by Cole, Tillie
“He was a priest,” Noa said, and the man’s face turned red with anger. “But he wasn’t an ordinary priest, was he?”
With a growl, the man ran and plowed her back into the cave wall, so hard that her knife dropped from her hand and her lungs were emptied of oxygen. “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” he said through clenched teeth, like he was fighting the need to rip her apart. Like he was somehow leashing his need to lose himself to the darkness running through his veins and tear her to pieces like he did the priest.
As she tried to catch her breath, Noa noticed movement from the mouth of the cave. She saw her sisters appear, weapons in hand. They were about to rush at the man in her defense, but Noa shook her head. Dinah stopped dead, arms out to signal to the others to stop.
Noa moved her finger and managed to turn the collar up higher, a piece of her succumbing to guilt as the man’s legs began to buckle under the pain. He screamed out in anger as he fought it. His hands tightened on her biceps, before he dropped his hold and staggered back, sinking to one knee as he fought to calm.
Noa caught her breath. “He was a Brethren priest. He was a fucking Brethren priest, and you were there to kill him in revenge, weren’t you?”
Despite the high voltage and his obvious pain, the man got to his feet and ran at her again. His face was contorted with anger, and she let him push her against the cave wall again. “What do you fucking know?” he growled. “What the fuck do you know of the Brethren?”
Noa lowered the collar’s voltage a fraction, and she laid her hand on his brand. The man stilled, and Noa could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “You wear the upturned cross. For being a sinner, a heretic.” Her fingertips brushed over his ruined skin. “You are evil, born of the devil, and the Brethren were there to drive out that evil, to cleanse you, to drive the wickedness from your blackened soul.”
The man inched his face closer, but he released one of her hands to slam his fist into the cave wall above her. Fragments of the stone fell to the floor around them like a shower of solid rain. “You’re one of them,” he said, his graveled voice dripping with hatred. “You’re fucking one of them!”
Noa took a deep breath, dropped the remote and ripped open the buttons of her shirt. “No, asshole, I’m one of you.” Noa heard her sisters talking in quiet whispers behind the man, but she didn’t look at them. Her focus was entirely on him.
Noa wore no bra, and her action had exposed her breasts and torso. But she watched as the man’s gaze dropped to her open shirt. And he froze. His hands on her arms kept her in place as his blue eyes moved over the pentagram on her torso … but what held him paralyzed was the upturned cross in the center of the brand.
The man still stared at her skin, which was marred black with the Coven’s brand. “My sisters and I were taken from the safety of our families by the Brethren.” His blue eyes flashed to hers, and he studied her face as if searching for any sign of deception. “We were deemed heretics.”
She swallowed and felt the swirl of anger beginning in her gut. “They told us we were born evil. They told us darkness ran in our veins.” The man’s head twitched over and over again, his eyes blinked in exaggerated movements. The collar buzzed, but he didn’t strike. He kept Noa locked in place, but he didn’t strike …
He was listening to her.
“They said we were evil witches.” Noa laughed, but there was no humor in her tone. “The devil’s whores.” Noa stopped her voice shaking from rage as she said, “And we were tried. For years we lived in what we knew as the Circle. The sixth circle of hell where heretics dwell. That’s what they told us, the Brethren. And we were tried and punished for turning from the faith, for being Satan’s agents on earth. For the sins of our forebearers.”
His breathing was stuttered, but he had lost the anger that contorted his beautiful features. He was listening closely, gaze drifting back and forth between her face and the brand on her torso.
“They called themselves the Witch Finders. The Brethren priests that specialized in ‘purging our souls of demons’ were called the Witch Finders, and their task in life was exorcising us. That’s it. Their entire life was dedicated to breaking us. Seven young girls. Until we got free.” Noa hated that her eyes filled with hot tears as she thought of those men—not men, demons. Demons disguised as holy men.
The man suddenly released Noa as if she carried the plague, and he stumbled away. His collar hummed, and his head twitched, but gone was the possessed man wanting to do nothing but kill. Confusion and shock flashed across his face instead.
“Now we find them,” Dinah said, walking closer to them. The man’s head whipped to Dinah and Noa’s sisters, who were poised and ready to fight the man in the mouth of the cave. “We track them down and free the children they are holding in their homes.”
The man’s eyebrows drew down in confusion. “The children?” he snapped, eyes twitching.
“Children they are personally exorcising. Like we were exorcised.” Dinah nodded to the other sisters. One by one they opened or removed their shirts. They wore bras and sports tops underneath, unlike Noa, but each of them revealed the identical brands to the man. He stared at them as the Coven’s pentagrams and Saint Peter’s crosses were displayed.
“They’re as strong as ever,” Noa said, and the man refocused on her. “In fact, the Brethren, they’re even stronger. There are many of them. So many …” Noa closed her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself, to swallow down the hellfire igniting in her soul. She covered her exposed breasts with her shirt and opened her eyes. “We knew, somewhere, there had to be more survivors like us. That we couldn’t have been the only ones the ‘holy purging’ was done to. And we couldn’t be the only ones who’d managed to get away from their clutches.” Noa looked at her sisters, who were re-dressing, then turned back to the man. “When we saw the Brethren brand on you last night, we had to take you.”
Noa approached the man. His head was still twitching. Noa had never met anyone like him. He looked on the brink of killing her, like whatever lived inside of him was constantly fighting for dominance. “What’s your name?”
The man stared at Noa. He swallowed hard, hesitated, but then rasped, “Diel.”
“Diel?”
His neck corded as if he was battling to keep it together. “Jegudiel,” he added.
“An archangel.” Dinah sent a subtle glance to Noa. Noa turned back to Diel as Dinah said, “Jegudiel is an archangel.”
Diel nodded, glancing down at his bloodied hands. His fingers flexed, then curled into fists. He backed away from Dinah, who edged closer. His nostrils flared. He held out his hand. “Get back!” he snarled.
“Did they give you that name?” Noa asked, unperturbed by the threat in his voice. When Diel’s focus moved back to her, his shoulders seemed to lose a fraction of their tension. Something warmed inside her chest at that observation.
Diel nodded. His gaze lowered to the remote in her hands. “Turn it down,” he growled.
“You need to breathe,” Noa said, and Diel’s eyes narrowed. She had watched him calm himself before. He had breathed deeply and beaten whatever it was that was pushing to be freed within him. “We’re not the enemy. We want what you want—”
“I want them fucking dead!” he suddenly roared, but just as he was about to pounce, the collar buzzed, and he started to breathe deeply, slowly, calmingly. There wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t pulled taut or a vein that wasn’t protruding. His chest rose and fell as his blue eyes slipped shut and he breathed.
Noa found herself following the rhythm of his inhales and exhales. She hadn’t realized she had edged closer to where he stood against the cave’s wall until his eyes opened, immediately fixing on her as if he had sensed her proximity. “I want them dead. We all do,” he said, voice graveled but anger curtailed.
“Who’s we?” Dinah said from behind them.
“Me and my brothers.”
Noa stopped breathing at those words and looked up
at Diel. His jaw was tight, as though he wasn’t used to admitting to anyone that he had any brothers to speak of. His inner torment was displayed on his face like a movie reel. But eventually, after raking his assessing eyes over each of the sisters, he said, “We are the Fallen.” He took a second’s pause. “They told us we were evil. They told us we were possessed by demons.” Noa’s breathing hitched when he lifted his hand and ran it down the center of his Saint Peter’s cross. “They told us that darkness ran in our veins.”
Shivers raced down Noa’s spine. Those were the words they had spoken to her Coven. Her sisters cast knowing looks to one another. They were the words belonging to one group of men, one secret sect that brought only evil and cruelty to the world.
“The Fallen?” Dinah inched closer to stand by Noa’s side. “You were named Jegudiel, and you call yourself and your brothers the Fallen.” Dinah studied him. “Fallen angels. The Brethren called you that?”
Diel nodded. His hands lifted to his hair, and he started pulling on the dark strands. The collar buzzed, indicating the increase in his pulse rate. But this time Noa was sure it was from the memories of whatever he and his brothers had gone through at the Brethren’s hands and not because of Noa and the rest of the Coven’s presence.
“Breathe,” Noa whispered, and Diel locked his blue eyes on her. Noa began breathing deeply, and warmth burst in her veins when he began to copy her. She saw Dinah casting her a strange look in her peripheral, but she ignored her sister and kept her attention on Diel. The buzzing of his collar gradually lessened, but she could see he was agitated. His cheeks twitched as he looked around the cave.
Noa stepped closer to him again. “We are the Coven.” Diel froze and slammed his eyes back to her. Noa lifted her shirt to show the pentagram but conceal her breasts. Diel studied their brand again. The dilating of his pupils left her breathless.
“Home,” he snarled and turned toward the mouth of the cave. “I need to get home.” His face began to redden. Noa didn’t understand why. “I need to get fucking home!”
Diel’s collar hummed, and he rocked on his feet. Noa saw the darkness that he had managed to briefly push away begin to take control. She didn’t know the trigger.
Diel pushed off the wall, and Dinah took hold of Noa’s arm and pulled her back. He started to pace—a bull in a ring about to attack. His head twitched and his muscles tensed once more. He was losing it. Noa wanted to jump in his path and help him breathe, help him calm.
Flashes of the past filled her head. The young boy in a collar tied to a leash. The boy who’d prowled and paced and snarled whenever she looked at him. The boy with death in his eyes and the heavy weight of the devil on his back.
Just like Diel. As Noa studied Diel now, she saw an older version of the boy on a leash. His eyes promised nothing but pain and a violent end for her.
The Brethren. They had done this to him. Just like they had fucked with all of them who stood alive, but ruined, in the cave.
“Gabriel …” he murmured. “I need Gabriel.”
Dinah squeezed Noa’s arm. Noa pulled away from Dinah and stood in Diel’s path. In a second he had grabbed her arms and slammed her against the wall. She didn’t look away from his savage gaze.
“Breathe,” Noa said, her voice barely above a whisper. Diel’s hands trembled as he held her, not from strain, she thought, but from uncontained rage. Only his rage wasn’t a warning sign for her to withdraw or be quiet, but rather a beacon call to the darkness trapped within her. She felt it move, a slithering snake awoken from a deep sleep.
He clasped her arms harder. Noa reached for his hair and yanked on it. His head reared back, and his teeth gritted together in fury. “Calm the fuck down!” Noa hissed, refusing to look away from the inferno in his eyes. “We’re one of you. You won’t hurt us.”
“Don’t,” he warned, but his skin flushed, and his pupils dilated as he looked at Noa. His nostrils flared, and she felt him harden against her leg. Her heartbeat stuttered at the feel, at the erratic rhythm of her own breath.
“Fight it,” she spat, pulling harder at his hair. His head shook, but Noa kept hold of him and said, “Fight it. Calm. Breathe.”
His eyes stayed locked on hers, and in that moment, time was suspended. It was just she and Diel and the twin darknesses that lived in them both. Noa took in deep breaths, and to her shock, Diel began to follow her pattern. The grip on her arms slackened, and Noa let her hands drift from his messy black hair to fall on his neck, over the cold metal of the collar.
Diel hissed as her fingers ran over its edge, grazing his red and ruined skin. She felt the buzz of electricity vibrate under her fingertips. Her stomach turned, and something flickered in her chest, then traveled in small bursts of light through to the marrow of her bones.
“Gabriel.” A voice came from behind them. But Noa was locked on Diel’s stare and the hot, charged air between them. Diel pressed closer to Noa, and if possible, he was even harder than before. “Gabriel,” the voice said again. Diel’s head twitched. “Gabriel. Who is this Gabriel and how do I contact him?” He snapped his head to the side. Breathless, Noa turned to Dinah, who was watching her with concerned eyes.
“He’s my brother,” Diel said, his voice raspy once more—the sound of his temporary control over whatever stirred within him. “Our leader.”
“You have a number for this leader?” Dinah pushed. Diel looked tormented, then reeled off a number from memory. Dinah hesitated, then looked at Noa. “I need to call him.” She cast a worried glance at Diel, to his hands still on Noa’s arms.
“Then go,” Noa said. Apparently understanding that Noa felt safe enough for her to leave, Dinah nodded, then headed out of the cave. Noa met the worried eyes of the rest of her sisters and nodded to them that she was okay. Diel broke away and stumbled back. His hands were back in his hair, yanking at the roots.
“Diel—”
“Drug me,” he said through clenched teeth, face red. “Drug me when you move me. When we meet my brothers.” He backed away until he was in the cage. He gripped the bars. “Lock the fucking door.”
“Wait—”
“Lock the fucking door!” he roared. Noa quickly moved to the cage and locked him inside. Something that looked like relief flashed across his beautiful face as he sank back into the shadows of the cell, out of her sight. Then he went quiet. For several minutes Diel was silent, until he moved back into the light, that sinister smile on his full lips once again.
“Noa.”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a gut warning to be on her guard. He was back. Diel’s inner darkness, the one who needed the collar, was back.
“Come closer,” he said, taunting her once more. “I want to see you.”
Noa turned on her heel and walked out of the cave. Dinah was coming down the tunnel. She walked past Noa, holding a phone, and went straight to Diel. Noa followed. “Speak. He wants to know you’re okay.”
The cell phone was on speaker. A voice said, “Diel? Are you there? Talk to me. Are you okay?”
“I’m here,” Diel said, but his eyes never moved from Noa, tracking her like prey. His sadistic grin widened, and shivers ran down her spine. “And I’ve got something you and our brothers are really going to want to see.”
Chapter 7
Gabriel lifted his head, and Maria exhaled at hearing Diel’s voice. “There? You satisfied?” the woman said again. Dinah. She’d said her name was Dinah. She had Diel and wanted to meet to give him back.
“Listen to me,” Gabriel said, his temperature rising with panic. “He’s dangerous. Diel … he …” Gabriel searched for the right words to explain his brother without telling her too much. “He has … issues. He could hurt you.”
“No shit. Like the fact he needs to wear an electric collar? And he wants to kill us all? Yeah, we got that.” Maria moved closer to the table and closed her eyes in worry. “But let’s just say, Gabriel, we have a lot more than Diel in common.”
Gabriel looke
d at Maria. The confusion on her face mirrored his own. “We do?” he asked tentatively.
“Where do you want to meet?” Dinah said, changing the subject. Maria moved to a map and pointed to a place they both knew would be safe. Protected land that they owned. Free from anyone’s eyes if this turned out to be a Brethren trap somehow.
“I’ve got a place that’s safe,” he said and set a time with Dinah. When he hung up, Gabriel ran his hands through his blond curls and tugged at the collar of his shirt. He exhaled a long breath, then nodded. “Diel’s alive. And he’s contained. We have to find solace in that.”
“How are you, Diel and she alike?” Maria mused, arms crossed over her chest as she paced in front of the fire. “How do she and the Fallen have anything in common?”
“We’re about to find out.” Gabriel moved to the door of the study. Maria followed, and when they stepped outside, the rest of the brothers were waiting on the grand staircase in the manor’s vast hallway.
“Someone has Diel, and we’re going to meet them at the family graveyard. Soon.” Gabriel met the eyes of Bara, Uriel, Raphael, Michael and Sela, who were all watching him in return.
“Someone ‘has’ him,” Uriel said. “How the fuck do you even get Diel without him tearing your head off first?”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel said. “They know about the collar.”
“There’s more than one of them?” Uriel asked.
“She said ‘we.’ There’s more than just her,” Gabriel explained.
“You think this is a trap?” Raphael asked.
“We spoke to Diel himself,” Maria said to her boyfriend. “He sounded okay, then said he has something he wants us to see.”
“Well, this is going to be fucking fun,” Bara said. “I’ve been bored out of my goddamn mind these past few days.”
