Dark Angel

by Amanda Jones

  “Your presence is expected. Follow me.” The Satyr turned and headed down the long hall, his hoofed feet clicking on the stone flags, leading Luc towards the grand staircase that led to Satan’s presence chamber. Luc followed, taking in the opulence of his surroundings. Evil certainly had good, but expensive, taste. All around him were examples of the finest tapestries and artwork from countless historical periods. Odds were that some of these paintings were originals thought to have been lost in the human world. The furniture was similarly antique, likely having originated from the palaces and manors of some of the most powerful leaders in human history. Swords from around the world were hung on the walls; suits of armour from the ages were on display along the hallways. It wasn’t the first time Luc had mused that Satan could make a fortune charging entrance fees and giving tours. The contents of Halja rivaled the Louvre.

  The butler stopped in front of the door to Satan’s inner sanctum. The door and walls surrounding this private sanctuary had been crafted millennia ago of demonically charmed Wolframite, making it diamond hard and impossible to breach. The light from the hallway refracted off the facets of the gunmetal-grey material, giving the door the appearance of emitting a steady glow. The butler pulled on a gold silken cord hanging beside the door, nodded at Luc, and turned to walk back the way they had come. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal an adolescent with an innocent face, light brown hair, and soft brown eyes, wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans with red Converse sneakers. The upbeat sound of Hanson’s MMMBop came from inside the room. He gave Luc a friendly smile — all straight white teeth and dimples. Any stranger meeting him on the street would put his age at around seventeen or eighteen. At odds with his relaxed innocence was the blood streaked across his shirt and smudged on his face. He motioned for Luc to enter with a bloody hand.

  “Got here just under the wire this time. I was starting to make plans for you to join Voss in the dungeons for another round of “regenerate the skin,” but it looks like I’ll have to shelve that for another day.” He grabbed a hand towel off a morgue slab and wiped the blood off his hands.

  Dropping a quick bow, Luc addressed Satan, hating every moment of being in his presence, and dreading the request that he knew was coming. “My Lord, my apologies for my timing. I Spirit-Walked here in an attempt to make better time.” Luc continued to look at the floor in deference.

  “Hmmm. I’d quite given up on you, and now you’ve interrupted my extra-curricular fun.” Satan walked over to the older man he had tethered to a chair with razor wire, making a slow circle around him admiring his handiwork while nodding his head to the beat of the music. Gashes all over his skin bled profusely, blood dripped from his tied hands onto the stone floor at regular intervals. This was certainly not the first time Luc had seen Satan’s idea of blowing off some steam. As he looked the man over, he noticed the ice pick embedded in the man’s thigh right to the hilt. Satan stopped his perusal and turned back to Luc. “Oh well, never mind. I was getting bored with this one anyhow. They really aren’t much fun once they’ve lost a few pints.” He swiveled around and in one fluid motion, snatched the ice pick and buried it in the man’s carotid artery. The man jerked hard, causing more blood to flow from his ruined wrists as the razor wire bit deeper. Satan looked up at Luc, giving him another one of those winning smiles, and yanked the ice pick out roughly causing an arterial spurt that painted the room red. Random droplets of warm blood spattered across Luc’s face and neck. The man’s head dropped forward slowly in death as the remainder of his blood pumped out onto the slick floor.

  Wiping his hands again, Satan picked up the stereo remote and shut off the music. “Love that song. It’s so bad, it’s good,” he said with another casual smile. “Time to get down to business. I have a job for you.” Walking to the desk at the far end of the room and opening a drawer, he drew out a manila folder and slid it across the desk towards Luc. “I need you to procure me this human woman.”

  Luc slid the file closer and flipped it open. The photo of a young woman with long black hair, pale skin, and startlingly-beautiful mismatched eyes stared back at him. Her name and other basic information were listed below the photograph: Katia Andreyev, age 35, solo violinist with the Metropolitan, resides at suite 914-3891 Young Street, frequently spends time at Insomnia Café, The Broken Cue Billiards, Dee’s Palace Club, often seen in the company of one Sergei Romanov.

  “May I ask why you’re interested in this woman? Is she one of your souls?”

  Satan raised his eyebrows at Luc. “No, you may not.” Looking at Luc thoughtfully he took a seat in the leather executive chair behind the desk. He grabbed a miniature sword letter opener that he began flipping and catching in rapid succession. “You’ve never questioned me before. You either, accept and complete my requests or you decline them and suffer. What makes this any different?”

  “Nothing, my Lord. I was merely curious.”

  “Well, stop being curious. Curiosity makes me twitchy, and when I’m twitchy…” Satan threw the letter opener, spinning end over end, until it plunged directly into Luc’s stomach, “…bad things happen.” Luc groaned and doubled over, clutching the handle of the weapon. Smiling once again, Satan rose and headed towards the door, tossing a casual “Bye Bye, now” over his shoulder on the way out.

  Chapter Five

  Lucifer

  “Argh! Goddammit!” Luc shouted as Amir pulled the letter-opener out of his stomach. The skin began to knit back together as soon as the metal was free, but it burned like someone was holding a butane lighter to his abdomen as it healed.

  Laughing, Amir waved the offending object in front of Luc’s face. “What? You wanted me to leave it in?” Tossing the knife on the coffee table and throwing himself casually onto his couch, Amir shot Luc a sympathetic look. “Hey, getting knifed in the gut bites the big one, but on the upshot, you’ve still got all your skin this time. You’re moving in the right direction if you ask me.”

  “Regular comedian, aren’t you?”

  Amir pegged Luc in the head with a stress ball. “At Chez Amir, we aim to please. Give that a squeeze. You look like you could use it.”

  Shooting Amir an irritated look, Luc grabbed the stress ball off the couch and gave it a squeeze as directed. Powder misted all over him as the stress ball exploded in his hand. “Son of a bitch!”

  Amir burst out laughing as Luc unsuccessfully batted at the powder coating his jeans and shirt. Grumbling under his breath he threw the remains of the stress ball back at Amir who was now laughing so hard tears were running down his face.

  “Thanks man, that was very helpful.”

  “Holy shit! That was priceless!” Amir wiped his face with the back of his hand.

  Luc shook his head and shot his friend a disgusted look. Sighing, he pulled the crumpled manila folder out of his jacket pocket and tossed it over to Amir. “So I didn’t learn much beyond the fact that letter openers can be used to make a point, and that he wants her.”

  Picking up the folder that had fallen open to Katia’s photograph, Amir whistled softly. “Wow, pretty girl. That’s a shame.”

  “Yeah, well, I have to go on the assumption this is a typical retrieval expedition. Strange that he wanted to give me the file in person, but the information he’s provided is the same as usual. Don’t feel bad for her she’s brought this on herself. You know the rules, he can’t force an innocent human to enter Halja…she’s got to be one of his souls.” Luc shrugged and rested his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “You see or hear anything about a Chimera in your covert travels?”

  “Not a damn thing. Sorry, dude, I wish I could have been more useful.”

  “Nope, don’t say that. That’s the best news I could possibly hear. A Chimera would have created a shit storm of epic proportions. Guess it was just a rumor. I’ll just head topside, do a snatch-and-grab, and hand her over. Mission accomplished.” As he spoke, Luc’s Sigil began to throb painfully. He could almost feel more darkness lea
king out of his heart into his body. Chalk it up to delivering another human into Satan’s clutches — nothing more, nothing less. Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to get back into his usual frame of mind, but some insidious warning bell had set up shop in the back of his mind. Something just didn’t feel right…but why? The sigil had never hurt before after a request to deliver a human who had willingly traded their soul. It was definitely peculiar but not worth dwelling on. He had a job to do and he’d have Sheol to pay if it didn’t get done in a timely manner. Time to ponder changes in his Sigil’s behavior at a later date, right now he had to get his hands on a new set of clothes that weren’t decorated with blood and guts so he could locate this Katia and get this over with.

  “I know you don’t owe me anything anymore, but can I ask you for one more thing?”

  Smiling, Amir pointed towards the bedroom and nodded. “Take anything you need, bro. Useless as tits on a bull to let you run around in the human realm covered in blood. With your luck, they’ll arrest you and put you on a psych hold or something and I’ll be the one getting the phone call to sneak you out. So really, you’re doing me the favour by borrowing my clothes.”

  With a wry look, Luc got up and headed towards the bedroom. “True enough.”

  Chapter Six

  Katia

  This was going well — better than she had thought it would. Katia smiled across the table of the intimate, dimly-lit Insomnia Café at Sergei. They had taken a leisurely walk here after watching a few indie bands perform at Dee’s Palace. Sergei had held her hand all the way and had kissed her so sweetly at the door just before they had entered. The vibe was very different from their usual outings, but nothing Katia couldn’t handle. Here they were at two o’clock in the morning chatting over a couple of lattes. It was a nice intimate little café, with tightly-packed tables that sat two. The low lighting created a cozy atmosphere for couples to unwind after a night on the town. There were four or five other couples scattered throughout the place, everyone talking in hushed tones. The quiet strains of jazz could be heard playing over the sound system. A lone cashier sat on a stool behind the counter reading a novel as he waited for the next few stragglers to make their way in for a late night shot of caffeine.

  Sergei had reached slowly across the small circular table about ten minutes prior and had slid his hand into hers. Instead of making her feel like an imposter on this date, she felt comfortable. It should have been confirmation to her that she’d made the right decision about taking this relationship to the next level. It would have been absolute confirmation if her gaze hadn’t kept creeping over to the man sitting two tables over from them. He had been alternately nursing a mug of coffee and shooting intense looks between her and Sergei for the past half hour. Normally being stared at by a stranger like this would be an unnerving experience, but there was something magnetic about this particular man that had her constantly sliding her eyes in his direction. She must be more tired than she’d thought, she mused; the stranger seemed to have a soft golden light glowing around him.

  “Earth to Katia.”

  Katia shifted in her seat, feeling like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. She hoped Sergei hadn’t noticed her staring at the other man.

  “Um, sorry. I’m all up in my head again.” She gave Sergei an embarrassed smile.

  “Not to worry, I just asked what you think they’ll putt on the program for the next season.”

  “Oh, I’m really not sure. I hadn’t thought much about next season. To be honest, I just tried to get through the last of our performances without passing out from holding my breath.” She gave Sergei a teasing smile. “Even though I know you’re just dying to catch me.”

  Laughing, Sergei squeezed her hand. “Hey, you can’t blame a man for wanting to have you in his arms…even if it’s just to catch you. Was that too cheesy? Sometimes I just can’t help myself.”

  “It was very cheesy, but cheesy is good. I like cheesy.” Katia gave his hand a return squeeze.

  “Well then, I know I’ll be able to deliver, ‘cause we both know I have no game. I am what I am.”

  As Katia smiled back at Sergei, she noticed that the stranger at the neighbouring table was watching her again. She did a half turn and reached down as though she were looking for something in her purse, angling herself towards him. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and found her eyes locked on his. There was something riveting about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. Perhaps it was the sum total of everything that made her unable to tear her eyes away. He looked like he had been carved from a piece of marble. His skin was pale and perfect, not a single freckle, scar, line, or wrinkle. Calvin Klein models had nothing on this guy, with his defined jaw, and full lips that were just begging for a kiss. His hair was a tumbling mass of waves the colour of the sun, his eyes were the most unusual grey Katia had ever seen, like storm clouds. He also had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen; women paid good money to get lashes like that. He truly had the face of an angel, like something you’d see on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. At odds with his angelic look was the black leather motorcycle jacket, black jeans, and black combat boots. There was also something off in his expression, something hard about the way he was looking at her, like she had somehow ruined his day without her knowledge. Dragging her eyes away from him, Katia turned back towards Sergei.

  “Do you know that guy?” Sergei asked as he released her hand and began twisting his ring, something Katia noticed he did when he was nervous. He never took that ring off. She’d asked him about it years ago. It was a distinctive piece of jewellery, clearly very old, and bearing an unusual crest. The ring was a heavy gold with a large pentagram and a dragon embossed in the center, its tail curling around the base of the design.

  “No, I don’t. He’s been staring at us for a while now.”

  “I wouldn’t say he’s been staring at us. I’d say he’s been staring at you.” Frowning, Sergei leaned in towards Katia. “Do you want to get out of here? Is he bothering you, beautiful?”

  “No, no! It’s okay. He’s not bothering me. Why should we leave — we’re having a nice time, right?”

  “I just don’t like the way he’s looking at you. There’s something not right about it.”

  Leaning in closer to him, Katia smiled and whispered, “Seriously, Sergei, what’s he going to do to me — kidnap me in the middle of a café with witnesses all around? Plus, you’re here to protect me, right?”

  Sergei laughed nervously, darting a glance at the mysterious stranger. “If you’re sure. I just don’t like the look of him. I think it would be better if we left.”

  Confused, Katia frowned at Sergei. It wasn’t like him to look this uncomfortable. In fact she could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him like this. She darted another quick glance over at the strange man who was now back to nursing his coffee. What was it about this guy that was getting Sergei so worked up? Sure it was weird that he kept staring at them. But that did happen sometimes, though normally it was people who had seen them performing together at the Metropolitan. This guy didn’t look like the type of person who spent much time at classical concerts. When they had been at Dee’s Palace, other men had looked at her and Sergei hadn’t been bothered. She was on a date with him, after all; it’s not like she was about to run off with someone else just because he looked at her. Sighing, Katia decided it was better to just give in and get the hell out of here. No reason for her to force Sergei to stay and make him more uncomfortable than he already was.

  “Hey, you’re right. Let’s just head out.”

  “Really? You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

  “Absolutely. I just need to make a quick trip to the ladies’ room. I’ll meet you back here in five and we can head home.”

  Grabbing her purse off the back of her chair and slinging it over her shoulder, she cast a quick glance at the stranger who was looking at her yet again. She shook her head in c
onfusion and took a couple of quick steps around the table to Sergei’s side, bending down and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Sergei smiled up at her and motioned to the cashier. “I’ll take care of the bill while you’re away. See you in a few.”

  Katia headed to the back of the café near the backdoor and kitchens and walked carefully down the steep staircase to the area where the washrooms seemed to be hidden away. She had really just needed a few minutes alone to shake off the strange feeling she’d had since noticing she was being watched. Everything about that odd man had seemed to have been calling to her. Maybe she was finally losing her mind. Katia plunked her purse down on the countertop in front of the mirror, ran some cold water in the sink, and splashed it on her face.

  “I must be crazy — I mean, seriously, I thought I saw an aura around that guy. If that doesn’t make me crazy, I don’t know what does.” Staring at herself in the mirror, she pulled a face and laughed. “And now, I’m talking to myself. It gets better and better.” Shaking her head, she grabbed a couple of sheets of paper towels and patted her face dry. She balled up the damp paper and shot a three-pointer into the garbage can in the corner of the room. “Nothing but net.” She smiled and turned to grab her purse off the counter.

  Just as she was reaching for the strap on her bag, the bathroom door crashed in and there he stood. They both stood frozen for a moment, eyes locked onto each other. As though her brain had just returned from a momentary vacation, Katia snapped back to the moment. “What the hell! Get out, this is the ladies’ room!”

  Rolling those gorgeous grey eyes at her, he stepped forward holding up his hands in a show of peace. “Trust me, I know this is the ladies’ room.”

  Confused, Katia shook her head at him and turned back to her bag. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but if you’re not out of here in five seconds, I’ll have to mace you.” There was a sudden flurry of movement as the stranger grabbed Katia around the middle, picking her up and pinning her arms to her sides. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that to happen,” he said calmly.