Dark Angel

by Amanda Jones

  Outer-Sheol was divided into quadrants in order to maintain a relative peace. Not all species of demons played well with others. Each quadrant was sealed off with electrified razor-wire fencing and policed by Iustus demons, which had the ability to mentally connect to those around them, seeing their motivation and intent. The city was filled with high-rise living, all grey and black brick buildings. Gaslights lit the cobbled streets. With very little natural light in the Netherworld, the city had a constant appearance of being in falling twilight. The farther one got from the center of the city and its approximate one hundred thousand inhabitants, the more decrepit and crumbling the buildings and streets became.

  The city was laid out with the main Portal at its center, everything else radiated outward like a spiderweb until you hit the Roman-style wall that encircled the area. A thick, black smoke spiraled upwards beyond the reaches of the wall into the sky giving the appearance that the heavy stones smoldered. Directly outside the wall was a fiery lake that went on as far as the eye could see. A small, thin stone bridge led outside the city across the fiery expanse and disappeared into the distance, providing the only way in or out of the city by foot.

  Luc headed down the lamp-lit street directly in front of him. He needed to reach the quadrant where the Jinn lived. They were a notoriously secretive species of demon, often coming and going without detection. They often worked in the human world and were quite successful, given their ability to effectively spy on others without being seen. They could render themselves invisible to the naked eye by hiding in the spirit world and gathering information. If only the humans knew that some of their top corporate CEOs were Jinn conducting their own specialized form of corporate espionage. The Jinn also had the ability to travel rather conveniently through flight, a super-sonic run, or through Spirit-Walking.

  Luc was looking for one of the Jinn in particular. He had helped Amir out of a sticky situation a few centuries ago and was owed a favor…a big one. Luc walked up to the imposing fifteen-foot-high wall and gate of the Jinn complex in the most posh area of the city. An Iustus demon stepped out of the adjoining gatehouse at his approach. He was dressed in military-style fatigues, his bald head gleaming in the glow of the lamplight which illuminated the scales of justice marked on his forehead. Two small green horns stood out on each side of the marking. Stepping directly in front of the Iustus, Luc stopped and looked directly into his eyes. As the Iustus nodded in greeting, his irises turned black and expanded engulfing the whites of his eyes. A moment later, the Iustus broke eye contact, glancing down then back up. His eyes had returned to their natural red hue. He nodded again and motioned Luc forward as the gate began to open.

  There was nobody in the courtyard or entryway of Amir’s building. Luc took the elevator up to the twenty-third floor, headed right, and took the hallway to Amir’s suite. The door swung open — just as Luc was about to knock, leaving him with his fist hanging in the air — to reveal a handsome man with darkly-tanned skin, closely cropped hair, and startling honey-colored eyes.

  “Long time no see. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

  “Amir, how the hell did you know I was at the door? I didn’t even get a chance to knock.”

  Amir gave Luc an amused look and shook his head. “When are you going to learn, man? I could hear you coming as soon as you got off the elevator.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I heard your thoughts as soon as you stepped off the elevator, smart guy. You can block your thoughts from most supes, but Jinn are different. Remind me to teach you some time. So, are you going to just stand there or are you going to come in and ask me what you came here to ask me? Or should I just keep pulling it right out of your head?”

  Luc sighed, shrugged, and stepped over the threshold. “I like you too much to leave this to chance. I know how the Jinn work — if I ask you formally for the favor, it will release you from owing me anything else. So let’s do this right.”

  Amir smiled at him and shook his head. “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you with that info when you helped me out. Not many people would willingly free a Jinn from a favor, but you’re a good friend. Why don’t we have a seat?” Luc headed across the living room and had a seat on the L-shaped couch. Amir headed over to the mini bar on the other side of the room. “Want a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I need to take care of this little issue as soon as possible and I can’t afford to be half in the bag when I’m at it.”

  “All right then, I’ll be having a nip, though, if you don’t mind. I think I’ll need it to hear what you’re going to ask me for.” Amir poured himself a shot of gin and dumped a healthy dose of Salvia powder from the small sparkling crystal bottle. He made his way over to the couch and took a seat.

  Luc surveyed the apartment slowly and turned back to Amir with a quizzical look. “Before we get started, what happened to Amina? There used to be photos of you two everywhere around here. Now they’re all gone.”

  Amir sighed, took a swig of his drink, and set it down on the coffee table. “It was only a matter of time before she found out about ‘the incident.’ Once she did, she was out of here at lightning speed. You know, it’s the most humiliating thing that can happen to a Jinn; she couldn’t risk the embarrassment of staying with me and having someone from the high council find out. She would never have lived it down. She knew the only way I’d have been imprisoned was if I’d given away a Jinn weakness…and to a human, no less. It’s embarrassing for my family. I should have read Jasmine and known, but I didn’t want to invade her mind. I thought we wanted the same thing, a real relationship, and I wanted to trust her, to be like a human for her.” He shook his head again and looked pointedly at Luc. “Stupid, I know. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be bound to her. I owe you my freedom.”

  “I’m just glad I was able to get you out of there.”

  Luc was about to head back to The Advocate and send off a duty report to the big boss through Red Devil, when he’d noticed a pretty, young woman ducking into a side alley. A bit unusual, but it had been the furtive glances, and the faint glow of magic around her that had caught and held Luc’s attention. He decided to follow her, keeping to the shadows.

  Luc had watched as she had taken a small, antique, compact mirror out of her purse. She had rubbed the surface of the mirror muttering a quiet incantation under her breath. A thin thread of smoke curled out of the surface of the mirror, growing larger and larger until it had coalesced into the form of a man. Color and substance took hold and there stood Amir, summoned from the mirror to do Jasmine’s bidding. The Jinn could be bound to any object, and much like the fairy tale of Aladdin and the lamp, they were required to grant “wishes” of sorts. There was no limit to the amount of magic they were required to bestow upon their masters.

  He had heard stories of the Jinn for millennia, had met many, but had never seen one captive, as the Jinn were known for keeping their abilities and weaknesses close to the vest. He remembered hearing stories of Jinn. The rumor was that there was only one way to free a captive Jinn — destroy the object that held him. Luc had managed to wrest the mirror from Jasmine and had smashed the glass. Amir had been freed from servitude, but had now been indebted to Luc per Jinn custom. The rescue of a Jinn required the return of a favour at the rescuer’s discretion. The Jinn would essentially be caught in a waiting game until a favor was called in.

  Luc was finally about to call in his favor.

  “Ok, here’s the deal. I’m officially asking you to do me the favor of Spirit-Walking me to Halja Castle. After that, I need you to pull your 007 act and get any info you can on the search for a Chimera. If you can also give me a lift back to Outer-Sheol when we’re done, that would rock my Netherworld.”

  Amir laughed. “No problem, my friend. I’ll get you in and out. Now that we’ve gotten that out in the open, what the hell is this about a Chimera? They don’t exist.”

  “They’re not supposed to, but we’ve got it on good authority that somethi
ng’s going down. You know the legends — he binds himself to a Chimera and he can travel to any plane. Not good. I may be stuck serving him, but I have no interest in seeing Satan ruling the earthly plane as well as Sheol, never mind starting a war with the Deity and my former angelic brethren.”

  “Wow, okay. I never thought I’d be involved in something of apocalyptic proportions. Guess it would be useless to point out that, if we get caught, we’ll wind up in a world of hurt.”

  “Been there; got the T-shirt.”

  Amir sighed, “Okey dokey then. When do you want to do this? Are we working on a timeline here? Do I have time to update my will or anything? If we’re caught and tortured, I’m sure the big guy will eventually kill us once he’s done having fun with us. If he doesn’t, we’ll wish we were dead anyway.”

  With a rueful look, Luc shook his head. “No time to spare. I got a summons to be at Halja in six hours. That was about two hours ago, so we need to head out soon. Otherwise, I’ll be spending more quality time with that shithead of a demon, Voss, and his bone knife.”

  “All right then, we might as well head out. Sheol help us both.”

  Chapter Four

  Lucifer

  The swirling, smoky mist twisted around them as Amir and Luc stepped through the curtain he’d opened between Sheol and the spirit world. Spirit-Walking was a lot less disconcerting to Luc than the Portals. The mist closed in behind them, and Luc began to feel as though he was in a waking dream. One didn’t actually see a world of spirits, but a long, smoky hallway that appeared to stretch infinitely in both directions. Doorways were visible at varying intervals with a soft light glowing around the space between the door and the frame. Every doorway was an exit into the living world. They began walking down the hallway, passing multiple doors. The mist grew thicker and thinner with no rhyme or reason as they walked.

  Time and space operated differently in this realm. Five minutes in this hallway could translate into hours in regular time or into mere seconds.

  Luc had done this walk a few times in the past with Amir, but still didn’t have any inkling of how Amir knew where he was going. How Amir knew which doorway to take was a mystery to Luc, but he never seemed to open the wrong one. He had once explained that he got a “feeling” when he was at the door corresponding to the location in which he wanted to emerge, as though every door had some kind of aura. If that was the case, Luc certainly couldn’t tell the difference and determined it must be an innate Jinn thing.

  They walked on in silence for what seemed like an hour before Amir suddenly stopped in front of one of the doors. He placed his palm flat on the surface of the door and closed his eyes. Moments later he opened them and turned to Luc with a tight expression. “This is the one.”

  Luc nodded and put his hand on Amir’s shoulder. They had to remain in contact in order for Luc to pass through the doorway to the destination, otherwise he would become trapped and lost in the twisting fog of the spirit world. “Okay, let’s do this.” Reaching forward, Amir grabbed the knob, turned it, and opened the door.

  What came into view was always a daunting scene. Snow fell softly in large pink-tinged crystalline flakes, landing softly on a lake of blood-red ice. The sky looked like it was on fire, though there was no visible light source. Halja, the castle, appeared to be growing directly out of the centre of the lake. Gnarled root-like vines as thick as men twisted around each other and appeared to be holding the castle suspended above the ice. The walls of the castle were coated with a black, oily substance that oozed from the vines as though they were bleeding. Atop the castle, gargoyles kept watch over the barren landscape, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. If anyone should approach the castle, they would let out an unholy screech.

  Amir looked over at Luc, “Where do you want me to take you? Main courtyard?”

  “Yeah, that works.”

  Amir closed the door, placed his palm back on the surface, and then re-opened it. A different scene greeted them this time. They were directly inside Halja’s courtyard. Luc took a deep breath and stepped out of the doorway behind Amir. Taking his hand off Amir’s shoulder, he moved around in front of his friend and faced him. “Thanks for the lift. I’ll meet up with you right in this spot when I’m done.” Amir smiled and gave a conspiratorial wink. “Sure thing, man. See you in a bit.” He turned and stepped back through the doorway, closing it as though it had never been. Luc shook his head and turned to get a better look at the courtyard.

  As he looked around, Luc felt bile rise in his throat. The cobbled courtyard was running with blood. It pooled around Luc’s boots as he stood there taking it all in. The gargoyles shrieked, theirs screams echoing off the high stone walls of the inner courtyard. Luc swallowed hard and started to make his way towards the large, wooden double doors that marked the entrance to the castle proper. He tried to keep his eyes focused directly in front of himself to avoid taking in the scenes of torture playing out around him, but the begging and pleading drew his attention. Some cries were for mercy; others for death.

  To his left, two Devourers stood beside a man sitting on the ground disembowelling himself with a large serrated knife. The gouges on his face were proof positive that he had tried to claw out his own eyes. He screamed, but no sound emerged, his vocal chords having shredded long ago. At the rate this man was going, he wouldn’t live much longer…a blessing. Satan often used the Devourers as his go-to demons for torture; their ability to sneak into the minds of their victims, feeding them horrifying images and suggestions, made them ideal for the job. They fed off of the emotional and physical pain of their victims. By working for Satan, these Devourers remained well-fed.

  As he passed, they turned to face Luc, giving him twin sickening smiles. On the surface, they always looked non-descript, blending easily into a crowd. Most of their species fed in the human world, easily hiding their small, black, leathery wings under sweaters and jackets. These two looked like accountants preparing to sit down to go through financial statements. Whenever a human claimed to hear voices, it was typically a Devourer. The human was completely at their mercy, unable to resist committing whatever atrocity their mind was fed.

  A cry to his right drew his attention to a man chained to the side wall. Three Tiyank demons stood a few yards smoking cigarettes. They took turns using the man as target practice with their crossbows. It appeared as though they had pinned him with their arrows, avoiding all his major organs in a bid for him to live longer so they could enjoy his pain. Much like the Devourers, the Tiyank were deceptively innocent in appearance, looking as though they had just stepped off the school bus on the way home from elementary school. It was what made them so effective in capturing their victims, often done by playing the part of a lost child, luring an unwitting human to their death. With them, no good deed went unpunished.

  Luc pulled his eyes away and fixed his focus back on the door as it suddenly swung open. The Keres strode through. As usual, they were dressed to the nines in designer outfits, looking like they’d just stepped off the runways of Paris. As one, all three women locked their baby-blue eyes on Luc. Long blond hair, sun-kissed California tans, perpetual youth, and bodies that most women would give their eye-teeth for, it was easy to see Satan’s sisters were knockouts. Heofon help any man that got caught in the triplets’ trap. No matter how beautiful they appeared, the reality that lived underneath the perfect exterior was scary to say the least. Nyx, Moros, and Ker, The Keres, as they were known, were the demons of violent death. All three women approached Luc, running their hands up his chest and down his arms, looking seductively up at him through their lashes.

  “So pretty…”

  “I want him…”

  “He’s mine…”

  “Not fair…”

  “We can share him…”

  The Keres argued amongst themselves. Luc froze in place, allowing them to run their hands over him without complaint. He had no interest in any of The Keres. He knew what they were, but didn’t want to draw t
heir anger either. Satan would kill anyone who dared to touch them and would be equally violent with anyone who dared to anger or insult them. So, at this point, Luc was stuck between a rock and a painful place. Luck was on his side today; suddenly, he began to see flashes of red breaking through the soft blue of their eyes.

  “I’m hungry…”

  “Time to eat…”

  “B negative…rare…”

  “Yummy…”

  In a blur all three women sped off in the direction of the body of a young man crucified upside down at the far end of the courtyard. A translucent form swept through the air, and the banshee’s wail cut through the air. He had just died. The Keres fell on his body as a unit. Their claws had emerged, and they were frantically ripping at his flesh, licking at the blood as it ran in rivulets down his body. Luc shuddered, wondering how many men had fallen for the outer beauty of these women when it was only a mask for the evil within that revelled in the spilling of blood and tearing of flesh, becoming their unwitting meals.

  Luc shook his head in disgust, turned back towards the entrance to the castle, and walked through. As he stepped into the main hallway he was stopped by the sound of a throat clearing. Looking around for the noise, Luc noticed a tuxedoed Satyr standing off to the side of the hallway. Trust Satan to have a butler on staff. The Satyr motioned towards the floor at Luc’s feet. Only Satan would lay out a welcome mat so visitors could wipe the blood off their shoes before walking through his entryway. Luc wiped his feet, looked back at the Satyr, and raised his eyebrow in question.