Angel of Distrust

by Tabitha Barret

  Blessedly, Farouk removed the sword from his back and disappeared. Had the sword remained, it would have caused a multitude of problems since Haydn couldn’t reach the sword to pull it out and he would have to explain the blue flame to the mortals.

  Laying on the ground, he thought about Farouk’s ultimatum. Could he simply walk away from the Warriors without saying a word? It felt dishonest, but he feared that Rowan would corroborate Farouk’s version of the story and he would be branded a traitor, or worse, killed. He hated the idea of allowing Farouk to continue toward his journey of becoming a Rogue, but he wouldn’t be able to change anything if he were dead. No, he would have to find another way to condemn Farouk. Leaving the warriors was for the best, regardless of what had happened with Farouk. The corruption he had witnessed turned his stomach and without a General who was capable of keeping his angels in line, there was little recourse.

  While pondering his fate, he heard concerned shouts from the nearby farmhouse. The woman must have convinced someone in her household of her attack. Three tall men were bounding through the field with the woman in tow. She was explaining how he had saved her from the strong man who had forced her into the grain house.

  She began to cry when she saw that he was injured and pushed past the men to run to his side.

  “We must help him!” she cried. “He saved me.”

  Haydn was grateful for her assistance, but regretted it when her family tried to move his injured body. The pain was too much to bear and he passed out from the agony.

  Corrina, as he came to learn her name, did her best to nurse him back to health over the next few days under the watchful eye of her father and brothers. She was very kind and sweet. Haydn realized that he had received more compassion from a stranger than he had from his so-called brethren. It made his decision to leave the Warriors that much easier, though he was concerned about his future. Farouk was right about being called a failure. Being a Celestial Warrior was a demanding job, but when an angel left their ranks, they were seen as weak by the other angels. He hated the thought of being seen as a disappointment for standing up for what he believed, but he was short on options.

  When he was healed enough not to raise suspicion, he returned to Heaven to announce that he was leaving the Celestial Warriors for personal reasons. He was questioned by Merrin and Aeries to confirm if he had thought through his decision. However, it was General Tabbris’ mocking of him that confirmed his decision wholeheartedly. Tabbris, who had abandoned his post in Hell and had crawled back to Heaven in disgrace, had the nerve to tell him that he was grateful that Haydn had determined his worthlessness before it had become a problem. The General wished him luck finding a job that better suited his personality, whatever that meant.

  Looking back, he should have called every one of them out to Michael and exposed their arrogance to the other angels, but at the time, he hadn’t had the strength. He wondered if he was capable of doing such a thing now that he was the Angel of Distrust. He laughed when he thought about his title. He hadn’t been imposing enough to intimidate Anjali, what made him think that he was strong enough to take on the Celestial Warriors?

  He closed his eyes and relaxed his aching body, waiting for it to slowly knit itself back together. He was helpless to defend himself, which was problematic if Demyan decided to come back for him. It was doubtful that Demyan wanted to kill him since he had every opportunity to take his head since he hadn’t heard him coming. He had been too messed up to hear anything. At the time, all he could think about was Lu Zhi and how Anjali had finally helped him deal with some of his grief. She had forgiven him and reminded him that Lu Zhi’s fate wasn’t his fault. The villagers had failed her, which was the very reason for his existence. They had failed to protect her and rescue her. He merely tempted them to do the right thing, but they embraced their guilt instead of their bravery and preferred to kill each other rather than the pirates who had taken her. It felt good to be released from some of his guilt and breathe again, at least in a metaphorical sense since his lung was punctured.

  Focusing on his current dilemma, he thought about all the reasons why Demyan would take Anjali, but only one reason came to mind—he wanted to kill her. He wasn’t sure why Demyan had chosen to break her neck and throw her over his shoulder instead of killing her on the spot, but no good would come of it. Demyan wasn’t a Rogue yet since he still wielded a Celestial Sword, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t on the path of evil.

  He wondered what would cause Demyan to turn against the warriors? He had always been the model warrior under First Lieutenant Marcus’ command. It seemed much had changed since he left the fold.

  Willing his body to heal faster, he painfully pulled his leg up and grabbed two of his knives. Though he was conflicted about his feelings for Anjali, he knew that something had changed between them. For the first time in centuries, he felt a little more like himself. He owed it to her and himself to figure out if she could actually help him. He couldn’t very well do that if she were dead. He would have pitied Demyan if Anjali had been free from her bonds. Instead, he feared how his master would handle the Rogue.

  Chapter 11

  Alazar and Balthazar arrived in Santa Blanca, along with Calin, Derick and Liam. Tristan had requested to come with them, but Alazar told him that he was needed to guard the Throne Room. In reality, he wanted Tristan to rest. Even injured, Tristan was a formidable opponent, as long as he saw his attacker coming for him. Alazar was still pissed that Demyan had blindsided them. He planned to repay the broken neck and retaliate with a sound thrashing...courtesy of Balthazar.

  From the corner of his eye, he looked at Liam who was a little shaky. His injuries were starting to heal, but his confidence was off. He didn’t like being ambushed either. He stood a little closer to Calin and seemed off balance, but Alazar didn’t have the luxury of sending him home. He needed every able-bodied fighter to stand against Demyan, or at least spot his attacker this time.

  “Why are we here?” Calin asked as he surveyed the main road through town. “We’ve already established that Anjali was here but is long gone. What can we gain by being here?”

  Alazar crossed his arms and squinted up at the setting sun. “Anjali came here for a reason. We know that she was hunting Celaeno, but Anjali doesn’t know that the Harpy is dead. I have faith that if she finds a way to free herself, she will come back here to finish the job. Tristan will let us know if she returns to Hell. By having someone in town, we have all our bases covered. Balthazar and I are going to fly around the area again and search for her. Something tells me that she isn't far. Don’t ask me how I know that, but I believe it to be true,” he explained.

  Derick nodded. “I feel it too. This town has a weird vibe, but there’s more to it. It’s as if the people know something’s wrong. Look at the way they’re avoiding eye contact and trying to get indoors,” he said as they tried to walk inconspicuously through the dimly lit streets.

  Calin pointed to the signs posted on the sides of the buildings. “Look at all the “Missing” posters. A lot of people have been taken from here.”

  Alazar nodded. “We think Celaeno was responsible for the abductions. Things should quiet down now that she’s dead,” he replied.

  Liam tried to shake his head in disagreement, but winced. “Look at that poster. It has yesterday’s date on it. How could the Harpy have taken someone else when it was supposedly dead?”

  Balthazar and Alazar both stopped in their tracks. “Maybe the Harpy was working with someone else?” Balthazar suggested.

  Alazar shrugged. “It’s possible, but you didn’t see the carnage at the farmhouse. The gates were locked, but it’s possible that someone escaped during the fighting. The Harpies weren’t known for their social skills, so I can’t imagine Celaeno working with someone, other than Hades. They tried to eat almost everyone they came into contact with.” Alazar wrinkled his nose when he thought about how close he had come to being eaten alive. Had it not been for Hades, he could
have ended up like the mortals at the farm.

  Balthazar frowned. “What if it’s Hades? He told you that he would dispatch Vaugh, yet he never returned to Hell. What if he’s been deceiving us this entire time? What if he was really commanding the Harpy and is now trying to finish whatever mission Celaeno was tasked with?” Balthazar suggested. His disdain for Hades was clear on his face.

  Alazar considered his theory for a moment. Hades was an asshole and typically had his own objectives while running Hell, but he wasn’t sure if he was a double agent. Then again, he had fooled the entire group of “Greek Gods” into believing that he was on their side.

  “He was broken up over the death of his Harpy, but then again, maybe he didn’t really kill her. Maybe it was just a trick to get us off Celaeno’s trail. I was bound when he killed her and couldn’t access my power, so I can’t confirm if she was really dead. He moved the body before I was released from the bonds,” he said, growing more suspicious by the second.

  “Well, something has these people freaking out,” Calin said as he watched two men get out of their trucks to yell at each other in the middle of the intersection. They were swearing at each other as one of the men pulled a young woman from the passenger seat of the truck and told her it was time to go home.

  “Those guys are arguing over how best to protect that woman,” Calin said, reaching for his guns.

  Derick put his hand out to stop Calin. “Settle down. If they see your guns and realize we’re strangers, they will assume that we’re the kidnappers and try to hang us in the square.”

  Calin raised his eyebrow at Derick’s surprisingly astute observation, and dropped his hands to his sides and covered his guns with his black leather jacket.

  Liam leaned against a street sign and looked at Alazar. “I don’t know much about Hades, but if he’s missing and is connected to the Harpy, then I say we question him. Calin, and I can check out the compound again for any scents or other clues that might help us find Hades. After that, we’ll join up with Derick and continue to search the town. If we work as a team, we can narrow down Hades’ possible hiding spots. The two of you should focus on Anjali. I’ve felt how strong Demyan is and seen how ruthless he can be. If he’s hunting Anjali, then she’ll need the two of you to protect her,” he said.

  Alazar saw Liam frown when he said Anjali’s name. He often forgot how much her Nachtghuls loved her since they were always so busy pretending not to care about her in front of Lucifer and Hades. Looking at all three men, he could see their worry and concern for her. It must have taken a lot for Liam to admit that he wasn’t strong enough to fight Demyan.

  Agreeing to Liam’s plan, Alazar wished them well and headed off with Balthazar to find a nice shadowy spot to unleash their wings and take to the air.

  “Do you really think Hades is a part of this?” Balthazar asked once they were airborne and soaring through the fluffy white clouds in the warm night air.

  “I don’t know. He looked like he was going to weep when Celaeno was laying on the ground. I didn’t think Hades was capable of real emotions anymore, but he seemed sincere. Then again, he lied to Lucifer for years when he was torturing Anjali in the Realms. I believe that he is capable of many things; deception is certainly one of his many talents. He told Tristan and me to keep quiet about his role in killing Celaeno. It’s possible that he wanted us silenced while he carried out his plans,” Alazar said as he considered all the wicked things Hades had done over the years.

  “We probably should have killed him centuries ago when we had the chance,” Balthazar said, banking right and heading for the shoreline.

  Alazar nodded, but then stopped himself. He personally had spared Hades’ life after a particularly nasty fight about Serena. Alazar had threatened to kill Hades if he didn’t force Serena to stop punishing the Predznak. Hades refused and claimed Serena was the only guarantee he had that the Predznak would behave themselves without their master. Alazar had allowed his power to rise and came close to tempting Hades to take his own life, but decided that Hades would never commit suicide. He would commit murder, treason or any number of other crimes, but Hades believed he was doing the right thing at any given moment and would never feel guilty enough to kill himself. Instead, Alazar had punched him in the throat and left him gasping on the floor of the Throne Room.

  “We would have been killed if we had attacked Hades back then. If he is plotting against Heaven, Hell or Anjali, we need to make sure there is plenty of proof before we take his head,” Alazar said.

  “That sounds like a plan to me,” Balthazar said just before he dropped beneath the clouds to see the dark landscape below.

  Alazar wished he knew what was happening to Anjali. He didn’t like the uncertainty of the situation. She could handle herself against Haydn, if her previous experiences with the Predznak were anything to go by, but he worried about Demyan hurting her. Without her power, she would be no match for a Celestial Warrior, though he recalled an incident from her early years. Gabriel had briefly mentioned an incident with a Celestial Warrior, but was adamant that it had been a freak storm, or possibly a residual storm created by Anjali’s power that had caused the warrior’s untimely demise. Having seen Anjali bound during the New York battle with the Germanic gods, he knew that her power was no match for the glowing blue manacles. He prayed that she was able to hold out long enough for someone to find her.

  ∞

  Anjali watched Demyan pace through the jungle for a while before finally ignoring him. She refused to wait for him to summon the nerve to kill her.

  She struggled for what seemed like hours before she finally gave up. The knife inside her pocket was out of reach because Demyan had been smart enough to loop the vines through her bound hands to keep her from moving. The warrior certainly knew how to tie a decent knot.

  Tired and starving, she thought about how best to negotiate for her freedom, but she was distracted by the memory of Viktor flying through the air and slamming into the tree. She prayed that he was still alive. Kissing him had confirmed that she felt something for him, even if she couldn’t remember him. She had to find a way to convince him to give up on his pursuit of forgetting her. She no longer cared that he was handing her over to an enemy. She would kill anyone stupid enough to make a deal with one of her lovers, but she was worried about the deal itself. What if it was a trick? Most beings weren’t powerful enough to make a mortal forget their entire life. Then again, most beings weren’t powerful enough to make a mortal remember everything spanning centuries of their lives. She wondered how he was able to remember her across multiple lifetimes.

  The image of Viktor laying on the ground plagued her mind until the punishing power of the bonds twisted it into a kind of terror. Her fear got the better of her and she began to cry at the thought of losing Viktor. She tried to remember their lives together, but it was useless. She could feel the love that existed inside her heart for him. It was strong and pure, though different from her feelings for the other men in her life. She loved each of them for different reasons. Viktor was a mystery to her, yet she felt cherished by him. Viktor’s treatment of her was far from endearing, but he was a man torn apart by love. She didn’t believe that he was truly this cruel, conflicted man deep down. His desperation had changed him and made him cold and bitter. If only she could remember the real Viktor and their lives together, she knew she could mend the break in his heart.

  “Are you crying?” Demyan shouted in disbelief.

  “No,” she sniffled, trying to hide her fear. She didn’t want him believing that he had broken her.

  He flew to the branch below her and stared at her. “Why are you crying?” he asked, confused by what should seem like normal behavior for someone in her predicament.

  Biting back a sob, she was mad that she couldn’t wipe away her tears before he saw them. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired and hungry. Maybe I’m upset that you tried to kill Haydn and the mortal I was with. Maybe I don’t like being tied to a tree. M
aybe I just want to go home and go to bed. You have no idea what I’ve dealt with in the past few days because you’re too wrapped up in your little revenge fantasy,” she said, trying to control her emotional outburst before she sounded like a lunatic.

  “You don’t get to cry, not now, not after you refused to cry or acknowledge what you did. You killed Farouk and didn’t show a single ounce of remorse or regret,” he shouted.

  She prepared to be backhanded again, but Demyan didn’t move.

  “You have a lot of rage over something that happened in 210,000 B.C.E.,” she said without thinking.

  He frowned at the date and tilted his head. She immediately regretted acknowledging the date of the incident, though she had no clue how she was able to pull the date out of thin air.

  “How do you know when it happened?” he asked suspiciously.

  “How have you not made peace with an incident from centuries ago that was ruled an accident?” she asked, deflecting his question.

  He put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You remember, don’t you?” he growled.

  Her expression must have indicated that she did indeed remember what happened, because the blue flame suddenly lit up the dimness around her. She stared Demyan in the eye, unwilling to show him fear in her final moments.

  She felt the heat of the sword graze her arm, but she didn’t feel the impact; instead, she found herself falling onto the branch he was standing on. Unable to grab hold of the branch, she tumbled through the smaller branches and leaves until she hit the ground with a thud.