Angel's Breath: The Second Book of Fallen Angels

by Valmore Daniels

  Turning the paper back around, Stacy regarded it a moment longer. “Chuck hasn’t talked about Eugene for a long time. I thought they might have had a falling out, but maybe Chuck was just being careful.”

  “How?”

  “Eugene might be in on this insider-trading thing. Chuck was always telling me Eugene had forgotten more about hacking than he would ever know.”

  “Then maybe this Eugene character knows how to get in touch with Chuck?”

  “It’s a good bet,” Stacy said and went to grab her cell phone. “I’ll call directory assistance for Vancouver, and see if he’s listed.”

  “Vancouver, Canada?”

  “No, Washington, near the state line, north of Portland.”

  While Stacy dialed and spoke to an operator, I cleaned up dinner.

  “Any luck?” I asked when Stacy was finished.

  “There’s no listing under his name,” she said. “But I remember Chuck saying Eugene owned a gaming and hobby store right down the street from his place, next to a pancake house. I’m sure we can find it.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what to say. It seemed that Stacy had taken charge of the situation, and since she was obviously thinking better than I was, I didn’t want to tell her I thought it was a long shot.

  “Well,” I said, “Vancouver’s only about three hours away. Did you want to go now?”

  “The Gaming Boys won’t open until the morning,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “That’s the name of the game shop Chuck told me about.”

  My stomach suddenly fluttered and I felt a tingling sensation run through me.

  “What’s wrong?” Stacy asked, noticing.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not allergic to anything are you?”

  I grabbed my stomach. “No. It’s not the food.”

  “Then what is it?”

  The moment had passed, but I still felt odd. “You ever stand next to a live wire? It’s like something electric just shot through me.”

  She folded her arms and gave me a level stare. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what you told me before, does it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look,” she said, obviously struggling with her words. “I really don’t believe in the supernatural or psychics or any of that. I figured you were overtired and hallucinating it all. If I gave you some time, you would realize it was just your mind trying to rationalize what happened. I can’t explain why you don’t need glasses now, but I’m sure a doctor can.”

  I felt my face flush. I still hadn’t come to grips with the events of that morning, but I believed there was something supernatural that had occurred—how else could I explain the force that had sent two men flying across a room, or the tornado that had torn my house to splinters?

  No matter what I thought was the truth, I understood that it was impossible for any other rational person to believe it, especially since they had not witnessed what happened.

  “I know I sound crazy,” I said. “But—”

  Just then, I felt another small jolt go through me, and put my hands on the arms of the chair, as if that would stabilize me.

  Stacy sighed. “I hate warm soda. I’m going to get some ice.”

  “I’m not making this up,” I said in protest as she grabbed the ice bucket and left the room.

  Taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds, I let it out slowly. Maybe I was imagining things. There had to be a logical explanation for everything. I could be allergic to something in the food. My mind could have tricked me into thinking some unseen force had thrown those men across the room, when it might have been a result of an adrenaline surge.

  The tornado, though…

  I stood up and went after Stacy. I had to convince her I wasn’t crazy. She was the only person I had left in the world.

  The moment I stepped out of the room, a different sensation came over me. This one was natural and immediate.

  At the end of the row of motel rooms, Stacy stood between the ice machine and two men.

  The panic on her face was evident to me, and without thinking, I broke into a mad run toward them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The overhang threw the area into enough shadow that I couldn’t make out who the men were. I could only see their silhouettes. My first thought was that it was the bikers I had seen earlier in the evening, but as I neared, there was something more familiar about Stacy’s assailants.

  One was tall and the other short. Both wore suits. I recognized them as Al’s henchmen—there was no other suitable word for them—Nick and Tom. I felt my blood boil. It didn’t cross my mind to wonder how they had found us.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “Leave her alone.”

  The two of them swiveled in my direction, and I could see that they had guns. My shout startled them long enough for Stacy to bolt in the other direction. Tom, cursing, chased her down. With his long legs, he caught up quickly and threw an arm around her, pulling her off her feet. She kicked and screamed.

  Inside me, I felt that electric sensation from before—quite different from the fluttering I had felt in the room a few minutes ago—and I knew that there was something in me summoning that terrible power. Somehow, I could sense it begging to be unleashed.

  Thoughts of what had happened at my house when I had allowed that force free rein came thundering back to me, and like someone trying to keep his gorge down, I willed the thing inside me to remain there. I couldn’t live with myself if the power inside me harmed Stacy.

  I had almost reached Nick by that time, and even through my fury, I could see the alarm in his expression. I had done some uncanny, inexplicable things, and he must have been anticipating something equally outrageous from me.

  Without a warning, he swung his gun in my direction and fired wildly. I could feel the wind from the bullet as it whizzed past, and I heard a metallic clink as it hit something solid behind me.

  Not caring if Nick shot at me again, I let out a primal scream and launched myself at him. He fired again, and missed only because he tried to sidestep my tackle. I caught him with a shoulder, and we both spun around and fell to the ground.

  I was the first to get back on my feet, but before I could renew my attack, something very much like lightning struck me low in the back. The pain was unbelievable, and I bit my tongue as my body stiffened in a kind of paralytic shock before I fell over.

  “We want him alive, you idiot,” Al said in a snarl. I turned my head and saw him standing over me, a stun gun in one hand.

  “Sorry, boss. I thought he was going to do that thing again.”

  “I told you I had it covered. Next time, you will follow my instructions, or it will be the last.”

  Pulling himself off the ground, Nick dusted himself off, all the while keeping one eye on me.

  The feeling was starting to return to my arms and legs, and I was able to breathe on my own accord. I got to my knees, and Al promptly pushed me back down with his foot.

  “Nah,” he said. “Stay down.” He pointed the stun gun at me again, and from the expression on his face, I thought he was going to hit me with another charge of electricity.

  Stacy must have thought so too, because she twisted out of Tom’s grip and kicked at the gun, her foot connecting with Al’s wrist. The stun gun flew out of hands, and he immediately turned on her. Tom lunched forward and pulled her back away from Al. He wrapped one meaty arm around her neck to secure her.

  Al glared. “You seem to be having trouble with the little girl, Tom.”

  Tom, reddening, placed the barrel of his gun against the side of her cheek.

  Raising a finger to Stacy, Al said, “That’s the second time you hit me, you little bitch. There won’t be a third.”

  She shot him a defiant look, and in return, he smiled confidently and rested his foot on my back.

  “We need him alive. We don’t need you.”

  Tears streaked down Stacy’s cheeks;
not from pain, but from anger, frustration, and fear.

  “Don’t hurt her,” I said through gritted teeth. “She’s got nothing to do with this. Let her go.”

  “Not a chance.” Al let out a hollow, humorless laugh. “I can’t believe how stupid you two are.” He pulled out a cell phone, which looked like Chuck’s, and gave Stacy an incredulous look. “You sent your brother a text telling him where you were going? What a twit.”

  Stacy paled, and said, “What have you done to him, you bastard? If you’ve hurt him—”

  “Not to worry.” Al dropped the cell phone back into his pocket. “We’ll catch up to him soon enough. He’s just as stupid as you two. What, did he think pulling the battery and throwing the phone in a trash bin would be enough? You can get new batteries at any electronics store.”

  Stacy slumped, and I had the same overwhelming feeling of defeat. Although I had gone to jail and spent months in the company of criminals, I had never thought like them. We were completely outmatched against Al, who most likely had decades of experience.

  “Amateurs,” he said in a hiss. He bent over and picked up his stun gun from the ground.

  Snapping his fingers at Nick and Tom, he motioned toward the SUV truck at the other end of the parking lot. “Let’s get the package delivered. Shall we, gentlemen?”

  “Hey,” someone barked from a short distance away. When I turned, I saw the grizzled biker. He still wore his leather jacket and boots, but wasn’t wearing any pants. A rumpled pair of boxers with a pattern of pistols and hearts on them hung around his ample waist.

  A half-empty bottle of beer in his hand, he pointed to his motorcycle. “Who’s the shitter what shot my bike?”

  Nick took a step toward the biker, but stopped when Al put his hand in the way.

  “I’m sure it was an accident,” he said. “Nothing personal.”

  The biker took a swig of his beer to finish it off, and then smashed the bottom of it off against one of the metal poles supporting the overhang.

  “Accident, my ass. Someone’s going to pay for that.” He let out a short whistle through his teeth, and two more bikers—both fully dressed—stepped out of the room. One of them popped open a switchblade, while the other whirled a long, heavy chain with an industrial sized bolt fastened to the end.

  Keeping his voice as placating as he could, Al said, “My apologies if any damage was done. I’m sure that we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

  “Yeah,” the biker said. “You can step away from those folks there, and we can have ourselves a little go-around.” Over his shoulder, he spoke to his two buddies. “What do you say? Want to get a little exercise to work the kinks out from a long day on the road?”

  The two men grinned in anticipation, and the remaining bikers poured out of the two adjacent rooms they had rented.

  Al and his henchmen were outnumbered two to one, but I didn’t think that fact would have deterred them. It was that the commotion had attracted several other motel guests, as well as the manager, who had a cordless phone pressed against his face. Presumably, he was contacting the authorities.

  “Let’s go,” Al said to Nick and Tom, but in a voice loud enough for the bikers to hear. “If anyone tries to stop us, put a bullet in them. No messing around.” With that, he switched the stun gun to his other hand—still aiming it at me—and pulled out his automatic, holding it casually at his side but in plain view. All the while, his eyes darted back and forth, watching everyone at the same time.

  The leader of the bikers spat on the ground. “Looks like we got ourselves a few chicken-shits. They’d rather run and hide than have a straight-up fight.”

  They didn’t move any closer to us as Al and his men led us away, but they kept pace, determined grimaces etched on their faces. They weren’t going to try their luck against bullets, but they weren’t going to back down from a fight either.

  Throughout the entire confrontation, my emotions seesawed between anger and fear.

  Once again, I was helpless to do anything. Even if I could somehow figure out how to summon and channel that power in me faster than Al could shoot me with the stun gun again, I didn’t think I would be able to do anything before Tom shot Stacy. I couldn’t risk making a move.

  The brief flare of hope I had when the bikers came out was completely gone.

  I could see in Stacy’s eyes how frightened she was, but she held back her tongue and her tears, putting on as brave a face as she could under the circumstances.

  I kicked myself for not being able to think my way out of this situation.

  At their SUV, Al poked me with the stun gun. “You get in the back.” I opened the door and slid across the seat.

  Nick made his way around to the other side of the vehicle and got in beside me. Al closed the door, sealing us in.

  I had a strange feeling something wasn’t right. The front had bucket seats with a large console between them. There wasn’t room for three people up there, and Al had already shut me in the back with Nick.

  “Stace!” I yelled.

  Al smiled at me.

  I saw him raise the hand with the automatic in it and point it at Stacy’s head. He faced her and cocked the gun, not caring that there were witnesses.

  “You have one chance to tell me where your brother is. Save me some work, and I’ll let you live. Or don’t say anything, and die. Either way it’ll make me happy. After all, I owe you some payback, bitch.”

  Darcy’s bottom lip trembled, and her eyes were wide with fear, but she said nothing.

  I reached for the handle and tried to surge forward to throw the door open, but Nick grabbed my arm and held his gun to my temple. “You won’t be able to dodge a bullet from this close,” he said in my ear.

  Outside, the bikers, seeing how ugly things had turned, stepped forward as one.

  The leader pointed at Al in warning. “Hey! You’re not going to pull that trigger.”

  Quick as a snake, Al swung the gun toward the group and fired one round. A puff of dust and rock kicked up between the biker leader’s boots. The men stopped in their tracks.

  “Back off,” Al commanded and, without bothering to check whether the bikers were obeying his order, brought the gun back to bear on Stacy. “Last chance, honey.”

  Obviously in shock, Stacy couldn’t form any words. She cried out and raked her fingernails across Tom’s arm, kicking her feet and trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

  “Too late,” Al said with a click of his tongue.

  I screamed and tried to summon that power from this morning to stop him, but the butt of Nick’s gun, heavy and sharp, smashed into my temple, and my senses swam.

  Al winked at Stacy and started to squeeze the trigger.

  I heard a scream and realized I was shouting Stacy’s name.

  I could feel the power inside me—fighting against the nausea from the blow to the head—surging up, but something happened in the instant before Al pulled the trigger all the way back.

  As if it had struck the embers of a campfire, the barrel of the gun exploded. The metal burst into pieces, all fluttering about like a thousand fireflies.

  Stacy instinctively jerked her head away. Tom, stepping back from the shower of sparks, let go his hold on her, and she fell to the ground hard. It looked as if she might have skinned her knees and hands.

  My astonishment over the spectacle was brief, however. Although I felt a surge of relief that Stacy was alive, I could see from Al’s reaction something else was happening; something that scared him.

  Eyes wide, both he and Tom swung around toward the highway, and Tom raised his gun. Without hesitation, he fired rapidly, as if intending to empty his cartridge in whatever it was that had spooked him.

  He got off three rounds before his gun turned a glowing red color, like an iron in a fire. With a yell, he threw his weapon away from him as quickly as he could.

  At the same time, Nick scrambled out of his door and leaned over the hood of the car, both arms out to hold
his gun steady as he took careful aim.

  Before he squeezed off a shot, he suddenly jumped back from the car as if he had been lying on hot coals. The sleeve of his jacket burst into flame. His gun dropped from his grasp as he batted at the fire burning his arm with his other hand.

  Earlier, when I had been in the room eating dinner, I had felt an electric jolt run through my innards. That same sensation came back, and without having to search for its origin, I looked toward the highway.

  The first thing I saw was a cube van race back onto the highway, sending a shower of gravel and dust pluming out behind the roaring tires. Within seconds, the van was gone from sight. But that vehicle wasn’t the cause of that odd sensation I felt; it was the passenger the van had dropped off.

  When the dust cleared, I saw a vision of fury masked as a young woman.

  She was radiant. Her long, red hair flowed loosely about her head. I could feel an unearthly power emanating from her as she walked toward us with a purposeful stride. Her right hand—fingers slightly spread—extended before her, pointing directly at Al. I got the distinct feeling that the woman intended to unleash absolute vengeance on him, with no more warning than he’d already had.

  Al, his face pulled back in a grimace of pain, and holding his hand, turned on his heel and fled. Tom and Nick followed right behind.

  I opened my door, stepped out and went to Stacy, who was slow to get up off the ground. With my help, she pulled herself to her feet and gave me a quizzical look, seeing Al and his thugs running away.

  “What happened?” Stacy asked me in a breathless rush.

  I opened my mouth to ask if she was all right, but stopped when I realized the redheaded woman was not pursuing Al and his men. Without breaking stride, she continued toward Stacy and me.

  I had no idea whether she was our rescuer or a new threat, and held myself stiff in anticipation. At the back of my mind, I remembered that there was some kind of primal power inside me, and if I needed to defend myself, I should try to summon it; especially against someone who could stop a bullet, melt guns and light someone’s sleeve on fire.