The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution

by Lisanne Valente

  “No, no, no, my lovely,” he hissed, “we are not quite ready for you to go there, not yet. Let us enjoy one another first.” Lucias flicked his forefinger, and a razor-like talon popped out. No longer caring if the drug he had blown on Mairi had taken effect, he ran his talon across her neck. Mairi could feel her life flowing from her body, as blood began to ooze from the cut in her neck.

  Her eyes became blurred, and her head pounded. She called to Adramelechk with her mind, her body’s transastralisation process having begun, and her blue mist had started to curl around her. She could feel the protective vibrations but Lucias yanked her from those soothing waves. Her mist began to dissipate, bouncing wildly around Eaton Square, with no walls to retain it, and without Mistdreamer’s control – leading it across to the Heavens or the Hells… her mist left. She needed to hold on to her mortal form and, somehow, in her drugged state, she realised this, her inward strength fighting to gain possession of her mistdream.

  Terror seized her heart. Appoloin wouldn’t know where she’d gone, and the very war the Mistdreamers had been assisting in preventing would happen, all because she wanted some fresh air.

  “Stop torturing yourself, my sweet. It is unnecessary. You are my princess, and I will treat you the right way.” He leered at her, and with a flick of his finger, he removed her dress, and she immediately began to shiver. The undergarments of the nineteenth century provided no protection against the cold night’s air.

  “Ah, now that’s as it should be,” he crowed. “My love in the desired outfit. Ready and waiting for her husband.”

  Mairi felt sick to her stomach. She struggled to her best ability but was restricted in all movement as Lucias’s hold upon her was like that of a vice, and the drug he had forced upon her had begun to take effect. She felt drowsy but was making a concerted effort to remain awake. She had to see where he was taking her. If she could recognise anything, it might be possible to contact Adramelechk and give him a clue as to her location.

  “Now, my precious bride, let us go and begin our ‘honeymoon’.” He paused for a second, before continuing: “Is that the correct word, my love, ‘honeymoon’? Is that not what you earth-bounds call the night of passion when you take a partner?”

  Mairi knew she was going to throw up. The smell from his breath was making her stomach roll and heave, but it was the only part of her that was able to move.

  “Let us not tarry, my dear. I have found the best location for us. It is just like Heaven, I think you will agree. After all, it is so special, nobody will know of our whereabouts.” As his mask of delight slipped, it was replaced by true evil, and he regarded her with sinister cruelty. His hatred for her was plain to see. Lost in his own contemplations, he was unaware that his eyes changed from black to fiery red, before returning to human-like eyes, but he had let his character be known, and Mairi knew she was in for the fight of her life.

  “Now, now, now, there’s no need to get excited. I know you are just dying with anticipation, but…” He growled, his teeth elongating, his nose twitching nervously and spraying spittle over her as he snarled, “We have an eternity for you to suffer.

  “Oh, yes, little sister,” he taunted, acknowledging their relationship, “ suffer you shall.”

  Lucias threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “I can hardly contain myself. The pleasure I have in store for you. Well, not exactly you, Mairi, but I, yes, I, shall enjoy every… single… moment… of… every single… delightfully wicked… bite I take of your body.”

  Mairi could feel tears about to fall and cursed mentally. What was it with the girls in her family, that when they got beyond mad, they began to cry? Was it just anger and frustration? Or was it the whole mistdreaming thing?

  Nothing leaked from her eyes, but Lucias hadn’t missed the welling of tears. “Oh, my darling, don’t cry. You weep tears of happiness, yes? Then let us not tarry. Let us get on with the good times.”

  He lowered his face to her lips, and her eyes widened in fear. He never removed his eyes from hers, and she could see his lust, but at the moment he was about to take her lips, his eyes became mocking.

  The pain hit her the moment he pierced her lower lip, and it was unlike anything she had felt before. She tried to pull away, but he continued to bite, his eyes remaining steadfastly looking at her, waiting for her reaction, and then she could no longer stop it from happening.

  She vomited all over him.

  If she could, she would have laughed herself silly, for it was a sight to behold. Her wicked demonic half brother stood holding on to her, and from his head to his neatly shorn hooves, he was covered in bright yellow vomit, mixed with her blood and the carrots she’d had for lunch. It ran down his face, into his eyes, trickling down to his mouth. But the piece de resistance was the drip that fell from the tip of his nose.

  Her eyes crinkled in merriment at his discomfort, but she abandoned any gleeful thoughts when she saw the torrent of raging fury spewing from his body. A black mist encompassed her, and she fought to see through it, but he blew on her again. It wasn’t just sulphur she smelled. His breath was mixed with her vomit and blood and a sweet smell that she didn’t recognise. As her eyes began to close, she realised he had drugged her again, only this time she couldn’t fight him any longer, and she was torn from reality into the depths of a dark and dangerous sleep.

  Her last thoughts as she spiralled downwards were those of her vomit dripping from her brother’s nose. It would always make her smile. But her heart cried out to Appoloin. She would never see him again, Lucias would see to that. All she could do in this mess she was caught up in, was to send him her love.

  He would hear her, she had no doubt, but would he find her? She could hope.

  *

  “Ambriel!” yelled Appoloin. “Ambriel, where are you?” Appoloin slammed the door to Poddingtons coffee shop behind him.

  “Hello there!” called Michael. “Would you care for a coffee, Appoloin?”

  Appoloin could not contain his anger, but the young man softened his soul. His anger abated, slightly, yet he still couldn’t find his voice. Instead, he shook his head, letting the barista know coffee was not his objective. He grabbed a chair settled against one of Poddingtons tables, and, folding his wings tightly into his back, he waited.

  He would wait forever, if need be.

  “I think the heavens on the fifth level heard you bark my name,” Ambriel groused from behind Appoloin, and in the fashion of Earth, his body formed a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt around his figure, while his magnificent wings retreated safely into his back.

  “Hide your tattoos, Appoloin. Fashion some clothing on yourself,” he scolded.

  “I don’t give two hoots who sees my back. I’ve been calling for you.”

  “Like I said, I heard you, along with every other Angel in the five layers of Heaven. And if we all heard you, there will be no doubt the Demons of Hell… all the way to their highest fifth echelon, will have heard you also and will know of your vexation.”

  “It’s because of them I had to speak with you,” Appoloin said frustratedly.

  Ambriel held up a hand, stopping him from speaking. “Michael,” he called over to the barista, “would you bring us a couple of cappuccinos, please?”

  “Straightaway,” he said obligingly.

  “I don’t want a fucking coffee!” Appoloin exploded.

  Ambriel’s eyes shifted to black. “If your heart is so involved in this, perhaps it is time for you to retreat, and we shall install a substitute Angel with Mairi.”

  “You won’t be able to place anyone with her if we don’t do something quickly.”

  Michael placed two cups before them on the table and, realising there was tension, made no comment, nodded his head, and returned to his coffee station.

  “What is it you have discovered?” asked Ambriel and picked up his coffee, about to take his first sip, that wonderful first sip.

  “They’ve found her.”

  “Her?” Amb
riel asked, his mind focussing only on the drink before him.

  “Ambriel!” Appoloin hissed. “They know where Mairi is.”

  Ambriel slammed his cup onto the table. “Why didn’t you tell us!” he shrieked.

  “I just did!” Appoloin shook his head in exasperation. “What are we going to do about it?”

  “I’ll call a meeting of the Infidelibus. We were going to meet soon. Xaphan has information to share, but I will arrange something as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, don’t dally here. Get back to her now, Appoloin, and don’t leave her unprotected again.”

  “She has Harviel and Ariel with her. She’s not unprotected.” Leaning forward, he grabbed Ambriel by the T-shirt, his eyes glaring menacingly. “Don’t threaten me again, about removing me from my wife’s side, Angel. She is mine, and no other Angel will ever protect her.”

  “Then perhaps instead of threatening me, you should be doing your job and go back to her. I will send a message when we can meet. Until then, go!” he ordered. Pushing his hands towards him but not touching, Appoloin waited for the rush of magic he knew was coming.

  It hit him like a tsunami, sending him orbiting down through the tiers of the Heavens, only giving him seconds to release his wings in time to prevent him crashing to the earth.

  Ambriel took a loving sip from his cup, and as he lowered it, his hand stopped midair. “Did he say ‘wife’?” He thumped his hand onto the table, careful to not spill any of his brew, and like an old curmudgeon, groaned aloud. “I do not bloody believe it!”

  Spreading his wings, the illusion of the earthly clothes in which he had covered himself vanished, and Ambriel cursed quietly—though not so quietly that Michael didn’t hear and let out a gasp, then a loud giggle—and flew as though all the demons from Hell were chasing him. He soared to the ceiling, which melted away, and the blue skies of the first level of the Heavens opened up as he rocketed through the clouds.

  *

  Appoloin took a seat on the mahogany framed sofa, brushing away lint from the peach-coloured upholstery and rearranging the array of cushions. “What do you think happened?” he asked of the two Angels who were already seated in the matching chairs on either side of the ornate fireplace.

  “I am talking, of course, about Mairi’s mistdreaming incident.”

  “Of course,” they said together.

  “I believe she has been compromised,” Harviel added.

  “I’m aware of that,” Appoloin answered irritatedly, “but have we any ideas by whom, or is that a rhetorical question and we all know it’s Lucias?”

  Ariel and Harviel remained silent, staring back at Appoloin, unsure of whether he wanted an answer. When it became obvious one was expected, they spoke, in unison, again.

  “Yes, it has to be him,” they muttered, and turned from Appoloin to look at each other. The whole scene could have been taken from a theatrical farce, if it wasn’t so serious.

  “You say ‘it has to be’, but it could be a number of others, Paschar included, or one of the demons second-class. What’s his name… ?” Appoloin searched his memory banks for the names of demons. “Oh, yes, Keethidus. It could be he, do you think?”

  Ariel and Harviel tittered behind their hands before replying.

  “I think that would be a ‘no’,” Ariel said, and Harviel nodded in agreement. “If it was he, we would have heard him.”

  “He’s too stupid, and that’s a fact,” added Harviel.

  Appoloin had considered this himself, but the sight of Mairi returning from mistdream with a light dusting of blue had made him feel very uneasy. He knew her mist was Adramelechk, a Throne Angel, one with a direct connection to the Almighty ruler. He was one of the uppermost Angels. Although not on the highest level as Archangels, he was in a tier alongside them, and as a Throne Angel, was considered to be as important because of his connection.

  Adramelechk was a perfectionist. He would never leave a trace of his mist on one with whom he ventured into other planes. Therefore, Appoloin had not been with Mairi when she was in danger, and neither had her mist.

  “I must ask you to double your efforts in your watch over Mairi. I believe we have been found by Paschar, and now are compromised. I have spoken with Ambriel and told him of this. He will give further orders.”

  “You will, of course, relay any orders necessary for us to put anything you require into action?” asked Harviel.

  “I suspect there is a lot more going on, and therefore, I will have to visit with the Infidelibus and hear of any other developments.”

  “Do you wish us to remain by her side at all times?” asked Ariel.

  “Obviously, she must have some privacy,” said Appoloin, his mind dispelling the appalling image of his very angry wife’s reaction upon discovery she had been watched by Angels as she showered or carried out her ablutions. He shuddered at the tirade he would be subjected to.

  “Obviously,” the two Angels repeated seriously, in unison.

  Appoloin became restless and rose from the sofa. Walking to the window, he gazed out onto Eaton Square. Two young boys were kicking a ball to each other, playing happily together. One of them, the smallest dark-headed rascal, kicked the ball and it hit a tree. He shouted to the other, and he could see them both giggling as they ran towards the wayward ball.

  He reluctantly dragged his eyes from the happy spectacle, returning to face his Angel guards again. He wished this matter was over. The worry for Mairi was eating at his insides. It was like no other pain he had ever encountered. He felt as though he was continually filled with anxiety, incapable of rest, always watching, listening for… for the slightest change.

  It was his duty. He’d had other duties before, but this time, it was more than that. He loved her. How could humans live daily with this emotion? It tore at your inners and ripped your heart and soul apart. Having discovered it, though, he would never let it go.

  These emotions were causing a complete contradiction within him, as though a bomb had been exploded in his heart. It was agony. It was stupendous.

  He loved and yet couldn’t understand why anyone would want to, and then he would see her, and all would be right in his world. The way she walked into a room and drew attention just by entering. She was completely unaware of her impact. The sway of her hips as she walked, the tilt of her head when she lifted it in question. The completion she provided when she lay in his arms.

  He fought the demons of love until it was impossible to ignore that which his heart demanded. It was so easy to understand when she was there beside him—no demons existed. The only demons were those of his anxious brain, and he knew all was right with the world as he held her. His life was whole again, his anxieties put aside. She was his life. She gave him a reason to live.

  He shook his head and centred his attention to the discussion Harviel and Ariel were sharing.

  “I apologise. I was woolgathering—is that the correct term, of this time?” he asked.

  “I believe it is so. We should look into its origins,” Harviel said pragmatically.

  “It probably has something to do with sheering sheep,” Ariel noted.

  “Maybe it has—”

  “This is not helping us decide on the course of action to take regarding my wife,” Appoloin interrupted.

  “Beg pardon, sire,” Ariel apologised. “I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Then why don’t you think out loud about Mairi, and what we have to do.”

  “Can you go with her to mistdream?” asked Harviel.

  ‘“She has her own protector when she crosses to the other worlds. Angels and other beings cannot see her, unless they are Mistdreamers also.”

  “So no chance of protecting her when she does her mistdreaming, is that what you are telling us?” Ariel pointed out the glaring truth and wished he could crawl into a tiny ball, somewhere far away, to avoid the dark looks now cast in his direction by Appoloin.

  “Why not ask Ambriel what happened when she transastralised and if he saw
anything out of the ordinary?” asked Harviel, pulling Appoloin’s attention to himself and away from Ariel.

  Appoloin’s angry eyes moved from one Angel to the other, but he considered the logic in Harviel’s words. He was set to discuss the merits of them when he met with Ambriel and was about to say “good idea”, when suddenly, he jerked his head towards the door, his eyes widening in fear.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  “Did we hear what, sire?” asked Ariel.

  Appoloin was clearly on edge, and began to stride across the room towards the Angels. He shook his head in query and, focussing at last on them, shouted, “Did you hear anything, at all, just now?”

  Harviel and Ariel were still considering the options Appoloin had given them and took a moment before responding.

  “Sorry,” said Ariel, “heard something? Like what?”

  “You mean like a door closing?” Harviel said, and now he was worried as well.

  “What, pray tell, is the point in having two guardian Angels if they cannot guard?”

  “Sire, in our defence, you asked us to concentrate and work out a course of action to protect Mairi, given her last mistdreaming episode.”

  “Does that mean you turn off your protecting radar or whatever it is you have to keep your wards safe? Isn’t it built into your psyches, as it is with me?”

  “Only to the one to which we are guardians, and that would be you, sire. Mairi is not our ward—she is yours, sire.” Ariel wanted his mouth to just stop opening.

  “Well, thank you kindly, Ariel, for reminding me of that,” Appoloin whispered eerily. “Now perhaps we could venture out of this room and find out what the noise was I heard and you two are incapable of hearing because you are my guardians!”

  Harviel passed a look of sympathy at Ariel. They had to get out of the room before Appoloin’s anger and fear exploded.

  “Come, sire,” he said kindly. “Let us go outside and see if, perhaps, one of the maids has left the house. That may put your mind at ease?”