by Ciara Graves
Hands grappled for me in the dark, tugging me one way then the other. I swung my ax around, but then it was wrenched out of my grasp and disappeared into the dark. Something hit me in the back and sent me to my knees. Hands grabbed hold of my wrists. The shadows parted, leaving that same haze hovering in the air.
Two angels, resembling wraiths in black cloaks, held me fast.
Hadariel stood before me.
On their knees, next to him, were my parents, hands were bound behind their backs, covered in blood.
“Commander Lela, how good of you to join us,” Hadariel said as he rested a hand on my parents’ shoulders.
My mother flinched away as my father spat at his feet.
“Traitor,” my father snarled. “You’re a traitor.”
Hadariel walked away from them and came toward me. I fought to get free, but the angels holding me were too strong.
“Get away from our daughter,” Mom shouted. “Get away!”
None of this made sense. My parents were killed in battle against the evils of Hell. I remembered word for word what the angel commander leading the charge told me when they’d returned with half their numbers. They couldn’t be here. Why were they calling High General Hadariel a traitor?
“Lela, don’t look at him,” Dad ordered. “Shut your eyes. You have to listen to us.”
“Don’t listen to them, my dear Lela,” Hadariel said loudly over their raging shouts. “You are very important to me and my army.”
I leaned away from him, my back tingling. What was going on? This was a nightmare. It had to be one. But why did it feel so real?
“Now then, Lela, you wish to continue to do your duty, yes?” Hadariel asked.
“Ignore him,” Mom shouted.
An angel appeared behind her and placed a dagger to her throat. Another stood behind Dad and did the same.
I shouted and made it to my feet, but then Hadariel laid his hands on either side of my head.
“Look at me,” he said in that charming voice I remembered from long ago.
I couldn’t pull my gaze away from my parents and the blades at their throats.
“I said, look at me,” Hadariel commanded.
I had no choice but to let my gaze be taken by his.
He smiled, but it was wrong. My skin itched then burned where he touched me.
“You will fight for me, Lela. You will continue to do your duty as an angel in this war against the evils of Hell. Against the demons. Isn’t that right?”
“Lela,” Mom gasped. “Lela.”
I heard a thud. Dad was shouting and cursing, but I couldn’t look away. Hadariel held my gaze and then there was nothing around us except the comforting glow of holy light. Dad yelled but was cut off by the sound of gagging. Then there was a second thud.
“Don’t,” Hadariel snapped when I tried to look away and see. “You are loyal to me, Lela.”
“Yes, High General,” I replied, but my mouth moved on its own. I hadn’t wanted to say anything. The light intensified and I forgot why I’d even come to the hall in the first place. Hadariel. I was here to receive new orders, right? That had to be it. There were strange dragging sounds around us, but then Hadariel was talking again, and I only had to listen and obey—
I bolted upright in bed, biting back a scream as I wrenched my back. Drenched in a cold sweat, I threw the covers away and forgot how weak I was until I attempted to stand.
I hit the floor. My hands shot out to catch my fall, and I barely missed smacking my face on the floorboards. The room was real, but my head was spinning. What had I just seen? That wasn’t like the other nightmares. Those had all been about Hadariel stealing my light.
This was something else entirely.
I half crawled, half dragged myself into the bathroom, then hauled my body up with the sink. I flipped the light on and splashed water on my face to clear away the foggy haze. My arms twitched and jerked as my muscles spasmed, still feeling Hadariel’s hands on my face. A sharp pain shot through my back and I bit back another cry, not wanting anyone to come running. I sank to the cold, tile floor, shaking and alone.
What had I just seen? Was I losing it? This was what having my light stolen did to me. I was going to go crazy. I buried my face in my hands and hunched over as much as I could, willing what I witnessed to be just another nightmare.
Just another nightmare. My parents died in battle. Hadariel didn’t murder them because they knew the truth. He couldn’t have. It was just another nightmare.
I lost track of time. Somehow, I made it back to bed, but all my energy was just gone. I had no drive to get up and move. I wasn’t sure what the point was. The images of Hadariel and my parents haunted me during my waking hours and at night. Any time Tim or Bailey came to check on me, I ignored them.
They both scolded me, then tried to encourage me, but nothing they said made a difference.
The one I never saw was Mech. I scoffed to myself as the sun set on another pointless day. I wondered if I had managed to drive him away. My smugness turned to worry, then fear that something bad happened to him. He could be fighting off a horde of undead, or abominations. And there was nothing I could do to help him. He’d die, and I’d still be sitting here in this damned bed.
Worry gnawed at me well into the night, until yelling came from below.
I wasn’t the only one staying in this safe house. They’d brought other mortals who needed a safe place to heal. They screamed in their sleep. Not that I blamed them. I had nightmares from what I’d seen, and I was a divine being. How they all hadn’t gone insane at this point was a miracle in itself. I figured that these injured humans were the cause of the commotion.
When the shouts neared my door, I sat up.
Mech. That was his voice.
I wasn’t sure about the other voice but thought it might be Tim.
There was a loud knock a few seconds later.
I froze.
The knock came again, louder this time.
“Go away,” I yelled, not in the mood to deal with anyone, but especially Mech.
He didn’t reply. He knocked louder.
“I said, go away!”
Silence followed until the door burst open and Mech stormed into the room.
“What are you doing?” I demanded as he approached.
He was sporting a new black eye, a split lip, and several cuts along his neck and upper arms. His black, tight t-shirt was muddy and torn in a few places.
“Mech?”
He said nothing. Just growled and shook his head, giving me a disappointed look.
I squared my shoulders and stared him down. I was about to ask him what he’d been up to the last three days and why he looked like shit when he reached for me.
Ignoring my protests, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. It jarred my wounds, but I bit back my yelp of pain.
He carried me out of the bedroom.
“What are you doing? Put me down, you asshole.”
He grunted in reply and made for the stairs. Bobby, Tim, and Bailey were in the hallway. All of them had varying looks of amusement on their faces. I beat at Mech’s shoulders but was too weak to do much except annoy him.
“Mech, this is ridiculous,” I snapped as he stomped downstairs. “You can’t just pick people up and carry them around. Put me down already. What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of that damned room,” he snapped, then deposited me on the couch in the living room.
The couch was overstuffed and had seen better days. There were two mismatched recliners across from it, several wood tables that were being held together by wire and duct tape. The hearth was empty, but there was a stack of fresh wood next to it and ashes in it from a recent fire. Three lamps occupied the corners, and he walked around, turning them on. The sun was setting outside. I crossed my arms, and as soon as he turned his back to me, made to get up and go back upstairs. He was too fast and snagged my wrist.
“Sit your ass down, Commander,” he
growled, lowering his head, so we were eye level. “Now.”
I glowered at him but plopped down on the couch.
He nodded and let my wrist go, but not before I had a chance to see how badly his knuckles were busted. Like he’d been beating the crap out of something. Repeatedly. I thought back and realized he disappeared right after I finally confessed to him what Hadariel did.
“Did you…” I licked my lips, then started again. “Did you go find something to attack because of what I told you?”
He crossed his arms, muscles bulging, but his eyes narrowed. “So what if I did?”
“Why are you such an idiot? Are you seriously going out there looking for trouble?”
“At least I’m not locking myself in a room for days on end,” he shot back. “Not eating. Not sleeping. Shit, Lela, you can’t live in that damned room for the rest of your life.”
“Why not, huh? And don’t start giving me that speech about needing me,” I said as soon as he opened his mouth. “We’ve been over this. I am not the same angel anymore. I can’t help anyone.”
Images of Hadariel closing in on me as my parents were murdered had me choking on my next words. I grabbed the edges of the cushion, and the room spun.
“Lela,” Mech said, but I couldn’t see him anymore.
I gulped and willed the images to go away. I almost toppled over, but Mech was there to stop me from hitting the floor.
“Take a breath. You’re shaking. Bailey, get her some water, would you? What happened while I was gone?” he demanded, not removing his hands from my arms. Other voices answered him, but all I heard was Hadariel talking to me as he held my face in his hands, then heard him again as he ripped my wings out. I was suddenly clutching at Mech’s shirt as my back went rigid. “Stay with me, Lela. I’m right here.”
I nodded, shutting my eyes.
He told me to breathe.
I sucked in a deep breath then let it out, matching his.
After a minute, the shaking wasn’t as bad, and his face came back into view. He held out the glass of water, and I sipped. It didn’t sit well in my empty stomach. I handed it back. His brow furrowed, but he took it from me, then helped situate me on the couch. I waited for him to move across the room, or to sit beside me, but he stayed right where he was. His hands, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, were comforting. Any time he was around was comforting, not that I was going to tell him.
“Lela?”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, then cleared my throat, trying to shove away the overwhelming sensation of fear. “I’m just, uh, weak. Still. That’s all.”
“Look me in the eye and say that.”
Floorboards creaked behind the couch. I glanced over my shoulder.
Tim, Bailey, and Bobby were watching us. They weren’t looking at me, though. They were staring at Mech, as if waiting to hear him say something. As if he had something he had to tell me.
“What happened to your hands?” I asked as I faced Mech again.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Mech, you look like you had your ass kicked.”
His brow rose. “Why don’t you tell me why you refused to leave your room for three days?”
I shrugged. “I told you.”
“No, you’re different. You’re worse. What changed?”
“Why should I tell you anything? We’re nothing to each other, remember?”
“Really,” he said as he straightened and looked down at me. “If that’s true, then why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you give a damn.”
I sank back into the couch. “I don’t.”
“Right. Like I believe that. You’re going to stay down here for a while and get some freaking fresh air. Not about to let you waste away in that room.”
He walked off, but when he passed the couch, his gaze found mine, and he stilled. The determination in his eyes was followed quickly by anger. I knew that it wasn’t directed at me. I never should have told him what Hadariel did. Mech shouldn’t care this much about me, but here he was, trying to stop me from fading away into nothing or being devoured by the shadow hanging over me.
I almost lost my nerve and told him what I saw in my nightmares, but I bit back the words at the last second. He grunted, clearly annoyed, then stormed out of the living room. I heard the low timbre of his voice as he spoke to the others, but they were too quiet to discern what they’d said. I tucked my feet up under me on the couch and looked out the windows at the oncoming night.
Bailey brought food out to the living room after a while.
“Mech said to eat,” she informed me then walked away, not giving me a chance to protest.
I frowned at the sandwich, but my stomach grumbled as a hint of appetite appeared.
Bobby shambled into the room and sat down in one of the chairs.
“Don’t tell me he sent the zombie to babysit me.”
“Ouch, that hurt,” he said sarcastically as he placed a hand to his heart. “I’ve never heard that one before.” He shut his eyes. Well, his eye. The other one rolled in the socket and focused on me. “And I’d eat that if I were you.”
I was tempted to throw it at him, but eventually took a couple of bites. I wanted to know what Mech had been up to the last three days. From the fresh stitches on Bobby’s neck and right arm, he had been with him.
I ate half the sandwich then started to ask Bobby, but he snorted in amusement.
“What?”
“Not happening. You tell him why you’re all depressed, and he might tell you what he did. Until then, my lips are sealed. Mostly,” he added with a dry rustling laugh.
I sulked on the couch and listened to the others in the safe house.
If Mech thought he could bully me into getting over what I went through, he had another think coming. He didn’t understand. He never would.
Chapter 3
Mech
I ducked as a plate flew at my head. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Get out of my room,” Lela shouted. She hurled a coffee mug next. “I don’t want to talk about it. How many times do I have to tell you that, huh?” She ran out of dishes and stood there, her chest heaving, hands curled at her sides.
I waited for her to charge me and throw a punch. I’d take it, if it brought back the fire in her eyes. But as quickly as her outburst started, it faded, and she paled. The last two days, since I returned to the safe house, had been like this. I’d fight to get her out of her room, dump her somewhere else in the house, and then there’d be an argument. She didn’t want to talk about what had changed. She said it was nothing. Each time it was the same damned thing. Nothing had changed.
Only it had. The fear in her eyes and the shaking of her hands told me that much. Either her nightmares were getting worse, or she wasn’t telling me everything. Shit, could be both, for all I knew, since that damned, stubborn, pain-in-the-ass woman told me nothing.
And each day, I fought with myself regarding how to tell her why I’d refused to give up on her. It wasn’t simply because we could still use her help in this war, despite what she believed. It was more than that. I needed her, and one of these days, she’d figure out she needed me just as much.
I backed toward the door.
A small, triumphant smirk curled her lips.
“You’re never going to chase me away,” I warned.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s the truth. I want you out of this room in twenty minutes, or I’ll be back up to drag you out, got it?” I exited and slammed the door on her aggravated scream.
Kexan stood at the railing, looking down at the first floor. “She’s a fiery one.”
I glared at the closed door. “She used to be.”
“You said it yourself. She just needs time.”
“We’re running out of time. Her wounds still aren’t healing properly, and she keeps screaming in her sleep.” I rubbed my face, joined him at the raili
ng. I rested my hands on the worn wood, then dropped my forehead to it. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“As though any demon in your shoes would? She’s been through the wringer.”
“And I’m supposed to be the one to bring her out of it. All I’m doing is making it worse.”
Kexan slapped me on the back. “Get it together. I need you at your best. You healed up enough to head back out there?”
I raised my head. “You have orders?”
“From Koreth. He wants us to go after the abominations you were meant to track down when you went looking for Lela instead. The angels may have gone silent, but sadly, the rifts haven’t. A pack of those monsters tore through a tiny outpost a few miles from here.”
“How’s the warding there?”
Bear Run was a much smaller outpost than Hellfire, and though we were able to use our fire to ward it against evil, it didn’t have as many defenses set up. Most humans and demons here were meant to be on the mend. This outpost was in the hills, tucked away in the woods, with only five buildings—makeshift houses, and a supply depot. There was no chance of knowing it was here unless you already about it. Nothing had attacked Bear Run during the years of the war.
“Holding strong, as it should. Koreth put it in place, remember?”
“Yeah, I do.” He’d redone it when those who fled Hellfire came here. The same time I brought Lela here. Those abominations being only a few miles away did not sit well with me. “Let me grab my gear, and we’ll head out.”
As I made to walk past him, heading for the stairs, he caught my arm. “You need to return to Hell soon. You’re not looking so well.”
“I will once we complete this mission.”
Just like angels, demons needed a chance to recharge in our own domains. I hadn’t been back to Olem—my realm in Hell—in far too long. I sensed my fire growing weaker, but it’d last a few more days before it was doused fully. Getting it back would mean a solid twenty-four hours in Hell. Essentially in a coma. It wasn’t ideal, but that’s what I’d have to do. We went downstairs.
I gathered my daggers from the living room where I’d left them, sheathed two at each side, another at my lower back, then one more in each boot. When I’d come back from beating the shit out of those zombies, I’d looked like crap and my clothes had been ruined. Luckily, I kept extra clothes, and weapons stashed here. My knuckles had mostly healed over, but that hadn’t stopped Lela from demanding I tell her what I’d gone and done.
