Not right this second... “What are you doing up here, Tai Li? You know you’re fair game when you’re fucking around topside.”
Tai Li was wearing the same old unimaginative human façade they seemed to be drawn to. To anyone who saw him, he’d look like a cage fighter from New Jersey. This one had shaved his head and added a complex of tribal tats up and down each of his bare arms. Brown eyes under heavy brows completed his makeup. He tucked one hand into the pocket of his baggy jeans and pulled out a small plastic baggie.
Handing it to Sean, he said, “Okay, fine. You caught me. I was bored, man. I needed a break from all the drama that’s going on down there.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Irku’s a motherfucking nightmare. You have no idea what it’s like now. You’re lucky you got out when you did.”
He sniffed at the plastic. Pot? That’s it? It smelled like high quality weed, but still… it was only weed. Not some creative lab synthetic that would kill kids the first time they took it. Not even coke. Just pot? As far as grand plans went, this one was a bust. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Handing it back, he broke into a reluctant smile. “You suck as a demon. You’re actually trying to tell me your idea of spreading chaos is to distribute marijuana to the masses? The only chaos you’ll get is a mad rush for burritos at 2:00 in the morning. This is stupid even for you.”
Relaxed now, Tai Li shoved the package into his pocket and grinned. “Whatever, man. It gets me topside and away from having my scales peeled off one at a time. I’ve got a sensitive stomach. That shit makes me puke. It’s humiliating. So what are you and your boys planning to do about Irku? Going to banish him again?”
“Irku’s your problem now. Your boss put him in charge. I’ve got strict orders to stay away. He wants my heart on a platter. It took months to heal the damage from the last time he wrapped his hand around it. For once, I’m following orders. I don’t have a death wish.”
“Yeah, but still, don’t you want some payback?”
“Hell yeah I do, but I’m not an idiot.” He considered the expression on Tai Li’s face. He seemed genuinely worried about Irku. Not a shocker, that. Irku was one of the three biggies: Satan, Lilith, and Irku. All of demondom was wary of their new leader. He was more powerful than any of them and ruled with a cruel hand. Rumor had it the lower-level demons secretly hoped the angels would destroy Irku for them. Too bad the angels weren’t strong enough.
Before Tai Li could say another word, Dec materialized and wrenched his arms behind his back.
“Congratulations, demon. You’re lucky number 13. I’m having a good night.”
Chapter 7: Fugue You!
THE STONE ANGEL SPRANG OUT of the mist right in front of Rori. She bit her tongue trying to scream and hyperventilate at the same time. Holy shit! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? With a galloping heartbeat echoing in her ears, she sucked in some calming oxygen and scowled at the looming statue. It stood about 12 feet tall including its large, squat base. The fierce angel was equipped with an eight-foot wingspread and a bronze sword. As far as she knew, it had been erected by pious men to oversee the Saint Anne’s churchyard full of souls, lost and otherwise. She’d never asked for its bio. Not that it mattered, anyway. It was just another hunk of rock hanging out with hundreds of other rocks, representing a creature from the fantasies of people who needed to believe in such things. Angels didn’t exist. Period. Now that her lungs were processing air again, she turned away to finish her errand and stopped.
What on earth?
This was New York. The summer weather could be weird sometimes, and it wasn’t unusual for there to be fog in the morning. Even heavy fog happened now and then. She’d been here often enough to know that to be true. What was unusual was the glimmer of gold that caught her eye as she’d turned to leave. Frozen at the base, she stared upwards, but the glint was gone.
“I repeat. What on earth?”
If she didn’t know any better, the angel’s eyes were glowing golden in the morning sun. Impossible. It had to be a trick of the light, a reflection against the fog or something. She tied her thin hoodie more tightly around her to ward off the sudden chill. Tilting her head left and right, she squinted at the angel, but the phenomenon was gone. “Huh. Sure, that’s not even a little freaky.”
Maybe she needed to get her eyes checked. Determined to figure it out, she walked around the base three times, looking for some sign of the strange glow. But there was nothing weird to see. No glowing eyes, no gleam of light, nothing but the cold, kind of creepy stare of the stone angel. Upon closer inspection, she noticed bits of green moss clinging to the timeless hunk of rock. It seemed… fake somehow. It was almost like the angel was trying to be something it wasn’t---ancient? How old was it? Hmm. Why hadn’t she ever stopped to study the angel before today? Sure, it’d been there for as long as she could remember, but it never seemed alive before.
Alive? Now where did that thought come from? Snorting at her own overactive imagination, she mentally slapped herself in the back of the head. She didn’t have time to dwell on the undead lawn art hanging around this plot of hallowed ground. Dismissing the angel and its mysteries, she headed towards the loneliest section of the cemetery.
Dec eased from behind the statue and winked at Saint Anne’s guardian angel. All the corpses were still snug in their pine boxes. Hallowed ground was still hallowed. There was nothing here but peace and quiet for the dead. Good job, mate! Keep up the good work.
The inanimate angel had nothing to add, so he went ghost to follow today’s prey. She was infinitely cuter than the baker’s dozen he stalked last night. He and Sean had vanquished a total of 25 demons between the two of them. That was really just a drop of water in an ocean seething with demons, but it was what they did, and it was damn good to blow up even a few of them. It was important to remember what he was. He was a dangerous soldier. He delivered justice. He was a killer. Well, that wasn’t too flattering, was it? True, yes. Flattering, no. He sighed long and hard. He was what he was… there was no apologizing for it. Primani were needed, but that didn’t mean humans would completely embrace them. They could be brutal.
After meandering along a crumbling asphalt lane, Rori finally slowed her steps. She seemed to be searching for something in the grass. He slipped behind a tree and gave up the ghost. Now fully visible, he lounged against the rough bark, wondering about the woman in front of him. Soooo, she didn’t believe in angels or demons. She had psychic powers that she was trying desperately to deny. Aaaand, she had a demon sniffing around her like she was dinner. Things would come to a head at some point. And when they did, he was going to rock her world.
“Please, God, don’t let her hate me for it.”
The grave marker measured six by eight inches and was made of a cheap metal mixture that managed to be both shiny and tarnished at the same time. The plaque was inscribed with a name, dates of birth and death, and a heavily weathered sigil in the upper left-hand corner. That was it. No epitaph. No loving messages, no next of kin, nothing but the barest facts. This part of the cemetery was old, mostly forgotten. The grounds keepers focused their efforts on the sections that could be seen from the road. After all, it wouldn’t do for people to think the dead weren’t resting under manicured lawns. This section was overgrown with stalky weeds, and thanks to the recent rain, dotted with dandelions and purple clover. As a result, the grave marker was buried nearly as deeply as the person it identified.
“Hey. It’s me.” Her voice sounded louder than normal in the last remnants of mist. “I need help. Something bad is coming. I see it… in my head. But I can’t see enough! I can’t warn him. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
The silence was broken by the shriek of a cat. She jumped, nearly falling on her butt. “Damn it!”
The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Spinning around, she scanned the trees, finding nothing. Something was out there. She sensed it watching her. After searching until her eyes were dry, she turned back to the grave, sinking into tho
ught. While carefully choosing her next words, she idly traced the shape of the sigil.
“He’s going to die, and I can’t stop it. I’m useless.”
Hello, Rori.
“No!”
Dec was already running when Rori sank to the grass. She lay sprawled in a tangled heap, her eyes open, staring, terrified. As before, her skin was chalk white, her mouth blue. Dropping to his knees, he checked her pulse in near panic. What was wrong with her? She was too cold, her skin icy against his hands.
“You’re looking in the wrong place, Dec.”
Killian materialized beside him with a slight smile on his usually stern face.
“Killian! Thank God. What do you know about this?”
“Enough.” Killian knelt and gently closed her eyes with a fingertip. After a moment, he locked eyes with Dec. “What kind of psychic abilities do you think she has?”
The question seemed reasonable enough, but his tone was bordering on amused. Little red warning lights went nuts inside his head. Before answering, he thought about what he’d seen in her head. Dreams, visions, premonitions?
“She has visions, but they aren’t clear,” he explained. “She also has dreams, but I get the feeling those are separate from the visions.”
Standing, Killian brushed grass from his jeans and asked, “And? Are they premonitions?”
“I think so. I haven’t been able to get her to open up to me though.” He stopped rubbing her icy fingers and asked intuitively, “But you don’t think so?”
Killian ran his eyes around the graveyard twice before answering, “No, I don’t. Neither does Raphael. He sent me to find you.” He waved a hand over Rori’s unconscious form and frowned. “Now this? This is something else entirely.”
The earth shook. Banshees howled. Someone shrieked in pain.
He was coming!
Rori needed to move. Needed to run, needed to escape. She just needed to get away…
The shrieking split her head like an ax. It overwhelmed her, blinding her, deafening her… she rolled over, trying to center herself. The spinning made it impossible to get to her feet. She lay on the ground, clutching at the grass, willing the world to stop careening. Oh, my God, it’s worse than before.
“Hey, baby! Whatcha doing under there? You want to party?”
Someone jostled her by the arm until she opened her eyes to find two teenaged boys dressed in… were those curtains? She blinked a few times to clear her vision. Not curtains… fringe. She studied their hair and shoved a groan out of her mind. Of course.
Not banshees.
Janis Joplin--again.
Her ears rang from the massive speakers blaring out music on the corners of the temporary stage.
“You’d think I’d recognize her by now.”
Sonofabitch. It’s like friggin’ Groundhog Day.
Stumbling to her feet, she crawled out from under the stage after the two idiot boys woke her up. Did she want to party? Absolutely! Too bad this wasn’t the place and damn sure wasn’t the time. As usual, she was alone in this massive crowd. She’d give her right arm to have a friend to party with. She hadn’t seen Raine in weeks.
On the slope above her, the sea of people was endless. Packed like pills in a bottle, there were half-naked bodies for as far as she could see. Most of them were stoned out of their minds. Thank God the party boys had wandered off in search of a more willing playmate. Gathering her strength, she edged away from the stage before her head exploded. The damn vibrations were so strong they made her teeth ache. Thanks to Janis, her hearing was nearly gone too. Note to self: Find a better landing zone next time. Okay, the world was standing still now.
She needed to move before he found her.
This morning had been a massive treat--better than her usual sucky days. After a night of nightmares, she’d woken up to find her wrist broken and her shoulder covered with bruises. If that wasn’t freaky enough, she was also on the bathroom floor, staring into the beady, black eyes of a rat the size of Paris Hilton’s purse dog. More surprised than she was, the rat took off like a cheetah, out the door and through the broken bedroom window. Lucky for her, she had an old stretched out Ace bandage stuffed inside her sock drawer. She’d wrapped her wrist and hoped for the best. Now, the crappy bandage was sopping wet with mud and pretty much useless in holding her wrist still. She tried to straighten it, but it was nearly impossible to do with her left hand. Hissing with pain, she forced herself to act nonchalant while scanning the crazy ass place she’d ended up. How friggin’ long was she out this time?
As Janis belted out the final words to “A Piece of my Heart,” Rori winced, squeezing her eyes against the pain. When she cracked them open again, her lost her breath.
“Oh, God.”
Too late.
She’d know the tilt of his head, the defiant set of his shoulders, anywhere now. His blond hair reflected the weak sunlight like a halo. With the sun at his back, his eyes were deep in shadow, hollow, empty. She knew without light what color they were. She’d seen them other times. They bored into her now, demanding she listen, demanding she come with him.
“Go away! I can’t help you!” she screamed over the music.
Shoulders slumping in defeat, he lowered his gaze to his feet as he picked his way across the muddy field.
Backing up against the stage, she searched for a way out. Frantically scanning the crowd, she spotted it.
At least she wasn’t dead. That was a plus. What was he supposed to do with her? Killian flat out refused to let him move her. He said moving her from the store was a mistake. Probably moving her that day had exacerbated the disorientation that she experienced when she woke up, possibly even kicking off the horrible nightmare she had. In hindsight, that made perfect sense. He hoped she didn’t have any permanent brain damage.
Dec tucked Rori’s head against his chest and rested his chin on her, idly stroking her temples. Thick dark lashes brushed the bruises under her eyes. Purple now, they were a shocking contrast to the chalkiness of the rest of her face. She was so fragile, vulnerable. How had she been fighting this for so long? She had no one to help her, to teach her. Living alone in that dump of an apartment... where was her support? Surely a beautiful woman like her had a boyfriend, friends, someone who would be there for her. The dread-headed guy jumped up and down waving madly. Nope, sorry buddy. You don’t count. I don’t like you. So, besides that guy, wasn’t there anyone around?
Pressing his lips near her ear, he whispered, “Rori, come on sweet girl. I need you to come back to me. I need you to wake up. Come on, now. You can do it.”
A car drove past with its radio blaring “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” and he chuckled under his breath. Not on my watch! I’ve fixed worse than this before. This woman was not going to be a casualty. Not going to happen. But… what to do with her? He couldn’t just leave her lying in the grass and walk away. She was completely vulnerable. Leaving her here was a no-go, not even an option. He’d tried everything to bring her around. He’d even gone so far as to wrap her within the healing energy of his saol. He’d gently pushed some of his energy into her, hoping it would shock her into consciousness. All that had done was warm her up. Her white skin flushed to a nice rosy pink. He thought her lips had parted a little, but she didn’t respond in any other way. Her eyes were closed now, but she was still catatonic.
“Stop that, Dec. Do you want to create another Mica? Raphael might kill you.” Killian’s tone was light in spite of the harsh words. None of them would change how things with Mica had turned out.
“Shut up, dude. She’s not responding anyway.”
“Be patient. She’ll come around.”
He huffed with impatience. He wished he was more like Killian sometimes. Patience was his middle name. At the moment, Killian sat cross-legged on the other side of Rori. He’d been staring off into the distance for the last 15 minutes. Every now and then, his mouth curled into a smile. He was talking to Mica again. The two of them were connected by lo
ve, true, but more importantly for the sake of the planet, they were bound by blood--Killian’s and Raphael’s. They had the ability to enter each other’s minds. It was hilarious when they were on a mission and Mica would check in to yell at Killian. His face would go blank then he’d clamp his lips together and scowl at nothing. Normally it was amusing. Right now though, nothing much was funny.
“Rori! It’s me, Declan. If you can hear me, I want you to see me in your mind’s eye. Picture my face. I’m here for you. Let me be your anchor. Reach out to me. Call me if you need me. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll always come for you.” It was worth the words. Nothing was lost by telling her the truth. He’d hear her when she called him. It was one of his special gifts.
Out of the blue, something changed. The air around them began to hum in a low tone, the decibel faint, barely within their supernatural hearing capabilities, building in intensity until the birds stopped singing in the nearest tree. The skin on the back of his neck prickled in warning and he snapped his eyes to Killian. Killian nodded once, hand on his personal weapon, Sgaine Eiron. Its ruby burst to life, lighting his face in its vivid red glow. He closed his eyes in concentration, listening to it, following its message.
A fine tremor started in Rori’s feet, traveling slowly upwards. She trembled in his arms, her skin warmed to hot, flushing pink against his hand. He nearly dropped her and instinctively squeezed her tight against him. As their bodies connected, he saw a flash of something from the corner of his eye. It was a young boy, waving frantically.
“Incoming,” Killian warned with eyes aimed a few feet above them.
He followed Killian’s gaze and exclaimed, “Holy shit! What the hell is that?”
From a distance, it looked like a cloud of gnats, but as it came closer, the delicate particles glittered in the morning light. Killian backed away as it got closer. The swirl of gold dust made a beeline for Rori. As they watched in amazement, the tiny molecules swarmed over her flesh like another layer of skin and then disappeared as her body absorbed them.
Broken Souls (Primani Book 4) Page 10
