When Ash Rains Down (Kingdom Come #1)

by Cecelia Earl

  But I don't want any part of this. I don't want that battle. I want peace and calm.

  I want my life back.

  A waving hand in the crowd grabs my attention and pulls me out of my thoughts, away from the horror of watching demons prey on human souls. I shake my head, regain my composure, place myself back in the tent, and let the sounds of music trickle into my ears. My hand finds my tiara, tilted on my head, and rights it. I lick my lips and focus on the humans around me. It's Mitch. Thank God, it's Mitch and Rach. I find myself running toward him, relieved. Still half a tent away, I make my way as quickly as my four-inch heels will allow. Mitch is wearing dark gray pants and an olive-colored shirt. He's even wearing a tie, though it's too short—the back hangs down longer than the front—and his hair looks unusually mussed, but in a good way, like it's relaxed. Happy looks wonderful on him.

  Before I can reach them, a cloud descends over the tent, under the tent, around the tent, all around us. It emits a smoke that's stifling. I don't know if it's something only I can see, or if everyone in the room can see it, but even if they can't, they must be able to smell it, and yet they continue on, dancing and laughing. Oblivious.

  Demons untangle themselves from the humans and rise up, meeting the smoke that smells like death. Only, it's less like smoke now, and more like... a massive gang of demons. Angels unsheathe swords and ready arrows. A hand lands on my shoulder and I whip around, fists up.

  "Great. One lesson, and you think you can fight the devil with your bare hands."

  "The devil?" I spin around, looking for... what? What does the devil look like?

  Nicholas groans. "Foolish girl. You don't look for him. He finds you."

  I return his steely gaze. "I didn't need a lesson. I fought off demons without your help."

  He practically snorts, and his eyes lose a bit of their hardness. He almost looks like he could smile. "You survived, but it was sloppy. You have no form, no technique." He thrusts a sword in my hand. "Whatever. Here. Michael said this is your weapon of choice."

  "Choice?" I whisper. The word echoes through my mind.

  What's your choice, little angel?

  I glance around, wondering what the people around me think, what they see.

  "No worries," he tells me. "They can't see the sword. If you fight, they won't see you either. You'll blend in like the other angels. Barely a sheen, barely an outline."

  "Translucent," I say, chewing on my lip, still looking around, taking in the smells of death wrapped up with bows of perfume and musk, the scent of sweat and excitement, nerves and lust.

  “So, now you believe.” He shakes his head. “You’re so stubborn, too like your…”

  “My… who?”

  He sighs. “Your other guardian.”

  Nicholas stands, stone-like, waiting for me to decide. His eyes, soft and green, have patience and not annoyance in them—for a second. Then he rolls them and his usual impatience returns. "Any day now, Angel."

  Still, I try to figure out the connection between Nicholas and Cole. Who is honest? Who can I trust? Nicholas is like the night, and Cole had always seemed to hold the sunlight. Where Cole is impulsive and ready to pounce, Nicholas holds his shoulders perfectly balanced over his hips and feet, nothing out of alignment, every breath calculated and planned. I wish I knew if he was trustworthy. There's something about his beauty that's equally as mesmerizing as Cole's.

  I whip my sword up, holding the tip to his throat. "That's Queen to you."

  "Whatever. An angel undercover. Homecoming queen by day, angel by night." He leans in, his breath inches away from mine. "If you agree to this fight, you can trade in that crown for your sword and wings. Help Heaven win. Save eternal lives."

  I stare into his eyes, the color of my gemstones. Swallow his words.

  The sound of clapping turns both our heads. "Bravo, princess. That's quite a show." Cole pushes my sword down. "Trying to get her killed?"

  Nicholas doesn't look amused. "You know I'm not."

  Cole hisses, "If she fights, she's in danger."

  Everyone around us continues to dance and chat. More and more enter the tent. The demon-filled smoke with its vulgar smell is completely invisible to them.

  Nicholas narrows his eyes at Cole, faces him, and gets nose-to-nose. "Idiot. Why scare her with lies? The more prepared she is, the safer she is."

  A piercing scream hurls itself at me through the air, distracting the three of us. In a sudden uproar, angels and demons are in battle around us. Humans, blind to the turmoil and danger, still sense something is wrong. I can tell by the perplexed looks, the creased brows, the gasps as blasts of wind shoot past their faces.

  I'm the only being in the room that's part of both worlds. I can see as both human and angel. With focus, the angels and demons are clear and bright, fully visible. If I let it blur and use my human eyes, that world goes translucent, barely an outline. Cole and I stand in the center of the action, me with a sword, Cole with his ridiculously large, translucent wings, unsure how to respond. Do we fight, or ignore it, let the other angels battle? Nicholas takes off in outline form, cutting through demons as if they're tangled brush and he's making his way through a field. Ichor of all colors sprays everywhere.

  Even though Cole's not been honest with me, and I no longer trust him farther than I can throw him, I chance an honest answer to a question. "Is this the way it always is?"

  Cole raises his eyebrows.

  "In the world, before I could see all this." I motion to the scene around us with my hand. "Is this always happening around humans without our knowledge?"

  He nods. "Pretty much, but not this bad." He tugs me aside by my elbow, pulling me out of the path of a severed demon's head. "It's getting worse."

  "By the day, or what?"

  He opens his mouth, narrows his eyes. "By the century." When he sees my shocked expression, he adds, "By the year, by the month, by the day. Worse today. Lucifer wants you, and he's going after everyone else to get to you. When you told him no, you really angered him."

  "Told him no?"

  Our conversation ceases when we're blasted apart by an exploding demon. An angel hurdles through the rubble and us to attack a black, spider-like monster behind us. It's not only demon casualties I see: Angels with torn wings, gashes on their cheeks, even those lying in lifeless heaps are scattered throughout the tent. My hands itch to use the sword, but I don't want to risk hurting a human. I don't understand how this works. It's hard to ignore the battle, to look normal to the dancing high schoolers and adults.

  Nicholas said if I agree to fight, I will blend in, look like the angels, invisible to the humans. Save them from the hideous demons snaking around them.

  But I follow Cole's lead, and I back up, moving toward the thrones, thinking that standing on the sidelines will make me inconspicuous. That's when I see him, Mr. Star. He's just standing there in his black suit, between the tent and the outside, between two pairs of dangling wings. It looks like there used to be a third pair of wings, above where he stands now, tall, at least six feet or more. Then I see them, the pair that used to be hanging above his head. They're in his hands, and he's shredding the wings with his fingers, the paper feathers fluttering to the ground like ash.

  And then they begin to burn.

  -36-

  As each feather is engulfed in flames, another human collapses. One-by-one, dancers fall to the floor, and I'm not sure what's happening. I thought they couldn't see or feel any of this. Why are they being affected all of a sudden? This can't be normal. I look to Cole for confirmation, and he looks as bewildered and as horrified as I feel.

  But then he says, "The demons are siphoning their souls, even while they're still alive."

  This is what Nicholas told me happened to me in the forest, when I lost consciousness. Siphoning the Grace from their souls.

  My eyes race through the crowd, from person to person, searching for Mitch and Rach. The fear of more loss suffocates me. I need them with me. I can't l
ose them alongside Mom and Noah. When I find them, I'm relieved and panicked at the same time, emotions playing tug of war with the breath in my lungs. I start to move, away from Cole, around the perimeter of the tent, closer to them, gripping my sword, ready to fend off any attackers. The sword begins to glow along with the peridot-like stones at my wrist and chest. Their heat and light fuel my strength, my calm. I keep one eye on the man in black, one on my friends, all the while surveying the room. I remember Marla, too, and stop in my tracks to spin and search for her. I find her sitting at a table with Nicholas and her friends. Before I can ponder the reasoning behind her keeping his company, I'm hit from the side.

  I fall hard to the floor, my ankle throbbing. Rolling, I push up and hop to a crouching position. A red-eyed demon with sharp, black wings is facing me, blood dripping from its fangs. Slowly, I rise, the tip of my sword pointed at its right eye. We circle each other, doing a battle dance. It dawns on me I need to be certain I'm invisible, that I truly am undercover. I have this urge to protect all my classmates and teachers from this hidden reality. I have a yearning to protect my friends from these monsters. We need to be safe, and right now, the sword is in my hands. I don't really have a choice anymore. There is no decision to be made. The only choice is—

  From the corner of my eye, I see a gray human-shaped demon lunging for me. The green-lit stones at my wrist, chest, and sword blaze up, their fury enlightening my every cell to the tips of my hair and angelic wings. With a flick of my arm, I slice through the air, cutting its head clean off. Seconds later, the sword is back in place before the red eye. I jab, and this demon vanishes with a poof of smoke, too. Two down, about a hundred left to go. What, is there like one demon and one angel per person in this room? Man. I can't help but glance over at Nicholas as if to say, Watch me now. I don't really expect him to be watching, but he is. I still choose no, I want to tell him. This is simply self-defense. He doesn't need to know I'm beginning to cave. Is that a small smile on his lips? Nah, impossible. Smiling is beneath him.

  I look away. All I see are demons, and I am focused on their demise.

  I’m not certain if I’m translucent or visible. It’s possible I’m flickering on and off.

  Regardless, I tear through two more snarling monsters, and then stand, ready for more. A glass shatters at my feet and ice cold punch splashes up to wet my ankle.

  I whip around. "Travis?"

  "Hey, Julia. Sorry about that." He stoops to pick up the glass shards. When he stands, sheepish and blushing, he asks, "How's it going?"

  Definitely flickering between translucent and visible.

  I note his arm in a cast and sling. "Fine." I wipe sweat and ichor from my brow and point to his arm with the hand not holding a Heavenly sword which he doesn’t seem to notice. "You doing okay?"

  "This? Yeah, nothing but a scratch. Sorry about your sweatshirt."

  My sweatshirt? Did he not realize my entire house—wardrobe included—was blown to bits? "No big deal. Sorry about your job."

  "Eh." He shrugs. "What can you do?"

  I mimic his shrug, realizing just how many people I care about are in this room. With every spin, someone new shows up and reminds me how many people there are to protect. There are no dollars signs or report card grades in the room. Suddenly, I see faces, faces of people I care about, more than I ever thought I could. Money can rebuild a diner and buy a bed for my mom, but it could never buy me another family, or more friends. I offer a sympathetic smile, but have to take off when I see a demon blowing red-tinged smoke into a girl's ear. Her eyes begin to change focus, then color. Her whole demeanor changes. I strike him down, then another. I'll keep striking down demons until this night is over.

  After that, I'll make it clear to Nicholas that I'm out. I am not a fighter, and I don't want to fight his battles for him, while he sits idly by and chats, no less!

  The room is in chaos. Some humans don't have a clue; others are panicked, though they don't know why. Some adults are stooping to help kids who seem dizzy or dazed. A couple have collapsed to the floor. The man in black is nowhere to be seen. A disco ball spins overhead. It's covered in blood and tar-black goo, but still sends off waves of sparkles across the floor and faces of high schoolers. I'm in the center of the room, so close now to where Mitch and Rach are holding one another and swaying. So cute.

  I'm hit again, and this time thrown about three feet in the opposite direction from Mitch and Rach. I've landed hard against my shoulder, and the pain shoots through me. Everything on my left side aches, my jaw, shoulder, even my pinky. Thank God I'm a right-handed swordfighter. I'd laugh out loud at this ridiculous thought, except that would hurt way too much. Plus, the demon that threw me appears to want more of me. This one has black angel wings, colorless skin, and pits for eyes. Something about it looks familiar. I prepare my sword and stand. I swipe at him, and miss. Jab, miss. Suddenly, he's at my throat, hands wrapped around.

  "Can't breathe," I wheeze.

  He only laughs, low and rumbling, like thunder. "I told you this wasn't over," he growls. My angel sight fades in and out, and as a human, I see him as the robber from my store. Same hat. Same boots. Same sneer. "You want to pretend to be Heaven's angel, but really, you're as bad as I am. All you want is money. And control. You would have killed me for it. You're not an angel; you're one of us."

  I beat at him with my fist, trying to get my sword into position to put the tip at his throat again, the way I did in the back room of our diner that morning, but he wraps his hands tighter.

  As he stands there, squeezing the air and life out of me, my mind wanders. I start to see things tinted red. My life, like a painting done in red watercolors. Dad, leaving. I remember his face the last time I saw it, sad and hopeful. I see our pitiful home, not even a bedroom for my mom. I replay all the hours spent watching her slave away while I do all the Mom work upstairs and around town. I never had a chance to be a kid. Noah never had a chance to be doted on and celebrated the way other boys in his class are by their rich parents. Money is the answer to everything. Fifty grand is nice, but one hundred grand would be better. A million, a billion would be better. And once I get it, I'll hide it away. We'll never want for anything again. Even if the rest of the world starves, I'll never part with my riches.

  That's right, little angel. Come home.

  The lights have all but gone out, so I know I have less than one breath left to take. With it, I whisper, "No." I struggle for more air. His grip loosens a tad. I twist in his arms. "It's you putting these thoughts in my mind. I will help others. Nobody should have to want or suffer." It's so hard to breathe. My voice is hoarse and my throat sore. "Humans help other humans. We help each other through this life, help each other make our way Home, not to your Hell." Black dots fill my mind, take me over. I twist again. With a final ounce of strength and breath, I say, "Which is exactly where you can go." With that, I'd planned to end him, but the talking is all I can do. His wings and pale skin is back. He has no eyes. I can't lift my arm to swing my sword. If the demon wasn't holding me upright, I'd already be in a heap on the ground, unconscious. And that's where I am a second later. I look up and see that Nicholas has stuck a sword through the demon's chest. He's ended the robber that I'd sworn to hunt down.

  That battle is over, at least.

  "This is going to be the first and last time I tell you this." Nicholas jerks me to a standing position and pulls me toward him so we are nose-to-nose. My heart hammers. I'm gasping for breath. His lips graze my cheek. He whispers, "Stay away from fallen angels."

  As I catch my breath, begin to breathe evenly, I see Cole standing where I last saw the man in the black suit. He's staring at me again, the same look on his face he had in the gym. I want to make my way to him, to figure out what's going on, but first I have to get to Rach and Mitch. They still seem oblivious to the battle raging around them, as most in the room seem to be. My right ankle, my left shoulder, and something fierce in my gut hinder my speed. I kick off my heels, getting sta
res from the people around me. Translucent my foot. Can’t trust those angels. Are the dancers starting to take notice of my haggard appearance? Whatever.

  Mr. Alex wheels in front of me. "Need help, Julia?"

  I nearly trip. "What? No. No, thank you." I fake a smile, trying to pass by him without being rude.

  "You sure?" Is he glowing? I definitely see a flicker of fire behind him. I blink, and it disappears. I've probably had a bit too much of this for my own good. Unsteady, I whisper, "Nope. Nah. Nuh uh." I point toward Mitch. "Gotta go and talk to my friend. Have a nice night."

  "Wait," he says, and bends to pick something up off the ground. My tiara. I hadn't noticed it fall. With it in his fingers, the tip of the crown grazes my ankle, and when it does, the pain there subsides. "You dropped this." I take it from him, and say nothing.

  I don't have time to think about him or anything else. I'm on the move. Finally, just two twirls away from my best friends who are kissing and in love, a demon drops from the ceiling. I scream. It has two human-like legs, eight spider-like arms, and antlers. I raise my sword over my head—and then I see it. A snake, black and green, slick and cunning, wraps itself around Mitch's throat, then Rach's. She and Mitch continue to sway, oblivious.

  "No!"

  The snake's bottomless eyes meet mine. It smiles and then its forked tongue juts out, licking Rach's cheek, her shoulder. Its tail slithers down Mitch's cheek, his shoulder. Then it wraps itself entirely around Rach's neck. It squeezes her tighter. The effect is not normal. She can feel this happening. She can't breathe.

  He's taking her soul, and she can feel it happening.

  I bring my sword down, ending the existence of the human-spider demon in front of me.