by Ash Krafton
"No, Jagger—you don't have to say anymore."
He gritted his teeth. “The angelic host that came for my mom's soul protected me and put me in a safe home. Eranil raised me."
She nodded at the sound of the name but remained silent.
"When I was old enough to know the truth, they told me. I can't figure that out. Why do that to a kid? I was a baby when all that shit happened. I didn't have to know.”
“You can't hide from a legacy like that," she said. "Even if they didn’t tell you, you'd have found out. You have a twin. You are connected.”
“Don't I know it. He found me. And he was a bastard about it. I knew one thing—I'd kill him one day for killing our mother."
Sonya bit her lips. It was hard to reconcile the two versions of Jagger: the man he claimed to be and the man she wanted to believe he truly was.
He rolled his head on the pillow and avoided her eyes. "He was never meant to be anything but demon. My humanity makes me weak. I had to work harder at everything because I only have one foot in the world. I'll hunt demons until I die and then I'll die knowing I did everything I could to stop them."
She traced her fingers over the lines above his heart. "That's quite a story for the scar. I knew there would be one, but I didn't expect that. Well."
She leaned down to kiss his chest.
Alarmed, he pushed her shoulders back up. "I told you. I don't want you to erase it."
"I wasn't erasing it." She smiled at him with a radiance to rival she sun. "I was blessing it. That scar is a sign of true love. I hope you always have it."
ANGELS
Nearly a month passed.
The calls came in more frequently, sending him out night after night.
When he returned at dawn, she healed him before allowing him to topple her into bed. He loved her savagely, seeming to try to put distance between the horrors of the battle he waged each night.
He sought sanctuary with her, and sought it whenever he could.
Whenever their flesh met, a current passed between them, a spark jumping between their polarities. Opposites attracted, all right. They attracted and singed each other with their hunger.
His lovemaking left her exhausted, a lazy kind of languor she was beginning to relish. If only she could get him to lie with her a bit longer before dressing and going back downstairs.
Jagger hunched over the side of the bed, dragging his boots closer and shoving his feet inside. She watched him from her recline on the pillows, still buzzing with the contentment that lying with him brought.
His boots strapped, he slapped his thighs. "Well, babe, Time to work. Sun's going down and the creepies will be coming out to play."
"You have a job tonight?" She hadn't remembered Enzo mentioning one. Then again, Enzo didn't speak about work when she was around. He didn't speak much, period. Despite having accepted her into their space, he never dropped his guard.
"Not yet, I don't. I have a feeling I'm gonna get lucky, though." Jagger stooped to hook his jacket from where it lay in a heap on the floor. "There's been a job or an event every night for the past three weeks."
"Maybe not," she said. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. "Maybe you can stay in tonight."
"You okay?" He turned at the door, peering intently at her. "Your voice sounds funny."
Her body had changed quite a bit recently, she mused, but she doubted it would show in her voice. "I'm fine. Just—wanted to talk, is all."
"Don't worry, Sunny, I'll be fine." He came back to sit on the bed, pressing his forehead against hers. "I've been doing this a long time."
"It's not that. I need to tell you something."
"Then tell me," he said with a laugh, sitting back. "What's all the drama about?"
"Jag." She reached for his hand. "I'm—"
The phone rang downstairs.
His arm tensed beneath her touch and he turned to glance at the door.
A moment later, Enzo called up the stairs. "Hey, buddy. Time to work!"
"Sunny." He shook his head, looking almost apologetic. "I have to go."
She swallowed hard and looked away. "I know."
"Hey. We'll talk as soon as I get back. 'kay?"
She nodded. "Okay."
"Later, babe." His boots made a hollow sound as he clumped down the narrow staircase.
Sonya swung her feet over the edge of the bed and crossed the room to where a floor-length mirror was bolted to the wall. She regarded her nude body, smoothing back her tousled hair and running her hands down her arms, across her breasts. The movement came to a halt when her hands reached her abdomen.
She sighed.
Heavy tears slid down her cheeks and she wiped them away with her fingers. "Just wanted to let you know… I figured out what my mission is."
DEMONS
One evening, the air in town felt—charged, for lack of a better word. Jagger sensed an energy on the wind, a silent vibe that made every vein in his body quiver. His demon blood detected it. He did his best to ignore it.
It'd be easier to ignore it if Sonya hadn't felt it, too.
"Something is coming." Sonya paced the floor again, sidestepping a squeaky board she'd discovered on an earlier pass.
"I can feel it. A storm?"
"No." She looked out the window at the gathering dusk. Sunset's warmth washed the sides of the buildings outside. "A person. He's looking for you."
Jagger scowled and yanked a strap tighter around his chest. His holster fit better now that he didn't have to baby that shoulder tendon. If one could actually call it babying; he never gave it any rest, despite its stiffness.
Wearing the holster this way felt better. His shoulder felt better.
He stole a glance at Sonya, who'd paused in front of the windows to peer out. His gaze traced the familiar curves of her body, her creamy skin awash with the glow of the sunset.
Everything felt better now.
"Someone is always looking for me." Jagger smirked and pulled the rune sword out of the scabbard. "I seem to be on a lot of shit lists in this town."
"Don't joke, Jagger." She cast a stern glance over her shoulder at him. "This is different."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." The word sounded odd the moment he said it, hanging awkwardly in the air. Jagger wasn't used to apologizing. "Hey. I'll go down and grab us something from the cooler. Mango pop?"
He nodded when he saw her sudden smile. "Right. I'll be right back."
Jagger grabbed his gloves and tugged them on while trotting down the steps. Crossing the office, he walked over to an ice box in the corner. He'd only opened the chest when he noticed the smell.
It wasn't coming from the freezer.
"Son of the betrayer." The voice was little more than a gurgle. "I've come for you."
Jagger spun, gun in hand, eye-blink fast, spying the demon.
It heaved and glistened. And dripped.
Great, Jagger thought. A wet demon. "You slimy bastard, you ruined my chair. Let's see how much you like being in pieces."
"I will end the rebellion." A chorus of voices moaned as one. "And I will take my reward."
Seventh ring of hell, at least, thought Jagger. Anything lesser couldn't group together like that.
His suspicion didn't last long, because the demon split into a group of smaller demons that circled him. Jagger bounced from foot to foot, watching as they converged.
There was no way out.
They closed, rejoined into a sold mass, trapping Jagger in its center. It was like being swallowed by a compost heap. Its surface was a sticky glob of stink and it oozed around him, pulling him in, trapping him.
Devoured by a blob. Just great.
"Ugh!" Inside, he could vaguely see out of the gelatinous prison. The walls were rubbery, resisting his attacks. His punches bounced off, and he slid down the side when he tried to shoulder-ram it. Where were his weapons?
Still upstairs in Sunny's room. Aw, shit. Of all days to parade around naked. Jagger
spun in place, looking for a weak spot in the trap but not finding any. "Lemmee out!"
The floor trembled and the door rocked open as Ionis charged through, yelling his partner's name.
"No use!" Jagger rammed into the side of the demon and bounced back. It was like running into a gelatin mold. "It's charmed! Find my sword!"
"Sword?" The demon chortled. "You jest, half-breed. You cannot breech me. Only the blood of Tallon can enter my prison; no one can escape."
"Oh, will you shut up, already. Ionis! It's upstairs!"
ANGELS
The sudden sound of gunfire made Sonya look up. Without thinking, she grabbed Jagger's sword and raced for the door.
"Jagger?" Sonya ran down the steps. "Where are you?"
"Sunny! No! Get out!" His voice was muffled by the thickness of the demon.
"Stay back, little lady." Ionis spread his arms, forming an effective wall. If she were human, that was.
She had to stand on her toes to see Jagger deep in the eerie green bowels of the demon. "He said the blood of Tallon."
"That doesn't mean it won't kill you." Ionis herded her back toward the staircase.
She ducked under his arm and ran toward the demon. It heaved and turned, watching her, grunting with exertion. Sonya remained out of reach, careful not to get too close to the tendrils that anchored it to the floor and, subsequently, this plane. "I have your sword!"
Sonya looked over at the mountainous Ionis, a subtle golden glow starting under her skin. "I'm sorry, but you have to move now, Ionis."
He backed up, one step, two. Faint alarm lifted his brows. "You shouldn't."
She closed her eyes. The glow seeped out, engulfing her. "Now, Ionis."
The big man backed away another step as the glow extended around her, giving the impression of folded wings. Her eyes took on the same golden sheen. The light built to a painful intensity. She stood a moment, amping up her Seraph power.
Her wings unfurled and, with it, a pulse of divine power.
Ionis dove toward the desk but he wasn't quick enough to avoid getting caught in the blast. Sonya's energy snapped out like a super nova, stunning the demon and paralyzing its tentacles. Ionis took the blast from the back. The force knocked him off his feet and shoved him clear to the wall.
Deftly, she slid the sword free from its scabbard and plunged her other hand deep into the demon's mass. It cracked like a thick gel.
Sonya shoved harder, sliding in up to her shoulder, and ripped downward. Using her foot she widened the breech, standing half-in, half-out of the demon's belly.
"Here!" She pushed the sword through. "Take it, Jagger!"
Jagger pulled the sword free from her grasp. As it slipped from her fingers, her energy level sapped, the room growing dim.
Sonya knew nothing more.
DEMONS
Jagger grabbed the sword from Sonya and shoved her out of the demon's side. With a cry, he drove the enchanted blade into the closing chasm. The demon screamed in impotent rage as Jagger did what he did best: pure slaughter.
It was foul work but he hacked himself free, finding the heart chamber and shattering it. When the heart broke, the demon exploded, erupting in a shower of putridity that coated everything in the room.
Jagger stood in the remains of his assailant, panting and surveying the room, alert for any part of the demon that may have survived. Nothing but quivering green demon stench.
A noise from the far side of the room took Jagger's attention. Ionis groaned and pulled his knees toward his chest. He'd survived worse, Jagger thought. If he's breathing, he'll live.
Right now, there was another—
Jagger called Sonya's name, spinning on his heels, searching for her. She lay crumpled, unconscious in a watery puddle of demon muck. He dropped to his knees and pulled her shoulder to turn her onto her back. Her head rolled, limp. He yanked off his gloves and felt her throat.
A pulse? There! Jagger wanted to scream with relief. His breath was ragged, the air burning his throat. Gently he gathered her up and carried her upstairs. The compass glowed like a star through her soiled blouse, lighting the dim stairwell like a ghost light.
DEMONS
The hours dragged by in a torment. Painful. Agonizing. The wait was a new kind of torture for Jagger. He hurried to his feet when he heard the doctor's footsteps on the stairs.
Grayden and Jagger went back a long way. The doctor was a neutral—didn't care much for alignment one way or another. Jagger rarely called him in for professional services, since his demon blood gave him a certain measure of indestructibility.
Right now, Jagger hoped the Seraphim had the same kind of health plan. "So?"
Grayden closed the door to the apartment steps carefully behind him. He shrugged and removed his glasses, wiping the perspiration from his brow.
"She's resting." Grayden poured a cup of coffee from the machine in the corner before settling in the desk chair. "What do you know about that rock she wears? That crystal thing with the wire?"
"I guess it's a throwback to her hippie days."
"I'm serious."
"Fine, fine." He shook his head and ruffled his hair. "She said it's a compass that lights up when it gets close to the blood of Tallon."
"And does it glow around you?"
"Yeah. Apparently my brother's been around, too."
Grayden drew his brows together. "Does the glow go out when you're not around?"
"She said so, yeah. What with the twenty questions?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe…everything." He took a shallow sip and grimaced at the bitter brew. "'Cause when I checked on her just now, it was lit."
Jagger was at the door in a heartbeat.
"Easy!" Grayden stopped him before he could charge up the stairs. "There's no one up there. I warded the room. No magic, demon, contrived, or otherwise, will break the cloaking. She's fine."
"She's fine, safe, or fine, healthy, unhurt, perfectly fine?"
Grayden laughed. "You should see your face. I never saw you worry about anyone before. It's comical."
"I'm not joking."
"I know. Look. We've known each other a long time. We've been through a hell of a lot together. You know if anyone on this plane has your back, it's me."
"Then grab a gun and let's go. If that crystal is lit, Acheron is around."
"He's not, Jagger."
"Whatever." He shouldered Grayden out of the way. "I'm going up."
She stirred when he opened the door, raising her hand from the bed. So weak. And so pale against her golden hair, the thin blue line of vein just beneath the skin giving her the look of porcelain. Deep bruises ringed her eyes. She looked so…human.
She struggled to speak but her voice was a rasp. Jagger shushed her, leaning to brush his lips against hers. He smoothed her hair back and stroked her cheek, watching her drift back to sleep before he could say a word.
There'd be time for that later. Jagger sank into the chair next to her bed, holding her delicate hand in his.
Jagger's neck hurt from sleeping in the chair and when he shifted, it caught, stiffer than a year-old corpse. Shit. She'd wanted him to lie down next to her but he was afraid he'd crush her. She needed rest.
Groaning, he rubbed his eyes. "Last time I do that, Sunny. I woke up on stone floors feeling better than this."
No answer. He dropped his voice to a hush, but he wasn't used to whispering. "Still sleeping? Poor girl."
Uncrossing his legs, he leaned forward. The room was shrouded in the muted tones of early morning, the new sunrise not yet clearing the city buildings. Everything was awash in soft gray and blue and pink: the curtains, the vase on the table near the window, the bedspread—
The empty bed.
Gone.
He didn't find the note until much later.
Jagger had searched the building and the surrounding blocks and the old church tower for her, returning empty handed. Not a trace of her, of anyone, anything. The air hurt to breathe.
He did
n't find the note until he came back, defeated and angry and frustrated, and sat on her bed, wondering how he'd gotten so stupid that she could have been snatched right out from under his nose.
A note—
I put you in danger. They found you because of me. You're better off if I go.
DEMONS
Enzo stood in the doorway, for the first time at a loss for words. Maybe because Jagger never knew grief before. Enzo had no clue what to say.
Rage? Violence? Self-loathing? Sure. But not grief.
Jagger sat on the empty bed, his back to the door. "Why, Enzo?"
"Blood of Tallon, Jagger. She reached right through that thing when bullets got stuck, and Ionis bounced off."
"She used magic. I saw the flash."
"I know you don't want to hear this, Jagger," Enzo said. "But there's only one explanation. She's got Tallon's blood, too."
"Don't say it." Jagger's gritted teeth sliced the words into a hiss.
"Didn't Grayden tell you her crystal glows all the time?"
"What?"
"She wore the amulet all the time, kid. And it glowed all the time, whether you were around or not. She's gone, man. You have to forget her."
Jagger was sure he didn't hear him right. But didn't Grayden try to tell him something? Did he know? Did he know and not tell him? Oh, fuck.
Terror filled him, a white streak of tremor that shook him to the core. It couldn't be true. He wouldn't let it be. Jagger sequestered the idea, his fear, and he stomped it down. Twisted it, turned it into something useful. Fury.
Fury was a liquid emotion that flowed through his veins, touching parts of his nature he'd never allowed to run wild. Fury awoke parts of his nature he'd long ago learned to quiet and ignore.
Fury wanted a target.
Jagger's breathing stopped as the demon blood took over. His skin paled, alabaster white, as if life simply drained out of him. He rolled his shoulders, set his feet, and smiled.
Enzo knew that look and knew well enough that it wasn't a time for words.
It was time to get out of the man's way.
Months passed in a bloody blur as Jagger threw himself into his work, becoming reckless and more dangerous than ever. He hunted, for demons and for her. So many false leads and dead ends.
