“Wonderful piece, isn’t it?” the man said without turning. “When the one kept from the light devours the sun.”
Baron moved forward while Caelum followed suit. Azazel, the man in the dark suit, turned around and offered them a seat on the couch in front of his desk. “I have a busy day ahead of me, so let’s get going.”
The faithful assistant stood beside his superior, with his back straight and his face blank. Caelum refused the seat, however. He stood behind the luxurious couch and leaned forward with his hands spread on the back.
“Busy day? What’s cooking?”
“Judgment day,” Azazel replied. “The rapture. The apocalypse.”
“So the big farewell party, huh?” Caelum humored him. “Good bye cruel world, we'll be blowing you up.”
“Not exactly. Contrary to popular belief, we’re not exactly storing up nuclear weapons and man-eating viruses down here,” Azazel corrected him.
“Then, what is the big plan?” Caelum asked, feigning curiosity.
Azazel smiled at him. “I don’t see any reason why I should tell you.”
Caelum frowned. “Alright, tell me this then. Why do you need a beautiful angel down here? I doubt you want her for company while the world ends.”
“Ah, her.” Azazel drummed his fingers against his desk as if in deep thought. “She has an important role to play for us. To ensure that she will cooperate, we will be keeping her down here until the day comes.”
Caelum’s lip twitched. “‘Ensure that she will cooperate’? And what does that mean?”
“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours, Caelum. She’s in very good hands,” Azazel said in a condescending tone. “In fact, she is the guest of honor of a special someone.”
The words hit him hard and his eyes widened. Caelum’s hands gripped tight, balling into fists as he thought of what Azazel implied. “Let me see her,” he said through gritted teeth.
“No can do, pretty boy,” Azazel said. “You know the rules. You need an appointment to meet the king.”
“What are you going to do to her?” Caelum slammed his fists on the furniture. “She’s not what you want!”
“Actually, she’s exactly what we need,” Azazel told him with a smile. “And you brought her to us on a silver platter.”
“No!” Caelum argued. He jumped over the furniture and charged towards the leader of Hell, but before he could near the desk, something black shot into the side of his face, slicing his cheek.
Baron had his hand stretched out, looking at Caelum with his blank face. He reeled back his hand and had it fall to his side. “Please do not provoke me to use violence in the presence of my boss.”
I didn’t even see him move, Caelum thought, partly amused. He stood up straight, keeping his urges to himself, lest he would want to have his head sliced open by Baron. He adjusted his collar and said, “Apologies. But will you please tell me how I can make an appointment to meet the king and the princess.”
Azazel looked to him with mock amusement. “And what will this be about?”
“I’ll be that knight who saves the princess from the dragon,” Caelum claimed proudly. He tapped on the floor three times before suddenly reeling back and bounding forward. Baron had readied his attack, but Caelum ducked, hearing the dagger whiz over his head. Caelum circled around Baron and held his neck inside the crook of his arm. He brought his weight down, pulling Baron with him, and threw him against the floor. He spun around, bringing his foot against the other demon’s chest, pinning him to the floor. Baron grabbed his ankle with one hand and the back of his knee with the other. He lifted him up and spun him around. Caelum rolled to his side and gathered himself back to his feet.
A black blade sped towards him and he bent backward to avoid it. He let his weight pull him back down on the ground and did a somersault, jumping over the couch. With one kick, the couch was pushed against the desk. The leader of Hell didn’t even flinch; he sat back against his seat, allowing his assistant to fight.
“Really, Caelum. I knew you’d be different, but to fight with your own kind for the sake of an angel?” Azazel told him. “Talk about out of the box, huh? I sure choose my targets well.”
Caelum’s gaze turned in his direction, distracted long enough for Baron to send another flying blade at him. Instinctively, Caelum lifted his hand and caught the blade in mid-air. He rotated his shoulder and threw the blade back to its owner. Baron caught it easily between his two fingers.
“No, you didn’t,” Caelum replied to Azazel. He revealed two of Baron’s blade in his hands and charged forward. “You shouldn’t have taken what I had my eye on.”
Baron procured another set of daggers, but Caelum threw a blade aimed at Baron’s hand before sending the other at the leader of demons. Baron was quick to avoid the blade and sent another to the side, deflecting the one Caelum had thrown at the stoic figure of Azazel. Both blades clattered to the floor.
“You must be mistaken, Caelum,” Azazel said. “I am not talking about taking your precious angel as my wise choice of target.” He stood up from his chair, flicking his fingers together, and a thundering sound immediately followed.
Caelum turned around and saw the newly born demons spilling in from the staircase behind him. Nearly twenty demons came marching towards him with heavy feet, circling him and forcing him to move away from their leader. Caelum scoffed. “Is this really necessary?” He looked at each of the faces of the demons, devoted to the leader who’d opened the doors once they passed through the labyrinth.
“Quite, but not really,” Azazel said. “Mostly, it’s just for show. You’ve managed to step out of Hell without my permission before, but that’s only because I let you.”
“Let me?” Caelum repeated in sarcasm.
“Yes. Though the leash might extend as far as to cross over worlds, you’re still tied to me, my sweet child,” Azazel said. He walked towards him, two demons parting to allow him to enter the circle. “Ah, I forgot. You don’t remember.”
“Remember what?” Caelum took the bait.
“That I have your soul right in my pocket,” Azazel simply explained.
His bravado faltered, the mocking smile on his face melted away as the message hit him. “What?”
Azazel’s smile was as menacing as it was triumphant. “Don’t hurt that pretty head of yours; your memories won’t do you any good. But I might as well tell you.” He paused, watching the truth dawn on Caelum’s face before he said, “You sold your soul to me, Caelum. That’s why we’re right here, right now.”
Caelum froze. Demons were created when a human soul refused to be purified in the pit and crossed into the gate without being eaten by its guard. But making a contract with one would also damn one’s soul into Hell. I made a deal with Azazel? But what was it? The thought shocked the demon, who hung his head low, his lips tight. He had accepted long ago that he hadn’t been a decent human; therefore, he was sent to Hell upon his death. Now, he didn’t know what he was. What could have been so important for him to sell his own soul? The answers eluded him.
Fists shaking at his sides, he threw the thoughts away. What could have been important? I should focus on what is important now! he ordered himself, lifting his gaze to Azazel. Hatred and conviction filled it. “Take me to Ariel.”
“Persistence. I’ve always liked that about you.” He turned his back on Caelum. “I wonder how long you can persevere, though. Shall I test that?” As he said it, the demons charged at Caelum at the same time.
Caelum dodged to the side as the first reached to him. He curled his arm at the back of the demon’s neck and pushed him backward, toppling another one. The second threw a punch, but he grabbed her wrist and armpit and tossed her like a rag doll. He crouched forward, then stepped back, avoiding the kick another sent. Caelum spun around and sent his own leg against the demon’s back.
An arm wrapped around Caelum’s neck and a burly demon lifted him up, his toes barely touching the ground. He gripped the arm, trying to p
ull it forward, but to no avail. Caelum reeled his arm back and drove his elbow against the demon’s face once, then twice. The demon staggered back, loosening his hold on Caelum, dropping him back on the ground, arm still around his neck. Caelum pushed his feet, forcing the demon behind him to back up until he had pinned him against one of the windows. Caelum grabbed the arm again and pulled it off of him before dragging the burly demon around and across the rest that had come for him.
Stepping on the ledge, Caelum turned back to see Azazel watching him intently. Baron paced forward, aiming to assist the new demons in capturing him. I can’t win like this, Caelum concluded. He looked down and saw the entire kingdom of Hell beneath his feet. Somewhere out there was the doorway to the King of Hell’s cage where he would find Ariel. But he didn’t have time to search for it.
Arm stretched wide in a welcoming gesture, Caelum smiled and let one foot slip over the ledge. He fell hundreds of feet down.
Baron looked down but could see no trace of the demon who had willingly leaped off the tower. His eyes scanned the incompetent recruits that had failed to capture the one they needed before meeting Azazel's eyes. “Shall I go and fetch him, sir?”
Azazel’s eyes were thoughtful. He turned his back and studied the grand painting that decorated his office. “No need for that. I doubt he is ready anyway.” The leader of demons calculated their options, hoping that their allies on the other side would do their end of the task regarding a certain fallen angel.
In the world opposite the one Azazel led, Ramiel slowly opened his eyes to find the faint glow of his bindings. He knew immediately he was defeated. Ramiel slowly lifted his eyes to find himself kneeling in the presence of the archangel, Raphael, whose golden eyes looked down on him. Behind him was Daniel, waiting by the doors for an order.
Ramiel laughed at his own expense. “Guess this is checkmate, huh?
No one responded, as he’d expected. He tried to move his legs to stand only to discover that his feet were also bound. “So, are we doing this or not?” He glared at Raphael.
Raphael’s lips pulled to one side, smiling without humor. “Ramiel, how long has it been since your last visit?”
“Three centuries, roughly,” Ramiel answered simply.
“Was it worth it?” Raphael asked him. “To go against Michael and be cast down to the land of the mortals.”
“Yes, actually,” Ramiel said with a smile. “You have no idea what it’s like down there. Booze, greasy food, reality shows, sex. Things you, and the lot of you, could’ve known if you didn’t have a stick up your behind.”
“Do not speak to the archangel in such a way, fallen,” Daniel warned him.
“Daniel, it is fine,” Raphael said. “You may leave me with the prisoner.”
Daniel looked up at him warily, but he could not disobey. He took a step forward and bowed his head. Before he could reach the doors, Ramiel spoke.
“What, you don’t want your precious butler to find out what you and Michael have been cooking?”
The words made Daniel pause, curiosity tempting him. Raphael looked at him with concern. “You speak of such lies, Ramiel. Is this out of desperation, or delusions?”
“Oh, please, Raphael. You know what I’m talking about,” Ramiel said. “I was the one who heard that prophecy personally.”
Raphael walked forward to face Ramiel. “That prophecy? It’s been so long, and so many prophecies have been spelled out for us. I don’t know which you mean.”
Ramiel gritted his teeth. “You know what I’m talking about. You are going to let—”
His words were cut off by Raphael’s blade piercing through his throat. Ramiel felt the burning in his skin and inside his throat that emanated from Raphael’s white blade. He looked up to the archangel, seeing his smile before he pulled the blade out of him. Daniel took a step forward, startled by the turn of events. He halted, however, watching the fallen angel slide to the floor, his soul’s light becoming faint.
“I do not tolerate lies in my presence, Daniel,” Raphael said, looking down on Ramiel. “The fallen one has spread enough of his. Please, take him away.”
Daniel looked at the dying body of Ramiel, his soul’s light flickering. An image flashed behind Daniel’s eyes and he felt an odd sense of revulsion at the sight. But he neared the dying body anyway. I must obey, he reminded himself, seeing the final light of Ramiel’s soul go out.
While Daniel pushed away his troubled thoughts, Mikaela tried to calm hers with the help of her scented candles. She flipped through the pages of her book for the nth time, reviewing things she might have missed. Only one ingredient was missing in her formula, and she hoped a certain someone had held up his end of the bargain. There’s always another way to get it, but I’d rather not.
As if destiny answered her prayer, she caught a glimpse of the fire in her scented candles flickering. Mikaela looked over to the light and felt the familiar cold chill of her visitor.
“I thought you’d never—” Mikaela stopped herself, seeing the condition of her guest as she turned from her chair. Caelum kneeled on her floor, gripping his shoulder, blood dripping from his limp arm. “What happened to you?”
“Escaped from being dog chow while trying to get you a present.” Caelum smiled, holding his palm out where the eternal fire from Hell came to life. Mikaela jumped to her cupboard for an empty jar, where Caelum transferred the flames.
“You really didn’t have to fight that beast just to get me this, did you?” she asked him, morbid guilt building up.
“No,” Caelum said. “It was already trying to take a bite at me before I even dipped my hand into the pit.”
Mikaela took his less wounded arm and threw it over her shoulder. She led the demon to the couch and let him lay down on it. “What happened?”
“I pissed off Hell.” Caelum grinned weakly. “I’m officially on their wanted list now.”
“And you just made me an accessory to your crimes,” Mikaela said. The witch stood up and collected a few items from her shelves and desk before returning to him. “Just when I got you a present.” She held out the maroon notebook he had given her. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the item.
Mikaela handed him the notebook and with a single hand, he turned the pages to see the decipherable writings, though still messy.
“That’s the best that I can do, so don’t complain.” Mikaela shot him a glance. She placed a variety of bottles and jars on the coffee table and knelt down beside him as Caelum flipped through the pages and found the lock of black hair tucked between. He placed the notebook on his stomach and picked up the lock of hair, lifting it to his eyes.
Now in the safety of the witch’s home, Caelum’s thoughts reverted back to Ariel. The idea of her being trapped inside the cage brought about the anger inside him. But he was powerless, a single demon against an entire army of them. Staring at the item in his hands, he knew in his heart what to do. His anger fueled his determination. Mikaela’s attention was arrested by the look on his face.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
His eyes found hers, green like her mother’s had been while his was hazel. He returned his gaze to the lock of hair. “I will return this to the owner, no matter what it takes,” he said, tucking the lock of hair back in the notebook.
Mikaela smiled at him, preparing the medicine to mend his wound. “Whatever you say, daddy dearest.”
Epilogue: The First Angel
Sorrow and torment was all she felt as she awoke. Her eyes fluttered open, her cheek stinging from the icy floor from which she lifted herself. Muffled screams and pleas echoed on the jagged rocks above her head, creating an aura of despair. Ariel studied herself, unwounded and unbound. She struggled to her feet only to find that the floor beneath her was marked by yet another Holy Seal. She was trapped once again.
“You have awakened,” a calm voice spoke quietly behind her. Ariel wheeled around, trying to see the captor. But everywhere she looked, nothing but ice, rocks, and sh
adows met her eyes. Then, she caught sight of the blue and white fire burning on a pyre to her left. The flames cast strange shadows on the ground around it as if the silhouettes were alive and dancing around. She followed their movements until they led her to a pair of pale bare feet standing in one corner.
“Where am I?” she asked the faceless stranger. Ariel tried to see his features, but he remained in the darkness, unmoving.
“Listen to them,” the stranger said instead. “Such pity to hear their screams while their souls are being purified of all sin. It is the price they must pay, however. Each and all of us trigger consequences for our actions, and our actions have led us to meet for the first time.”
Ariel set her jaw, knowing well the answer to her questions. But she asked them anyway for a poor hope of being wrong. “Where am I?”
The stranger moved. He took slow steps into the light, revealing the white robes that he wore. He answered her question just as he revealed his face to her. “You are in the most well-known cage of all of history, my dear Ariel. Do not fret, however. You will not be harmed.”
The angel lost her bravado, and cold seeped into her veins as she stared into his maliciously seductive golden eyes. The name she spoke came out in a whisper.
“Lucifer.”
Wavering Light
The Damned and the Pure Book 2
Copyright @ 2014 by J.D. Stonebridge. All Rights Reserved
Author: J.D. Stonebridge
Prologue: Confession
Cold seeped into her skin and ran through her veins. No matter how hard she hugged herself, every breath she took was like inhaling icicles into her lungs. The blue flames at the center of the cave did little to warm her, for everywhere she looked, sharp icy rocks surrounded her and her companion.
Her sapphire eyes lifted to his golden ones. He sat on one of the rocks near the fire, the flames casting shadows against the angles of his face. The paleness of his skin and hair made him look as if he were a statue made out of marble. Ariel never thought she would find herself in the presence of the infamous angel, and she never had imagined what he may look like. Evil? Deceitful? Both of those. But she never expected him to look so… Peaceful.
The Damned and The Pure Series: Books 1-4 (The Damned and The Pure Series Box Set) Page 21
