Angel's Kiss

by Melanie Tomlin

  “You’ve got me there,” he laughed, then grinned wickedly. “The few I’ve had the pleasure of dealing with haven’t been able to tell lies to save themselves. Yet you’re different to Danizriel and the others. How so?”

  “Long story,” I replied.

  “I like a good story, and a long one even more so. Go on,” Drake said encouragingly, “we’re in no hurry now. We have time.”

  I looked to Danny and he nodded in agreement.

  “You know who changed me, Drake,” I said, “but for those of you who don’t it was a vampire in my hometown who went by the name of Chris Jones.”

  I heard a murmur ripple through the crowd. It appeared a number of them knew the name.

  “I was ready to die, and I should have, were it not for the fact that I’m an angel.”

  “She lies!” someone yelled. “Chris would have smelled she was an angel.”

  “Ah,” I smiled, “but here’s the beauty of it. You see not even I knew I was an angel. I’m not an angel of heaven, I’m an angel of earth, born to mortals.” I pointed to Danny. “My scent differs to theirs.”

  “Michelle,” Drake whispered. “Hindsight is a wonderful thing, don’t you think? If we’d known then what we know now, you could have been ours. Granted, we wouldn’t have changed you at the age you would have been back then, but we could’ve raised you amongst us until you were of age. You would have known nothing different. You would have thought our way of life was the only way, and we would have had an assassin of unparalleled abilities!”

  Assassin, I thought. I guess that’s what she who kills is — God’s unpaid assassin. Now is my chance to make them doubt. To try and put the fear of God into them.

  “There are hundreds of thousands of earth-bound angels just like me, waiting, though they don’t know what they’re waiting for. Your days are numbered.” I laughed. “For each one of us you bite, a thousand or more of you will fall, and there is no way for you to know what we are until we’ve been changed.”

  This is great, I thought happily. I can lie. Though for all I know it may be the truth.

  “The armies of the archangels are on their way,” Amrael butted in. “You do not have the numbers to defeat them, vampire. The earth will be purged of the stain that you are.”

  “Amrael, what have you done?” Danny whispered, shaking his head.

  “It appears Danizriel does not agree with your actions,” Drake said. “You see, if the angels are on their way, and I believe they are — angels don’t lie after all — your time is up, Amrael.”

  “You demented fool!” Anna yelled, pushing her way to Amrael.

  In response to her move, four vampires restrained Amrael, holding his arms behind his back, palms facing his own body so he could not lash out with angel fire.

  Anna took his face in one hand and squeezed his cheeks, causing his eyes to squint and puckering his lips until he looked like he’d had too much cosmetic surgery.

  “Do you really believe we would bring all of our clans here, for you?” she hissed at Amrael. “Our numbers have grown significantly — and Drake has trained them well, here at the hunting grounds — yet your kind has become so arrogant, so self-absorbed you haven’t noticed. If not for the freak,” she nodded back in my direction, “you’d be none the wiser. The time of the apocalypse draws close, angel.”

  “Anna, my love, remember he is an angel,” Drake warned. “Do not let your anger cloud your vision.”

  She lifted her head to look at the crowd and yelled. “I need a volunteer!”

  Three vampires stepped forward. They looked little more than teenagers. Anna smiled and kissed each of them in turn, on the lips.

  “May your next life be as fruitful as this one,” she said. The three vampires bowed their heads.

  I glanced at Danny quickly and he gave a curt nod. If we didn’t move now it would be too late for Amrael.

  “Back to back,” I hissed. “Now!”

  We both turned and stepped back until our bodies touched. It was the only way to know the other one was still there, that tiny amount of contact. I drew the knife, and with the element of surprise on my side — it was not strapped to my arm as they had come to expect — lashed out at the nearest vampire.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Drake and the other four vampires that had remained by his side, retreat through the crowd to escape from the army soon to descend. I could not see Anna, but was sure she would follow their lead. If there was one thing I knew from my time with the preacher, it was that those with power — those who commanded — didn’t risk themselves unnecessarily. That was why the soldiers and followers were there — cannon fodder.

  As I held the knife, ready to strike again, a blinding light enveloped the corridor. The vampires hissed and snarled.

  “Too late,” Danny cried out, and I knew he meant that Amrael was lost.

  Danny let his angel fire engulf the nearest vampire. I slashed wildly with my blade, keeping as many vamps at bay as possible. I reached back and linked my free arm through Danny’s and we disappeared, the roar of angry vampires denied their prey — their bloodlust — ringing in my ears.

  22. Misunderstandings

  The angel fire was still burning on Danny’s palms as we returned to the cottage. He quickly closed his palm to extinguish the flame, before it could destroy our home.

  “I have failed Him… I have failed,” he moaned, sinking to the floor, his head in his hands.

  I knelt on the floor beside him and pulled his hands away from his head.

  “Look at me,” I commanded. “Look at me!”

  When Danny raised his head I could see the anguish in his eyes — the guilt, the suffering.

  “It was not your fault,” I shook his arms to make sure he listened to me. “We had no reason to believe the clans would already be there. We weren’t to know the crow wasn’t Amrael’s.”

  Danny shook his head. “You don’t understand what Amrael has done, in his dying moments.”

  “The light?” I asked.

  “Yes, the light. When an angel dies they can send a final message back to their superior. It is much like what I showed you of my meeting with my superior, only the thoughts accompanying the vision are transferred as well, and absorbed.”

  “So whatever Amrael was thinking at the time went with the message, like an unspoken commentary?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the problem with that?” I asked. “His superior will see that the vampires were responsible.”

  “And most likely that we were there, amongst the vampires,” Danny said, crestfallen, his sense of hope fading away, “and know of Amrael’s distaste for you and his lack of trust in me. All conveyed in his thoughts.”

  “Okay, that could be a problem,” I conceded, “but if you went and talked to your superior I’m sure you could sort it out.”

  “Then I need to go now,” Danny said, “before all hope is gone.”

  I took Danny’s hands in mine. “Danny, I’m sorry. If I could change what’s happened, I would.”

  “I know that,” he replied. He leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “Maybe I should listen to you more often. If we had stayed here none of this would have happened.”

  “No, Danny, you’re wrong.” I shook my head. “Amrael would still have gone to the corridor and the vampires would still have killed him. The only thing that would be different is that our images would not have been in his final message. We would have only been in his thoughts… I’m sure he would’ve thought it was a trap set by me, if not the both of us.”

  Danny sighed and stood up. “You’re right, of course. My judgement is clouded by what’s happened.”

  He held out a hand to help me up and we embraced.

  “Be careful,” I said.

  “And you,” he replied. “I don’t think they can find you here, but wear the blade anyway. If you need to run, do so. You can always call out to me later and I’ll find you, even if it means travelling to the depths of hell.”<
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  I laughed. I could imagine Danny fighting his way through a hoard of angry demons, like a medieval knight, to rescue me.

  “What’s funny?” he asked.

  “I was thinking of the similarities between you and a knight in shining armour,” I replied.

  “I have been that,” he said, “during the crusades.”

  I poked his arm, trying to lighten the mood. “One day, Danny Malakh, you’re going to tell me all about yourself and what you’ve seen. You know more about me than I know about you!”

  “It will take more than a day,” Danny laughed. “God willing I’ll tell you the entire history of all the angels. Let’s just get past this one hurdle first.”

  “I don’t care about the other angels,” I said.” I only want to know about you.”

  “As an angel you’ll need to learn the basics of angelic history.”

  “Fine, fine,” I replied in defeat. “Go now. The sooner you go, the sooner you can return.”

  Danny kissed my cheek once more and walked away from me. I turned away from him. I couldn’t watch him leave.

  “Alone again,” I sighed. “What the hell am I going to do this time to stop from going crazy?”

  I looked at the perfectly formed hole that had been carved in the wall of the cottage with Danny’s angel fire, before he’d put out the flame. It was like a port hole in a ship, about chest height, and the breeze it let in was refreshing. The fragrance of the flowers from the garden filled the room.

  I spied my sparring partners standing — unblinking and not breathing — in the corner, to the right of the port hole.

  “Hey, you with the bad skin, come here!”

  Funnily enough they all walked towards me.

  Oh well, I thought, it’s probably time I stretched myself — four against one.

  I gestured with my hand for them to bring it on and unsheathed the knife. It would be interesting to see if they would work as one unit or as individuals. Could the monsters work together? The balance of power might easily change if they could set aside their differences and animosities to fight for a common cause — the destruction of the angels.

  As they charged I bent my knees and performed a backwards somersault, landing behind the zombie. I quickly dispatched him and lunged to the left, stabbing into the back of the varakiana. I drove the blade in as hard as I could, to penetrate its armour-plated skin. Once in, I applied a tremendous amount of pressure to push the blade downward towards its tail. It was good to know my knife worked where other blades would not.

  The vampire was smart enough to approach me from the side that was busy with the knife, and I turned the varakiana and myself around so I could grab the vamp by the throat. My hand instinctively squeezed and began to drain it. It was empty blood to me, hollow. These creatures were not real and their blood would not satisfy any hunger I had. Like a placebo, it would do nothing except trick my mind into thinking it had been given what it needed.

  I wrenched the knife out of the varakiana’s body just as the werewolf pounced. I used the vamp as a shield and the wolf savaged it wildly, its claws raking my arm.

  “That bloody well hurts!” I yelled out. I wasn’t aware there was going to be any real pain in these training exercises.

  The wolf tore the vamp in half and lunged for my throat. I stabbed it in the neck, below the jaw, and hammered the blade upwards into its brain. Its body went limp and I heaved it off me.

  All of the bodies repaired themselves and they stood once again in the corner, awaiting my command. I inspected my arm, but there was no evidence of any injury. Only my shredded sleeve told the truth about what had happened to my arm.

  “Cool,” I said out loud, then muttered. “Thanks, Danny. It would have been nice to have a bit of warning that this,” I looked at my now healed arm, “is what can happen if I give them a bit of free rein.”

  I called them back over. I needed to practise tackling all four of them without the use of the knife. What if I dropped it or it was wrestled out of my hand, or worse still, lost? I needed to make sure I could handle myself in any situation. Okay, so my fallback position was to get out of there, and get out quickly. However, the more I practised fighting — offence and defence — the better I’d get. I mean, wasn’t that the point of armed forces training exercises?

  I incorporated more gymnastic moves into my routine — flips and twists. At one point, when I was clutching the throats of two of my opponents, I danced them around the floor as a shield. Then I used them to support my weight as I performed some high kicks, front and back, to keep the other two away, until they dropped — all their blood drained.

  Two out of three times I succeeded in defeating all four of them. The one time I lost wasn’t pleasant and involved a lot of pain. Once it was over my body was whole again. Only my tattered clothes and the fresh memories of pain served as a reminder. I knew I had to learn from the experience. I recalled the details over and over again in my mind. They could work as a team! They were not the dumb sparring partners I thought them to be. It seemed that they could adapt to my fighting technique. The more we fought, the harder it became for me. If this was in fact what was happening, eventually they would win two out of three matches, then all of them. I had to come up with new and interesting ways to keep them off guard.

  The wolf had an advantage two of the others didn’t — his rock-hard rib cage. I wanted to know if I could crack it, or better still break through it. The wolf stood in the centre of the room, alone, waiting for me to strike. He had been commanded to keep still, so I had nothing to fear. He wouldn’t attempt to defend himself.

  I parted the fur around his rib cage and tapped on the skin. It didn’t feel rock-hard, or was it only that now I was stronger it felt softer? I punched at it a few times with my closed fist — short sharp jabs — and nothing happened. The ribs didn’t flex or give and my knuckles felt like they were connecting with something hard.

  “Gees, I wish I could give you a shave to get a better idea of what I’m dealing with!” I mumbled.

  Wait, I thought. I have a knife, why not use it to give Fido a haircut?

  “Raise your arms and stand still,” I commanded. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

  I smiled as I cut handfuls of fur from his torso, and carefully scraped the remaining stubble from his skin. I stood back to survey my handiwork. Not bad at all. I sheathed the knife and ran my hands along his chest and back. It was a close shave indeed. The outline of the rib cage was much clearer now, the fused bones easier to see.

  I tried a couple more jabs, this time using both hands — left, right, left, right — to get a better look at what happened to his chest when I punched it. My initial assessment that it didn’t flex or give was correct.

  I unsheathed the knife again and stabbed at intervals of about two centimetres, trying to find a weakness, particularly where the bone was fused. I could pierce the skin, no problem there, but couldn’t penetrate the bone. In a desperate attempt to get through, I backed up to the bedroom door then ran, full pelt. Before I reached its side I swung the knife in a wide horizontal arc. As I came level with the wolf the knife hit him in the chest with a tremendous amount of force. The knife made it through all right, straight into the heart, but it jarred my arm so badly I dislocated my shoulder. At least I’d proved to myself that it was possible, though a lesser blade could not have done the job.

  I rolled my arm and shoulder in large circles to speed up the process of popping my shoulder back in place. The wolf had not healed and returned to its position in the corner — the knife was preventing him from doing so. I had to stand on the wolf’s chest and pull on the haft with as much strength as I could muster to remove the blade. I tumbled backwards onto the floor and the wolf quickly healed and returned to his place with the others.

  “I think I’ll stick to their soft spot,” I muttered.

  I practised throwing the knife from a distance, to see how deep into the flesh of each monster it would penetrate, and with what acc
uracy I could throw. After twenty-three attempts I was able to hit the zombie dead centre in its heart, which was a much smaller target than its head. The wolf once again proved more of a challenge. Finding that small spot near the base of the neck was really hard, especially with all that fur! It wasn’t like I was going to be able to ask them to shave before going out on a hunt.

  There was no way I was going to be able to decapitate the vamp by throwing the blade. It just wasn’t designed to do that, yet I still had a lot of fun poking it full of holes. I had to laugh when, aiming for its forehead, the blade ended up through its eye socket. The haft of a blade sticking out of the place where an eye should have been was a funny look.

  Having too much time on your hands and nothing to do but fight can be a bad thing. I’d already hurt myself a few times with the wolf. As I thought about the pain it occurred to me that my ability to cope with, and manage the pain, might make the difference between winning and losing, living and dying.

  So, what does a girl who used to get beaten up by men for their own sick pleasure do? She embraces the pain — the one thing she can always rely on. One by one I allowed my pet monsters to bite, claw and break, until I could take no more and ordered them to stop. When my body healed and the pain subsided, I started again. Each time I lasted a little longer. Each time I lost a little more of myself to the madness of the pain. Finally I snapped and screamed in rage, retaliating by ripping out the heart of the vamp that was attacking me with one hand, and tearing out its throat with the other.

  When night fell, some hours later, and Danny still hadn’t returned, I felt numb to the core of my very being. I needed to feel something, anything. So I sought the thing I had lived with for so long that it was like second nature to me — pain. In a sick and twisted masochistic state — I couldn’t see it at the time — I summoned all of my pet monsters to attack me, surrendering myself to the pain they inflicted.

  Danny returned as I lay bleeding and bloodied on the floor. I felt ashamed to have him find me like that, abandoned on a path that some would associate with a death wish.