Daman's Angel

by Charmaine Ross

  Vincent aimed the gun at Angel. Started to squeeze the trigger.

  “No!” Daman shouted. His fists clenched, completely helpless to stop Vincent.

  Angel’s eyes splintered open. As if in slow motion, her arm shifted over Haki’s shoulder. She held a gun. Aimed.

  Fired.

  The end of the gun sparked. Vincent stumbled. A black hole appeared in his shirt. In surprise, he held a hand to the hole. Blood streamed from the hole, oozing through his fingers, staining his shirt with large drops. Vincent huffed a laugh. He took his hand away from the wound, stared at his bloodied palm. He staggered, limbs uncoordinated.

  “You bitch!” With a great effort, he raised the gun at Angel. It wobbled.

  There was a slip of energy around the edges of Vincent’s body. A shadow of a shoulder was visible from the flesh and blood shoulder. His essence was sliding out. The side of his body slumped without the support of the spirit. He staggered. A shadow arm materialized, dropping from the solid. Vincent’s soul was loosening.

  “You’re dying, Vincent. I can see it. Do the one decent thing you’ve ever done in your life and let Angel live,” Daman said.

  Vincent cackled. “No redemption. Only…revenge.”

  He swayed, knees folding beneath him. His body twisted, but his gun arm remained aimed at Angel. There was a look of complete and utter madness in his soulless eyes, brought on by his lunacy and blood-lust. There would be only revenge, and revenge for him was destroying everything that Daman loved. He’d done it once.

  There would be no second time.

  This time, Daman could stop him. Daman crouched, pushed off the ground and sprang at Vincent. His hands slipped through the flesh, but found purchase on the same material that was in every single body without exception. The spirit.

  His fingers dug into his waist, his shoulder pummeling into his midsection. Vincent’s spirit ripped from the flesh. He screamed horrifically, in agony from flesh and blood and spirit.

  Daman pushed with all his strength. His feet slipped, but he quickly found purchase. His hands pulled, fingers clawed and dug.

  Vincent lashed at Daman, but his physical arm merely went through Daman’s ethereal body. Daman hugged Vincent’s waist, and clung onto his spirit, twisted and pulled. His midsection materialized from the physical. Daman pulled Vincent’s arm, wrestling the spirit, tearing it from flesh. Vincent’s body tottered. Without the spirit, there could be no life in the body.

  Daman bellowed, and with strength born of sheer determination, ripped the spirit free detaching it from Vincent’s flesh. His body toppled, lifeless before it hit the ground. Daman used the backward momentum. He spun and shoved Vincent’s spirit into the shadows where he tumbled to the ground, half in the Antimedus’ light, and half in the depths of the shadows.

  “You bastard. How dare you!” Vincent’s black eyes spat hate. He crouched, ready to spring. But that move never came.

  A claw snatched his ankle. Vincent whirled, startled. He kicked at the claw and shrieked, a high-pitched wailing sound.

  “It is best to seek the light,” Daman said.

  Vincent didn’t hear. Another claw seized his other ankle. He was flipped into his stomach. There was a hideous crunch, teeth cleaving bone. Vincent’s face opened in agonizing pain. His mouth opened, but no noise came out. He tore at the ground, trying to propel himself into the edge of the light. His hands skimmed on the smooth floor. There was another crunch. Vincent went rigid, and then he was wrenched into the dark.

  Claws scratched. Bodies strained against body. There were a series of wet-sounding crackles, then silence. The depths of the shadows lightened enough for Daman to see the walls of the warehouse. The air heated and the stench cleared. The demons had gone. Taken what they had come for.

  Daman dropped to Angel’s side. “I thought Angels didn’t maim or hurt.”

  The ghost of a smile lit her lips. “We did it. A flesh and blood sacrifice. The bullet went through your body and cut my arm, mixing your blood with mine. I’m not an Angel. I’m human now…and I can see the earth is better off without some souls living on it.”

  “You’re starting to sound like me.”

  “I’m starting to see more than black and white.” She pushed at Haki’s shoulders, but the Maori was solid and heavy. They were unable to help her dislodge Haki’s heavy body.

  There was a groan, and Haki’s spirit materialized from his body. He stumbled to his feet, stepped from his flesh for the last time.

  “Haki. You saved Angel,” Daman said. “I thought you worked for Vincent.”

  Haki nodded. “I did, bro. But when I saw what he wanted to do to Angel, well…she saved me. The way I see it, I owe her my life.”

  Father Joseph clapped Haki on his shoulder. “And now you have yours back, my son. You have saved yourself in the process.”

  “But she’s trapped under my body. What can we do?” Haki said.

  Daman turned to Antimedus. “I have a choice, don’t I? Just like Haki had a choice when Angel gave him life in his flesh again. No one asked me if I wanted to live. So ask me, Antimedus. You can’t stand in the way of free will, and it is my free will to return to my body.”

  Antimedus stared at him. Long moments stretched. Daman was ready to fight Antimedus. He would do this for him. He would do this for Angel. He had a choice and he chose Angel. He wanted to live until he was old and gray and he wanted Angel to journey by his side. There could be no other way. He pinned the angel with a stare, and wouldn’t let him break their contact. This was too important.

  Slowly Antimedus inclined his head. “I see. As you wish. I will prepare your body first so that you may breathe once again.”

  “Wait,” Angel whispered.

  Daman knelt beside her. “What is it?”

  She dropped her gaze and fought to return it to his. “You may not wish to live again once you hear what I have to tell you.”

  He stilled. “I’ll always stand by you.”

  She smiled, a sad twist to her mouth. “You always underestimate yourself. Your determination to stand by people, even when it gets tough. You still love and trust enough to do it. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you.”

  “Loved? Always?” His mouth went dry. He couldn’t dodge the feeling there was so much more that what she was saying. “We only met three days ago.” And already the change for the better in him was absolute. What could she do with a lifetime?

  “We didn’t just meet three days ago. I’ve known you for longer than that.”

  “How?”

  “I came to you in your dreams, when your defenses were down and you had no worries to shut me away. Do you remember your dreams when we were together? You might remember so much more without your flesh and blood body blocking you.”

  He frowned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d known her for so much longer than three days. The feeling of familiarity never dissipated, only grew stronger. Wisps of memory floated into his mind. Surrealistic images of them. Holding hands. Talking. Making love. He stared at her as the wisps sharpened to reality. So many nights, together, sharing, talking, laughing. Loving. He stared at her, knowing why now he’d not been able to shake the feeling of knowing her.

  Subconsciously knowing, but ignoring the fact, that he’d fallen in love with her before that night he thought he’d first seen her. He’d loved her long before then.

  “You were really there,” he said.

  She nodded. “Always.”

  “Why?”

  “I fell in love with you. I couldn’t help myself. It’s against the rule of angels with flesh and blood, but I couldn’t deny myself. Your pain. Your tenacity to keep going every day. I couldn’t leave you.”

  “How long did we meet in my dreams?”

  Her blue eyes met his, pain and love and truth radiated from them. “Three years.”

  “Three…” That would mean she met him when Michelle died. He stared at
her, the meaning not making a mental connection.

  “Daman, I…I was Michelle’s Death Angel. I was the one who took her from you. I was the one who broke your heart. I only came back to fix it, but then I…”

  “Then you what?”

  “Fell in love with you.”

  He didn’t know where to look, didn’t know whether to stand and leave or prowl the floor. His head spun. She’d met him when she’d come to take Michelle. He stood, ran the fingers of both hands through his hair. Stared unseeing at the blank wall. “Michelle,” he whispered.

  “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry,” Angel whispered.

  He shook his head, taking a deep breath. Reason cleared a path in his mind. In all this mess, none of them were to blame. They were victims, but that didn’t mean that they had to live like one. It occurred to him that he’d been doing just that for the past three years.

  And he was no victim.

  Angel was not at fault. And neither was he or Michelle.

  If anyone was to blame, it was Marcus and Vincent and the empire they’d built from death and destruction of others.

  He knew better than to blame others who shouldn’t accept fault. He moved to Angel, put his palm to her face even though he knew she couldn’t feel it. “You are an innocent. You were doing what you were born to do. Take souls to a better life. You were not responsible for Michelle’s death.”

  “I asked her if she wanted to go back but she couldn’t. Her body was too broken.”

  “She said no,” Daman said. “Did she say why?”

  “She said she loved you, that she always would. But she said you were strong and would recover without her. She said you will meet again one day.”

  “She left me.”

  “Once souls have a taste of a better existence, it is very hard to come back. They want to go home. I cannot fault her choice, for it was hers to make.”

  A bright golden light shone from the ceiling, enveloping him in shining rays. They brushed his skin, as soothing as a mother’s hand brushing way dirt and tears. A glowing warmth spread though his body, filled with so much love it took his breath away. He was no longer a burned-out cop, or a husband that was broken with guilt, or a man that couldn’t reach out a take what he wanted the most. He was a son to be proud of. Coming home at last. The light beckoned him and he drifted to his feet, tempted beyond reason to float toward it.

  “Angel. The love. I can feel it calling for me.” He glanced down at Angel.

  There was a gentle smile on her face. She knew what it was and how it felt.

  “This was how Michelle felt when she died?” He didn’t blame Michelle for going. In that moment of clarity he realized her journey wasn’t cut short. She was only returning home, just as she was always meant to. Their life together was only written to last a few years. He had twisted those years instead of honoring them. In that instant, he forgave her death, and he forgave himself for the guilt he’d allowed to claim him. The way in which he loved Angel was so much more, so much deeper, so much stronger that it would last beyond life into the eternal.

  Angel’s mouth twisted. “So much love. The soul cannot deny its force.”

  Daman dropped to his knees at Angel’s sides the full impact of his realization hit him. “My God. You gave this up? This love? This eternity? To be human...for me?” His voice cracked. Now he knew how much Angel loved him, how much she wanted to be with him. The light was temptation, love beyond reason, and this angel-woman had denied herself for him.

  “There was nothing to give up and everything to gain. I love you. I wanted to be here with you. And now it’s all for nothing…” A tear slipped down her cheek. She closed her eyes, swiping at the tears that trailed through the dirt on her face, staining her cheek.

  He slammed his fists to the floor. “It is not! I have free choice and I choose to use it now. I choose to live, Angel. I choose to come back to you. I choose to forgive and move on. That’s what life’s about. Choice. This time I choose the best. I pick you to love and spend my years building a life with you. Having children and growing old with you. There is time enough for death. And there’s no rush to die. Eternity will always wait for us.”

  “Do you really mean that, Daman?” Angel whispered. More tears made a silvery path on her cheek, but she made no attempt to wipe them away.

  “More than I’ve meant anything in my life. I love you and I choose to be with you.” He bent, pressing his ethereal lips to hers.

  Heat made his mouth tingle. It spread quickly through his face, down his neck and through his body. The tingling increased, swirling through his middle and flaring outwards. Nerve endings flickered and burst to life, warm blood rounded out veins, bones became solid. There was weight to his body, pressure on his skin and he felt Angel in his arms.

  He shifted away a little, cracked eyes open. Blinked at her beauty. She was more real in his arms than she had ever been, more solid, packed with life. He pressed his hands to her cheek, felt her warm skin tingle against his, her breath caress his cheek.

  He reeled back, studying his body, pressing his hands over his arms and torso. His wounds were healed, no bruises of the past hours of torture. He looked to where his body had lain. There was nothing there but a large patch of red blood darkening the ground.

  “Antimedus?” He looked around. There was nothing, save the empty darkness of the warehouse. Vincent’s body was gone, as was Haki. There was no sign of the struggle that had taken place moments before.

  “They’ve gone. Or we can’t see them anymore,” Angel said. She clutched her arm and shifted the material so that she could see. Her wounds had also been healed.

  A groan shifted their attention. Daman ran to Pete, who was struggling to sit, a hand at his temple. “What happened?”

  “Everything,” Daman said. A smile tugged his mouth so wide it almost became a laugh.

  “Is that you? You’re smiling, you know,” Pete said. “I’ve got such a bad headache. Who the hell hit me?”

  Daman slapped him on his shoulder. “You’ll live.”

  He went back to Angel, took her hand and helped her to her feet, wrapping her immediately in his arms, “And this is where you’ll spend the rest of your life. I’m never going to let you out of my sight again.

  Angel tightened her arms about his waist, melting into his body, pressing her lips to his. “I can’t think of anywhere else I want to be.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Daman’s steps crunched on the gravel as they walked on the sun-dappled path. In front of them, Josephine’s long blonde curls bounced on her shoulders as she skipped. Her red sandaled feet tapped a quick little rhythm in time with the joy in his heart.

  He tucked Angel’s arm with his, and turned to smile at her. She was as radiant as the day they’d met. He wondered that he found her even more beautiful with each passing day. She returned his smile immediately, leaning against him and resting her head on his arm. His gaze fell to her rounded belly, her hand placed protectively over it.

  “Are you happy here, Mrs. Quade?”

  She moved to gaze up at him, her arms still entwined with his, a look of mock surprise arranging her face. “Why wouldn’t I be happy with my police commissioner husband catching bad guys every day? You’re my regular good-guy super-hero. I’m in seventh heaven.”

  She chuckled and rested her head on his arm again. He wrapped his arms about her still-slender waist and she hugged him in return tying them together with linked arms. Together they strolled in their local park, heading toward the playground Josephine loved to play in.

  His life had irrevocably changed since her entry into his life and he hadn’t looked back. There was no time for darkness, or fear or self-inflicted regret. Each day, each minute, each moment was a gift and he treasured them all, thankful that he had them.

  He’d rounded up the last of the Lepski gang, tracking down the members who’d run away, scared and hiding from that night when Vincent had tr
ied to abuse Angel. He’d actively pushed for a life sentence for Ben, the member of the gang who’d shot and killed Father Joseph. After seeing the red demons take Vincent, Ben had gone, willingly spending the rest of his life behind bars to pay for the wrong he’d done. He would only know if that was enough when his time came to become part of the Eternity.

  He’d recovered Father Joseph’s Book of Angels. Angel was part way through interpreting it, in between motherhood and the new life she’d successfully carved for herself. He was amazed how easily she’d slipped from being an Angel to become part of this world.

  “Do you care that you’re human?” he asked.

  She looked at him, a smile playing on her lips, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you have no powers now. Do you miss having the capabilities of an Angel?”

  She laughed, the musical tones warming his heart. “I have more than enough power, thank you very much.” She indicated her enlarged belly. “This is enough power for me.”

  “Dad, can you push me?” Josephine’s voice floated on sunshine, capturing his attention. The little girl smiled at him. Her pink little cheeks were flushed with skipping along the path and now she waited impatiently on the swing. She looked just like her mother in every way.

  Angel squeezed his hand. “You go on. I’m going to find a seat and put my feet up for a while.”

  Angel watched him go to swing their daughter. She was truly blessed. The power she now had was to live, love, have children and grow old. She had a soul, and when she once again entered the Eternity, she would wait for him and they would journey together. But she was certain that was not going to be for years to come. She had children to raise, grandchildren to spoil and a husband to love.

  She sat with a sigh, raising her face to the soft, warm spring sunshine. This baby would be a summer baby. She’d already picked a name. Jonah; it meant Peace. Having this, a husband, a child and a new blessing growing inside her - this was more than she could ever imagine possible. Eternity couldn’t compare to this type of happiness.

  Her gaze was drawn to the rosebush at her left. The flowers had budded and were opening to drink in the warmth of the new season. One flower was drooping, the yellow petals curling and browned.