by Amanda Jones
Mara made a silent wish that B would leave her here and stay away, even though she knew that was futile. His love for her would drive him to find her, no matter the cost to himself. Mara hadn’t prayed since the night she’d been turned. With all the violence she had wrought in the first few decades of her immortal life, she’d always felt that she didn’t have the right to call on the heavens. Mara called on them now. She sent up a silent prayer to any angel that might be listening to watch over B and the fallen, to keep them safe from this newest threat from the bowels of Sheol. She knew that it was unlikely anyone was listening to the prayer of a vampire, but at this point she was willing to try anything.
Chapter Thirty Two
Bellerophon
Bellerophon flipped the giant tome he’d been reading shut with a bang. He heaved a sigh as he looked up at the high shelves of solid gold, stacked full of volumes that chronicled the history of the universe, both light and dark, since the beginning of time. The grand library of the heavenly castle, Heofon, was like a home to him. Long ago, he’d been a warrior angel, but had traded his fiery whip for ancient texts many centuries ago. He was now one of the premier scholars in the heavens, but for all of his ancient knowledge, he hadn’t yet found a way to locate his young charge, Leila. The battle at Halja castle — Satan’s home in the centre of the ice lake of Sheol — had been brutal. Leila had not returned with the heavenly forces. She had been Bellerophon’s charge, his responsibility, and he failed her. The very least he could do was return her body and soul to the heavens, freeing her from an eternity trapped in the abyss of souls guarded by Thanatos, the embodiment of Death, and a true monster. Bellerophon’s head dropped. He had failed her in battle, and he was failing her now. He’d been through hundreds of volumes of satanic lore and had found nothing of any use. Weeks of research had garnered no success. His frustration boiled over and he threw out his arm, sending the heavy tome to the floor with a crash. There was a rustle of feathers as the other studious angels turned towards the unusual commotion. Bellerophon took a deep breath and made a motion of apology for the disruption.
He leaned his elbows on the golden table and dropped his head into his hands. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind to the prayers that streamed up to the heavens on a constant basis. Instead of listening to the prayers of mortals, he sought out the prayers of the demon realm. Every angel had the ability to listen to the prayers of the dark — infrequent as they were. After he lost Leila, he listened to those few prayers on a regular basis, hoping for a glimmer of her whereabouts. For a while there was only silence, but suddenly he felt the pull of a single mind connecting to his.
The prayer he heard was a simple one — a request to guard and keep safe the friends of a lone vampire. Her tone was desperate; her mind radiated pain and despair. Bellerophon started as he heard the names of those she wished to have protected echoing through his mind. He knew those names; they belonged to his former heavenly brethren. Bataryal, Yetarel, Azazel, Baliel, Samael, and the vampire Sergei. Every one of those names belonged to a friend of his daughter, Katia, and her husband, Lucifer. Bellerophon breathed a sigh of relief that his daughter’s name was not included in the list of those that needed protection. He’d visited her and her husband in their well-warded castle in Prague many times over the past few weeks, developing a much overdue relationship with his daughter. The last time he’d seen them they’d been happily ensconced in their home, their friends having returned to the safe haven in order to research their new status amongst the immortals. Nobody, not even the heavenly angels, knew what was in store for the fallen now that they’d received a pardon from Heofon. Lucifer had regained his wings, and the others had been released from the service of Satan. They were no longer connected to Sheol, but they weren’t connected to the heavens either. They were living in a new world with new rules.
As the prayer continued to echo through his mind he was overwhelmed with sadness. Keir, his own son, was the object of this woman’s fear. His life had been a series of tragic events, culminating in the loss of his soul. Thanatos, the keeper of the abyss of souls, had forced a blackened soul into his son’s body, turning him into an instrument of evil for Satan. Bellerophon had yet to find a solution to save his son.
Shoving himself back from the table, Bellerophon stood and stalked out of the grand library, his shoes echoing off the marble floors. He kept a lock on the vampire’s prayer with part of his mind as he reached out telepathically to his angelic brother, Michael. They’d worked together in their last battle with the forces of darkness, and Michael would be more than willing to go up against Satan’s minions again given the chance.
Michael, my brother, the fallen need our help.
He continued his walk through the halls as he waited for a response from the other angel. The sunlight that streamed through the multitude of stained glass windows bounced off the pure white marble of the hall creating rainbows everywhere. Ordinarily Bellerophon would have taken the time to marvel at the beauty of the universe, but on this trip through Heofon he was on a mission. He felt a slight tickle in his mind as he walked, a sign that Michael was about to respond.
Is it Lucifer? Does this have something to do with your daughter?
The concern in Michael’s message warmed Bellerophon’s heart. He was typically a cold warrior, but since the last battle and the loss of Leila, Michael had softened slightly to the plight of the fallen. Perhaps seeing his former soldiers for the first time in centuries had reminded him of how close they’d all been in their heavenly heyday.
No, Katia and Lucifer are well. I’ve connected to a prayer from a vampire that is close to the others. They’re in imminent danger from my son.
Bellerophon saw the bright golden light of the sun shining onto the marble up ahead. He was nearing the take-off and landing pad.
I see. So Satan has followed through on his threat to use your son against the fallen. Have you got a location from this vampire’s prayer?
Bellerophon strengthened his connection to the vampire’s prayer, following the line of thought through the spider’s web of telepathic communication that floated through the air. Her mind was strong; they’d have no trouble following her thoughts down to her location.
Yes, she’s got a very strong mind. Join me at the launch pad and I’ll share the thread with you.
He exited the long marble hallway into the glowing sun of the semi-circular marble balcony. Angels came and went in blinding flashes of light as they went about their business in the clear blue sky. The sun shone like gold. Heofon truly was the most beautiful place in all the realms. The shining domes and turrets of the pure white castle reflected the light of the sun, moon, and stars. At night, the sky looked like a midnight black blanket of velvet decorated with millions of tiny diamonds.
A burst of light pulsed beside him, and Bellerophon turned towards his friend as Michael’s form was revealed.
“Thank you for your help, Michael,” Bellerophon said, clapping him on the back in greeting.
“You know all you need to do is ask and I’m here,” Michael said solemnly. “Particularly if it means avenging Leila’s death by hurting those in the service of Satan.”
Bellerophon nodded sadly. “I fear I’ve not yet been able to find a way of freeing her soul from the abyss.”
Michael reached out and laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder in comfort. “I have faith that you’ll find a way. In the meantime, how can we help the others?”
Bellerophon nodded. “The vampire, Mara, is being held captive by my son. She fears that the fallen will stage an ill-fated rescue. A trap has been set to hold the fallen by dark magic. If we get there in time, we may be able to counter the spell with light magic, allowing the fallen to free her from my son’s hold.”
“Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” Michael said with authority.
The two angels walked towards the edge of the balcony that looked out over the tops of the clouds below. Bellerophon raised his hand and plac
ed it on the top of Michael’s head. He closed his eyes and concentrated on that thread of thought that would lead them to Mara. As his mental grasp on the thread grew stronger, he pushed the image telepathically towards his connection to Michael. He felt a tingle as his friend caught hold of the thread, now they would both be able to follow it down to the human realm.
The angels opened their eyes and nodded in readiness. They stepped to the very edge of the balcony, spreading their wings wide, the breeze ruffling through their feathers. They jumped together, free-falling for several seconds, the wind whistling past their ears before spreading their wings and arresting their fall. The streak of light from their take-off slowly faded from the sky as they made their way down to the earth below.
Chapter Thirty Three
Bataryal
B snuck along the tall hedges that lined the long driveway of the mansion. Dark magic was at play here; the sky around the house was dark as night even though it was the middle of the afternoon. B wondered what the neighbors must think. Then again, knowing who he was up against, the spell was only visible to those of the otherworld. Humans probably had no idea that there was anything out of the ordinary happening in the midst of their quiet world of manicured lawns.
It had been simple for B to find his way back here. The landmarks he passed on his excruciating crawl through town were burned into his memory. As he got closer to the house, he saw the window he’d jumped through had been boarded up. Dammit! He’d hoped to sneak back in the way he snuck out. B blew out a frustrated breath and slinked along the flowerbed that ran the entire way around the house. A whistle made him jump. He spun in the direction of the noise to find Sergei and Sam hiding in the shadow of a bush about ten feet away. B rolled his eyes and waved them over. The two men tumbled and dodged through shadows before arriving at B’s side.
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” B hissed in annoyance.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “I think we can all agree that this is a trap. There’s no way we were going to let you go alone.”
B sighed. “Of course, it’s a trap. There’s no way Keir would be stupid enough to stay in the same place where I was held hostage if he didn’t have something planned.”
“We figured you could use some backup.” Sergei piped in.
“I’m going in alone. I’m willing to risk anything to save Mara, but you guys don’t need to walk into this with me,” B said, shaking his head. “This is my fight; not yours.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Sam said forcefully. “We’re family and you’re not doing this without us.”
“I’m not talking you guys out of this, am I?” B asked.
“Nope,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Sergei, you stay out here as a lookout. We need someone on the outside in case things go ass backwards. B can scale the trellis and go in from above; I’ll sneak around back and go in on the ground floor.”
“If we split up, one of us might be able to avoid the traps that are set for us,” B said, nodding in agreement.
“All right, let’s do this,” Sam said, nodding at Sergei who moved to melt into the shadows behind him.
B mouthed a silent thank you to Sam as he reached up and grabbed hold of the trellis, starting on his climb to the upper floors.
* * * *
Samael
Sam snuck below the boarded-up window and continued on around the corner of the house. Making as little noise as possible, Sam passed under several windows. The lights in the lower floor of the house appeared to all be off. Odds were that the trap was somewhere on the main floor. If he could be a distraction long enough for B to get to Mara, it would all be worth it. It was wonderful that two of his friends had found love. Luc was living a happy life with his new wife Katia. And here was B, the most unlikely of them all, risking his life for the woman he loved. Sam sighed quietly. There was a reason he’d sent B up to the top floors. He figured the trap would be in the most accessible part of the house — downstairs. If anyone was going to get caught, it would be Sam. B had a chance to be happy with Mara, Sam’s curse made that happiness impossible. He could never truly love a woman, or rather; he could love a woman but never touch her. What woman would want to be with a man that would rip out her soul should their skin touch? He knew it was possible to love someone and not touch them, but it wouldn’t be fair to deny a woman that basic physical display of love. Sam thought it was best for him to be in the most direct danger here; he had the least to lose.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Sam continued along the side of the house toward a darkened doorway. He cupped his hands and peered in through the glass on the top half of the door. He had found the side door to the kitchen. The dark room appeared empty, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his lock-picking kit. This was as good a place as any to infiltrate the home. Sam slid the pick and the tension wrench into the keyhole and began to apply pressure, turning the lock until it clicked open. Stashing his tools, Sam turned the knob quietly and the door opened silently on well-oiled hinges. With a deep breath, he slid into the house like a shadow, shutting the door quietly behind himself. Sam shrugged out of his jacket, not wanting the leather to squeak and give away his location. He set it on the kitchen counter, reached into the pocket and slid out his butterfly knife. Sam crept through the kitchen, testing each floorboard as he moved. He emerged into a hallway, poking his upper body around the corner to check for unwanted company.
The lower floor of the house appeared devoid of any other being. The only sound Sam heard was the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock coming from down the hallway. He slinked around the corner, keeping close to the wall in the shadow of the stairway that led to the second floor. A whizzing noise broke through the quiet; a sharp pain pricked Sam’s chest. He looked down in shock. The feathers from the butt of a dart stuck out through the material of his tee shirt. He reached down and yanked it out just as a burning began spreading from the wound. Sam sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the dart to the floor where it clattered.
Tinkling female laughter broke the silence as Nyx stepped into view, materializing from the darkness.
“Hello, lover,” she said with a saccharine smile.
Sam tried to make his body move to attack her, but his feet were rooted to the floor. Movement was impossible; with each attempt the agonizing burning moved faster throughout his body. His veins felt like they were being eaten alive by acid and he was melting from the inside out. He wanted to scream, to vocalize his pain in any way possible, but his vocal chords were frozen.
“You’re looking a bit under the weather, sugar,” Nyx said as she sashayed closer, stroking his cheek tenderly with the back of her hand.
Even through his pain, Sam wanted to shrink from her touch. If anything proved the old saying that beauty was only skin deep, it was Nyx. He could hear her talking to him as pain flooded through his body, but the words had ceased making sense. It was as though she were speaking to him through a tunnel from very far away. Her face blurred in front of him, her blond beauty replaced by the face of a demon. Blood streaked down her face and horns protruded from her forehead. Her eyes glowed with hell fires lit from within. He knew what this was — hellhound blood. It was Sam’s last conscious thought before he succumbed to the hallucinations that became his world.
* * * *
Bataryal
On the second story of the mansion, B was busy jimmying open a window. His foot slipped off the narrow trellis and he reached forward quickly to steady himself on the window frame.
“Shit.” He muttered, his heart beating double-time.
The fall wouldn’t have killed him. But the injuries he could have sustained would have hampered a second attempt to climb this trellis, which clearly wasn’t designed to hold the weight of a fully-grown angel. B grabbed onto the sill with one hand as he dug around in his pocket for his knife. Flicking it open, he jammed the blade under the window and pushed down on the hilt. It slid open a crack, allowing B to jam the knife farther in. There wa
s just enough room for him to get his fingers under the jamb and shove it up, giving him space to climb through the opening. He flipped his knife closed and climbed onto the sill when a scream cut through the house. Mara. Stealth went out the window. B leapt through the opening and charged through the bedroom he found himself in, throwing open the door that lead to the second floor hallway. Sounds of a fight erupted from a room down the hall. B charged towards the door and kicked it open, the wood snapping and hanging off its hinges. A man was on top of Mara; his teeth were locked on her throat as he groped her. She fought for all she was worth, kicking her legs and scratching at his face with her fingernails.
B felt his blood boil. He charged at Mara’s attacker, ripping him off her body and throwing him against the wall with all the force he could muster. The plaster crumbled as the body smashed into it. B raced to Mara’s side. Her eyes were wild and glowed bright red; her fangs had descended and she was in full attack mode, fighting B as he tried to hold her and calm her. Blood ran freely from her neck, a chunk of skin was missing where her assailant had bitten her, the tissue having ripped away when B had attacked. B grabbed a bed sheet and tore a strip off, clamping it down on her wound to staunch the flow until her healing ability could kick in. He grabbed her gently by the hair, forcing her head around so she could look in his eyes.
