Armand smiled peaceably. “Sounds great.” he said, and glanced at Giselle. “I feel like a walk anyway.”
Giselle caught her breath as his gaze stayed on her, but she could not meet his eyes, and let them trail back to their intertwined fingers. Why would he tease her like this? He knew–he must know–how it hurt her he remembered nothing. Looking at him was like staring at a black hole. She knew something beautiful and wonderful had been there before, but now it was just a gaping, sucking nothingness. Worse than a simple loss. Loss would have meant she could grieve and move on. Loss meant she could work on forgetting his face. Loss meant she didn’t throw away the blessings of her sword. Loss meant he was gone.
This was looking at his face and knowing he wasn’t there. This was him saying the wrong name when he looked at her. This was the same hand holding hers, the same eyes looking on her face, but lacking the recognition of everything they had been through. It was love. It was familiarity, but something… something wasn’t right! It wasn’t all of him.
The door slammed, and Giselle started, realizing Samantha and Eli had exited the car. She glanced at Armand. He smiled, and her heart seized. How could she had longed for his loss, or categorized it as better than this. She was divine. She was an Angel! If anyone should have faith in love it should be her. “Armand…”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He squeezed her hand and nodded, then slipped out of the car. Giselle pressed her hand to her lips, keeping herself from crying out. She’d practically wished for him to die. How could she?
The door on her side opened, and Armand held out his hand. “Come on, Ada. Let’s take a walk.”
At first, she couldn’t bring herself to take his hand, not because she didn’t want it, but because she wanted it badly. He waited so sweetly though, that soon it seemed a greater insult not to accept his hand than to touch him when she had recently thought of his death. He pulled her up, shut the door, and finally slid his hand around her waist. She couldn’t speak, still caught up in guilt.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He touched his forehead to her hair, nuzzling as he had done for years. Her heart surged with mixed anguish and joy. He was so close and yet so far away.
“I–” She choked, cleared her throat, and tried again. “I just–” She tamped down tears and looked away. This was too much. What if she’d lost him forever? “I don’t know who you are.”
“It’s okay.” Armand smiled. “I don’t either.”
“How can you be calm about it?” Giselle asked. “You don’t remember anything and yet you don’t worry? You don’t fear?”
“Now, I didn’t say that.”
Armand pulled her closer as they ambled down the frontage road. Cars zipped by without pause or thought, and Giselle almost wished to dive into one. She couldn’t see an end to this discomfort, this awkwardness. Unconsciously, she leaned into him, shivering.
He rubbed his hand along her arm. “I worry about you. You’re still having trouble with the cold, and it must be ninety degrees. I worry about that look on your face like you’ve witnessed the world end. I fear you’ll regret staying with me.” He kicked a stone. “I fear you’ll leave.”
“You don’t even know my name.” She blinked away tears. “It isn’t Ada any more.”
“Isn’t it?” He paused, reached over and wiped her cheek. “When did we get new names?”
“When Gabriel blessed us,” she said. “After we died.”
He thought for a moment, then nodded and drew her close, arms wrapping around her back and just under the base of her wings. “I see. I suppose, technically, you are still Giselle, since you still have the wings.”
“I suppose.”
“But I’m Manas.” He brushed back a curl, smiling. “Is it a terrible a name?”
“No!” Giselle grabbed for his hand, shivering. “I just…I just remember vividly…”
He tilted his head, and finally nodded. “Was it cold, then?”
“I…I think one of my toes fell off.” She bowed her head. “We’d been running for so long when the Damned came for us.”
“But they didn’t get us. We escaped?”
“Yes.” She clung to him. He smelled similar to how he always had. Myrrh and olives. Suddenly she recalled what Samantha had suggested. She swallowed. No. He didn’t know her. Not really. She started to explain their ascension again, describe it to see if he recalled anything, but a laugh stopped them both in their tracks.
“Oh goody. I found you.”
Giselle jumped, Armand frowning as he looked around her shoulder.
“A Damned,” he squeezed her hand. “That’s what they’re called, right?”
Giselle turned and looked. Behind them was a lithe youth, jittering with energy, with the stark white skin and jet black horns of a Damned. She frowned. How had it found them?
The Damned answered her question before she could voice it. “I mean, he said you’d be here, but I never expected to actually find you! I thought he was pulling my chain.” He cackled, jumping from foot to foot. “Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! I’ve heard Angels give a huge rush when you rip out their throats.”
Snarling, Giselle pushed Armand behind her and drew her sword. “First you’ve got to beat them,” she said.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” the Damned said, his hands trembling. “Let’s go!”
Giselle let the Damned make the first charge. It was always better to get a handle on one’s opponent. As she spread out her wings in preparation to take off and avoid his initial attack, she realized Armand had no way to get out of the way. That was fine. “Hold on.” She sheathed the sword and grabbed him around the waist.
The Damned was faster than she’d anticipated. If she recalled her training correctly, they started out fast and vicious, like Savannah cats, and slowly grew in power and prestige until they found themselves at the lion’s helm. She was prepared, and popped a squat before launching up. Manas whooped.
The Damned headed for a wall, and leapt up, cackling. Giselle lofted higher, still holding Armand in front of her, sword at her hip.
“Giselle.” Armand gasped. The Damned was running up the wall, propelling himself up the drywall of the building using his claws and strength. As she glanced, he planted four limbs and sprung out, facing them thirty feet in the air.
“See? I can fly too!”
Her wings were made for strength, not agility, and for a sinking moment, Giselle was certain he would land the attack. Armand folded up his legs, arms bracing on hers, and kicked both feet out straight into the Damned’s face. He careened back and slammed into the ground.
Giselle let out a breath. “Thanks, can I put you on the roof?”
“Just watch the wall,” he said with a grin. “You’ve got this, love.”
She blinked, but didn’t let the expression shake her focus, and set him gently on the roof, then drew her sword. “Damned, I hereby release you of your debt to hell, and free the souls within–”
“Shut up and fight!” the Damned screamed, and charged the wall again. Giselle set her sword, determined to defend her post and end the battle.
Before the Damned could make it even five feet off the ground, a whip of fire wrapped around his ankle and tugged him to the ground. He fell, screaming. “What the fuck?”
“Looks like you got a whelp nipping at your wings, Giselle,” Eli said, striding behind Samantha with the origin of the fire in his right hand. “Mind if we take a look?”
Giselle frowned. “I had it.”
“We know,” Samantha said, waving. The Damned was bound and gagged with a soft yellow glow. “We’re wondering how he found us. Sheer luck is fine. Someone knowing where we’re headed, not so much.”
Giselle frowned, glancing up to be sure Armand was all right. He waved. She waved back. While the Damned was still around, she wasn’t taking chances, and left him there as she spoke to Eli. “He said ‘he told me you would be here’. You’re right, we might have a problem.” She took a few steps backward, lettin
g Samantha work. She sure didn’t want to be caught in any strange soul manipulation. She moved back again, out of sight of Eli and Samantha, just to be sure. A pair of arms clamped around her wings and mouth. With hardly a moment to fear the marble pale arms, power overwhelmed her, and Giselle passed out.
* * * *
“Shit.” Eli growled. There weren’t many people who could direct a Damned, much less find them. “He who?”
“I’ll never tell!” The Damned cried out, and then began to snicker.
Eli rolled his eyes. Young Damned were worse than teenagers.
“I’ve always wanted to say that,” the man cackled out.
Samantha pursed her lips. “You’ve said it. Who is he?”
“Fuck lady, for being the latest big-ol-scary Inbetweener, you’re sure stupid. Who else is gonna tell me a pinpoint location of a former Damned?”
Eli stood up straight. “Lucifer.” He looked up at Giselle to see her reaction, then caught his breath. “Samantha. Where’s Giselle?”
“She…” Samantha frowned as Armand rounded the building. “I thought she went to get Armand.”
Not good. “How’d you get down?” Eli asked as Armand jogged up to them. “Where’s Giselle?”
The other man stopped dead. “I climbed down the roof onto the fire escape,” he said, thumbing back. “She was just right here.”
Eli growled, turned, and stomped a clawed foot onto the other Damned, leaning his whole weight onto the claws until the man squealed in pain. What was it with women getting kidnapped around him? “I’m going to give you one chance. Just one. Where is she? Why kidnap her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” The man wheezed. “He just said go here and you’ll find an Angel.”
“That’s it?” Samantha demanded. “The Angel? Not the Damned, the Inbetweener, or the Mortal?”
“He didn’t even mention you guys. Just the Angel.” He groaned. “Get your claws off me, traitor!”
“Shut up. You’re not even up to five thousand souls.” Eli growled. Damnit. He’d enjoyed the Angel’s company, and now she was more than likely dead, or as good as. “What the hell is he getting at?”
“He was bait,” Samantha shook her head. “A distraction. Even Giselle would have had no problem taking him down. They knew we wouldn’t just kill him and be done with it, we’d talk to him.”
Working his jaw, Eli nodded. “And that gave him an opening to come in and kidnap her. But why?”
Samantha chewed on a lip. “Could it have something to do with Cyrene?”
“Could, but I don’t know how.” Eli glanced at Armand. “You’re awfully calm about this.” He well remembered the panic of looking for Samantha, but the other man only stood by silently.
Armand was grim. “What can I do? Can you two go get her?”
Samantha and Eli glanced at each other, tight faced. “No.” Eli finally said. “The Lucifer could have her anywhere, and even together we can’t challenge him.”
“Then I suppose we’ll just have to trust her, won’t we?” Armand frowned. “She’ll come back. She has to.”
* * * *
Giselle woke to cold and darkness. Gasping, she started against her bindings which held her fast, glowing softly in response to her struggle. Soul bindings. Giselle stared around. Her wings emanated soft light, enough to make out she was in an extremely plain room with only herself and a wooden chair.
Her feet were not bound. There was no door. She was in nothing more than a concrete box. It might have been terrifying if she needed air, blessedly, she did not. Still, the layout of the room was troubling. No door meant they had teleported in. Whoever ‘they’ comprised of beside her. Teleportation meant someone of Eli’s level or greater had grabbed her. But who?
Her first thought was Cyrene. That couldn’t be right. There had been no laughter, no gloating, not even a battle. Cyrene’s hallmark was not subtlety. Whoever had done this had done is as quickly and quietly as possible. Who? And for heaven’s sake, why?
She licked her lips. “I am awake. Show yourself.”
“I’m well aware of your consciousness, Angel,” a voice returned, smooth as honey and twice as sweet. The air in her cell shifted, and a man stood in front of her, illuminated by a small, intense dram of fire which danced above one claw. “Believe me.” He smirked. “I do not come at your call.”
She bit back a cry. The Damned standing before her was small in stature, but she could feel the press of souls around him like a shroud. Every inch of him was compressed greed, ambition, selfishness, the rope of his soul winding for age upon age, tied back to the beginning, back to the fallen star, and it shook her to the core. “Lucifer.”
“The Lucifer.” The man tossed the fire up and into a lamp above her head. Giselle couldn’t help herself, she ducked and flinched. He rolled his eyes. “Come on. If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead. Honestly, show a little backbone.”
“Why am I here?” she whispered. She’d been kidnapped by the Lucifer. Of all the beings. “What do you want with me?”
“Right down to business. Much better.” The Lucifer nodded and began a slow walk around in the cramped space. “I’ll have you know it wasn’t my intention to kidnap you at first. It just became necessary.”
Lips set in a grim line, Giselle braced herself as he made his way around her shoulder.
“You see, I have a problem, and her name is Cyrene. She’s been rather volatile the last few months, and has ceased communication with us.” With a curious air, he stroked her wings for a moment.
“So?” Giselle worked hard. Don’t twitch, don’t twitch… “Take care of her.”
“Normally we would. Normally, she doesn’t go four weeks over twenty-five thousand souls before leaking.”
“You mean you know about that?”
“Of course we do. Your files only note it because way back in the seventeen hundreds she killed a big one and went mad for a bit. The Angels wanted to kill her. Huge hunt, the whole nine yards. She escaped because of the leak. You couldn’t find her. First you were looking for a fifty thousand, then a forty-five, then a…ah, you get the idea.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t there, but it was apparently pretty funny.”
“Why does it happen?” she asked. “A safety measure?”
The Lucifer shrugged. “Maybe one Lucifer made way back when she was Damned, maybe a curse from her original damning. The point is for some reason, the leak isn’t happening this time. It’s been six months and the souls I gave her are still quite attached. I was fine when she was jacking up Angels and Mortals and going after troublesome Inbetweeners, but she’s started going after my kind. I decided I should lend a hand in her capture.”
“How generous.”
“I like to think of it as practical.” He studied his nails. “Anyway, I contacted your Messiah to talk about taking her down. He said it was being looked into, and I should talk to your Fore, as you were most recently assigned to Cyrene. When I asked your Fore, he refused to illuminate why you weren’t around but finally–most grudgingly–admitted you had gone rogue, and if we could get you back, it would make him most accommodating.” He smiled blandly. “Essentially, you’ve been kidnapped by the Lucifer at the behest of your former Fore.”
Giselle stared, breathless. “To do what? I won’t go back to the fold until Armand is with me.”
“A boy? Really?” The Lucifer chuckled. A chair appeared, and then slid silently across the floor. He sat down across from her, leaning forward with burning eyes. “Your Fore seemed to think you’d gone mad. Let’s hear your real reason for desertion. It’s incredibly rare, you know. The Damned, not as rare–once every twenty-five, thirty years? But Angels? Desertion without Damnation is notable.”
“We are bound.” Giselle replied stubbornly. What did she care if she told Lucifer something he should not hear? Her own kind had betrayed her more thoroughly than she ever could have betrayed them! “Our wings were blessed in the same moment, and they tricked us into a trap in order
to kill him and break our bond.”
The Lucifer raised his eyebrows, then pulled his lips to the side, looking about to burst out laughing. “Damn, lady, and you think we’re bad?”
“It was for our own good!” Giselle snapped before checking herself. Why was she defending them again? She took a breath, bowed her head. “Or so they said. He wanted to marry me.”
“Ah ha, and the whole Angelic curse. I can see why they’d be worried. Repeating the biggest embarrassment of their race.” He leaned back. “Okay. I’ll give you a few options. A choice of damnations, if you will.”
Giselle frowned. Those were never kind words, but at least she might be able to choose her hell.
“Choice one.” The Lucifer held up a finger. “We do just as your Fore asked. You ship back, I get my access to Angelic info on Cyrene.”
“No.”
“Patience, patience. You might find that the best option. Number two.” Another finger. “I raze your mind for every shred of information you’ve ever absorbed about Cyrene, remembered or not. I’ll be as careful as I can, but they don’t call it razing for nothing. Then I’ll dump you back with Eli and whatever that Inbetweener’s name is.”
“Samantha. Option three?”
Lucifer grinned. “You become my bait. You faced her once, right? And got away because of Samantha and Eli’s intervention?” Giselle nodded. “Good. She’s probably angry at you. Very angry.” His eyes burned. “You go out there. You stand and look her dead in the eye again. And you try and fight her. You might walk away, you might not. It depends on how quickly I can trap or kill her.”
Giselle swallowed. “Is that the end of the options?”
“Yep.” The Lucifer leaned back, an easy grin on his lips. “Up to you. Certain entrapment, certain madness, or the tiniest chance of going back to the man you gave up your blessings for?”
“I thought you said this was a choice of damnations,” she said.
“I like to give people a chance to fight,” he replied, chuckling. “Lends a certain chaos to the world, because the unexpected almost always happens. Can I take that as ‘option three’?”
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