by T. R. Hamby
The scan was done, and Barry was cleared to go. They went home, and found everyone, even the doctor, waiting in the living room.
“He’s good,” Nora said, gently touching Barry’s arm. “All clear.”
“Good,” the doctor said, stiff as a board. “I’ll be going, then.”
“Stay,” Mel said firmly. “Have a drink with us.”
The doctor looked as if that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he sat down anyway, and Michael went to the kitchen to grab some beers.
Gabriel took Barry upstairs and helped him shower. Then they went to bed.
Barry’s head still pounded, and every move hurt. His ribs ached sharply, and there was a painful lump on the back of his head.
But the worst pain of all was the craving--that horrible urge, which had returned with a vengeance. That powder had been right in front of him. He could have taken it, could have run. Could have found a place. That amazing rush, that intense feeling of joy, of perfection, euphoria. All the wonderful things that solved his issues--those dark thoughts, the self-hatred.
His hands shook, and he squeezed his eyes shut. No. Breathe. Breathe.
Gabriel touched his shaking hand. “They were pricks. At the hospital.”
“They’re not all like that,” he replied weakly.
He ran a hand through his hair, took deep breaths. Gabriel was quiet, gingerly rubbing his arm. It was soothing, and after a few minutes the panic passed.
Barry blinked. He could barely make out the ceiling in the dimness.
“I stole my mother’s necklace,” he whispered. “It was my grandmother’s. Mum wore it all the time. I stole it while she was sleeping. Got a hundred quid for it. Shot it all up in that vein the nurse couldn’t get.”
Gabriel was quiet.
“I stole purses. I stole phones out of people’s hands. I worked, but it wasn’t enough. I slept in alleys. I went to rehab, got out just to do it again. Landed myself in jail. I was just this….this thing.”
They were quiet. Barry took a shaky breath, listening to Gabriel’s breathing.
Then Gabriel asked, “What made you change for good?”
Barry frowned. He hadn’t expected that question.
The answer was very hard to say. “My mum died,” he breathed, and his voice broke. “She never got to see me well again. And there was all the things I’d done to her. Broke her heart. Stole her things. But she still loved me. I was on the street; didn’t get to say goodbye.”
He brushed at his eyes, remembering his mother. She had looked so broken when he had stolen her necklace.
“You need to know what I’ve done,” he said. “What I am.”
“You were sick,” Gabriel murmured.
“That’s no excuse.”
“Maybe not. But you’re better now.”
“Your sister’s right about me.”
“If you really think that,” Gabriel said, exasperated now, “then you’re being an idiot. What was it that you did tonight? That was all nothing? Why did you do it then?”
Barry was quiet, his jaw working.
He finally shrugged. “I couldn’t let it happen.”
Gabriel tutted. “Yeah. That makes my sister right about you, doesn’t it?” he asked sarcastically.
They were quiet. Barry closed his eyes. He knew Gabriel was right. He was better now. He was recovering.
Gabriel took his hand. It hurt, but Barry ignored that.
“Nora told me,” Gabriel said quietly, just as Barry was starting to doze off.
He frowned. “Told you what?”
“How it….happens. How much you….desire it sometimes. I didn’t know.”
Barry sighed. Even after Gabriel’s assurances he was still ashamed.
Gabriel’s voice was gentle. “This is all new to me,” he murmured. “I don’t understand most of it. And I….I wish I could understand what ails you. Wish I could feel what you feel. I know it’s not enough, but….I hope it means something.”
Barry took a shaky breath. “I don’t like talking about it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t talk about it. Just….come get me,” Gabriel replied. “Wake me up, interrupt me, I don’t give a fuck. Just….let me be there for you. I can do that, at least.”
Barry felt a wave of relief, of love for him. He hadn’t had someone be there for him since his mother died, and even that had been sporadic.
This would last forever. It was really going to last forever.
He squeezed Gabriel’s hand. “I love you.”
He chuckled. “I love you. Do humans ever get tired of saying that?”
“Some. Not me, though.”
Persephone
Persephone stared at herself in the mirror. She looked horrid; the worst she had ever looked. She was pale, her hair disheveled. She had chewed her lipstick off, and her eyeliner was smudged. She had even been biting her nails, wearing away the polish.
She had been a mess since she had killed Lucius. The two girls' bodies lay in the Prison, cold and blue, but she couldn’t enjoy the sight. Michael the Murderer and Melkira were hunting her, and it terrified her. If they found her, they would kill her, and send her to god knows where. Father would certainly punish her, and now she was afraid of him. She hadn’t been before, but she was now.
She had been stupid.
The elevator doors opened. Eris.
Persephone turned. Eris looked calm, her hands clasped behind her back.
“Well?” Persephone breathed, trying to look composed. “What did you find?”
Eris swallowed, steeled herself. “He wouldn’t take the bait. He’s smarter than he looks. I tried to catch him, but he….”
“But he?”
She didn’t reply, and Persephone screamed, stomping her foot and growling like an angry beast.
“We know where the house is,” Eris said, unfazed. “We could go there.”
“Don’t insult me with your stupidity,” Persephone hissed. “We don’t know how many Angels are in that house. We go up against the two most powerful Angels Father has ever Created.”
“Your Talent is strong.”
She looked at her, her heart pounding angrily in her chest. “You let him go. A fucking human.”
Persephone was going to kill her. She was murderous; she craved blood; she needed it. Eris was a stupid bitch who deserved to die.
She twitched her hand, and Eris’ knees locked. Eris kept still, as if frozen, her face white.
Persephone approached her. She wanted to see the life leave her eyes, wanted to hear her last breath.
But then Eris gave a cry, withdrawing her hand and gouging a Blade down Persephone’s face. Persephone howled, and Eris pushed her to the floor, straddled her and raised the knife again.
Persephone stretched out a bloody hand, and Eris’ neck snapped. She tumbled over with a thud.
Persephone scrambled up, grasping the Blade. Blood poured from her wound, but she felt no pain. No, she felt rage.
Eris was twitching, still alive. Persephone grasped her hair, put the Blade to her neck, and began to saw.
When the body had vanished Persephone was soaked with blood. Blood dripped down her face, and her eye burned. She calmly got up, Blade in hand, and went to the bathroom.
She looked in the mirror: Her right eye had been obliterated. All there was was a bloody mass, swollen and close to dropping out of its socket.
Persephone took the Blade and dug into the wound. She felt pressure, but otherwise nothing. Once the mass had been extracted she again looked at herself in the mirror.
Then she screamed. Fury coursed through her, and she longed to kill again. She shattered the mirror with her fist, stomped the floor until the marble cracked.
There was nothing left. Her Creations were ruined, her plans destroyed. What could she do now?
She looked around the apartment with her one eye. She thought of Michael and Melkira, and her insides burned. They needed to be dealt with. Once they were, she wou
ld be unmatched, unrivaled. She could Create again. And that could only be done with more Angels--a horde of Angels, of monsters.
And she knew exactly who they were.
Mel
Five Months Later
The Westminster house was a red brick building, built in 1890, and wedged in a long row of houses on a quiet street. It still boasted an older aesthetic, with pale blue walls, squeaky wood flooring, a parlor and a library. The kitchen and stairs were small, and the house only had four bedrooms. It was quaint, and old, and it felt like home.
They had had to abandon the Knightsbridge house, knowing that Persephone knew they lived there. It took a month before the six Immortals and one human determined that Persephone had gone into hiding. There were no more kidnappings, and no one was knocking on their door requesting to speak with Serene, who was still pregnant in the Immortal World. Everything was quiet, and they weren’t sure what to do.
Life became surprisingly normal. Barry finished the summer term with good marks, and began the fall term in September. He and Gabriel often traveled the city. Michael fixed up vintage cars, which he was selling for a good profit. Mel continued the jewelry business. Nora and Gilla went out and made friends, and started a remodel and design project with one of them.
“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Mel murmured quietly.
He was sitting by the bathtub, leaning over the edge and dipping his hand in the water.
Nora was in the tub, her arms stretched over her head, looking thoughtful. “It has to happen sometime.”
“I almost feel like we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Doing what?”
He shrugged. “Living our lives. There’s a lot to lose when Persephone returns.”
She nodded sadly. “Yeah. But we all made a deal.”
“That doesn’t make things easier.”
She shook her head.
Mel frowned, brushing a hand down her leg. “Barry needs to get out. When Persephone’s dead.”
“He won’t,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s been months. He won’t leave Gabriel.”
“Gabriel could break things off with him.”
“Don’t say that,” she murmured, looking pained. “They’ll both die of broken hearts.”
“We got him into this. He was safe before he met us.”
“First of all,” Nora said, raising an eyebrow, “he certainly wasn’t safe before us. He was snatching phones so he could eat, for god’s sake. And yeah, we got him into it. We’re at fault for that. But the ball’s in his court now.”
She sat up, looking at him firmly. “What you and Michael have got to understand is that we can, and we are, making our own choices. No matter what happens. It’s on us now. Barry is smart, and he knows the risks. He rolled into a sewer to protect us, Mel. You’re doing him a disservice by thinking he’s naive. It’s his choice, and he knows what he’s up against. You need to respect that.”
Mel was quiet. She was right, as usual.
“We won’t be home for dinner,” she said as she got out of the tub. “Gilla and I are meeting up with Judy and her boyfriend.”
“How very social of you,” Mel murmured, holding her waist and kissing her.
She melted. “Don’t make me change my mind,” she sighed. “Judy wants to thank us for all the work we’re doing on her house.”
“It’s fine, diletta. I’m happy you’ve found something other than singing.”
She looked at him, and gave a melancholy smile. “Me too.”
She and Gilla left, and dinner came shortly after.
It was only the men left in the house. Only Barry needed to eat, but they cooked dinner anyway, so he wouldn’t feel left out. Gabriel and Barry talked in the dining room, looking at something on Barry’s laptop. Michael and Mel were left to cook dinner in the kitchen.
Things had still been awkward between them. They were polite--perhaps overly polite--and they didn’t ignore each other. But it was still awkward, and Mel wasn’t sure what to do about it. That conversation, after all, had been shocking, painful. It was difficult to go from there.
“How’s Gilla?” Mel asked as he put the sauce together.
“Good,” Michael said quietly. “Still….cautious with everything. But good.”
“She and Nora have become good fighters.”
He nodded, seasoning the chicken.
He was quiet a moment, then asked, “Is Nora….okay? With Gilla.”
They had long ago agreed that Gilla had acquired Bakker’s Immunity to other Angels’ Talents, making her more powerful than Nora, the only other Immortal human.
Mel understood what he meant. “She’s not jealous. I think she’s actually relieved. She prefers not to have superpowers.”
Michael chuckled. “She just prefers to be the mother of the group.”
Mel grinned. “More like the queen.”
“Well, she’s good at it,” Michael said, smiling. “The queen of the Immortals.”
He looked up and caught sight of Gabriel and Barry. “They look happy, don’t they?”
Mel nodded, taking the sauce off the burner. “Yeah.”
“Punk kid.”
This time Mel laughed. “You have to give him more credit than that.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe they’ll get married.”
Michael went a little pale. “God, I hope not. One wedding was enough.”
Suddenly there was a Presence, and right in the middle of the hall Serene appeared. She looked around, before catching sight of Michael and Mel.
“I found something,” she said breathlessly, looking worried.
“Serene!” Michael cried, and they rushed to her. “What the fuck are you doing down here?”
“You showed me around; you said I could come down if there was an emergency, and I found something.”
“You could have Called me,” Michael sighed. “It’s not safe for you down here; you know that.”
“I’m not a fucking child, Mica,” Serene shot back, scowling.
“Everyone calm down,” Mel said firmly.
Serene still looked mutinous. She was wearing a sweater and pants--typical Angel garb--and her stomach was rounded into a small bump. Her cheeks were pink with anger, and they grew redder when Gabriel and Barry appeared. Mel remembered Michael mentioning that she and Gabriel had argued about Barry before they dropped her off at Judith’s. It didn’t look like time had healed those wounds.
She looked at Mel, the only one she was currently still on friendly terms with.
“I’ve been traveling,” she said.
Michael growled, and she rounded on him. “I had to. To see the father. And I visited Persephone’s mother.”
There was a shocked silence.
“What did she say?” Michael asked.
Serene became grave. “She feels horrid. She feels responsible. She says Persephone came back Up, and took her siblings down with her. She’s recruited them to help her kill you and Kira.”
“Fuck me,” Mel hissed, his anger surging.
Barry took a couple steps back, looking pained, and Mel tried to tamp down his anger.
“How many?” Michael breathed.
“Four. Horus, Valor, Raziel, and Ceres,” Serene said quietly.
“I’ve fought Horus and Valor before,” Gabriel said darkly. “They’re good.”
“It gets worse,” Serene continued. “Raziel has a Talent. He can produce and manipulate fire. He can shoot it long distances, make it dance--all sorts of things.”
Mel’s head twitched. He couldn’t produce fire; he needed a source in order to control it. And he, apparently, couldn’t manipulate it like Raziel could.
Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So we have an Angel who can manipulate bodies, an Angel who can manipulate fire, two Angels who are skilled fighters, and an extra. But it’s an even match--”
“No it isn’t,” Gabriel reminded him. “There are the two other Angels, remember? Lu
cius and Alice? That’s seven to five.”
“And Nora isn’t strong enough to fight Angels; she doesn’t have Angel strength,” Mel murmured. “Seven to four.”
They were quiet a moment, thinking. Serene smoothed her hand over her belly, and Mel couldn’t help but smile.
“Agatha?” he suggested.
Serene shook her head. “I can’t find her.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed. “She’s….gone off. She was in a rough place the last time I saw her….I think she needs time.”
They absorbed this. Finally Michael said, “Is it because of me?”
Serene shrugged. “I really don’t know, Mica. She was really angry after coming down here.”
Michael looked almost sick.
Mel sighed, and looked at Serene. “We can’t ask Judith either. She still has a child; we can’t risk her getting killed.”
“So we have no one,” Gabriel said.
“What about some of your friends?” Barry asked. “The ones you fight with.”
“No. They wouldn’t want to get involved,” he replied. “They’re not fond of Michael or Mel.”
“Lovely,” Mel said dryly.
“Same for me,” Serene said quietly.
Another silence.
Michael sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “We need to talk,” he said, looking at Serene.
She bristled a little, but followed her father into the kitchen. Mel followed too, feeling he had a right to listen to Serene explain herself.
They stood by the counter.
“All this time I’ve been trying to see you, and you’ve been traveling,” Michael said, disappointment in his voice.
“I told you, I had to see the father,” Serene replied, though she sounded guilty.
“Are you going to let me see my grandchild?”
“Mica.”
“I have to know.”
She let out a breath. “I’m sure you’ll see it. But it’ll be living with its father. He’ll….take care of it, and I’ll visit.”
Mel felt his anger turn to pity. It was clear Serene was still not happy about the pregnancy, nine months in, with one to go.
