The Angel of the Lighthouse

by Lydia Fane

  The lighthouse was set on cleared land, but the tree line and undergrowth was always trying to make a comeback. It was hard, relentless work, but right now, Aries needed that. The web of demon taint was prodding his angelic side to attack – to destroy the demon, to burn it in holy light. But the web was hiding in the body of Skye, who called to him as no one else had in all his years. To destroy the darkness he would have to destroy Skye, and that was something that he would not, could not do.

  But unwinding the demon taint… that was another thing entirely. That was possible with skill and with patience. And skill and patience were usually in short supply when an angel was faced with a demon. That was the terrible beauty of demons.

  Aries shook his head. He would have to figure out what to do, but right now, he needed to lose himself in action – to do something to clear the confusion in his head. He made his way across the cleared land, looking out for any damage in the wake of the storm. He didn’t have to look for long: a tree had been blown down across the property border, lying across the fence. Aries hefted the axe, and set to work with a will, hewing branches.

  An hour later his shirt had been long since discarded and his muscles burned pleasantly. He could feel power thrumming under this skin, content. The branches of the tree were neatly stacked to one side, and the bare trunk remained. It was perhaps rather quick for any normal mortal, but Aries found that he didn’t mind if Skye noticed. He left the axe buried deep in the trunk to return to later, and went back to the lighthouse to fill out the weather report.

  ***

  Jack’s cottage wasn’t as cluttered as Aries, Skye noted. It certainly wasn’t as studious. The walls were a pale blue and the carpet a sea green. A miscellaneous piece of machinery sat on the table with a mechanical manual open beside it.

  Jack was clattered around in the kitchen and seemed quite happy to leave her to her own thoughts. She pulled one of the armchairs over to the window and settled down, curled up. The painkillers were easing the aches, her stomach was full, and the sun through the glass was warm.

  As much as she wanted to read, she found her eyes drifting shut. It was peaceful here – a kind of peaceful she hadn’t known in what felt like years. She’d only been half joking when she suggested making a documentary. It would be fascinating to bring this tower to the television screen. Men like this deserved to have their stories told.

  Perhaps she’d make a few notes, throw together a pitch before she went back. That would give her a reason to come back here after she had gone back to her home and her life.

  The tranquillity of this place was soothing. It was the opposite of what she’d left at home with Lewis. The row they’d had started out as something small. He’d made a disparaging comment about the outfit that she was wearing for a meeting. Rather than let it slide or compromise with him as she usually would, something inside her mind snapped. She had bit back sharply and everything had escalated. Issues she hadn’t even realised were bothering her were dragged up and flung at him, while he turned every mistake she had ever made into ammunition against her.

  Nothing she said seemed to get through to him, and he was always insisting that she was in the wrong. According to him, she was always the one at fault, and she was lucky that he was so ‘damn tolerant of her bullshit’.

  Those final words had opened a wound in her heart and she had rushed from the apartment in tears and a red-hot fury. She had to get away, and moved up her plans to fly out that day.

  Even as she was doing her pre-flight checks, she had started feeling guilty about the way she had behaved. Maybe she was over reacting. Maybe she was lucky that he loved her enough to put up with her insecurities.

  But this time, she insisted to herself, she was absolutely not going to be the first to apologise, to mend the rift. Let him come to her.

  And then that storm. Where she could have died, still aching from his harsh words. Would Lewis have felt guilty? Would have felt responsible for pushing her too far? Or would he see it as just another way that she was irresponsible?

  With a wrench, she turned her thoughts away from such maudlin and morbid ideas. She wasn’t in a place where she could look at her near death experience in any way calmly.

  It was Aries had said, his rich deep voice melodious. Focus on the here and now, and not on what could have been.

  The sun was warm on her closed eyes, and she found herself dreaming while awake. Random images played in her mind, stranger’s faces and strange locations. The images blurred and melded together in a confusing tangle, until they subsided into a concrete singular scene.

  Aries stood in front of the lighthouse, wrapped in shimmering golden robes. Huge steel grey wings spread around him and his eyes glowed a bright gold like the beam of his lighthouse. His hands were upraised in a warding gesture, golden light sparking around his fingers. In front of him was a shapeless black mass, emanating such hatred that her dream self recoiled from it. Shadows oozed from it towards Aries, insubstantial tentacles reaching over the grass, withering it under their touch.

  They stood as still as statues as if time was standing still. And while Skye was repelled by the black hatred, she was inexplicably drawn to it as well. She was drawn to Aries as well, caught between two opposing forces.

  She opened her eyes again, the dream clinging to her mind. She looked out of the window, and wondered for a moment if she was seeing a dream in the waking world.

  Through the window she could see Aries walking back towards the lighthouse from the direction of the trees. He was shirtless, and his broad shoulders and muscled arms sent a thrill of pure lust through her. He didn’t look real, outlined in the golden sun.

  As she looked at him, her mind brought up images of her fiancé, comparing and contrasting them. Where Aries was light, Lewis was dark, lean and wiry. He prided himself on his mind and disdained muscled men as meatheads with no brains or common sense. He would hate Aries. Pain began to gnaw at her temples as everything started to grow brighter, her signs of an oncoming headache. She sighed and shifted, closing her eyes again. Maybe she deserved a headache for looking at another man. It was exactly the kind of thing Lewis would say – the headache was the result of her own guilt. Guilt which was completely justified. Aside from anything else, she’d only known Aries a few hours. For all their troubles, Lewis and she were engaged; they had a life together. It wasn’t right for her to be staring at a virtual stranger like this, no matter how handsome. No matter even if he had most likely saved her life.

  Closing her eyes, Skye massaged her temples, willing the pain away.

  ***

  Aries rinsed the last vestiges of sweat from his skin, and draped a towel over his shoulders. He ran a hand through his damp hair and tried to smooth it back down.

  Skye had been napping when he had poked his head into Jack’s cottage half an hour earlier. Jack had shot him a thumbs up and he had withdrawn, reassured.

  It was Jack’s night for cooking, and Aries followed his nose over to the other cottage. Jack was lifting out a casserole dish from the oven, and the kitchen was wreathed in fragrant steam.

  Skye was curled up in the armchair next to the window, the unopened book lying on the sill. Jack had thrown a crocheted blanket over her, and her hands were twisted through the squares, twitching spasmodically in her sleep. Her brow was furrowed and her rosebud mouth was pursed in what looked like distress.

  “Do the honours?” Jack called. “Food’s up.”

  Aries knelt down by the side of the chair. Feather light, he touched Skye’s shoulder and focused. He knew his eyes were glowing as he tapped into his angelic power. His brother Taurus was the expert into seeing into the souls of others, but it took no skill to see the black web that had blossomed over her. Two thick strands pulsed from her heart to her temples, oozing malignancy.

  With care, he narrowed and channelled his power into a thin beam that brushed up over her shoulder and around her ear in a slow glide. He almost felt as if it were his fingers tracing the pa
th, her skin silky soft beneath his calloused pads. He let his power pool there, running over her skin like liquid light, siphoning some off to curl around her neck to wait by her other ear.

  He was partially aware of Jack coming over, but pulled his focus back to Skye. She needed him. No one should be wrapped and warped by demon taint. With that thought, his determination strengthened and he let loose his power. It leapt like an avatar of vengeance into the black web, light against dark. The malignant strands withered away from her temples, burning to ash in the pure fire. Twin strands of fire now made their way down towards Skye’s heart, purging the darkness as they went. But the closer to the heart his power went, the more the demon taint resisted. Aries let his power flow out in a continuous, steady stream. He would not fail.

  As both streams of light hit her heart, Skye came awake with a startled gasp, her beautiful eyes wide. Aries kept his hand on her shoulder and gave one final push with his power, and felt the demon web give way. It was not entirely gone, but its grip was lessened. With his fire still lingering as protection, those strands would not grow back. Unless she was exposed to the demon scum again. And Aries knew if he came face to face with the being that had dared to bind Skye, he would not rest until it was banished back to the hell realm or destroyed.

  “Welcome back,” he said gently, and Skye turned confused eyes to him. Aries felt a pang deep inside, and found himself resisting the urge to cup her face with his hand.

  “You fell asleep. Jack thought it best to let you rest, but we decided you wouldn’t want to miss a meal.”

  She stared at him blankly for a moment as if she was looking straight through him. He couldn’t bear that vacant expression in her lovely face. His resistance to touching her faded. Her cheek was soft under his thumb, and he could feel it as she burned with life. Unconsciously, she leaned into his touch and sighed with contentment. But all of a sudden, clarity returned to her eyes, and through his connection, Aries felt her start, and the demon web constrict. He pulled his hand away as if scalded and rose swiftly, only avoiding banging into Jack by dint of the other man’s reflexes.

  What had he done? He was an angel, a protector of humanity. He was supposed to help all, not just one. But it would be so easy to focus everything that he was on Skye. To burn the web from her, to protect her and to cherish her, to keep her safe from all that would harm her. To abandon his calling to focus on one woman alone.

  It would be so easy.

  He slumped into one of the chairs and tried to bring himself back onto an even keel. He had a duty of care to all humanity. He would look after Skye while she was here, and then would let her go. It would be for the best. He was needed here.

  Skye took a seat, and Aries felt his will dissolve. She looked upset and her eyes as she glanced his way were hurt. Was she offended that he had touched her? She might have felt he was taking liberties as she slept.

  That would not do. He sighed heavily.

  “I’m sorry, Skye,” he said, and she turned to look at him fully. “I shouldn’t have presumed. It was just...”

  What he was about to say wasn’t a lie, but it was not a true explanation either. “You reminded me of my sister, and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

  The look of hurt faded away from her eyes, and Aries felt a strong surge of relief. Apparently he had said the right thing. He could feel the demon web loosening its grip, before sinking back into quietude.

  “Your sister?” Skye asked.

  “Yep. I’m from a large family,” he said. “Or rather, I was. We were twelve, but foster care knew that twelve was too many, and separated us. Sitting there, you looked just like Libby when she had an idea that would get us into trouble.”

  Her hurt completely forgotten, Skye leaned forwards, elbows on the table. “Oh?”

  Aries smiled, feeling a twitch of pain. “Libby had a big heart. She was always watching out for everyone, ready to play doctor if anyone got so much as a scrape. I remember one day, she talked most of us into being her patients while she practised. Leon was not happy, but he was always the serious sort.”

  “You keep saying ‘was’,” Skye said delicately, as Jack brought a steaming pot over and set it on the table.

  “I haven’t seen them all in so long,” Aries said wistfully. “They’re all alive, I have to believe that. One day, I might find them again.”

  “There’s a thought,” Jack said as he grabbed a ladle and began serving out generous servings of lasagne. “Maybe you could make an appeal on television, Skye. Good human interest story, right?”

  Aries shook his head. “I’m sure Skye has better things to talk about than me,” he told Jack, but caught the scrutinising glance Skye was giving him.

  When he had begun to tell his story, Aries had only meant it as an apology for his behaviour. But something made Skye the easiest person to talk to he had ever known. It had been on the edge of his tongue to tell her of the lecture that Leo had given them about their unbecoming angelic conduct. How Libra had laughed at him, and asked if he would deny her, her calling. How a flustered Leo, confused by their most quiet sister retorting, had found himself with a bandaged arm in short order.

  But if she could help him find them!

  His heart had been sore since that terrible night, and for all his efforts, he had never found them. Eventually he had given up, and settled on hope. But now...Skye could change that.

  Attuned to his fellow lightkeeper’s moods from working together so long, Jack took up the slack of dinnertime conversation, regaling Skye with anecdotes of life at the lighthouse.

  By the time dessert was finished and Jack was clearing the plates away, Aries had pulled himself out of his dark mood.

  “I didn’t intend to bring up bad memories,” Skye said softly. He could see the sympathy in her eyes.

  “Not bad memories, only sad ones,” Aries replied. “And more hope than I’ve had in a long time.”

  She shrugged and looked sheepish. “It’s not entirely out of the goodness of my own heart. It makes for good television.”

  “And you always have to be on the lookout for a good story?”

  “Keeps the bills paid.” She shrugged.

  “Well then, in the name of good hospitality, and if you’re feeling up to it, how about a tour?”

  “I’d love one.”

  “Anything to get out of the dishes, aye, Aries?” Jack called.

  “You know me so well,” Aries called back as he pulled Skye’s chair out for her.

  Outside, it was just starting to get dark, as the sun grew closer to the horizon. Out of long habit, Aries looked to find his star. It wasn’t shining yet, but he could feel it. There was only a slight chill in the air, and a gentle breeze tugged at his hair. He could hear the waves against the rocks, and smiled. Skye came up beside him.

  “You looked contented,” she said, peering up into his face.

  “Just reminded of how beautiful my home is,” he said quietly.

  “It certainly is,” Skye agreed.

  Aries gave her the very quick tour of the area, the lighthouse, the three cottages, the storage shed and the small kitchen garden. He introduced her to the government-sponsored flock of sheep, much to her amusement. He pointed out the forest that bordered the area and warned her of the long hike to the nearest ranger outpost.

  Finally he stopped, and focused his angelic sight on her. She seemed none the worse for wear, and seemed fit.

  “Would you like to see the beach?” he asked. “I’ll warn you now, it’s a tricky climb. Well worth it, though.”

  He was pleased with the quick way that Skye nodded her head. “I’d love to.”

  “I’ll go first, give you a helping hand if you need it.”

  The route down to the beach was mostly ladders, some wooden and some rope. Aries watched Skye cautiously as she descended, but he ended up awed by the skill she showed.

  “It’s like you’ve done it all your life,” he complimented her onc
e they stood in the lee of some of the largest rocks.

  “I’m not just a pretty face.” She smiled at him, a little mischievously.

  Aries cleared his throat roughly, more affected by that simple comment than he expected. To pull himself back together, he stepped out of the shelter of the rocks.

  “Welcome to the beach,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the surf.

  Above them the lighthouse towered into the sky, the huge cliffs creating sheets of spray as the waves crashed into them. It scented the air with salt, and a fine spray soon beaded their clothes. To the left stretched the beach, rocky with only a few patches of sand for about one hundred metres before it changed to sandy gravel. To the right were sheer cliffs, pocked with holes and caves from the power of the water. And straight ahead was the wide expanse of the ocean.

  As he stood in silence and let Skye drink in the sight, Aries did the automatic checks that he had done so many times before. There was nothing washing up on the wide expanse of beach that needed to be dealt with. There were only a few vessels visible, and none of them looked to be in any distress. The weather was clear, no signs of any storms rolling in. He took a deep breath. No demon taint on the breeze. All was quiet.

  “Is every night like this?” Skye asked, breaking the silence.

  “Most of them. It’s not as nice when there’s a storm brewing.”

  “I can imagine,” Skye murmured thoughtfully. “Where –” she began, before her voice caught in her throat. “Where did you pull me out?”

  “The other side.” Aries pointed towards the headland. “There’s a stretch of shingle there. We’ve already got the relevant bodies coming out to deal with it, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

  Skye looked towards the headland as if her eyes could bore through the heavy mass of rock that separated them. In the slowly growing darkness her face was pained. Slowly, Aries became aware of a creeping malignant hiss, itching at the edge of hearing. It sounded close, and when he turned to look at Skye, he could see why. The demon web was back, and its many strands crawled over her like ants. The hissing sound was the noise of the dark threads, twisting over and against each other. Now he could hear voices – or one singular voice uttering many words. Death, darkness, despair. Fear, pain, hurt. Alone, unloved, unwanted.