by Maggie Mundy
When they arrived back at the Enclave on Earth, Cameron dumped him into someone else’s arms. Then, as usual, he would be discarded onto the floor in the corner of the kitchen next to a bucket. No one cared for him. Midworlders arrived and carried on with their discussions in the kitchen, ignoring his presence. His stomach clenched as the bile rose in his throat and he vomited into the bucket. The others didn’t even clean up after him. The room spun, but the pain in his stomach eased. He would be left here until he could get rid of the mess.
When the retching stopped, he lay back. There was nothing left in his stomach, anyway. The cool floor beneath his head gave some relief as heat wafted over him. He yanked his shirt up to see the wounds were healing. Soon little red circles would appear so Liliath would know where to puncture next time. He needed to find a way so there would be no next time. Damn this world where he could heal and live on.
The fridge door slammed and someone opened a bottle. The smell of beer made Soren want to vomit again, and his head ached as if it would explode.
“So where’s the boss gone?” Virgil asked as he sat at the table and took a gulp of his beer.
Soren squinted as he peered up from the floor. Greg, another Midworlder, stood next to the counter making a roll.
“He has an itch and it needs scratching, or whipping most likely,” Greg said. “You noticed he doesn’t like to play on his own patch. He’s always the same when he comes back from Pergor.”
Virgil threw the pull ring from the beer can at Soren. “Don’t know why he bothers with the sick freak over there. Can’t fly or fight. About the only thing he’s any good at is puking, or fucking visitors. I reckon he should be put down like a sick puppy, if you ask me.”
Greg laughed. “Think Cameron would if he could. Heard Liliath’s using the ass for darts practice.”
“I’ve a job we need to do later when you’ve eaten.” Virgil finished his beer and belched. “It seems there could be a female without a Guardian. Think we can claim her for our side? Not our fault if the Angelics can’t look after their own.”
The chills started at Soren’s feet as his body went cold. Soon the darkness would swallow up his mind again. This time, he would let it take him and be damned with the consequence. No one cared if he lived or died, so he wouldn’t fight it anymore.
Chapter 2
Capture
Creepy intruders wandering about her front yard was all she needed. Thankfully, the woman on the phone said the police were on their way. Anne’s hands shook as she pushed the deadbolt across and leaned back against the door. Thank God for Aunt Elise’s security. When Anne grew up, she thought her aunt Crazy with a capital ‘C’. When she visited this house as a kid, it would take five minutes to undo all the alarms and locks on doors and windows. Adelaide wasn’t exactly a hotbed of violence and corruption, even if the Snowtown bodies in the barrels murders made the world newspapers a while back.
Anne jumped away from the front door as a loud bang reverberated through the house. Maybe the air-conditioning unit on the roof had blown up. It needed servicing, but with her aunt dying, it’d gone down in the list of priorities. If the kids across the street were throwing rocks at neighborhood cats again, she would give them what for in the morning. The families around here thought she was taking over from her crazy aunt anyway so she might as well go along with it.
One of the kids called her the blood witch the other day. Talk about being over-imaginative, thinking the red streaks in her blonde hair were blood. His mother jerked him away and made the sign of the cross as she stared back at Anne. The woman should have told her little shit not to be rude, but she didn’t, more the pity.
“Fuck,” Anne whispered.
The house shook and it sounded like someone with huge feet had landed on the roof. It was a 1920s art deco house with a flat roof. Right now she wished for a sloping aluminum one. Just so the bastard could slide right off.
Anne peered at the ceiling as she crept down the hallway. Following the path of the footsteps above, she tiptoed. She glanced at her watch. Almost midnight. What the hell? What sickies did this stuff to people? God knew why she tiptoed. The person on her roof wasn’t worried about being quiet.
“Breathe,” Anne whispered as she entered the kitchen and switched the light on. There was no one there, thank goodness. She tugged open the nearest drawer and grabbed the biggest carving knife she could find. Why couldn’t she have normal burglars like everyone else? Who the hell jumped on a roof to get in? She glanced at the skylight to see if they were going to try and break through. Nope.
As the steps above neared the back of the house, the knife shook in her hands. Maybe there was more than one of them. Well, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
She couldn’t hear the sirens, and yet it had to be ten minutes since she’d called the cops. Anne needed them now. Truth be known, she didn’t have much faith in the local police. When someone had stalked her in the past, they didn’t help. She got the impression they thought her another silly female. If the cops were here now, they would know she wasn’t making this up.
Someone jumped down by the back door, their boots grinding on the gravel. The outside light flicked on behind the person.
Anne would need an ambulance as well as the police if her heart didn’t stop pounding. Her hands were so sweaty she could hardly hold onto the knife. She worked one thing out pretty quickly. Whoever was out there was huge. His shape almost filled the back door. The knife seemed a useless defense now. A bloody great broad sword might have helped.
Anne shut her eyes for a moment and hoped beyond hope it was all an illusion. Her crazy visons were always full of bright angels, though. Not someone who was the size of a grizzly bear. She opened her eyes as he tried to turn the door handle. The locked door wouldn’t stop him. One shove by this steam-roller guy and he would break it down. Two other guys jumped from the roof and landed behind him. She knew one of them. He had been at her aunt’s funeral and she had wondered who he was. Where were the police? She still couldn’t hear any sirens. Her sweat chilled on her skin as she started to shiver.
The first guy yanked the screen door off and threw it aside. The back door came next as he hit it with his size-one-million boot. It hung off of one remaining hinge and then fell with a clang to the floor. The knife in her hand shook so much it appeared more like a string being twanged on a harp. The huge man moved forward, peered at the knife, and sneered. She reminded herself to breathe as air caught in her throat.
“Do you plan to use the knife or are you just waving it at me?”
The Russian accent on the big bear increased her fear. Like he was some stereotypical Eastern European thug from a movie. Her heart beat so fast she could feel it in her chest. Maybe she would die of a heart attack before he got to her.
“I called the police. They’ll be here any minute.”
He laughed and shook his head. “My friends will deal with them. Now, are you going to come with us willingly or do I have to knock you out? I don’t mind if you resist. It makes things more interesting.”
“Fuck you,” Anne yelled as she charged, aiming the knife at his chest.
He was literally next to her in a second. She hadn’t even seen him move from the other side of the kitchen table. His hand encircled hers which was holding the knife.
Anne stared at her hand, willing her fingers to keep hold of her only weapon. The knife fell and clattered to the floor, barely missing her feet.
Anne tried to thump her assailant in the face, but he brought his hand up and blocked her. The kick to the groin she tried to give him fared no better. She lashed out, hoping to make contact with any part of his body and inflict pain.
“Help. I’m being attacked,” Anne screamed. She lived in a suburb with big house blocks where people with money chose to ignore domestic disputes. No assistance would be
coming. Where the hell were the police when you needed them?
The big guy's henchman grabbed her arms as Mr. ‘I’m as big as a bear’ cupped her face with his hands. Somehow, she didn’t think he would be whispering sweet nothings. She wanted to spit in his face even though she hated spitting.
“My name’s Virgil, and you’re going to do what we tell you. If we meet anyone, you tell them we’re friends here to take you to see an ailing relative. You understand?”
When he stared at her, a sharp pain hit her temple like a needle stabbing. Did he think he could do some mind control trick on her or something? These guys were loopy as well as big. “Stuff you. I don’t have any relatives. They were all probably killed by assholes like you.”
Mr. Bear growled. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say, but she was on a losing streak to hell with these guys anyhow. If they raped her, she had every intention of finding another carving knife and chopping their dicks off and feeding them to any passing dog she could find.
Mr. Bear smirked at her. “You’re not getting anywhere near my dick, lady. I keep it for women better than you. Ones who have one of our kind attached to them. We’ll remedy the problem soon enough though and find you a new Guardian. Then who knows, you might get lucky.”
Anne didn’t understand what he was on about with the Guardian crap. Something else concerned her though. This creep could read her mind about chopping dicks. What the hell? She thrashed from side to side, trying to throw them off. It didn’t work. Anne screamed until she reckoned someone on the other side of the planet would hear her, let alone the neighbors. Nothing happened. Mr. Bear still held her head in his vise-like grip.
She couldn’t move or make a sound. What the fuck were they doing to her? She didn’t like being trapped inside her body one little bit. How did anyone have this kind of power apart from in the movies?
Without warning, the cops burst in with their guns drawn. Mr. Bear grinned as he let go of her face and turned to the police. He held his hands up. She didn’t think he was surrendering, somehow.
Anne opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The back of her throat burned as if she were breathing in hot desert air. She wanted to say, “Help me,” but the words forming in her mind were a jumble and nothing came out. Instead, Virgil spoke for her. Her head spun, and it took every bit of control not to pass out.
“I’m so sorry you’ve been called out under false pretenses. Anne would apologize, but she’s too distraught at the moment. Her aunt just died. We’re here to take her to see her uncle. He’s worried about her at such an emotional time.”
“We understand. It must have been our mistake,” the young policeman said as he lowered his gun.
Anne couldn’t believe the cops were falling for this. The two of them smiled gormlessly at Mr. Bear. Then she studied the policemen’s stances. Their arms were relaxed and the guns were back in their holsters. Were these guys controlling them the way they were controlling her?
“We’ll be on our way then,” the policeman said as he turned and left the kitchen.
Why were they going when these men were trying to abduct her?
Mr. Bear glared at her and then smirked. “Stop trying to fight us. We’re here to help you reach your full potential.”
If reaching her full potential meant any of these goons were going to touch her then she’d rather die. It took all her effort, but Anne managed to spit in his face. Mr. Bear wiped the spittle away. His jaw clamped and she could see the anger in his eyes. Anne braced herself. The result was a slap to the side of the head that made her brain reel.
The world around her went in and out of focus as he dragged her outside. Great, her legs decided to work now when she was once again being held in a vise-like grip. Mr. Bear guided her to the curb where a big black SUV waited.
Her throat stiffened, and breathing became difficult. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Her body kept moving even though her mind told it not to. Like a robot, she hastened toward the vehicle. The policeman smiled and waved at Mr. Bear as the patrol car drove away. There went her last hope of being saved. She didn’t understand what these guys wanted to do with her, but she knew it would not be good.
She could not stop this. All those years she’d thought her aunt and mom were crazy. It all came back to her in a hurry. The garbled information she’d listened to time and time again suddenly rang true.
Aunt Elise said there were good and bad angels out there. This guy said something about a Demonic Guardian. That didn’t sound good. Anne wanted to scream again for the neighbors to come, but her throat clenched, so she couldn’t utter a word. She wanted to cry, because she couldn’t stop the bad shit about to go down. She wasn’t the crying sort and would not give in. Her body might not be working for her, but her mind still was. She could only hope these guys hadn’t noticed yet.
Anne couldn’t feel her body. Was her heart still racing? Did she want to vomit? She didn’t know anymore as her brain felt completely detached. Anne closed her eyes and fought to center herself as Virgil shoved her into the SUV.
Inside the vehicle, people talked, but the words blurred together. Were they discussing her? She should try to focus and see where they were taking her. Her arm stung. Anne turned her head. The effort to do such a simple action felt like dragging a tire through the mud. She watched as Virgil withdrew the needle from her arm. She couldn’t stop staring at the spot of blood where the needle exited.
Whoever these guys were, they were clearly the dregs of society. If Virgil and his thugs represented the bad guys, she had to believe the good guys Aunt Elise talked about existed too.
Anne’s eyes begin to fill with tears. If this was the darkness her aunt had spoken of, she didn’t have time for sadness. Her aunt had also spoken of dreams where she used to be overwhelmed with happiness. Maybe this was all a hallucination.
Maybe it was the weed she smoked occasionally. She hadn’t taken the medicinal marijuana for weeks, though. Not since her last turn.
Anne closed her eyes and was surprised to find an angel in her mind’s eye. Well, she guessed it might be an angel though it seemed more like a pretty white pixie squinting at her. Now, after all these years, her pixie was back. She hadn’t seen it since being a crazy ten-year-old. Back then, she thought it the imaginings of a child. A child who wanted to escape the reality of a dead mother and mad aunt?
What do you require of me?
She could hear the voice clear in her head and it sounded as if tinkly symbols accompanied it.
Stop these dickheads from taking me came to mind first. She probably needed better negotiating skills. Anne hadn’t believed any of this angels and demons shit her aunt wailed on about. If the good guys were for real, then surely they could come to her rescue now. She sent out a message to the pixie, hoping she would get it.
If any of you are light and good out there, then come and save me. Because some heavy shit with guys talking about Demonics is going down.
Mr. Bear twisted Anne’s body in her seat. With his face in front of her, the image of the pixie disappeared. Damn.
“Stop trying to send messages to Angelics. Trust me, they won’t help you. All they want is to stop humans from being what is their true form. Humans all want what they can get for themselves. No one will help you. Soon we’ll get a nice little Demonic Guardian for you, and everything will be back the way it should be.”
How did he know about the pixie? Had she done anything? Anne wanted to concentrate on where they were going, but her surroundings became fuzzy and it was harder to concentrate. Her head felt like it wobbled on her shoulders. She wanted to giggle. Maybe the drugs were taking effect. Someone was a naughty boy, and she wanted to wag her finger at Mr. Bear.
Anne peered outside and struggled to recognize the streets, but everything moved so fast. The streetlights twinkled like pretty stars, a
nd she put her hand up to try and touch them.
The car turned into a driveway, and she flopped sideways against Virgil. She chuckled, and he shook his head at her. Had she done something wrong? The driveway seemed to go on forever, and she couldn’t see the streetlights anymore. The car stopped. Mr. Bear yanked her out and scooped her into his arms. She glanced up to see a grand old sandstone house. The large front door opened, and more people were waiting for her. She waved at them, but they all appeared grumpy and didn’t wave back.
The lights inside the house made her squint. The chandelier in the hallway glittered and sparkled. She smiled and couldn’t remember why she was here. Who was carrying her? She didn’t recognize the man’s face. She yawned as tirdeness ovwerwhelmed her. Why couldn’t he just let her sleep? He carried her up a staircase and into a room. This wasn’t her bedroom, and there were bars on the windows.
There furniture consisted of a small table and a bed pushed up against the wall. The man dumped her on the bed, shook his head in what she assumed was disgust, and left the room. She heard the click of the door as he locked it. He must be delusional if he thought she had the energy to do anything. A part of her brain kept saying she should leave, but her eyelids were heavy, and she needed to sleep.
Everything became dark around her, and she tried to touch a wall or something to get her bearings. She remembered lying on a bed, but now she was standing. Was she dreaming? It all felt so real, even the way her heart beat so fast and the thump-thump sound in her ears.
Anne flinched. Someone screamed in the darkness. It sounded like they were in terrible pain. As a kid, she’d broken her leg falling off of her bike. She had screamed with a similar ferocity back then. Anne peered into the darkness. The scream came again, and she sensed the direction was to her left. With her arms outstretched, she moved forward, hoping she wouldn’t bump into a wall or fall over a body. The person sounded like they were in enough pain without her landing on them.
