Bored with waiting the angel finally lifted his head and looked directly at him.
Quinn staggered beneath the weight of his stare, the significance of who he truly was revealed in that one simple look… and it was overwhelming. “Forgive me,” he whispered, humbled by the magnitude of the heavenly presence.
Eye’s as blue as the Earth’s sky looked him up and down. “So speak demon.” His disembodied voice once again filled the air, a deep rich tone conveying a wisdom born of ages.
“I ask your help. There’s a woman, a human woman, she’s to be offered as a sacrifice and I need to stop it from happening.” Quinn felt compelled to lower his head as he spoke, the angel’s eyes seemed to pierce right through to his very soul.
“With all the significant evils, in this world and the others, why should this woman’s survival be of any importance to me?” As is considering the request Michael slowly moved closer, circling around behind Quinn.
Clenching his fists in order to still the anger broiling in the pit of his stomach, Quinn couldn’t help but feel somewhat like a deer being stalked by its prey. “Because she is an innocent!” he replied, uncomfortable under the angel’s close scrutiny.
“Then her death will be of no consequence, she will be rewarded with a place in my father’s house.” With that the Archangel turned to leave.
“But she’s no ordinary innocent,” Quinn hurriedly replied shocked by the abrupt dismissal, “she’s the 999th soul to enter Redemption.”
The Archangel finally responded, raising his stare to meet Quinn’s.
Seeing the tiniest of responses Quinn pressed forward, determined to win his case. “I am assuming you are aware of the Codex Seal and the prophecy regarding the 999th.”
“I am,” came the disembodied reply.
“The woman – Darla,” even the mention of her name invoked feelings deep within him, “she’s to be sacrificed this very night with the soul intention of fulfilling the prophecy; the spilling of her blood, an act that will topple the very gates of heaven.”
Quinn couldn’t tell what the angel was thinking; his face remained a perfect mask of indifference.
Michael slowly paced, his hands clasped behind his back in silent contemplation. “Do you know who is behind this?” Although he glanced in Quinn’s direction, his voice still retained its disembodied form.
. “Beelzebub, Lord of the Nephalim.”
Michael turned away to gaze at the panoramic view, but not before Quinn had seen the tiny flicker of something unguarded in the angel’s eyes. Several moments passed in silence.
“I cannot help you,” he finally said, a small frown appearing at the bridge of his nose.
Quinn couldn’t decide which had surprized him the most, the angels decision or the way in which he had conveyed it. For the first time since responding to Quinn’s summons, Michael had spoken with the words falling directly from his lips.
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t help?” his voice was low, menacing, his hands curling into tight balls at his side. “I just told you that one of your ex-assholes is trying to force their way back into Heaven at the expense of an innocent, now just how does that not deserve divine intervention?”
“It is beyond my power. But do not fear, your friend will be well taken care of, you have my word on that.” Displaying a total lack of emotion, Michael turned and slowly made his way back towards the place he had first appeared.
With the cold casual dismissal of Darla’s life Quinn recklessly charged across the small clearing, anger overriding all sense. “You sonofabitch! You WILL NOT allow her to die,” he snarled overwhelmed with fury.
Unperturbed by Quinn’s display of rage Michael calmly turned to face him, his mesmerising eyes belaying some small sign of interest. A reaction completely overlooked by Quinn in his current state.
Barely a foot from the enigmatic angel Quinn came to an abrupt halt, recoiling as if colliding head on with a freight train. His entire body ground to a standstill, frozen in place and locked down tight leaving him completely immobilised. Not bothering to look down, he knew instinctively he was no longer grounded. Unlike Beelzebub’s attack, this time Quinn could feel everything; was aware of everything; could sense everything but unable to move even the tiniest of muscles in his body.
“Have you forgotten who it is you are speaking to?” The angel’s voice was low and impassive and yet projected all the threatening elements necessary.
“Forgotten? No! Maybe I just don’t give a shit.” Quinn hissed finding he hadn’t lost the ability to speak. “That’s the problem with you goddamn angels you keep yourselves so cold and detached from everyone that you can’t even see when you’re in the wrong.”
Michael silently circled Quinn’s elevated body. “You used the words ‘Will not’ when you tried to command me. I think you should explain to me why it is you feel I should intervene?” Michael’s head cocked to the side questioningly.
“Oh I don’t know, maybe because she’s a fucking innocent, pure of all sin you sonofa…” Quinn spat the words with as much contempt as he could muster.
Michael fixed the demon with a piercing stare and Quinn’s chest automatically started tightening making it difficult for him to breathe. Struggling to inhale he could feel his face beginning to redden and then just as suddenly as it had started, the air flooded back into his chest and Michael resumed his slow circling.
Recovering from his attack Quinn quietly seethed while studying the angel as he passed in front of his suspended body. Any pre-conceived idea of how an angel should appear was instantly dismissed in light of the noticeable absence of wings. Having experienced his own dark transformation as a fledgling adolescent, Quinn wondered why that detail should surprized him so.
“Just because you cannot see them it does not mean they are not there.” The angel said softly, surprising Quinn by his intuitive guess, or had he in fact just plucked the thought from his mind? “Regarding your friend,” Michael continued, “I cannot reiterate enough that you truly should have no worries regarding her well-being. I can promise you now her sacrifice shall not go unrewarded. She will be made welcome in God’s house.”
Quinn stared incredulously. “What fucking house? Do you truly believe that heaven will continue to exist without its gates to protect it from the Fallen and that’s before the whole shitload of other demons come calling with or without an invite? Without the gates protection the worst kind of evil will storm and destroy your holy city. Is that really what you want?” he glared.
Michael levelled Quinn with an impassive stare. “I fought my brothers once before and defeated them. Should the need ever arise I would not hesitate in doing the same again in order to protect my father’s house.”
“Then why not do something now before Heaven becomes vulnerable?”
“Because nothing you have said here today has swayed my opinion. Now I must return.” Michael turned to leave.
Quinn felt a rising panic. “No please wait…! You can’t just walk away.” Quinn could hear the desperation in his voice.
The angel paused momentarily. “Why not? My conscience is clear.”
Quinn desperately searched for an answer. Anything that would sway Michael from leaving destroying Darla’s… his last hope.
“Because with all the pain and suffering she has endured in her God-damn life never once did she lose faith. Never once did she turn her back on God. That should at least acount for something.”
“But have you forgotten demon, it was my help you asked for. I am not God. What she has or has not done in the past has no bearing on my decision. Nothing you have said here today has given me just cause to intervene. Our time here has now come to an end. I have other duties that I must attend to.” Michael released Quinn from his suspended prison with the barest flick of his fingers.
Quinn collapsed to his knees engulfed in dread. Resigned in his own failure to protect Darla, he spoke the words he never thought he would hear from his own mouth. “Does who I am
mean nothing to you?”
Michael looked back at him. “Who you are- albeit intriguing- has no true relevance or bearing on your request. Were the demands on my time not so heavily pressed or your emotions not so dangerously fraught, who you are could have made for a most interesting conversation. Unfortunately my time is always valuable and extremely accountable for and I have already wasted far too much of it.”
“I am begging you please do not abandon her.”
Facing the tormented demon, Michael hesitated. With his hands idly clasped, resting in the small of his back, he seemed to ponder on the statement. “Very well demon, I will ask you once more and I suggest you consider your answer wisely as this time there will be no concessions.” His voice filled the air around them. “Why is this particular human so worthy of saving? Why is she so important to you, a demon who isolates himself from this and all other worlds?”
Quinn frantically searched for an answer, the right answer, one that would make the angel stay. To have Michael on side would give them the hope they needed in defeating Beelzebub. A chance to enforce the promise he had made- to protect her for as long as there was still life in his body. A niggling doubt suddenly occurred. Why make such a promise? It made no sense.
Would his life be so very different without her?
Surely if the worse were to happen, wouldn’t he simply revert back to life as it was before he had retrieved the blue eyed beauty from a barren plateau? There was no denying her delectable body stirred his senses beyond reasonable sanity but physical satisfaction could be acquired from any number of exotic beauties. So what was it about her? What had she done that had made his life seem so empty before?
He quickly processed the past few days. She had surprized him right from the very first moment they had met. Her lack of dramatics in the face of danger, no unnecessary tears or hysterics; her unwavering courage and skill fighting the Deathseekers; her strength and dexterity during their journey to Mama Grace’s, never once complaining even when her body had passed well beyond exhaustion; these were qualities he always admired in friends. Even her open and unbiased nature in not only accepting his friends but embracing who they were with genuine warmth and friendship was amazing to behold. Even witnessing her wondrous joy at the discovery of beauty in a world he had learnt to take for granted had been a pleasure to behold. These were the qualities that made her so special, the reason why his life was so much richer with her in it. And these were the things that made him…
“Wait!” Quinn gasped at the silently retreating figure.
“You have an answer for me demon?” Michael asked, brows raised.
“You can’t let her die because… ” Quinn faltered; hearing the words inside his head was a world away from speaking them out loud. Could such a reason sway the opinion of an angel?
“Because?” Michael waited.
“Because… because I love her. My life would mean nothing without her.” Defeated by his admission Quinn slumped forward, his body suddenly drained of energy, his last glimmer of hope fading slowly from the realisation of what he said was true. Life without Darla was no life at all.
Sensing a shadow pass over him Quinn lifted his face to meet the startling blue eyes of the angel peering intently into his.
“Love!” The angel paused as if analysing the word he had finally spoken out loud. Crouching down he studied the man opposite, his normally impassive expression now looking puzzled and …intrigued? “Love is always something to fight for. It is the greatest gift God gave to man; strong enough to evoke tears in even the bravest of warriors and potent enough to destroy nations. Human history is built on such legends; Cleopatra and Mark Antony, Napoleon and Josephine, Paris and Helen – all great lovers who altered the course of history by simply allowing their love to take shape and define who they were. It seems that when one experiences true and meaningful love, it is the closest thing you would ever feel to basking in God’s holy light. Not something to be dismissed lightly, even by an Archangel.”
“Come.” Michael helped Quinn to his feet. “Rest assured that I will do all that I can in convincing my father to allow me to intervene.”
Quinn walked back with Michael to the place where he had first appeared.
“Go, join your friends. They approach the boarders of the Land of the Nephalim even as we speak. And Quinn… I truly hope I do not fail you, but should the worse happen, promise me you will not let your female die alone. She sounds remarkable!”
“She is,” he agreed without the slightest hesitation.
“God willing I will join you soon.” On that promise Michael leapt into the air at a phenomenal rate of speed his loose linen shirt vanishing from sight as two majestic wings appeared at will. Soaring above the mountain his last visual trace resembled a tiny white light ascending above the clouds like a shooting star returning to the heavens.
Alone on the mountain top Quinn prayed for the first time in years for the angel’s success. Time was running out for them, the prophesised event growing ever closer. Maybe there was still a chance of a rescue even without the Archangel’s help.
Quinn formed an image of Valmont in his mind, the only element necessary in blinking to the vampire’s location. With the image firmly fixed he blinked twice his body embracing the familiar charge of static electricity as he dematerialised.
* * * *
Darla lifted her head of her chest; the innocuous movement inadvertently antagonising the dull throbbing pain on side of her head. Gingerly she opened her eyes, adjusting her vision to her dimly lit surroundings.
“Ah, I am pleased to see you have re-joined us my dear.”
Confused and perplexed Darla looked down the large expanse of table where she found herself seated, seeking the source of the exotic sounding voice. The slight jerk of her head produced a sharp wince of pain and her stomach roiled causing a rebellious wave of nausea.
“You might want to take it a little slower, just until you adjust. That was some knock you took. Thank the heavens you’re made of tougher stuff than some humans.”
Darla studied the owner of the exotic voice who was seated opposite her, a broad smile covering his face the warmth of which didn’t quite reach his eyes. And extraordinary looking eyes they were too, molten amber slits more resembling those of a cat than a human. Dark dreadlocks reaching almost to the broad expanse of his shoulders enhanced his striking appearance and his dark tanned skin added to the exotic facade. Darla could almost taste the menace emanating from his deceptively relaxed appearance. Beautiful and dangerous, a perilous combination in any situation.
“You were the one who grabbed me…in the tower.” she stated, recognising him immediately.
“I was. Couldn’t let you fall to your death now could I?”
“Of course not, that would have totally ruined you plans, wouldn’t it?” she scoffed sarcastically at his insinuation that he had done her a favour in saving her.
With the pain in her head easing, Darla looked down furiously noting her change in attire. “Perhaps you could tell me who thought it appropriate to change my clothes while I was out cold?”
Knowing that someone had striped her whilst she was in such a vulnerable state made her feel violated not to mention sick to her stomach. And the dress she was now wearing, well…that just inflamed her anger. The deep red figure hugging fabric clung to her skin leaving little to the imagination, not that it really mattered as the deep plunging neckline exposing far more of the generous swell of her breasts than it actually managed to cover. The rest of the gown fell in deep generous folds from her hips to her ankles covering far more below her waist than above.
“Let me reassure you it was all done appropriately by a female member of my staff. Nothing untoward took place.” Her captor explained as if reading her thoughts. “I’m a demon not a monster.” he smiled.
“No you’re just a murderer!”
Surprised by her directness her captor dropped the fake smile. “So I guess we can dispense with the pleas
antries. You are quite obviously aware of my plans. Mama Grace I assume?”
Darla stared back, refusing to confirm or deny.
“Then perhaps I should introduce myself properly. My name is Beelzebub; I am Lord of the Nephalim.”
Darla’s jaw dropped. The name Beelzebub was synonymous with evil and one which was well known to her. Deep rooted in the archives of many religions he had often been mistaken as Satan himself.
“I take it from your reaction you have heard of me before, by your clergy I would imagine. Misguided fools! All of them!” The vehemence in his voice was unmistakable. Beelzebub’s opinion of the clergy seemed to be on par with their opinion of him.
“And yet the church teaches us that all evil is never to be trusted. Forgive me if I have been misinformed but how exactly would you categorise kidnapping with intent to kill?”
Beelzebub levelled her with a look that would strike fear in most, his amber eyes glowering dangerously in the dim candlelight of the grand dining room. “You hold such strong opinions for someone who is so poorly informed to the truth of things,” he hissed between clenched teeth. The dark shadows that played across his face intensified his aura of danger.
“Very well then.” Feigning a relaxed confidence she far from felt, Darla leaned back into the ornately carved dining chair, appearing completely at ease. “Convince me.” Enjoying the ill-disguised look of surprise on his face she felt her confidence grow. “Why don’t you help me to understand how murdering someone for your own personal gain is anything but an act of pure unadulterated evil.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Beelzebub leant back in his chair while pondering Darla’s challenge; his relaxed posture mimicking that of his captive.
He had to admit most humans didn’t intrigue him enough to capture his interest. Spoilt, selfish creatures, they rushed through their fragile little lives unaware of just how inconsequential their existence truly was. Conceited enough to place themselves at the top of the food chain, they had no inkling of the superior life forms that walked among them, shrouded in darkness, permitting the insignificant little mortals to claim the light while they stalked from the shadows. How could anyone not despise such a race?
Redemption - A Darla Gray Novel Page 23
