his side. He pushed Liam aside before the small man could see him move. Eli leveled the point of his sword at Amon’s neck, light reflecting off the metal beneath the demon’s chin.

  “If my blade could banish you to the eternal torment…”

  Amon’s expression flattened and he held his ground. “She what? Tell me.”

  “She took her own life,” Eli said.

  The demon stumbled back, his face going ashen, mouth agape—wordless.

  “She believed in death you would be reunited. She orphaned her child…your child.” Eli stepped closer, pressing his sword’s point against Amon’s flesh again. “Why would she believe such a thing unless you lied to her?”

  Amon shook his head. “No…no. I wouldn’t.”

  Liam shoved his way between the two men, slicing his sword against Eli’s, knocking it away from Amon. “Are ya deaf? He loved her. The daft bird never knew what he was. Didn’t know there was a special hell for fools the likes of him. He never told her. Was her human beliefs that twisted her reasoning. Not Amon.”

  “And now you’ve decided to take out your resentment on those of us who’ve proven stronger than you. Is that it?” Eli asked. “You resent us, your brothers who have controlled our desires and resisted temptation despite our nearness to humans.” Eli lowered his sword and leaned forward, his chest uncomfortably close to Liam’s face. “What are you doing with the magisters’ swords?”

  Confusion creased a mirroring expression across both Amon’s and Liam’s faces. Amon visibly swallowed and lifted his chin. “You’re wrong, Elizal. I’ve harmed no one since returning from the abyss.”

  “You fecks think it was us?” Liam asked, his green eyes looking from Eli to me and back again. “You think we took that lad’s head back there? Done in his magister? Truly? Have ya lost yer bleedin’ gourds?”

  “The girl from the alley said it was an illorum and a demon who attacked her and her magister,” I said. “And here you are.”

  Liam held his hands out to his sides. “Do ya see any bloody angelic swords on me? We’ve been tracking the pair same as you.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because the pricks killed me magister. That’s why.”

  That got Eli’s attention. He stepped back. “What was his name? When did this happen?”

  There were thousands of magisters, each one as focused on his illorum as Eli. It was just too easy to lose track of each other, too easy not to notice when one of them went missing even with their angelic connection. I could see how the news had come as a shock to Eli.

  “No more than a fortnight ago,” Liam said.

  I stiffened. “Before the attack on Maion?”

  “Aye. Me magister’s name was Rehel, and despite wantin’ to keep me under his thumb, he was a right fine bloke. Didn’t deserve what they done to him.”

  “You saw it?” I asked.

  Liam looked at me, pain glistening in his small green eyes. “Aye, I saw them take his hand half a click before they used his own blessed sword to take his head. And there wasn’t a bleedin’ thing I could do to stop it.”

  “Lies,” Eli said, sword still in hand, his other fisted tight. “What kind of illorum stands by and watches his magister slaughtered?”

  “The kind that’s battling for his own buggered life, that’s what,” he said. “The demon you’re lookin’ for ’tis wicked fast and meaner than hellfire. Killed the poor gom Rehel had been trainin’.”

  “He had taken on a new illorum?” I knew magisters often brought in a second or third trainee, especially when the first was particularly experienced. That’s how it’d worked for Eli, Tommy, and me. And then Tommy had been killed. Eli had yet to volunteer to take on a new trainee.

  “Aye. Not more than a month marked,” Liam said. “If Amon hadn’t tackled the bloody demon battling me, I’d be a head shorter me self.”

  “Amon was there?” Eli’s cold stare shifted to the demon behind Liam. “So he is involved with the attacks.”

  “No, ya eejit,” Liam said. “He was passin’ by is all. But he’d be a right prick to walk on while two of his brother’s bastards were ripped from the mortal coil.”

  “No. He’d just be what he is, a demon,” Eli said, his gaze never leaving the tall blond behind Liam.

  “Why’d you help him?” I asked Amon. “Why would a demon help save an illorum?”

  Amon’s gaze shifted from Eli to me, his expression softening. “The abyss is a cold, maddening place devoid of all light. It’s not meant to kill its inhabitants but to damage, to punish, to slowly strip away all that made us what we were. Our beauty is the first to be destroyed, then our compassion, and finally our minds. I was not a prisoner long enough to forget my heart.”

  “How long were you in there?” I asked.

  “Five years.” Eli’s tone was flat.

  Amon looked to the angel and then lowered his gaze. “Less than that. My savior was banished twenty-two months ago. I have been free for some time.”

  Liam poked a finger at Eli’s chest, glaring up at him. “And he’ll stay that way as long as me lungs draw breath.”

  Eli looked down at the brassy redhead, fighting the smile ghosting across his lips. He snorted, then sobered. “Trusting a demon may be the very thing that costs you that last breath.”

  “So why were you there when Liam’s magister was attacked?” I asked, refocusing the conversation. “You expect us to believe you were just passing by? Really?”

  “Aye, that’s right,” Liam said. “And a lucky coincidence was all it was.”

  The tall man glanced at his pint-size love
and back to me, his cheeks flushing. “No. It wasn’t a coincidence. I had been…watching Liam for a few months. He doesn’t remember but he saved me long before I saved him.”

  “Bollocks,” Liam said.

  “How, Amon?” I asked.

  “After my fellow brothers in service to our master—”

  “Demons,” Eli said, interrupting. “Demons in service to a Fallen.”

  Amon’s gaze flicked to the dark-haired angel beside me, a cold acceptance hardening in his violet eyes. “Yes, Elizal, that’s right. My fellow demons had scattered the moment we were free of our debt to the Fallen who’d pulled us from the abyss. I was alone. Even the damned among angels are not built for solitude. We need to connect to our kind. And after months with only my thoughts for companionship, I’d grown so desperate that I considered offering my service to another Fallen.”

  “And Liam stopped you?” I asked.

  “He did.” Amon’s handsome smile lit his face, looking down at the short illorum. “By banishing the Fallen to whom I meant to pledge my allegiance.”

  “No,” Liam said, clearly surprised to hear the story. “Who was it?”

  “Farun.”

  “Naaww…” Liam shook his head, looked away for a second and back again, his surprise melting to understanding and then love. “You never told me.”

  “It didn’t matter,” Amon said. “You were so beautiful. Your conviction, your sense of duty and justice, shined like a brilliant light around you. You walk with the grace of our Father within you, Liam. I was helpless to resist.” He hiked a shoulder. “Plus, I’ve always been a sucker for redheads.”

  “Wait,” I said, my brain shuffling information and finding holes. “If there’s no Fallen forcing you to fight for him, why did you attack me just now?”

  Amon’s violet eyes swung to me. “You were chasing me. Waiting for me with your sword drawn. Was I simply to let you end me?”

  Good point. I shook my head, moving on. “So, basically you were stalking Liam,” I said, my smile letting them know it wasn’t meant as an accusation.

  Amon glanced from Liam to me and back again. “I suppose I was.”

  “Lucky me,” Liam said, pushing up on his toes to press a kiss to Amon’s lips.

  “Why didn’t you alert anyone to your magister’s murder?” Eli asked, unmoved by the pair’s romantic how-we-met story.

  Liam’s brows creased. “What, the way you pricks tell us when an illorum bites us in the arse? Keep track of your own bloody brood, why don’t ya? Besides, he was my magister. His death was mine to avenge, it was. Didn’t know the bastards were making a habit of it, now did I?”

  I knew when I first met Liam that he was sort of fighting on his own team rather than picking sides between good and evil. He wouldn’t raise a sword for a demon, but as he put it, he wouldn’t be the seraphim’s dirty little bitch either.

  Eli opened his mouth to comment, but I spoke before he could. “So you’ve both seen the pair who’s been attacking magisters and their illorum. Did they say anything? Do you know why they’re doing this? Why they’re keeping the swords?”

  Liam shook his head. “Naw. I got to the fight late. There was no time for talk. The illorum was a tall git—thin, mid-thirties, blond hair, glasses. The blasted demon was an old one, thick and strong and dressed in one of those sherwani outfits, like a Hindu priest if that don’t beat all.”

  I glanced at Eli, both of us recognizing the description of the demon Nenita had given. But the illorum didn’t match. I looked back at Liam. “You’re sure the illorum was a grown man—not a kid, maybe an older teenager?”

  The small man nodded. “I’m sure of it. But I can’t say for certain he was an illorum. There was somethin’ off about the fella. His sword was black as pitch and I got a glimpse of his mark. The feckin’ thing was ruined, like somethin’ had cut it in half, left a scar straight through.”

  “Did it look like the sword was broken?” I asked.

  “Aye. That’s it exactly,” he said, green eyes widening. “What’s that about?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. But we need to figure this out fast, before anyone else is attacked.”

  “I can tell ya this. The bloke was takin’ orders from the blasted demon like he’d been the one who’d given him his powers. If me gut hadn’t told me the big one was a demon, I might’ve thought they were magister and illorum.”

  “Perhaps you’re closer to the truth than you think,” Eli said. “If the demon is as old as you say, he could have the power to seduce nephilim, corrupt their minds, and persuade them to do his bidding.”

  Liam shook his head. “Naw. This bloke already had his power. No demon can trigger a nephilim’s angelic half, no matter how old he is. Only an illorum sword can do that.”

  “But an angel can. Rifion figured it out. He’d triggered the power in hundreds of nephilim before I banished him,” I said. “Those people are still out there. They’ve got the same power as you and me, but no mark, no sword, no focus. What if this guy was one of them?”

  “Possibly. We know this demon had been serving Rifion—working with him and the awakened nephilim,” Eli said. “Now he’s finishing the job on his own.”

  “Naw, I don’t believe it,” Liam said.

  “I agree with Liam,” Amon said. “That black sword came from somewhere. Like a twisted version of an illorum sword. Someone made it for him. And even an old demon can’t do that. There has to be a Fallen behind the scenes pulling the strings.”

  Eli’s cold, blue eyes shifted to Amon. “You’re a demon. Your opinion is suspect by default and therefore meaningless. Fallen do not work in concert with each other; their egos won’t permit it. Rifion would not have shared his knowledge with another Fallen. It is unreasonable to believe any other Fallen would have risked being in the presence of an empowered nephilim long enough to discover that he had not been marked.”

  “So who made their swords?” I asked.

  Eli looked at me. “I can’t say for sure without inspecting the weapon itself. If this demon is as old as we suspect, he could have the power to seduce an illorum and turn him against his calling. In that case, maybe the blackened sword is an indication of corruption.”

  “Have ya ever heard of such a thing?” Liam asked.

  Eli shook his head. “No.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. There’s a first time for everything. But something about it doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “Then we should not assume anything,” Eli said. “You were born to battle the Fallen and their demon minions. Your instinct would not mislead you.”

  “Glad you’re sure of that,” I said.

  Eli smiled and my heart skipped a beat. “I am sure of you,” he said. “I will request an audience with the Council. If there’s any instance of a blackened illorum sword and corrupted mark, they will know of it.”

  The Council was made up of seven archangels who interpreted the word and will of God and served as a kind of Supreme Court for all angelic matters. They rarely came to earth, using several self-important errand boys, like Fred, to keep them up to date on the dirty details.

  “Good idea,” I said. “Let me know.”

  “We’ll stay on the prick’s trail,” Liam said.

  “And I’ll…go home. I’ve got a family thing tomorrow.” I wanted to do something, go after them, go with Eli to hear what the Council knew, but I’d promised my mom. And my sister Lacey would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t show up.

  “I’ll keep you informed,” Eli said, as we all turned to leave.

  “Elizal, wait,” Amon said. “Where is my daughter?”

  My heart dropped. “You’re going to kill her? She’d still be just a baby.”

  Amon’s violet eyes shifted to me. “No. I want to help raise her. We’re not all the selfish fiends you’ve been told. Some of us, many of us, love our children as any parent would. Even when they’ve been turned against us.”

  Well, crap. Tha
t complicates things.

  §

  I used to think the danger I posed to my family from being an illorum was the risk that demons would target and kill them to hurt me.

  I was wrong. It was way worse than that.

  It didn’t take long to figure out that despite their supernatural strength and power, a demon’s most dangerous weapon against humans was his frightening ability to seduce. They’re master manipulators—corrupting human morals, asserting their influence little by little, convincing people to go against their principles, to hurt themselves or others, ruining lives.

  They have eternity to work their destructive power and the more subtly they weave their dark influence, the less likely they are to be discovered. I had thought avoiding my family was the best way to keep them safe. But then I discovered a demon posing as my sister’s gynecologist.

  He had no idea the woman whose life he was worming his way into—with plans to wreak havoc however she would carelessly allow—had an illorum for a kid sister.

  I didn’t tell her I’d been the reason Dr. Kern suddenly gave up his practice and was rumored to have moved to Costa Rica. She also had no idea that he really hadn’t moved anywhere but had been banished to the abyss. No one did.

  Staying away from my family didn’t keep them safe, but involving myself too deeply in their lives was still a senseless risk. Finally I’d decided to aim for a happy medium over the past year or so—visiting for a few moments here and there, trying to get a feel for any demonic influence. The annual family reunion was a perfect opportunity to get a read on the whole Hellsbane clan.

  “There she is,” my mother said when I stepped into the shade of the pavilion in Mingo Park. “I told you she wouldn’t miss the family reunion.”

  My sister, Lacey, rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say she wouldn’t make it. I said she’d be late.”

  “Well, yeah. I’m a Hellsbane. It’s kind of our thing. How late were you?” I found an empty spot on the picnic table for my famous green Jell-O salad and looked across the outdoor room to my uncle Greg and his son Justin. I waved.