Dark Angel

by Amanda Jones

  He glanced back down at the drawing. Should he put this one up on the walls with the others? A part of him wanted to keep it all to himself, as it seemed to be illuminating a path to his ultimate end and salvation. That being said, it was a part of a series of drawings that encompassed his lifetime…and hers if she was even real. Perhaps it should join the others as the ultimate culmination of his lifetime. Rising from his seat and taking a small amount of sticky tack from the small container on the table, he headed towards the wall that contained his most recent portraits. He placed the newest picture right next to the last.

  Standing in front of it he gazed intently at the young woman in front of him and spoke aloud to her, something he never did when he was alone in his room. His voice was raspy with disuse and filled with sorrow. “Whoever you are, thank you for keeping me company all these years. I hope you find peace and happiness with that man. I wish I’d had the chance to meet you, if you even exist outside my mind. Goodbye.” With that, he turned back towards the table, blew out the candles in the candelabra and moved through the darkness towards his bed. He climbed in and curled into himself as though it would help him disappear faster. Closing his eyes, he tried to will himself to sleep. Perhaps death would come for him while he slept…it would probably hurt less if he was asleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  Satan

  The blood dripped rhythmically from the tip of the blade onto the stone floor. The steady drip, drip, drip soothed his anger. Sitting in his large leather chair, legs propped up on the top of the cracked desk, Satan surveyed his right hand demon, Voss — what was left of him at any rate. Pieces of skin and bone on the floor. Voss’s severed head sat atop a marble stand staring blankly ahead, his blood trickled down the walls and pooled on the floor. In retrospect, it was a shame that he’d killed Voss; the demon had been loyal to him for centuries. But at the end of the day, everyone was replaceable.

  Wiping the dripping blade on his jeans and setting it on the table, Satan drew the Blackberry Voss had retrieved from his pocket and scrolled through the contact list to the one entry that caused his blood to boil. Katia Andreyev had turned out to be a cagey woman, managing to somehow get Lucifer and all of his buddies on her side and evading his best hit-demon. Oddly, her ability to evade his efforts to bring her in turned him on. She was quite attractive after all and obviously devious to garner help so quickly. Perhaps once he’d finished with the binding, he’d keep her as his personal pet. The things he’d do to her — just thinking about it brought a smile to his face. Through GPS tracking of her cell phone number, they’d managed to track her to that fucking motel room she’d shared with Lucifer only to find it empty, all trace of them removed.

  The signal died four hours ago; the last point of reference had been at The Devil’s Advocate. Voss had accounted for tracking her movements on the surface, but not in Sheol. Fucking idiot. He’d been warned about failing to bring the girl in. Now Satan was going to have to find someone to take his place. One of the Devourers should do the trick nicely. Once he got his hands on that weak-willed prick of an angel Lucifer, they’d make sure he experienced pain like he’d never felt before. Then Satan would kill him for good measure. It was time to send a message to the other fallen angels under his thumb.

  Rising from his seat, Satan crossed his office to an armoire against a wall. He couldn’t pay a visit to his most treasured possession with blood all over his clothing after all. Opening the armoire, he rifled through the contents until he found a change of jeans and a clean tee shirt. He removed his blood-spattered clothing and tossed it into a pile on the floor. He hastily re-dressed and headed out of his office for the long trek down to the dungeons.

  It wasn’t unusual for him to pay two visits to his prisoner in such quick succession, but he was at a loss now as to how to locate his quarry and the young man in the dungeon and his drawings were his only connection to her. Leaving the office, Satan walked at a quick clip through the winding hallways and staircases of the castle. Every space was filled with his collection of priceless antiques and artifacts he’d collected over time from the human world. None of his precious items brought him any joy at this moment. Priceless though they were, they were useless trinkets in comparison to the strength, power, and freedom he would wield once he got his hands on his next acquisition.

  Satan entered the room of his captive, his night vision allowing him to see clearly in the almost complete blackness. Strange, the candelabra was almost always lit. Glancing over to the bed, he saw the young man rising from his sleep. Satan focused his attention on the candelabra and the candles burst to life, the flames leaping several inches from the candle wicks before returning to a normal burn. The young man blinked at the sudden light. Oddly, he looked disappointed for some reason. Surely a visit so soon after the last would’ve made him happy, giving him someone to talk to. Satan shrugged off his musings. In the end, he didn’t really care how the young man felt; it was his usefulness in the larger plan that was of interest. Crossing the room to the most recent pictures pasted on the wall, Satan began a slow perusal — surely there would be some sort of clue here as to her whereabouts. His captive claimed to see her in his dreams, so there had to be some kind of connection. As he moved along the wall, he noticed the newest addition and froze, a smile spreading slowly across his face.

  “I see you’ve added a new portrait to your collection,” Satan said, not removing his eyes from the portrait.

  “Yes,” the young man replied simply.

  “Who’s the man with her? You’ve always drawn the woman alone,” Satan commented, knowing full well exactly who was in the portrait, but eager to hear the artist’s reply.

  Sighing as he rose to his feet and crossed the room to join Satan in front of the picture, the young man replied. “I’m not sure. It’s the first time I’ve dreamed of her with anyone else. I just draw what I see. He cares about her; that’s all that I know.”

  “And did you dream of her again while you were sleeping just now?” Satan asked, trying and failing to keep the excitement out of his voice.

  The young man looked up at him, his expression perplexed at this sudden excitement. “Yes, I did dream of her again. I didn’t think I would.”

  “And what did you see this time?”

  Sitting down at his table, the young man steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon them. “They were together again, but this time there was someone else with them. There was fog or smoke that kept getting in front of the second man’s face. The smoke was all around them.”

  Keeping his back to the young man seated at the table, Satan’s smile continued to grow until his face hurt. Amazing! He had a mental connection to her that was clearly getting stronger for some reason and could see where she was and who she was with now. He was abso-fucking-lutely going to exploit the shit out of this. Lucifer may think he was keeping Katia well-hidden wherever they were, but nothing could hide her from a psychic spy. Time to give his prisoner an offer he couldn’t refuse. There wasn’t a chance in Sheol that he’d keep his word to the young man, he was the Devil after all, and lying was all in a day’s work.

  “Draw these pictures for me for a few more days and I promise to let you go free,” Satan said, turning to face his captive.

  The young captive looked up in confusion. “Why? After all this time, why would you let me go for the price of a few drawings?”

  Satan shrugged, feigning an air of nonchalance. “Why not? They interest me. You’ve proven to be of little value. You’ve been here long enough, so I might as well set you free so you can see the world. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  Suspicion warred with hope in the young man’s eyes. Satan kept his expression as guileless as possible as he observed his prisoner’s inner struggle. Finally, it appeared as though hope had won out.

  “Yes, all right, I’ll keep drawing for you in exchange for my freedom,” he said.

  “Good man,” Satan replied. “I’ll leave you to it.”

&nbs
p; With that said, Satan turned and left the room. As he walked back towards his chambers he started to plan exactly how he was going to have Lucifer tortured once he was captured — Lucifer and every demon and fallen angel that had helped hide that Chimera bitch from him. Then he would have his fun with the girl while her brother watched helplessly, knowing he had brought about her downfall. He laughed as he threw open the chamber door. It was good to be bad.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Sergei

  Sergei’s brain snapped back online in an overwhelming rush of sensation and information. Noise crashed all around him, the air whispered across his exposed skin, a variety of smells assaulted his nostrils, and an electric charge in the air made his skin prickle almost painfully. Confusion reigned; he was supposed to be dead. He’d been cut open from navel to breastbone, burned, sliced and diced, clawed and bitten. The memory of his torture crashed through his mind causing a violent shudder.

  He threw open his eyes, but all he could see was a blur and he started to panic. His eyes weren’t working! What had happened to his eyes? He covered his ears as the noises around him hammered into his skull. This was hell on earth and he was stuck in it. Suddenly the blurring stopped, and the noises muted as something touched his hands. He swung his focus to the pretty redhead whose face was level with his, her hands placed lightly over his own. Her eyes were hypnotic, a swirling mixture of jade green and gold. Staring into them brought his panic down to a low simmer. She nodded at him calmly as though to assure him that he was all right. A scent of roses wafted over him; he realized it was coming from her. It was a calming scent, beautiful, simple and pure.

  As his panic abated, Sergei took stock of his body and realized, to his surprise, that nothing hurt. He must have made a face of some kind as the woman tapped on his fingers with her own. Sergei removed his hands from his ears, but continued to stare into her magnetic gaze. She spoke softly and calmly, her voice had so many layers…he’d never heard anything like it before. “You’re safe now, Sergei, and your injuries are healed.”

  Never removing his eyes from hers, he nodded and placed one hand protectively over his stomach, ensuring his entrails were indeed inside and not outside as they had been when he was last conscious. “I noticed nothing was hurting,” he said and frowned at the sound of his own voice. It was the same but with so much more depth and nuance to its tone.

  The girl gave him a nervous smile as she twisted her hands together nervously. “I need to tell you something that will explain some of the strange sensations you’re feeling. I hope what we did wasn’t a mistake, but we really had little choice at the time.” She trailed off as though unsure of how to continue.

  “Go ahead,” Sergei prompted.

  Looking as though she were steeling herself, the young woman plowed on. “You were almost dead. I turned you…I’m a vampire. Well, you are too now.”

  Sergei could only sit and stare at her blankly. His brain was giving him the blue screen of death like a broken computer. He sat there for what seemed like an eternity until he was snapped out of his stupor by the sound of her voice.

  “Sergei? Do you understand what I’ve told you?”

  “Yes,” he whispered in response.

  “Good, okay. Do you have any questions for me about what happened?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah. How did I get here? Who are you?”

  The young woman gave him a friendly smile that served to further relax him. Sergei found himself unable to look away from her eyes, feeling as though he could fall into them and be safe and sound. “My name is Mara. A fallen angel named Bataryal brought you here and asked me to change you. I met your friend Katia a while ago, she was so relieved that we’d been able to save you.”

  “Katia,” Sergei whispered. “Is she all right? That demon didn’t get to her, did he? He took my Blackberry, he wanted to trace her…”

  Patting his hand comfortingly, Mara replied. “Katia’s just fine. The others have made arrangements for her to stay in a safe place. She wanted to stay here and wait for you to awaken, but they felt that this place wasn’t secure enough. We’ll get word to her that you’re okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I need to ask you something,” Mara said anxiously.

  “Sure, anything. I owe you my life. The least I can do is answer some questions.”

  Steeling herself, Mara went for it. “You didn’t have a choice…about your turning. I just wanted to ask you if you’re angry or disappointed. Did I do the right thing? Would you have rather we’d let you go?”

  Sergei’s initial reaction was one of surprise. Of course he would rather be alive than dead. What kind of a question was that? On the heels of that first thought, the reality of his situation crashed into him like a freight train. He was a vampire now. Thinking back to the grimoires he’d studied over the years, he began to realize the implications. Vampires drank blood. Vampires were capable of extreme feats of strength and speed, always having to be wary when in human company. Vampires were immortal; the only manner of death was beheading. Just the thought of drinking blood made him want to gag. Immortality itself seemed like a blessing. Eternal youth sounded great, but at what price? Katia was immortal, but she wasn’t connected to him the way he wanted her to be. Would he be alone for all eternity? If he ever fell in love with a mortal woman he would literally have to kill her to be with her...was he capable of that?

  As though she had sensed his inner turmoil, Mara sighed and gave him a sad smile. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. When I was turned, I was abandoned by my maker and left to fend for myself. There are some obvious drawbacks, but I can assure you that there are a great many wonderful things you can only experience as an immortal. I’ve had the chance to witness the changing of the ages, the dawning of new inventions, and the rise and fall of empires. On the flip side, I’ve had to watch friends grow old and die, and I have to move every decade or so to keep my lack of physical aging from drawing notice.”

  “If you were abandoned, how did you learn to control yourself around humans?” Sergei asked, stumbling over the idea that he was no longer human and had to start thinking of them as the other.

  Mara’s eyes filled with sadness and pain as she formulated her reply. “Unfortunately for me, there was a lot of trial and error. There were accidents, I’m afraid. I was found by another of our kind after a couple of years living day-to-day and, frankly, just getting by. He was able to teach me how to live among humans without causing harm and drawing attention to myself. It was a dangerous time for demons and the others of our world. Witch hunts were common, burnings at the stake…I could very easily have wound up dead or ‘deader’.” She ended on a smile.

  “And the blood?” He asked with a grimace.

  “You’re a lucky man, you know? You’ll rarely ever have to feed from a living being. We’re living in the age of synthetic plasma and blood banks my friend.”

  “Yeah, I know, but how do you handle the taste? I mean…yick,” Sergei said, making a face.

  “It’s mind over matter really,” Mara said smiling. “Your brain will tell you what you’re doing is gross, but you’ll actually like it…it’s a real mind-fuck.”

  “This whole thing is a mind-fuck, so I guess that’s just par for the course,” Sergei answered, finally cracking a smile.

  “You seem calm, so I’m going to release you now. Just keep in mind that your eyes are working just fine, things seem blurry because you’re moving at warp speed now. Pretend you’re moving like a snail going uphill through molasses and you’ll find it easier to focus on things until you adjust to your natural speed, okay?” Mara raised an eyebrow in question.

  “What do you mean release me?” Sergei asked.

  “My eyes,” She replied. “You haven’t been able to look away have you? They’re gold, right? That’s our hypnotic ability. I’ve been keeping you calm and focused so we could talk. When you woke up, everything freaked you out, so the noise level increased, you couldn’t see properly, you
were probably also feeling the electric charge in the air. Am I right?”

  “Right. Hypnotism – I read about that in the Dictionnaire Infernal, I just didn’t realize that it was actually fact. There’s so much in the grimoires that’s conjecture.”

  “Yup, lots of bullshit to wade through, but that one is true,” she replied. “You’ll be needing to feed soon, and the first time really should be from the vein. We have a volunteer for you and I’ll help you through it, so no need to worry.”

  Mara blinked and looked away from Sergei, releasing him from her hypnotic pull. Sergei felt like a string that connected them had been cut and the world around him came back into focus. It was amazing. He could hear everything around him, from the dripping of water to the conversations upstairs. If he focused hard enough, he could hear conversations happening outside on the street. From the conversations happening above him, he learned that he was in The Devil’s Advocate, the demon safe haven he’d heard about. Sitting very still, Sergei took stock of his body now that he was calm enough to do so. That was when he realized that he hadn’t taken a single breath in all this time. Looking down at himself, he noticed that he was dressed in medical scrubs. Thank Fuck. He had absolutely no desire to know what the state of his clothes had been in when that demon was done with him.

  Glancing back up at Mara, who was watching him with an encouraging smile, he saw that her eyes had returned to that piercing jade color, not a trace of gold to be seen. She nodded towards him and zipped over to the far wall in a blur, where a book was laid face down on the floor. Dropping down, she picked up the book and began to read, giving Sergei a modicum of privacy while he tested out his new senses. Sergei slid down off the table onto his feet. His whole body felt like it was pulsing with energy just waiting to be expelled. In a burst of speed, he arrived at the opposite wall. Sergei smiled. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.