by Willa Blair
Sean had tried various ways to test Darach’s sixth sense when it came to demons and anything bad happening. One of the traits of an immortal was to be able to know when someone was in trouble. How it happened he didn’t know, probably something programmed into his body when Michael turned him into an executioner. Without it, countless innocent lives could be lost, and if he couldn’t sense something being wrong, then he could become a victim again. And he wouldn’t be able to guard Abby from Angus.
“Highlander?”
Darach brought his mind back from what might happen and to what he remembered.
“I was fine. I didnae have any problems following a sulfuric trail into the alley. I remember there was one demon and then two more showed up. The first one attacked and then I was hit in the back of the thigh with a blade and the arm, the other thigh, and finally the chest.”
Sean sat in the chair next to the bed. “You’ve fought more than one demon before so it has to be something about the attack that caused you to go down that easily.”
“I ken that, but what?”
The halfling leaned forward. “Do you remember anything about the weapons, were you able to see any of them?”
Darach thought long and hard. The only one he’d even had a brief glimpse of was the one the first demon carried. What had it look like?
“It was about eight inches long from the hilt to the tip. The hilt was a scrolled mass of connected figures. I don’t know what kind. The blade was serrated, with maybe a red tip?”
“Red tip?” Sean’s brows drew together.
“I think so. Pretty much everything that happened that night is a bit fuzzy.”
Sean stood up and started pacing the room. A second later, his eyes started glowing a bright red.
“I don’t believe it.”
“Dinnae believe what? Do ye know what happened to me?”
The halfling stopped mid-stride, turned, and faced Darach. “I could be wrong, but if I’m not mistaken, the blade sounds like one I’ve heard other demons talk about. It’s refuted to have magical properties, or rather black magick properties. I’m not sure where it’s supposed to have originated from, but some say Lucifer fashioned the sword from the bones of a dead angel and a sorceress. I have heard of only the one weapon like that, but I suppose there could be others.”
“So that might explain why I be helpless when it comes to knowing what I’ve ken for a lifetime?”
Sean took to pacing again, as Darach sat up and then moved off the bed.
“Yes, unless Michael can remove the spell that seems to be blocking your senses.”
“At least now there might be a way to fix what’s wrong.”
The halfling grinned. “I hope so, ’cause you need to fix what’s wrong with you and Abby also.”
“I agree, and will do so after I talk with Michael.
“I don’t suppose I could talk to him?” Sean’s tone was even, but Darach picked up on the tamped down excitement.
“I can ask him.”
“Great. Now, what are your plans for tonight?”
“To hunt Angus.” Was the halfling daft to even ask?
“Look, don’t take this wrong, but you’re a liability to me, yourself, and the countless potential victims out there.”
Darach wanted to rail at Sean, but he knew he was right. He could get someone killed.
“Do ye have any ideas where to look for Angus?”
“I’m going to look up an old buddy of mine. He use to hang out with some of the more evil species of demons, but now he’s more or less a gentle creature.”
“What happened?”
Sean’s laughter held little mirth. “He fell in love.”
“Ye just had to tell me that.”
“You asked.” This time his chuckle was real. “I’ll let you know when I know something.”
“All right, I guess since I can’t hunt, I might as well go back to the hospital, and from there I’ll give Michael a call.”
“You do that, and keep me posted on whether or not he’s willing to talk to me.”
“Aye, I will.”
****
Darach teleported back into the hospital room and donned the gown he’d stashed under the pillow. He also retrieved his cell phone. After reclining on the bed, he tapped the icon for Michael and waited for the call to go through. He didn’t often contact the archangel this way—he usually yelled for him, but the revelations of the past twenty-four hours had pretty much drained him. If Michael couldn’t help him, then he was dead as an immortal. And if he couldn’t protect Abby then why on earth would he want to shackle her to him in marriage?
“I assume you have a very good reason for contacting me tonight, MacRath.”
“Aye, I do.”
Michael’s tone wasn’t overly friendly but Darach feared it would get down right angry when he disclosed what had happened.
“Then please spit it out. I was in the middle of watching angel football and they—”
“I understand ye might want to watch your winged friends play, but dammit, Michael this is urgent.”
The silence on the other end of the phone was so great Darach could have heard angel wings fluttering.
“Since you normally do not take your life in hand by cursing at me, I will let it slide. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“When I was attacked by the demons, somehow one of them or all of them, I don’t know, used a magical dagger. Or at least that’s what Sean believes. He did some tests, and it seems that my abilities of being able to detect evil or anything bad happening pertaining to crimes is gone. He believes it was an ancient dagger enchanted by a spell that used the bones of an angel and a—”
In less than a tick of a heartbeat, Darach found himself in the presence of Michael.
“What do you mean the bones of an angel?” The archangel’s roar caused papers to fly off his desk, and clouds resting outside the window actually moved away with the force of his breath.
“Dinnae yell at me, Michael. That is what Sean said. He’d only heard of a dagger like that, he’s never seen it. He figured it to be a myth in the demon realm.”
Michael raised his hand and all the papers rested in neatly stacked piles once again. He sat back down in his chair and then just stared at Darach.
Did the archangel know something about the dagger? For a moment, it looked as if Michael would be sick.
“I didn’t believe it to be true. Melissande was one of the humblest angels in Heaven. She was gracious, loving, and so innocent when it came to mortals.”
Darach remained silent as Michael stared at something he couldn’t see.
“She wanted to help mankind. Mel believed that all mortals deserved a second chance. She was under my tutelage. I told her to forget about changing what she couldn’t. We argued when she would not listen. She left that day, supposedly to pay a visit to an ailing elderly woman who would soon be joining us here.”
The archangel’s sigh ruffled the papers, but they stayed on the wooden surface.
“I never saw her again. That was centuries ago. I thought she might have gone over to the demon realm—not because she’d changed sides, but because her culpability would not allow her to know the difference between good and evil.”
“Ye think it was this angel’s bones that was used to help bind the magick spell?”
“I’m not sure. The dagger was like you said, a myth, something we here felt was a way to try to frighten anyone with the goal of being good.” Michael stood up and began to pace, his footsteps trailed a musical sound as they struck the floor.
“If the dagger is real, then we could have a problem. Explain to me exactly what Sean said.”
“He believes the dagger was used—”
Darach stopped when a breath of air whirled inside the room. It grew to the height of a man, constantly swirling until it slowed—and out of its midst staggered the halfling.
A look at Darach opened Sean’s mouth. “What the hell—” One moment the lie
utenant was standing, the next sitting in a fabricated chair right next to him.
“I would appreciate if you refrained from using that word here.” Michael’s words were couched in a quiet manner, but Darach knew better. The archangel was hunting for answers and it would be best for everyone if he got them.
“Where is ‘here’?” Sean looked toward Michael and then back at Darach. “Is this who I think it is?”
Michael smiled. “Forgive my manners. Yes, I am Michael. Your demon heritage and Darach would have told you what status I hold inside Heaven’s gates.”
Sean looked a bit stunned, but then he pulled himself together. “Nice to meet you, but let’s get something straight. I am not fully demon, nor do I embrace that part of my ancestry.”
“Right, and for that reason you are here. You have been instrumental in helping my immortal and Abigail. Now, I need your help in deciphering where the dagger came from and if it is real.”
Sean crossed one leg over the other at the ankle, before looking around the room. “Nice digs. And of course, I will be happy to do anything I can to help.”
“Thank you. Now, tell me what you know of the dagger. When did you hear of its existence?”
Darach waited, also anticipating, to see if Sean could shed more on the subject of the blade. He needed answers in order to get on with his life.
“It was after I was kicked out of the orphanage that I ran into some demons. After they tried to kick my teeth in, they did not succeed by the way, I hung with them for a while. It was safer being a young demon to immerse myself with older beings. It’s been so long, but from what I remember they said they’d heard about it from ancient demons.” Sean looked Michael square in the eyes. “From that summary, it would seem the dagger has been in existence since almost the beginning of time.”
“So it would seem.” Michael waved his hands and a tray of refreshments materialized on a table that also appeared between their two chairs.
“Refresh yourselves. This could take quite a while. I’ll return in a few moments. Oh, and if curious, you won’t be able to leave this room to explore.”
Darach expected the archangel to poof himself out of the room, but Michael’s long strides were almost mortal as he exited the room.
“Dude, you have to be kidding me. That’s Michael? He looks like the warrior of all warriors ever made.”
“Aye, there be a good reason for that. He handles God’s warriors.” Darach reached out and picked up a glass of liquid from the tray. The rich nectar was a combination of sweet and spicy. After quenching his thirst, he turned to Sean again.
“If ye noticed, Michael is a wee bit upset.”
“How can you tell? His face looks like it’s carved out of marble.”
“Oh, believe me, he zapped me out of my bed at the hospital so fast, I almost swallowed me tongue in the process.”
“Well, try being in the middle of a conversation with your boss and the next being zapped out of the only world you’ve ever seen.”
“Been there and done that, remember?”
Sean nibbled on a piece of confectionary he’d chosen from the vast array on the serving tray before answering. “Yeah, I’m sorry. That had to be hard. So, I suppose Michael can fix my boss’s memory?”
“Of course I can, Lieutenant Black.”
Both men jumped as Michael suddenly appeared back in his chair.
“Thank you, that would be helpful.”
“Okay, my boss wants this dealt with as quickly as possible. The dagger must be found.”
“And do ye have any idea where we look?” Darach knew his tone was a bit testy, but so far he still didn’t have an answer about how to fix his problem.
“You will go back out on the streets with Sean tailing you. As a target, Angus will—”
“Ye think Angus is behind this?”
“Don’t you? It was you who was targeted, Darach, and in answer to your question of how to fix your problem. If the spell used was indeed a combination of black magick and angel DNA…” The archangel actually blanched before continuing. “Then the only way to break the spell on you is to destroy the weapon.”
Darach opened his mouth to protest but Michael’s hand forestalled him.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Lucifer’s downfall and subsequently dabbling in all manner of magick helped him grow stronger. This dagger is evil incarnate, designed to stop any and all who practice good. Once you find the dagger, Sean must be the one to touch it.”
The halfling’s protest was also cut off. “You have to be the one. Only someone with demon DNA, even though it’s unwanted by you, can touch the dagger without falling victim to it’s spell.”
Darach sat forward in his chair. “So, I’m to be on the street with Sean as backup?”
“Not just the lieutenant, I’m bringing in Conner and Ragnor. They are not known by anyone around here. And neither one has had any interaction with Angus back before you two became immortals.”
“So when will they arrive?”
Michael glanced at an ornate hourglass sitting on his desk.
“Any moment now. I sent a couple of emissaries to get them.”
“What, you didn’t want to beam ’em up like you did us?” Sean’s question caused a smile to erupt on Michael’s lips.
“Since you are my guest, I will answer your question. I decided we needed to finish our talk before they arrived.” Michael glanced at Darach who chose not to get involved in the archangel’s and Sean’s conversation.
Since he wasn’t one hundred percent himself then it would be good to have these men at his side. In the days of their training he, Conner, and Ragnor had grown as close as three people could be after being hit with their immortality.
A slight chime sounded before twin dust columns invaded Michael’s office. Darach watched as first Conner Douglas, and then Ragnor, who had never admitted to a last name, at least to him or Conner, stepped from the swirling dervishes. Both men were as tall as Darach, both men shook their heads sending in Conner’s case chestnut hair, and the Viking’s black mane flying. Both sets of eyes, one a green gaze of disturbance, and the other dark blue, also filled with angst turned toward Michael.
“Michael, ye took me away from hunting a demon I’ve been tracking for days.” Conner threw out the first sentence.
“Yeah, and I was in the middle of a fight and winning when you had your messenger interrupt.” Ragnor’s tone matched his build, deep, barrel-like, and not at all happy.
Michael merely looked both warriors over before nodding his head Darach’s way. “You may thank your brother-in-arms. He is in need of help in tracking down a demon who has fast hit the top of my bad list.”
Darach stood to his feet and waited.
Both men’s frowns turned into grins when they spotted Darach. Their hearty backslapping almost sent him to his knees, but he grinned and bore it. These men had been just as helpless and confused as he was when they trained under Michael. All having met their earthly deaths with violent endings.
“Darach, ye old dog, I’ve missed you.” Conner’s green eyes flashed with a sheen of tears, and Darach felt the same moisture threatening his.
Ragnor’s gaze was equally exuberant as he stared at Darach, but there was an underlying sadness in his blue gaze. “Greetings, my friend. I too have missed our talks and fights.”
“’Tis been entirely too long since we’ve tied one on or settle minor differences with our swords.” Darach stepped back as two chairs materialized for his fellow executioners.
“Now, if all the greetings are out of the way, I’d like to get down to the reason for this meeting. Sit down, Darach.” Michael’s tone remained pleasant but all of them, and Sean who had not moved a muscle, knew not to say another word.
“We have a situation where Angus, and yes, he is the man who killed Darach and his family, has come into possession of an old and extremely dangerous weapon. A dagger that has magical components, and after he was attacked with it,
Darach lost his ability to sense demons.”
“How did this happen?” Conner’s question blasted the air with its intensity.
“It happened when a group of demons attacked me. They left me for dead and if not for Sean here”—Darach motioned toward the halfling—“I woulda died again.”
“Why is there a demon in your office, Michael?” Ragnor’s words were low but vehement all the same.
“I am not a demon.” Sean rose from his seat but a wave of Michael’s hands pushed him back into the ornate chair.
“Sit. I will handle this.” Michael turned to Ragnor. “Lieutenant Black is only half-demon, and that is in no way his fault. Be that as it may, his ancestry has nothing to do with the fact he saved Darach’s life and has been helping him hunt Angus.” Michael paused, gave all of them a look, and then continued.
“I want that dagger found. When it is, Sean is the only one of you that can handle it without being in danger of having your powers diminished. Ragnor, you will help Darach find Angus. Conner, you will work with Sean. I deem that will not be a problem?” Michael’s question was couched more as a command then anything else.
“No problem for me. You have a problem, Sean?” Conner’s smile helped to ease some of the tension from Sean’s posture.
“None on my part. I want to find that dagger and get it out of commission. The more executioners it harms, the more work there will be for me in trying to keep New Orleans safe.” Sean actually dug up a smile. Darach had to give him points for being as conciliatory as he was considering Ragnor’s attitude.
“Good, then it’s settled. I will send you all back now.” Michael’s hand stopped in mid-wave when Ragnor spoke. “No, I can’t go.”
Darach actually felt his body tense. He also spotted the disbelief on Conner and Sean’s faces. Michael’s face however remained smooth, although his golden gaze seemed to intensify.
“I do not believe I heard you correctly, Ragnor.”
“As much as I hate to say it, yes you did, Michael. I have unfinished business before I can help, Darach. No offense intended, brother.” Ragnor looked to Darach.
