Angel of Darkness Books 6-10

by Mackenzie Morris

  "And to get bread, I need more coins, right? I have these for you." Jeremiah set down a bag on the counter.

  The assistant's eyes grew wide as he poured out the heavy solid gold coins. "You only owe me ten silver."

  "Keep them. I don't like the way they jingle and make noise. I have plenty. You seem to like them. Now to go find bread. What does it look like?"

  The assistant shook his head and laughed. "Just go ask the baker to try some bread. I'm sure he will be more than happy to help you."

  "Oh. Okay, then. Thank you for my pills."

  "Have a nice day, Jeremiah."

  "You too."

  Jeremiah slid the jar of pills into the pocket of his coat then went back outside into the street. He smiled as he watched the tiny orphans running through the alleys and kicking around balls while they played. High up on the rooftops, he spotted the glowing yellow eyes of the werewolves, some in human form and some in black wolf form. They were guarding the city as they always did. Jeremiah had no reason to confront them or to run. As long as neither side attempted to do anything out of the ordinary, then neither side would take action.

  Wolfekin was such a dreadful place. Without the sun, the moon didn't have phases. So the werewolves changed sporadically without rules or regulations. Then there were the rabid ones who ran free, eating and destroying everything in their path. While all of that was awful, Jeremiah's heart truly ached for the countless orphans. He knew that their fates were to either be eaten by rabid werewolves, changed into werewolves by the Inquisition for hunting down paladins and priests, they would starve to death, or they would be sold into slavery. As much as he cared, it was none of Jeremiah's business.

  He followed the scent of what apparently could have been bread, but he didn't actually get anywhere. The twisting streets led him in circles until he eventually found himself standing in front of the apothecary shop once again. Jeremiah frowned and checked his pocket watch. It had been four hours of searching, but he wasn't able to find the elusive bread. The mage-glow began to fade into the artificial oranges and pinks of sunset. Jeremiah held his coat close to his body as he started to shiver in the plummeting temperatures.

  This was his very first night on Aldexa. The human world always scared him and he was usually busy with other things, so he did his best to stay as far away as he could. Generally, he stayed in Purgatory with the souls of the holy and the damned until they were divided up and devoured by either the angels or the demons. He did his best to help those poor souls cope with being dead until they met their fates. He would have given anything to be back in Purgatory, but he had a job to do. While Jeremiah was supposed to be following leads to find Kato and Divinus, he had received what seemed to be a more urgent order from the apothecary's assistant. His job was to serve human souls, so he had to find that bread before moving on.

  But how was he going to find something that he had no idea what it was or what it even looked like? "Bread. Bread." He continued repeating the word over and over as if saying it would miraculously make him figure it out. Jeremiah stumbled forward when someone raced past him, knocking into his shoulder. He watched the man run into a nearby large wooden building with rustic windows and the warm light from a fire. Maybe they had bread in there. Jeremiah entered the building where someone was playing a fife. The music was pleasant, so he decided to stay for a while. Other men were sitting at tables and someone was dancing on a stage. He smelled something familiar. Bread? Jeremiah went to the counter where an older man was wiping the wooden counter with a rag.

  "What can I get for you?"

  Jeremiah leaned over the counter and looked the man in the eyes. "Is this the bakery?"

  "Oh, no, my friend. This is a tavern. We drink our bread here."

  "You can drink bread? I was under the impression that it was some sort of holy and treasured food. Well, I must be going. I am looking for the bakery. I was told that I needed to eat bread."

  The man took a bottle from the shelf and poured some into a tiny glass. He slid it across the counter to Jeremiah. "Try this instead."

  Jeremiah stared at the clear liquid. "What is this?"

  "Just drink it quickly and don't ask questions."

  How could he say no to a direct order like that? Completely trusting and obedient, Jeremiah picked up the glass then drank the liquid all at once. It burned in his throat and he coughed a couple of times. But then he felt warm.

  "See, feeling better, aren't you?"

  "Yeah . . . I think I want another one."

  "Told you so."

  Jeremiah continued to drink the mysterious clear liquid while he leaned back on the barstool and watched the patrons of the tavern who were gathered around a small wooden stage up against the wall by the hearth. Two young children, one boy and one girl, were dressed in pink translucent flowing fabric adorned with glittering coins that jingled as they danced. They couldn't have been more than twelve years old. Both of them had straight black hair and pale skin. The boy wore a purple circlet on his head and his eyes looked to be hollow as he danced and the patrons tossed coins at him. The boy had the look of someone broken and lost, far more than the girl did. It was a familiar emotion that Jeremiah had experienced with many of the souls he had helped in the past. But he had never noticed that emotion of emptiness in a living being.

  The boy weaved through the crowd of spectators, stopping to dance at each table where the men grabbed at him or touched him. Some of them whispered things to him before slapping him playfully on his thighs or buttocks. Jeremiah didn't understand. Did they know this boy? Was he being punished for something? He then looked into the boy's eyes when he came up to him and danced next to where he was sitting. They made eye contact for a few seconds before the boy ran his tiny hands up Jeremiah's leg.

  Jeremiah grabbed his hand. "You touched me. Why did you touch me?"

  The boy gave a tiny gasp then glanced over at the tavern owner with fear in his eyes.

  "It's fifty silver to have the boy for the night." The tavern owner said.

  Jeremiah set a bag of coins on the table then took the boy's wrist and half-dragged him out of the tavern. Once outside, he led him around the corner then pushed the boy against the wall. "What are you doing here? Why did you touch me? Why are those men hitting you?"

  The boy closed his eyes as he pulled off his shirt then started unlacing his baggy pants.

  "Why are you undressing? It is cold out here." Jeremiah tilted his head curiously as he watched the young boy continue to pull his clothes off. "Aren't you cold?"

  The boy only turned around and placed his hands against the wall.

  Maybe he didn't like his clothes. Jeremiah removed his coat then draped it across the tiny boy's shoulders. "There. You can borrow it. Are your clothes uncomfortable?"

  The boy grunted then turned around to face him. "You paid for me. Don't you want me?"

  "I don't understand. I only wanted to talk to you."

  He looked confused. "Oh. What do you want to know?"

  "Why you touched me. Why you're dancing while the others watch you. I don't understand these cultural things. You could say I'm not from around here."

  "It's what I do, what they make me do. The men like it, but I don't."

  "What's your name?" Jeremiah asked.

  "Tristan Merith. The girl in there is my twin sister, Abby. We're dancers. We belong to the tavern owner."

  "Belong? Oh, you're a slave."

  "Yes. We dance and do other things to entertain the patrons."

  "Other things? I don't-" Jeremiah blushed as the boy whispered a long list of confusing and troubling things in his ear. He didn't even know what most of those things were. But he did know from the tone of Tristan's voice that they were of a private and intimate nature. "And they make you do those things?"

  "If I don't, then I don't get to eat. I usually do those things instead of my sister. I protect her when I can."

  "You're a good brother. Tell me, can you accept gifts? Will the tavern own
er let you keep them?"

  "If he doesn't think it's valuable."

  "Then here." Jeremiah pulled a tiny silver bell out of his pocket then placed it in the boy's hand. "I know I am a stranger to you and this might seem weird, but I want you to have this. I am terribly busy with my current mission and this is none of my business, but something drew me to you, Tristan. If you ever need me, just ring that bell and I will hear it wherever I am. All right?"

  Tristan clutched the bell close to his chest then handed the coat back to Jeremiah and started getting dressed again. "What is your name?"

  "Jeremiah." He covered his face with his handkerchief as he sneezed again.

  "Are you leaving now? Don't go yet. If I have to go back in there, someone else will pay to take me for the night. As long as I'm gone with someone, my sister gets to keep dancing instead of being with one of those mean men. You paid to have me for the entire night, so please do."

  "But I don't want any of those things."

  Tristan smiled and tugged on Jeremiah's hand. "Then come with me. I will show you around the city. Do you like ice cream?"

  "Ice . . . cream?"

  "You'll love it. There's a place that makes it nearby. Let's go, Jeremiah!"

  Chapter 5

  Jaylen shivered in the cold night as the snow began to fall over the water. He was tied to the main mast where he had been left for the past hour without his clothes and new bruises forming on his back from where the sailors had beat him as punishment for finding him apparently hurting Kato. The sailors had left him there and went back down below deck where he could still hear them discussing what else they could do to him.

  He didn't even know what had happened. One minute Jaylen and Kato were kissing and talking then the next, he was naked and she was unconscious. He never would have done something so heinous, especially not to the woman he admired and had feelings for. Jaylen was certain that he didn't even know what to do even if he wanted to do something like that. Just when he had gained favor with many of the crewmembers and dared to call some of them friends, they all hated him. More painful than that was the pain that he felt over violating the trust he shared with Kato. What would Sola say if she knew what Jaylen had done? How far had it gone? Did he break his vows?

  "Jaylen?"

  Jaylen looked up to see Kato stepping out of the cabin with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a black eye. Tears pressed into his eyes. "Forgive me. Forgive me for hurting you. I never meant to."

  "I know. It wasn't you. You didn't hurt me."

  "What?"

  Kato came up to him and took his face in her hands. "You're freezing. Did they . . . punish you?"

  "With birch rods."

  "Oh, no."

  Jaylen scoffed. "It's fine. I'm a paladin. I'm unfortunately pretty used to being whipped. It comes with the territory."

  "Come on. We're getting you inside where we will discuss everything." Kato cut through the ropes then caught Jaylen as his legs buckled under him. "Don't worry. I'm all right. We will figure things out. Just hold onto me, Jaylen."

  * * *

  Jeremiah ran through the streets of Fayng with Tristan riding on his shoulders who was squealing and eating cherry ice cream, leaving a trail of melted stickiness behind them. He spun around in circles, much to Tristan's delight. Once they reached the street outside of the tavern, Jeremiah lifted the boy from his shoulders and set him down on the cobblestones. "Well, that was fun."

  "Yes, yes!" Tristan jumped up and down, the mage-glow shimmering in his glossy eyes. "One more time around the plaza. Please!"

  Jeremiah checked his pocket watch. "Sorry, buddy. It is time for you to get back to your Master. I don't want you to get in trouble."

  "Take me with you. Don't make me go back in there. You're so nice and friendly and you love ice cream."

  "I do love ice cream, but I can't take you with me. I'm sorry. It is not my mission objective to bring you with me. I have work to do that I am already behind schedule with. It's too dangerous for you to come with me."

  "But-"

  He placed his finger over the boy's sticky lips. "Shh. You have that bell I gave you. Remember, just ring that bell and I will come find you. It's for emergencies, okay?"

  "Okay. What do you do, anyway?"

  Jeremiah patted the boy's head. "Well, I guess you could say I'm like a guard. I hunt down bad guys while helping the good guys. Right now, I'm on a mission to hunt down two very bad people who Sola herself wants to be brought to justice."

  "What did they do?" Tristan asked as he wiped the melted ice cream from his mouth.

  "All I know is that they broke some specific laws regarding mating between humans and a very specific group of angels."

  "Like you?"

  Jeremiah tilted his head. "Huh?"

  "You're not human. I can tell."

  "How can you tell?"

  "You're nice to everyone. And I see your halo."

  "You can see my halo?" Jeremiah asked. "It's supposed to be hidden. No one should be able to see it."

  "I saw it from the second you came into the tavern. It's purple like my circlet."

  "Strange." Now Jeremiah was even more confused. If this boy could see his halo, who else knew his true identity as a seraph? The longer he stayed in the human world, the more troubling things became.

  "Why don't the regular angels have halos?"

  "What?" Jeremiah asked. "Oh, because I'm a special kind of angel. Tristan, have you seen anyone else with a halo?"

  "Only once. I used to be the servant of the king of Vilyron. He had a halo sometimes, but only when his eyes turned orange. I don't think anyone else could see the halo, though."

  "The king of Vilyron?"

  "Jaylen Corrifus."

  That name . . . Jeremiah was certain he had heard it before, but where? And why would a human have a halo? As far as Jeremiah knew, there were only two beings in existence that had halos aside from the rumored lost seraph. Those two beings were him and Divinus. Then it dawned on him. Could Divinus have done the most horrific and forbidden act of possessing a human? Or was it the lost seraph finally revealing himself? Either way, it was clear that the next step in fulfilling his mission was to find this Jaylen Corrifus. "Tristan, do you know where I can find Jaylen Corrifus?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "There's a wanted poster right behind you on the side of the building. That's a sketch of what he looks like."

  Jeremiah ripped the paper from the bricks and stared at it. The very youthful face and large eyes was a surprise. "He's young to be a king, isn't he?"

  "He was seventh in line to the throne, but everyone else in his family was killed by an assassin. Jaylen was only king for about a month. He left, but before he could return, Wolfekin invaded and took over the kingdom."

  "Then the Inquisition was formed and the werewolves hunt down paladins and priests."

  "Exactly. Jaylen is a paladin."

  "Oh. Who is his angel?" Jeremiah asked, still studying the sketch.

  "I don't know. He didn't talk about him much."

  "Odd."

  Tristan tapped the paper with his finger. "But he's really nice. He gave me and Abby a place to stay and gave us toys to play with while he was gone."

  "Anything else you can tell me about Jaylen? Anything you think will help me find him?"

  "Oh, he wears a dog collar."

  "A dog collar?" Jeremiah asked. "Why does he wear a dog collar?"

  "I heard a rumor that his father used to make him wear it when he was punished as a child. He uses it as a way to feel grounded or something. He hides behind it."

  "This Jaylen Corrifus sounds like a strange young man."

  "Don't hurt him, please." Tristan begged.

  "I'm not going to hurt him. He hasn't done anything wrong. I simply want to talk with him."

  The tavern owner started yelling from inside. "Tristan, boy you better get your ass in here before I whip you so hard you won't sit for a week!"

  "I have to go, Je
remiah."

  Jeremiah pushed the boy towards the door. "Then hurry along. I wouldn't want you or your sister to get hurt. Remember that I am always listening for that bell. No matter where I am, I will hear it when it rings. If things get bad, you summon me, okay?"

  "Okay."

  Jeremiah gasped when the tiny boy wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him. For an unknown reason, he returned the embrace. What a strange human custom. But after a moment, he began to understand it. He felt warm inside, warmer than the alcohol had made him.

  "Bye, Jeremiah! Thank you for the ice cream." Tristan smoothed his flowing pink tunic, causing the coins to jingle before rushing towards the door. He waved once more then disappeared into the tavern.

  Jeremiah was left alone in the middle of the street as the snow started to fall again. Something trickled down his cheek. When he went to wipe it off, he smiled. Melted cherry ice cream. But his smile was short-lived. He was feeling something in his chest, something unpleasant and worrisome. He felt the need to have more alcohol to make the feeling go away, but he couldn't stay here with the minutes ticking away. Orders were orders. He dug in the pocket of his long grey coat and pulled out a loaf of bread that Tristan had given him. Jeremiah sniffed it a couple of times then took a nibble. "Well, this is just horrible." He spun around as he heard a whimpering sound nearby.

  A small girl was watching him from behind an empty crate, her eyes focused on the bread in his hands.

  Jeremiah knelt down in front of the girl and handed the loaf of bread to her. "Do you like this stuff? It's so bland and not sweet at all. I like ice cream a lot better."

  The girl nodded her head and licked her lips.

  "You can have it." Jeremiah watched as the girl devoured the entire loaf with shaking hands then ran off into the shadows. He called after her. "Well, bye, then. If you want more bread, the bakery by the harbor makes it. Don't get the liquid bread from the tavern. It burns!"

  * * *

  Jaylen sipped the peppermint tea from the ivory teacup as he huddled beneath the blankets where more hot rocks had been piled on a tray on the bed. He was still trying to place all the pieces together. "So you're saying that a fallen seraph, a special angel who brings the apocalypse and hunts down the most dangerous heretics, is living inside my body and using my soul to help empower himself?"