[Anthology] The Paranormal 13- now With a Bonus 14th Novel!

by Dima Zales

  “You never did explain that to me properly. I thought creatures from Hell couldn’t appear on Earth.”

  “They can’t. Hellhounds are usually just stray dogs that the demons use their influence over to corrupt them into monsters. It’s sort of a loophole.” He pressed the towel a little harder into my neck, causing me to hiss and his brow to furrow even deeper.

  “I’m alright,” I asserted, taking the cloth from him to mop up the blood. It seemed almost a shame for all that pure white to be marred with crimson.

  He frowned at me. “How are you anywhere near alright, Jordan?”

  I shrugged again, regretting it as the claw mark on my shoulder stung. “You taught me well, after all.”

  Michael shook his head. “Don’t try to change the subject. I shouldn’t have let you go out on your own. It was stupid of me.”

  It was my turn to frown this time. “What? Am I your pet? You don’t run my life, Michael.”

  His gaze hardened. “That’s not what I meant. You told me before that you’d be careful and now look at you. You almost got eaten by a hellhound all because you wanted to go on a date with your ex-boyfriend.”

  I pushed his hand out of the way when he reached for the towel, standing up. He stood too, appearing worried that I’d topple over from blood loss but I didn’t. My anger had somehow given me enough strength to glare up at him.

  “It wasn’t a date—it was a meeting. Besides, why should you care?”

  “Last time I checked I was your emotional support,” he retorted a mildly sarcastic voice. “I can’t perform my duties if I don’t know the whole story.”

  A tired sigh escaped my throat. “What do you want me to say? I don’t know how I feel about him any more than you do.”

  “Then why are you pursuing this relationship at all?”

  My mouth fell open. “You—you’re the one who asked me if I would ever consider getting back with him! Are you really giving me lip after you suggested it?”

  Michael’s face became stubborn. “Oh, great. So you ignore everything else I say to you except when it comes to this guy. That makes a lot of sense.”

  “This isn’t about you, Michael.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “On that we agree.”

  His words stopped me. I had another angry retort prepared, but something stopped me. It was the way he said that last sentence and how waves of irritation seemed to pour off of him like a warm cloud of cologne that made me realize a startling truth.

  “Michael…are you jealous?”

  Silence spilled around us. Then, slowly, his expression began to recede from angry into something much harder to place. The frown disappeared and a very strange smirk touched his lips as he ran a hand through his dark, damp hair.

  “Jealous, huh?”

  He walked towards me. Normally, Michael was an open book of emotions: happiness, sadness, humor, compassion—all of them he wore on his sleeve like badges of honor. This walk I had not seen before. There was something in his body language that made my throat dry and my palms sweaty. He stalked towards me with the grace I only saw on National Geographic channel in the powerful movements of a lion on the plains of Africa—a predator closing in on the helpless prey.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have a plain to run around on, so I backpedaled until my bare back pressed into the wall, the towel slipping from my slackened grip and onto the floor. My pulse skyrocketed when he stopped mere inches away, staring down at me with an unfamiliar heat in his gaze. The angel had vanished and the man stood in his place.

  “My purpose on this Earth is to serve my Father and protect mankind from evil. It might not seem obvious, but I’m continuing my mission through protecting you, Jordan.”

  He lifted an arm and pressed his palm against the wall to the right of my head, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “In order to do this, I’ve had to train myself not to feel the same human emotions that you deal with on a daily basis—greed, gluttony, wrath, sloth, pride, envy, and lust.”

  When he said lust, the other arm rose to parallel the first on the left side of my head, effectively trapping me. I couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. Words died in my throat—words that should have gotten me out of this dangerous situation. Distantly, I realized Michael wasn’t using his influence on me. This was the sheer power of his presence.

  “So when you ask me if I’m jealous, you already know the answer because part of me is human. What you should be asking me is why I’m jealous, considering I have no right to be. Terrell is a good man. He could give you a comfortable life, keep you safe, and treat you well. I should want that for you. I should be willing to step back and let you live your own life. I should remember my place as an archangel under God’s direct orders. Why do you think I can’t do that, Jordan?”

  I swallowed, imploring my lungs to fill with air enough to answer the question, though for the life of me I couldn’t keep from stammering. “I-I don’t know.”

  His face drifted close enough that I could smell the faint scent of his shampoo and the sweet spice of his aftershave, close enough that I could feel the warm air from each breath across my neck, close enough that goosebumps rolled over my arms from the thrill of being so near a handsome, nearly naked male body.

  “I think you do know. You know exactly what I’m thinking right now, because you’re thinking the same thing, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

  I closed my eyes in an attempt to regain composure. “We should…probably patch me up. Don’t want to die from blood loss.”

  “You’re right. Hold still.” Confused, I opened my eyes again to see him leaning towards the claw mark the beast had left on my collarbone, seeming as if he were going to kiss it. I pressed my palms against his chest to stop him, regretting it as my fingers came in contact with his firm skin.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s faster if I use my healing energy.”

  “Y-Yeah, but when Raphael did it he used his hands,” I insisted.

  He smiled that secretive smile again. “True, but you made me angry. Consider this your punishment.”

  Before I could say anything else, he lowered his mouth to my collarbone and kissed the torn skin. I hissed, flinching as it stung, but then something else happened. The cut tingled as if he’d poured rubbing alcohol over it, grew cold, and the skin re-knit itself as if it had never been damaged. No more blood, no more pain, no more mess. I hadn’t been awake to experience this kind of rapid healing the first time. During our sessions, Raphael had merely run his hands over the wounds and they gradually closed up. Michael’s method was nothing like his, probably for good reason.

  There were three areas of scratches left on my body: the ones on my neck, the ones of my upper stomach, and the ones on my inner right forearm. My heart thudded inside my chest like an animal trying to escape its cage, but I had been trapped. Michael lifted my arm in one hand and trailed his lips across the delicate skin, sending goosebumps all the way to my fingertips. I could feel tremors going up my spine from the sensations and from the knowledge that he was doing something so intimate on purpose—dragging my very human desires out from depths of where I’d locked them in my mind. Damn him.

  Now that the wounds on my arm had disappeared, he reached for the knot at the base of my neck that held up the dress. I panicked, afraid of what would happen if I let him. I caught his wrist, whispering his name. He held me with his heated gaze, his tone low and soft.

  “Who don’t you trust? Me or you?”

  My lips barely moved. “Both.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  I swallowed hard. “Not being able to stop.”

  A look went through his eyes that made my breath catch. “Let me worry about that.”

  He tugged the knot loose. I didn’t stop him. The front of the black dress crumpled until the front lay a
few inches above my waist, exposing my upper body clothed only by a black strapless bra. Michael’s gaze could have burned a hole through solid steel and it was aimed at me. God help us both.

  Time seemed to slow as he leaned over my neck and kissed the first scratch, sending waves of warmth through me that made my eyes flutter shut. He sighed and then inhaled the scent of my skin as if it supplied him with air to breathe. My knees nearly gave out as his tongue flicked across the second scratch, simultaneously agitating and soothing it. My hands came to rest on his broad shoulders, feeling the heat that seemed to permeate us both. One more left. Those soft lips caressed the third mark and made it disappear, leaving only the clean line of my throat for him to explore. He kissed over my pulse, the edge of my jaw, so carefully, as if he were sure I’d shatter from too much pressure.

  I gasped as he lowered one hand to the dress and tugged it down several more inches, until the cuts on the upper portion my abs were exposed. Michael dropped to one knee and slid his hands over my waist, holding me still as his hot breath curled across my stomach. When his mouth passed over the wounds, my breathing became strained and weak. That same boiling metaphysical warmth from the last time we’d kissed flooded over me in a sudden rush, erasing whatever hesitance I had left. After the cuts closed and he stood to full height, I knew there was no turning back. Now or never. Now sounded very attractive.

  Michael didn’t hesitate either. In an instant, his body pinned mine against the wall and he kissed me, but it was different from before. This was a kiss. Eyes closed, lips parted, breath unsteady, tongue tracing a tantalizing line across my bottom lip. I had never in all my life been kissed like that, not by Terrell and not by any other temporary boyfriend I’d acquired. At first, his large hands cradled my cheeks to hold me still but the deeper the kiss became, the lower they sank. Down my neck, over my shoulders, brushing the sides of my bra, and finally settling on my hips. My knees were getting weaker and weaker by the second as his fingers drifted down into the crinkled half of the dress and just barely grazed my thighs.

  Just when I thought I’d collapse, he wrapped his arms around the back of my legs and picked me up, raising me to his height. I ended up suspended in the air with Michael’s lips trailing a line of heat down to the spot where my cleavage began. I honestly didn’t give a shit about the consequences, especially not when I felt one of his thumbs caressing the delicate curve between my inner thigh and hipbone. My thighs acted on their own, encircling his waist, driving a muted hiss of pleasure from the both of us. The towel did him no justice. He was definitely the Commander for a reason.

  All at once, there was a loud knock at the door.

  Shit.

  Michael moved first because I was too, ahem, distracted. He lifted his face enough to look me in the eye. I had to remind myself we had company because his gaze still held enough lust to eradicate all of my will power.

  “I should probably answer that, hm?”

  My voice was practically breathless. “Probably.”

  He seemed to think about it for a moment before sighing and lowering me to the floor. Finally embarrassed, I pulled the dress back up and fastened it, trying not to think about the fact that Michael watched me with a sort of defeated expression. I opened my mouth to speak, but he leaned down and kissed me, quick, firm, and luscious, before answering the door.

  Gabriel stood there in all his cock-blocking blond glory with a dead serious look on his angelic face.

  “Trouble. Follow me.”

  Michael barely had enough time to throw on his clothes. All I could do was toss off my heels and replace them with Reeboks before we followed Gabriel out the door. I didn’t know if he had deduced what we’d been doing in our hotel room, but either way it didn’t seem to matter. His brow was set firm in a frown—a look of determination I had only seen once, on a rooftop while he fought the demon Belial. Gabriel was always smiling, always serene, always kind. Seeing him like this scared me.

  “What’s going on?” Michael demanded, trying to catch up with his brother’s quick pace through the lobby of the hotel. When we got outside, Gabriel stood still on the sidewalk and pointed to his left.

  “Look.”

  I stared about, watching pedestrians walking up and down the streets. “Look at what? What are you—”

  Then I saw them. People were walking in the same direction Gabriel was pointing, but that wasn’t the strangest part. Some of them wandered into the streets and cars passed right through them. My jaw dropped.

  There were at least fifty ghosts walking down the street.

  “God…what’s going on?” I whispered, eyes searching through the dead masses for a head count. I had been right. So far, I counted fifty-two ghosts.

  “Something is calling to these spirits. I believe it is the sliver of the True Cross.” Gabriel said.

  Michael’s jaw clenched. “I know for a fact none of the angels acquired it. Which means—”

  “—one of the demons got their hands on it. We must move quickly. Follow them.”

  We jogged through the crowds, trying to catch up to see just where the ghosts were heading. Each one I passed had a blank, almost dreamy expression, as if their minds were far away.

  “I don’t get it,” I said as I followed the angels. “Why would the True Cross Sliver attract so many spirits?”

  “The True Cross is a bridge between the living and the dead.” Gabriel said. “Christ gave up human life and died on that sacred wood so it is symbolic of humanity in both aspects. The dead are drawn to it because it is where he conquered death itself.”

  We rounded another corner. The ghosts had led us into the park. We followed the gravel path through the woods to the lake where an entire horde of ghosts gathered. There had to be over a hundred here already.

  I squinted as we came down the hill. A man in a tuxedo stood by the edge of the lake with his back to us. I brushed through the crowd of ghosts, ignoring the cold sensations their forms rippled across my skin. With a start, I realized I knew him.

  “Terrell?”

  He turned. “Jordan? I was wondering where you were. You weren’t at the hotel and you didn’t pick up your phone, so I came here looking for you.”

  “Jordan!” Michael called.

  I waved a hand at him to dismiss the worried tone in his voice. “Don’t worry, I know him.”

  I turned back to Terrell. “Look, I need you to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

  “Get away from him,” Michael ordered, his hands balling into fists.

  I glared at him. “Michael, this isn’t the time for that. We’ve got bigger problems right now and I don’t need you getting overprotective—”

  “Jordan, listen to me. That is not your ex-boyfriend.”

  I stared at him. “What are you talking about? I’ve been seeing him all week.”

  Terrell wrapped one arm around my shoulders, cradling me against the front of his body, and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

  “And thus, I clothe my naked villainy with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ, and seem a saint when most I play the Devil.”

  I recognized that quote. Shakespeare. “Terrell, what’s going on?”

  He kissed the shell of my ear and spoke again. “I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you…my pet.”

  A cold shock went through me. No. Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

  “I want you to know that this façade was not the reunion I had planned for us, but it was suitable for my needs. If I had things my way, I would have taken my time in seducing you and getting you to trust me, but these aren’t reasonable times and the Master grows impatient.”

  Terrell’s normally warm voice had become bone-chillingly cold. It held a disgusting element of arrogance to it that he never had before. His words seeped into my skin like poison, filling my veins with a sickening feeling. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

  I shook my head, too numb to turn around and see his face, the face I had kissed a thousand ti
mes, the face that promised me the world, the face that wanted two kids and a dog and a white picket fence. “Can’t be you. Two souls can’t share a body. It’s not you.”

  “You’re quite right, Jordan. That is exactly why I killed him and took his body.”

  Just as he spoke, the tip of a blade pressed into my spine, right at the small of my back. The air left my lungs. I just stood there. My lips barely moved enough to form the words.

  “You killed him.”

  The archdemon sighed in a melodramatic way. “He was necessary. I wouldn’t have been able to manipulate you otherwise. It was tedious, but I spent our time apart studying his every move, his thoughts, his gestures, until I could copy them exactly. If it’s any consolation, he died an honorable death. He would have made you proud, sweet Jordan.”

  Numb. All numb. Head spinning. Stomach churning. Eyes dim. Dead. My ex-boyfriend was dead because of me. I killed him. I killed Terrell. Blood was on my hands once again. So much blood.

  “Jordan…” Michael took a step forward.

  Belial jabbed the knife into my back, making me flinch and the angel freeze in place. “One more step and I’ll split her in half. We only need her blood, not her life. Why else would we send the hellhound?”

  Gabriel’s blue eyes narrowed. “We?”

  Belial chuckled. “Yes, we. You know I am nothing without my right hand man. Well, woman. Mulciber?”

  The other demon approached from the edge of the woods to our left, walking calmly towards our little Mexican standoff as if it were nothing more than a picnic. Her new body came in the form of a Vietnamese woman with long, dark hair and brown eyes set in a round face. I was still too numb to care about her sudden appearance.

  “My, my. We have quite the reunion going on tonight, do we not?”

  “You have exactly five seconds to let go of her before I tear out your spine, demon,” Michael growled, green eyes narrowed to slits. Gabriel whispered his name, placing a gentle hand on his arm.