by Amy Braun
I almost laugh. Like I’m going to tell him that. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. You’re not archangels, that much is certain. Seraphs maybe?”
“What do you want with the Nephilim?” Auburn parrots.
“Bring her out here and I’ll tell you.”
“Do not attempt to fool us, hellspawn,” Bleach says sharply, taking a step forward.
“I already have,” I grin maliciously.
Bleach punches me in the head, snapping it to the side. I don’t feel any pain, but the vessel will. I just sit back and enjoy the taste of human blood in my mouth.
“Whoa, hey, you said you weren’t going to hurt her!” the kid shouts.
“We must find out what the plan is,” he says, drawing back his fist again.
Green Eyes steps forward and grabs Bleach’s arm. “That’s enough,” he says fiercely. “She’s possessed, so exorcise her.”
“You do not understand the implications of that request, slayer,” Bleach says, clearly not liking that he has to explain himself to a lesser being. “Attacking a Nephilim is a direct threat to Heaven. The demons are planning something, and we must uncover what it is, no matter what the cost.”
He tries to pull away from Green Eyes, but the human doesn’t let go. “I won’t stand here and condone her torture.”
I chuckle. “Look at you boys, fighting over me. You’re making me blush.”
Bleach holds out his other hand and blasts me full in the chest with heavenfire. It blazes deep through the vessel into me, and I make sure to scream long and loud. The other humans in the motel might not be able to hear me, but the halfbreed will. She’s probably crying buckets right now, wherever she’s hiding. If it weren’t for the damn trap and the damn angels, I could call more demons. But that would make things easy.
“Perhaps there is another way,” says Auburn before Green Eyes can throw a punch at the blond angel. Bleach looks at him. “It is possible the vessel Constance Ramirez will remember her possession. As such, she might be able to tell us what Ohzlan knows.”
Oh crap.
I pull on the cuffs, even though I knew I wouldn’t get free. I’m in trouble now.
“It is worth a try,” Auburn continues. “She is important to the Nephilim.”
Bleach finally jerks away from Green Eyes. He’s pouting. “Very well. You may try. But if it does not work, we shall continue with my method.”
Auburn inclines his head in agreement, then looks at the kid and the slayer. “Are you schooled in exorcism?”
The kid nods. “I know a little bit.”
The green-eyed slayer nods as well, but says nothing.
The angel walks toward me, pulling back the cuffs of his sleeves. “Perform the exorcism. The vessel will scream, but you must not stop, no matter what. Ohzlan is a powerful Possessor, and has likely placed a trap on your friend. Removing it will be difficult.”
The kid looks nervous. “Is it going to hurt Constance?” he asks.
“Yes,” he replies heavily. “But we shall heal her. She will live. I swear on the sword of Michael, archangel and commander of the Heavenly Host.”
Wow. That’s a tall order for this pretty Seraph to fill. The Oath of Michael is not something angels use unless they mean business. Auburn looks at me, his blue eyes glowing electrically as he focuses his power.
“Begin,” he instructs.
The kid takes a breath and begins chanting. I wince as the words of God burn me, blessing the vessel and trying to pull me out. I hook onto the woman in the trap and hold on tight. I always wanted to make an angel break the Oath of Michael, and this whole operation has turned into a disaster. If making the angels kill the halfbreed’s sister is the only compensation I can get, then I’ll damn sure take it.
Auburn’s hands are glowing with gold light, his heavenly power clashing with my hell power. I grit my teeth and dig into the mortal soul again. I’m ripping and tearing and doing as much damage as I can. The angel reaches out, his hands glowing a bright gold, and touches my forehead.
I scream as white-hot fire pours into the vessel, slowly severing me from the human. He works delicately, snipping away the threads of possession I had so carefully made to tie me to Constance Ramirez. It’s like stitches are being cut away from a deep gash, stinging and burning every nerve as they’re torn away. I grip her soul and hold on mercilessly, letting her feel an excruciating pain she’s never felt before. One that will leave scars on her soul.
Whether it takes minutes or hours, I can’t tell, but the angel has severed my connection to Constance. He leaves her in agony, but intact. I can feel myself being pulled up and out of the vessel, my demonic scream tearing through the throat that had once belonged to me. Oxygen and vile angelic presence swirl around me…
Then a crushing wave of pain hit me, and I screamed until I passed out.
***
I don’t know how long it was before I woke again. When I did, I felt like I’d been set on fire, thrown down a cliff, then crushed for good measure. I was lying on a comfortable bed, but even that hurt. Didn’t matter what I did– breathing, blinking, existing– the pain refused to leave. I could tell it wasn’t a physical pain, though. It was a pain deep in my soul, as if someone had sliced me open, stuffed something acidic inside me, sewn me up, then torn me open again to take it out. I vowed never to let myself get possessed again. I wouldn’t survive it.
I wasn’t alone. Someone was lying in the bed beside me, and while moving my neck felt like I was tearing apart the bruised tendons in it, I turned my head to see who it was.
Dro looked wretched. Her eyes were completely red from tears, her face paler than usual, her hair tangled and knotted. She was lying next to me under the blankets, snuggled close like she used to do as a kid when she was scared. She felt me moving and looked up. Her eyes widened before she threw her arms around me.
The hug felt like she’d slapped all my internal bruises at once, but I held her tightly. We both needed it.
“It’s okay, Dro, I told her. “I’m okay. It’s gone.” I prayed she couldn’t hear the tremble in my voice. I must not have done a good job, because Dro let out a shaking breath and hugged me tighter.
“You are awake,” a new voice said.
I slowly looked up and saw the angel with auburn hair, the one who did the exorcism with Max, staring at Dro and me. Recent memories started coming back. Their plan was to make me remember what happened under my possession, and they’d done too good of a job. I remembered everything I did, everything I said, and everything I felt. It was coming in quick flashes, but it was there. I almost wished it wasn’t.
“I trust that you are well,” he said.
I recalled the sensation of my body burning from the inside out, the smoky darkness that drowned my soul before capturing and torturing it. I finally understood why people screamed so much during exorcisms.
“That’s not exactly the word I would use,” I muttered.
“We completely destroyed the demon when he exited your body. He shall not return.”
I guess he said it to comfort me, but it didn’t take away the horrible memories of being locked in my own body, trapped under a net that seemed to have been made of razors. I could still feel them slicing deep whenever I tried to escape the possession, the pain so horrific it would have cut me to the bone if it had been physical.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, even though I didn’t look in his eyes.
The angel didn’t seem bothered by my reaction. He didn’t have any expression at all. He looked down at Dro, who was still clinging to me. “She has not left your side since the end of the exorcism. She healed your injuries and refused to eat or sleep.”
I stroked Dro’s hair. “I know. She’s stubborn like that.”
Dro pulled back from me then sat up. “You were out for two days,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “We thought you’d gone into a coma.”
Images of Max, a pissy blond angel, and a green-eyed demon slayer flashed through my mind. “Where’s everyon
e else? Is Max okay?”
She nodded. “He’s all right. I healed him.”
I was grateful, but there was one more person I needed to know about. I swallowed. “Manny?”
Tears filled in Dro’s eyes. She shook her head. Heartache pierced me, yet another injury added to my soul. I quickly replaced it with anger, hoping Drake had died horribly, and very, very, slowly at the hands of a demon or six.
The door to the motel room opened and the rest of the group entered– Max, the white blond angel, and the green-eyed demon slayer. They all seemed surprised to see me awake, but only Max was happy about it. He smiled and raced across the room to sit on the other side of the bed.
“About time,” he said. “How was your stay in La-La-Land?”
I gave him a sarcastic smile. “Not as comfortable as it sounds.”
He flinched a little, but clasped my hand. “I’m glad you’re okay, Constance,” he said. He read my eyes, then grinned. “Screw it, I’m freaking relieved,” he threw his arms around me and hugged me.
I grimaced at the next round of pain, then patted him on the back. It was a relief to know he’d made it, and he was able to find us. Max pulled away and shifted on the bed so he could put his arm around Dro’s shoulders. Sorrow was still raw on her face, and he looked like he needed someone to hang onto as well.
I looked at the other three men in the room. The two angels were expressionless, but the slayer didn’t look happy. That was a shame because if he would have relaxed, I would have appreciated his eyes even more. They were amazing, the color of leaves under the sun.
“Do the three strangers have names?” I asked, keeping my eyes on all of them.
“Yeah,” Max said. He pointed to the auburn-haired angel. “That’s Sephiel,” he pointed to the white blond angel, “Rorikel,” his finger moved to the slayer, “and that’s John Warrick. I called him then used a little precognition to see where you were. He’s the emergency demon slayer my dad knew.”
Pain filled Max’s voice. He wasn’t looking at me, and I wasn’t eager to meet his eyes either. It was still hard for me to accept that Manny was gone. I composed myself as the three of them stared at me. I focused on the slayer, Warrick.
“So you guys do exist after all,” I said wryly. “How much do you know?”
He didn’t even blink. “Max told me all of it.”
“We are Seraphim,” said Rorikel, overriding anything else the demon slayer might have added. “We have been instructed by Heaven to take up our vessels on earth and watch over the Nephilim you call Dro.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We are her protectors.”
“So that’s why you were following us.”
Sephiel’s face still looked blank, but Rorikel frowned. He probably didn’t think I’d seen them on the rooftops after I’d summoned the Red. There wasn’t a lot of trust going around right now, and I was almost okay with that.
“But what are you supposed to protect her from? I don’t know if you noticed, but you weren’t exactly helpful the last few years when demons were fucking up our lives.”
A muscle in Rorikel’s wide jaw twitched. “We have guarded her more than you realize, human. We have defended you from horrors you cannot begin to comprehend.”
“I was just possessed by a fucking demon,” I said bitterly. “I can comprehend quite a bit. What do you really want with her?”
“To protect her,” said Sephiel. His tone wasn’t robotic like Rorikel’s. He seemed sincere, like Manny had been. Maybe another woman would have taken a chance and trusted him outright. But I wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet. Not when I knew nothing about this person or his intentions.
“Why? What’s so special about Nephilim?”
“They–”
“Sephiel,” Rorikel interrupted. “This is neither the time nor the place.”
“Yes it is,” I countered. “Tell us.”
Rorikel gave me a steely look. “You have obtained knowledge from the Possessor demon known as Ohzlan. Reveal what you have discovered.”
“Why should I, when you aren’t going to tell me what I want to know?”
He narrowed his creepy, pale eyes. I started to wonder what mental powers Seraphim had. Having my brain fried by an angel after it had just been controlled by a demon was something that would absolutely kill me.
“We cannot tell you, but we must tell the Nephilim,” said Sephiel. “And it is apparent to me that you will not leave her side, as she will not leave yours.” He looked at Max. “Nor shall you, it seems,” he looked at Warrick, “and John Warrick is a demon slayer. He must have knowledge of angels.”
I glanced at Warrick. He looked impassive. I turned away from his intense green eyes when Rorikel began to argue with Sephiel.
“They are mortals, Sephiel. Their involvement in the matters of Heaven is expressly forbidden.”
“You heard Ohzlan. There is something we do not know, and perhaps their experience with demons shall provide us with the information we truly need.” Sephiel’s blue eyes became serious. “We do not have time to argue politics and semantics.” He looked at me. “Tell us what you remember, Constance, and we shall tell you what you wish to know.”
He gave me that sincere look of his, and I wanted to trust him. I could use the power of Heaven on my side. Trust didn’t come easy for me, but what other options was I supposed to have?
I pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to think about being a prisoner in my own body again. I didn’t want to think about the crushing, severing pain that tore into me when Ohzlan refused to give me up. But mostly I didn’t want to remember the horrible things he made me say to Dro. The look on her face as he lied to her, when she didn’t realize I was trapped inside myself, screaming none of it wasn’t true. I took a deep breath, and tried not to shake.
“The demons want to open the Gates of Hell and escape to earth.” I looked at Dro. “Using her blood.”
Dro gaped. Max pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her as if that was all he needed to do to keep her safe. It was heartbreakingly sweet, and I wish it had been enough. I looked at the angels, who were still unreadable.
“Who’s bringing them over to do that?” Warrick asked. “There aren’t many cults capable of summoning that many demons at one time.”
“They were summoned by some kind of witch,” I said. “I didn’t get a name.” I paused, then went on. “I don’t think Ohzlan knew how it worked. He was on a need-to-know basis.”
Sephiel frowned. “That is worrisome.”
Rorikel nodded. “Very troublesome.”
I could feel a headache forming behind my eyes. These angels were going to get on my nerves very quickly. I looked at Dro, who hadn’t moved from Max’s arms. Not that he had any intention of letting her go if he didn’t have to. Holding her was just as much a comfort for him as it was for my sister.
“There’s something else,” I said quietly. Everyone was looking at me, but I was focused on Dro. “I don’t… I don’t think that Dro is Nephilim.”
I hated the heavy silence that followed.
“What do you mean?” Max asked. “We checked, and her powers are weird but it’s the only thing that makes sense–”
“Ohzlan said we weren’t using the phrase ‘Nephilim’ properly. He never strictly said what she was, but he knew she wasn’t a Nephilim.” I looked at my sister. “You might be something else.”
She looked like she was going to be sick, turning and burying herself in Max’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, little sister,” I said, meaning it with every bit of my heart.
“Demons are false more often than not,” Rorikel said sourly. “The Nephilim called Dro is simply that, a Nephilim. Born of angel and human and destined for glorious purpose.”
“Which is what?” I asked.
Sephiel faced me. “The Nephilim are the vessels for the archangels,” he explained. “Angels cannot take corporeal forms on earth. We must gain permission to enter a human’s
body to use our powers. Many times we appear in dreams and ask the vessel’s concession. Sometimes a human may realize what we are and reject us. When an archangel asks a Nephilim, however, it is much more difficult for them to decline.”
The pieces started to fit together slowly. “So, an archangel wants to use Dro’s body?”
He nodded. “Through her, the spirit of the archangel will flow and give tremendous power to combat Hell’s forces.”
“It is as great an honor as a half human could receive,” Rorikel added.
“What would happen if I said no?” Dro asked quietly.
Rorikel looked at her and frowned, his pale eyes hard. “It is not wise. The archangels do not take kindly to insult.”
“Is that a threat?” I said aggressively.
“Not at all,” he replied. “Merely a statement.” He looked at Dro again. “I highly suggest you surrender yourself to your archangel when the time comes. They are resilient beings.”
I was about to speak, but Dro had seen my eyes and cut me off. “How would I even know when they would want me? Assuming I’ll do what they ask.”
“Anyone with angel blood in their veins has a connection to Heaven, to other angels and Nephilim through a telepathic link,” Sephiel said.
“You guys can read each others minds and communicate mentally?” Max asked.
Sephiel nodded once. “It is how the archangels will coordinate their attacks against the demons should the need ever arise. They will create a plan to strike the demons from earth.”
“What about us humans? Would we be caught in the crossfire?” Warrick said.
Rorikel glanced at him. “The archangels would be saving your world. Collateral damage is irrelevant.”
Warrick looked like he was going to hit Rorikel. As much as I wanted to see a demon slayer throw down with an angel, we had bigger problems. I looked at Sephiel. At least I could actually get answers from him.
“Ohzlan felt that Dro was powerful,” I said. “More powerful than anything he’d ever encountered.”
Sephiel seemed to know what I was asking without having me asked it. He nodded. “We will protect you,” he said, looking at Dro. “Keeping the children of angels safe is a sacred duty.”
