ANGEL MAGIC
Brooklyn O’Bannon
Angel Magic
Copyright @ 2012 by Brooklyn O’Bannon
This e-book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, theNames, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination andare not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
Warning
This e-book contains language that some may find objectionable. Store your e-books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.
Dedicated to my long-suffering family and to e-book lovers everywhere.
~Brooklyn O’Bannon
Chapter One
At sunset Kari stood, shivering and naked, in the middle of the summoning circle.
The special chalk circle had taken hours to prepare with intricate symbols and stones.
She took the special cleansing bath and stood naked in her living room, careful not to look at herself in the mirror on the wall of the adjoining dining room.
She lit the anointed candles, sprinkled the herbs like the spell directed and began the chant she’d memorized.
She sat in the center of the circle. “Kay fawn, kay fawn,” she chanted over and over while staring at the center candle. The room darkened until nothing but the dancing flame filled her vision and it seemed to flicker in time with her chant. As she chanted, her hearing became sensitive and picked up the faint sound of the flame. The world around her began spinning, but she and the flame were one, anchored in the center.
The icy sting of her feet tucked beneath her body told her she had been chanting for a long time. The discomfort pulled her away from her focus on the dancing flame. Her throat was dry and she paused in her chanting, wondering how long she’d been meditating, and whether anything was going to happen. She had a strange sensation in her ears, like when an airplane begins to descend. Pressure.
Maybe it was the spirit who would make her thin.
Something icy crept down her spine and she lurched with a surprised cry. Pain ripped through her abdomen as sharp ice stabbed through her. In panic, she tried to get away but she couldn’t. Long clawed fingers of bone pierced through her abdomen, she couldn’t breathe. Horrified, she watched blood, her blood, drip to the carpet in a crimson rain as the fingers raised her from the floor and she dangled, impaled above the floor. She tried to scream, but her voice was nothing but air. She tasted the copper tang of blood on her tongue.
“Let me go. I don’t want to be thin.” Her voice was harsh, her breathing ragged, tears streamed down her cheek.
She twisted to see what held her, despite the tearing pain in her abdomen. A giant skeleton, larger than any man, with dark eye sockets full of an amber glow, held her like a fish on a spear. Its bare teeth smiled at her pain, and it held her with no effort. It didn’t acknowledge her plea and as she watched, small dark shreds of flesh hanging on his face began to meld together.
Then there was a crash that sounded like breaking glass. With a cry she swiveled her head toward the sound, but it made her dizzy. All she could see was a translucent blur circling close. Icy air, like a blast from a freezer, wafted over her until the only warmth she felt was her own blood dripping down to her thighs. The giant hand clutched her tight in its fist as it swung her out of the way of the moving blur. The pain of the movement made her cry out and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see this new evil.
“No more,” she sobbed. “Let me go.” Then she realized that when the monster pulled his fingers out, she would bleed more. Could she make it to the phone?
“Help,” she cried, barely able to speak.
The glassy monster and the skeleton began fighting, jerking and twisting her through the air. In panic, she squeezed her eye shut, knowing she could be smashed into a wall at any moment as the two crashed and thundered through her mom’s living room.
Flashes of light burst through her closed lids. There was a series of sharp moves, the sound of something slicing through the air, heavy breathing from the fighter, though the skeleton was silent. Kari could no longer open her eyes to see what was happening.
Shivers racked through her and Kari was certain she was about to die.
Just as quickly as it began, she was free of the bony hand and she fell hard to the floor. Kari strained to see, opening her eyes wide, but all was black. The room was quiet. A cold hand touched her forehead and slid down, closing her sightless eyes.
“Sleep a while, little one,” a masculine voice crooned in a strange accent.
Funny, his hand doesn’t feel all bony now, was her last thought before she began to spin and spin into a dark, quiet vortex.
Kari awoke in her candle-lit living room. The candles had burned down a little. She was lying on the couch with grandma’s afghan thrown over her. Then she remembered her wounds. She flung back the blanket and searched her abdomen for the wounds, wondering if she could make it to the phone to call 911.
“Oh my God.” She stared at her body.
Her stomach was flat. She felt for the wounds, but saw only four small scratches on her lower belly and one up higher, under her breasts. Her perky breasts. She had ribs.
Slowly, she ran her hands over her body, registering their movement, that this was truly her body.
Her legs were slim and they looked longer. Her arms had no flab. She shook them extra hard to be sure.
She was thin—really thin. Size four kind of thin. She hadn’t been smaller than a size fourteen since sixth grade. A Summoning to be Thin, the spell from the old book, had worked.
Memories of the spell flooded her. She shivered, remembering the skeleton that had skewered her in her dream. It had enjoyed her pain. That had been no helpful spirit, it would have killed her. The whole incident seemed real, the blood running down her legs, the sensation of swinging through the air—she never dreamed movement and sensation like that. And there was another spirit, who had fought the skeleton…Maybe the anointing oils and herbs on the candles had made her hallucinate, because that had been unlike any nightmare she could remember. But it couldn’t have been real, because 7
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she had no wounds, nor was she covered in blood. She must have crawled to the couch and covered herself, though she couldn’t remember doing so.
If I’d known how intense the spell was going to be, I wouldn’t have done it. But somehow it worked.
I wonder how much I weigh now? She leapt off the couch and walked to the bathroom for a weigh in.
Her foot landed on something wet and cold. Ice. What is ice doing in the hallway?
There was a lot of it, big chunks scattered on the carpet leading to the bathroom.
I’m never doing magic again. Weird things happened…
The full length mirror on the outside of the bathroom door showed her reflection.
Kari forgot the ice and the weirdness when she saw her new body.
“It doesn’t even look like me,” she whispered as she stepped close to the mirror.
Her face was different, eyes larger, cheekbones noticeable and no double chin. Her hair seemed longer, the way it flowed over her slim shoulders. She traced her cheekbones with her finger tips and then tapped under her chin, where she used to have a roll of skin. Her neck seemed longer with pronounced collar bones. Her wrists, hands—they were different now, too. She had never been tall, but now she was delicate, with slim arms and legs, a tiny waist. Her breasts were round and high. She didn’t need underwire support anymore, light and lacy bras with thin straps would work.
Her fingers slid over her ribs, easy to find now, but she was pleased to see they were not sticking out. She wasn’t too thin. Her stomach was the best change. It was flat
, with even a little muscle definition. I’ll get a belly ring right away, she thought. She’d always envied girls who had belly rings that showed when they raised their arms, and now she would be one of those girls. She turned around and craned her neck to see her backside. Her butt was round and high. She stomped to see how much she jiggled...and the bathroom door swung open.
She jumped back from the door with a screech, the memory of the dream skeleton flooding her mind.
A man stood in her bathroom doorway, so tall his hair touched the top of the door jamb. He was nude except for a towel wound around the bronze skin of his groin, leaving his sculpted chest and abs bare. He had muscle everywhere—shoulders, arms, thighs. Long, silky, golden hair fell past his shoulders in waves. Light blue eyes, tilted upward just a little, framed in long dark lashes and straight dark brows, and focused on her naked form. His jaw line was square, cheek bones high, a straight nose and full, carved pink lips.
“You did this to me?” For some reason, she did not feel at all embarrassed about being nude in front of the beautiful, strange man. Everything seemed like a dream. She ran her fingers down her slim torso, and his eyes followed the movement. “You are Kay fawn?”
“No!” His eyes widened. “Don’t say that name. He could return if you call him.”
He moved so swiftly he was a blur. Suddenly he was in front of her, and Kari found herself facing his back, from which two huge white wings grew from his shoulders, arching down to his muscular calves.
“An Angel,” she said aloud, in awe. “You’re an Angel?”
He grunted.
She reached out one hand and touched the feathers...so, so silky soft. Beautiful. She ran both hands down his wings, careful not to ruffle them the wrong way. This must be another crazy dream.
He made a funny gasp and whirled around, leaving her with her hands in the air where his wings had been.
She stanched the impulse to run her hands down his sculptured chest. Barely.
“Don’t do that, little one.” His face was serious, and his eyes wide. “It has been long since I felt a woman’s touch, and you are beautiful and naked…”
She couldn’t help but look at him again, the sculptured torso, the hard stomach…
the hard, red knobbed cock that was now pushing out of the small towel covering him.
Suddenly this all seemed too real to be a dream. “Oh.”
“You stroked my wings.” He turned around and again showed her his wings. “You shouldn’t stroke them.” He readjusted his towel.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling mortified. “I didn’t know.”
“No, you couldn’t know. Angel’s wings are very sensitive to the touch.” He paused, still with his back turned. “You should dress. Then we can talk. I am called Rahmiel.”
“I’m Kari,” she said, then fled to her bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats, which promptly slid down her now slender hips.
Nothing would fit. She grinned. Nothing would fit.
She finally found a pair of tight leggings, years old, and a soft pink sweatshirt that hung down to mid thigh, like a mini dress.
Even with thick socks, her shoes were too loose. She tied them as tightly as she could. She would have to get some clothes right away. She picked up a pair of extra large black sweat pants. Maybe the Angel could wear them?
She was a little shocked at how matter of fact everything seemed. Maybe I’m still inshock from the impaler? Or, maybe this is still part of a dream? Because it certainly wasn’t a normal, everyday occurrence to have an angel in her house. Or to lose so many pounds in a couple hours.
Or maybe those herbs were stronger than I thought, and I’m still high.
She left her bedroom, expecting to find no angel, convinced this was all some herbal hallucination.
Rahmiel was tidying her living room, setting blown out candles on the coffee table and scrubbing out the chalk marks with his foot. He’s real. She handed him the pants, which he promptly pulled on. They fit his large frame like a glove, and ended just below his knees.
“We need to cleanse this area, so he isn’t drawn back here,” he explained.
“The skeleton thing was real?”
“Yes, a famine demon. Very deadly. No one has summoned him in years. He would have killed you, you know. Many years ago, he was responsible for entire tribes dying of starvation.”
“But you stopped him.” She saw now that he had a sword at his side, made of glass or crystal. It fit into a thin jeweled belt around his waist.
“Yes. Magic tied me to this demon in ancient times, because I once defeated him, and lived. So when you summoned him, I came, too.”
“I guess I summoned the wrong being. I thought it was a spirit that would help me become slim.” She sat down on the couch, suddenly feeling weak. What had she done?
“The bad ones thrive on deception. Let’s clean this room and then we can talk. I will need your help to try to find out where he will go next, Kari.”
Kari joined him in picking up the candles. She got wet wash cloths and they scrubbed out the chalk circle and markings. She found the broom and he swept up chunks of ice and herbs, while she followed with the vacuum.
“Where did all this ice come from?” she asked while she wound the vacuum cord up.
“That was from me. I was summoned suddenly, so I came encased in ice.” He grinned, showing white teeth and dimples. “But now we need to talk about where the demon might go next.”
Kari sat down on the recliner, now back in its usual place.
“I don’t know how to help you find that out,” she said.
“Well, he will be weak, so he’ll want easy prey. He has access to your life. When he had you impaled he saw your life, your family and friends. He will want the plump ones first, because he needs quick energy, without much hunting or fighting. Later on he won’t care, because he will have his strength back.”
Kari thought of her mom in a sudden burst of fear. But Mom was on a cruise right now, far away. She wouldn’t have been able to do the ritual if Mom had been here.
Plump women—her Dieter’s Delight meeting! She hadn’t been there for a month, but it was just blocks away. They met every Monday evening.
“I think I know.” She jumped out of the recliner, grabbed her purse, and rushed out the front door. Rahmiel followed.
Kari ran to her car, a tiny purple Geo. Rahmiel looked at her and raised his eye brows. There was no way he would fit in her tiny car.
“We’ll fly. You tell me where.”
She found herself circled by his hard arms right under her breasts. He pulled her back against his chest and she stood stiffly in his embrace. Everything seemed unreal—the nightmare, her new body, the gorgeous Angel who’s hard arms surrounded her.
Maybe it was all a dream.
His wings beat the air and they rose effortlessly. Kari couldn’t help but squeal and clutch his arms in panic. The cool evening air, the pull of his wings through the air—it was real.
“Relax, little one. I will not drop you.” He crooned into her ear. “Where to?”
I really should tell him to quit with the little one stuff. But it sounded so nice in his accent.
She pointed toward the Community Church and wondered what time it was.
Perhaps the meeting hadn’t even started and Rahmiel could catch the demon. But she recognized the cars parked outside on the street.
When they walked down the steps toward the lower level meeting room, Kari had an ominous feeling. It was too quiet. There was always chatter or a guest speaker on a microphone. She swallowed hard, her throat tight with apprehension.
They entered the room, Rahmiel first, his sword in hand, glowing with icy light.
“Stay back,” he said in a low voice. His arm came out, preventing her from entering the room, and he backed her toward the stairs. He turned to her, expression grave.
“We’re too late.”
She pushed past him in a panic. Her friends, members of the Dieter�
�s Delight Club, lay scattered on the floor, tiny and skeletal, their hollow faces stretched into grimaces of horror and pain. Kari recognized Mary Lou’s black velvet tunic. She had just lost fifty pounds, but needed to lose a hundred more. And Lisbet—only thirty pounds from her goal—her engagement ring had slipped off her skeletal finger. But the two carat square cut diamond resting nearby could only be Lisbet’s. Her pretty face was unrecognizable, with her skin stretched over bone and pulled into a grimace of pain and fear.
Kari heard a wailing sound and realized it came from her.
Rahmiel circled the room and then put his sword away. “He is not here.” Then he engulfed her in his arms and there was a rush of bright light and a queasy sensation of swift movement.
Chapter Two
Rahmiel held the crying girl on his lap and made crooning sounds of comfort, while he patted her back and hair.
The deaths were sad, but he was used to death. Causing death, avenging death, investigating death was what Guardian Angels did. Well, former Guardian Angel.
There was no use trying to find Kaphawn tonight. They had no way to track him, and using the girl as bait would have to come at a later time. She was distraught.
Kaphawn had probably already found a hiding place before daylight, using the memories of one of the women he’d killed.
And Rahmiel had plans for the girl.
It had been so long since he had held a woman in his arms. Even longer since he’d held a human woman. He’d spent eight thousand years encased in ice, without personal contact with anyone, as punishment for killing another Guardian. Eight thousand years alone in an ice wasteland, allowed no contact with Angeli or humans.
The Angeli had been merciful, though. He had to give them that. They had given him the ability to watch the Earth, to hear those he focused on. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t move. He was part of the ice world. There was nothing to do in the ice except watch and listen. Year after year he watched the Earth move from day to night and he would watch people wake, work, live and die. At first he sought out family, friends, old lovers. But as time went by the Angeli departed from the Earth and he watched human women and men. He envied them the warmth of the sun, a breeze lifting hair off hot shoulders, a cool drink of water, the taste of a well cooked leg of lamb, birds calling at sundown.
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