by Eva Brandt
“That’s fair enough,” I admitted. “Does that mean you want us to do more sparring or something?”
“Or something.” Penemue grinned crookedly. “I know that you’ve seen our cursed forms and you’ve been pretty accepting with that, at least when it comes to Sariel, Azazel, and Yeqon. But we haven’t really introduced you to ours. If we’re going to fight demons, we’ll need every advantage we can get and this is one of them.”
I was a little confused, but I didn’t have a problem with their request. If they wanted to share this with me, I was flattered and more than happy to accept the offer.
“I agree,” I said. “But just so you know, this isn’t necessary. I wouldn’t have a problem with any of it, even if you didn’t show me your forms now.”
With the corner of my eye, I spotted Sariel and Azazel sharing an inscrutable look. Yeqon just took my hand and squeezed it. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed this kind of behavior, but I didn’t know how to address it. As much as I wanted to reassure them, I didn’t have the heart to make promises I might not be able to keep.
Since I couldn’t do anything else, I focused on what the Watchers were planning to show me. That proved to be a little more overwhelming than I’d expected.
In all my years at the academy, I hadn’t actually spent a lot of time with the Watchers as a group. In that respect, they were right to be concerned. I’d been intellectually aware that there were two hundred Watchers at the school, but we’d only been together during meetings with Metatron, when I hadn’t been focusing that much on them.
Having their attention fully on me was somewhat unsettling, stirring a peculiar feeling in my heart. I waved it away and forced myself to focus on the advantages of what they would show me.
I ended up sitting on a bench in the interior courtyard, watching the whole process with interest. Gorgon emerged from a bush and slithered up my leg, underneath my clothes. With the ease of practice, I accommodated him under my wing.
A wave of demonic magic erupted over the area as the Watchers all melted into their cursed forms. My breath caught, and not just because of their transformation. The sheer intensity of the outburst took my breath away, making my core stir restlessly.
To distract myself, I focused on my familiar. “Did you know they were going to do this?” I asked him.
“Not exactly, but I suspected,” Gorgon replied. “You have to understand, young female, that the Watchers need stability right now. They’ll have to fight someone they looked up to as a leader for a very long time. Your presence is among the few things that make sense.”
“Is it? Half the time, I’m not sure what I’m doing here. Why would they trust me?”
“Maybe because they have no choice,” Gorgon offered. “Many of us don’t. We were pulled into a battle far greater than we were prepared for. We will fight because we must, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.”
It was no secret to me that Gorgon had been through some pretty bad experiences. Hell, he’d almost died during my confrontation with Lucifer. Still, my heart hurt at the idea of him being forced into anything. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to drag you into my mess.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gorgon hissed. His tongue tickled my cheek, drawing a small giggle out of me. “If I’m here with you, it’s because I want to be. Have faith in your abilities. I do.”
He seemed so sure, but I just didn’t have the same certainty. It was hard to believe in myself when so many horrible things had happened. I could still remember the mysterious visit of the little girl’s soul and I had to wonder if she was just the first of the many people I’d unavoidably fail.
Gorgon’s body tightened around my arm, chasing the uncomfortable thought away. After that, I found it much easier to direct my full attention to the Watchers. It was a little crazy that I’d gotten distracted in the first place, because, oh, what a sight it was.
The gigantic eyeballs floated around me in a surreal, hypnotizing dance. Yes, I could see it now, the strange beauty they created, so profound I wondered how I’d missed it before. It reminded me of different moments, of being the captive of a lust not my own, of being bound and surrendering to my lovers.
Even if they were all technically the same creature, they weren’t identical and I could easily find Sariel, Yeqon, and Azazel in the crowd. In my eyes, they just seemed to shine. None of this should have been sexual, but my body disagreed.
Taking a deep breath, I suppressed the desire bubbling inside me. With my luck, the Watchers would notice, which would be embarrassing for everyone. As much as I enjoyed having a healthy sex life—insofar as anything about my existence could be called healthy, at least—I had no intention of adding the whole school to my harem.
“Why not?” a voice whispered at the back of my head. “You don’t need to limit yourself. You can be more than this.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not again. I could understand being at odds with myself, but this was getting ridiculous.
Fortunately, my lovers were too far away to notice anything was wrong, but Gorgon paid almost as much attention to me as they did. “Delilah? Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I replied tightly. “Just thinking.”
Gorgon hissed, and I got the feeling he didn’t believe me. But he must have sensed I had no desire to discuss the topic, because he didn’t push me.
Even if he’d wanted to do it, he wouldn’t have had the time. A crow flew up to us and landed on the bench next to me. Instantly embracing the distraction, I turned toward the bird. “Morrigan, do you have any news for us?”
The crow shifted into the form of my mentor, the death goddess Morrigan. She sat cross-legged next to me and offered me a sharp smile. “And hello to you too, Delilah. I’m happy to see you’ve been well.”
My face heated slightly at the teasing reprimand. I’d never been rude to Morrigan, but it seemed today, I’d completely forgotten my manners. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you. We’re just going through some tough times.”
“I know that and you didn’t offend me.” Her expression sobered and she took my hand. “I wish I could say you’re wrong to worry about what’s going on, but at this point, we all know that’s a lie.”
As we spoke, the Watchers noticed her arrival and slowly approached as well. They landed on the ground in front of us, keeping a respectful distance, but obviously as eager for information as I was. “Greetings, Lady Morrigan,” Sariel said as he shifted back into his regular form. “Have you learned anything new?”
“Not much, Sariel,” she replied. “My sources tell me that Lucifer’s daughter, Hope, is missing. He blames Delilah.”
I gaped in shock. “Me? But what could I have done to accomplish that? I never touched that child. Even if I’d been able to reach her from The Celestial Realm—which I very much doubt—I would never involve a baby in our fight.”
“I know, Delilah,” Morrigan replied, “but Lucifer won’t see things that way.”
A shiver ran down my spine at her dark expression. “My parents… Are they safe?”
“We’ve posted a group of Thrones to keep an eye on them. If they’re targeted, we’ll know. For the moment, The Infernal Realm seems to be prioritizing tracking down the child, which might be good for us.”
“Maybe we could find Hope first,” Azazel suggested. “If we return her to her parents, this whole thing will end.”
“If only it were that simple. Delilah, walk with me for a moment.”
As Morrigan got up from the bench, I followed her example. She guided me away from the group of Watchers, into the main building. As we walked through the dark corridors, I was reminded of a different day, when I’d first been ambushed by Ariel here. I wasn’t afraid the attack would repeat itself, but still, it was an eerie feeling.
“Morrigan, what aren’t you telling me?”
Morrigan didn’t look at me. She just kept staring ahead and walking steadily. “Not here. Just be a little patient.”
I obeyed, although it wasn’t easy. It didn’t take a genius to realize that whatever information she was hiding from the rest of the group was bad with a capital B.
But I waited, because what other option did I have? I might not always trust Morrigan’s intentions, but I did trust her judgment. If nothing else, I believed she wanted to keep the realms safe from Lucifer, just like I did.
Fortunately, she didn’t leave me hanging for too long. We stopped in a room deep inside the Core, one that was almost identical to the one where we’d met in my first year.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what the subterfuge is all about,” Morrigan said once we were in private. “I’ll get right to the point then.”
She turned toward me and when our gazes locked, her eyes held an almost eerie spark of determination. “The truth is, it’s very likely that Lucifer is right, that you did indeed cause Hope’s disappearance.”
“W-What?” I stammered. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am. You have more power than you realize, Delilah, and you were granted access to the divine spark on top of that. If you were fighting Lucifer and trying to save your own life, you could have tapped into it to protect yourself, just like you did in the training battle with Kemuel.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I protested. “I fought back against Kemuel, yes, and against Lucifer, but the child has nothing to do with this.”
“Maybe not at first glance, but she’s not just a random baby.” Morrigan let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t pretend in front of me, Delilah. You know I’m telling the truth.”
The quiet, resigned acceptance in her voice threatened to shatter me, but I still refused to agree with her. “You’re wrong. I didn’t do anything like that.”
Morrigan pursed her lips, displeased with my reply. “All right. It was a difficult experience. Why don’t you tell me what happened, from your perspective?”
“You know what happened. Lucifer just… appeared in my room. He attacked me, and I could do very little to defend myself. Gorgon stepped in. After that, I retaliated and managed to push him off. He grew infuriated and summoned his angelic form. He’d pinned me down again and was planning to execute me when the Grim Reaper appeared.”
“And you didn’t do anything different or unusual throughout this time?”
At that, I couldn’t help but hesitate. I wanted to tell her ‘no’, to point out my innocence again. But the truth was that I didn’t remember every single detail.
“I don’t think so,” I croaked out, “but I could be wrong. It’s… It’s a bit of a blur.”
Morrigan fell silent, and for the longest time, we just stared at one another. As I looked into the galaxies hidden in her eyes, I wondered how it hadn’t occurred to me that this was a possibility.
Lucifer had vowed revenge after he’d left. That much, I did recall. He and his lovers had always behaved like I’d been the one to slight them first. Could it be that I’d truly done something without knowing? Did that mean I was to blame for the imminent war between the realms?
My dread must have been obvious, because Morrigan shattered the silence. “Well, I suppose it’s beside the point now. Even if you did have a hand in it, you were only protecting yourself. You wouldn’t have resorted to such methods normally.”
“No, but like you said, the demons don’t care about that. Morrigan, tell me something. How can the daughter of the devil even go missing? Surely someone can find her—if not her parents, The Supreme Being.”
“You’d think so, yes, but I’ve been unable to contact him. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hand in this.”
That thought terrified me so much I had to sit down. I had never met The Supreme Being, but for as long as I’d been here, I’d at least had the certainty that if things went downhill, the creator would intervene and save the angels. If that wasn’t the case, if there were no actual guarantees… Where did that leave us?
“Could he… Would he really abandon The Celestial Realm?”
“No, of course not,” Morrigan said. “I’m sure he has some kind of plan. He’s just terrible at sharing it with everyone else.”
That was the understatement of the century. Why did things have to be so fucking complicated? Why did The Heavenly Host have to fight a war when the conflict could have ended in a far easier way?
It made no sense to me, but hey, what did I know? I was only a human girl, thrust into a world I hadn’t been prepared for. I didn’t have a choice but to do what I was told.
Morrigan realized this as well, because she stopped pretending she intended to give me a choice. “Come on, then, Delilah. It’s time for you to be assigned to a unit. In the end, it doesn’t matter who caused this. We have to fix it and protect The Mortal Realm either way.”
It wasn’t that simple and I suspected Morrigan knew that very well. Even so, when she transformed into her crow form and flew out the window, I followed her.
I had no idea if she was right, if I’d been the one to cause this disaster, but my resolve remained the same. I had to do my duty as a Guardian Angel.
Through Dragon Fire
Things didn’t improve any after my meeting with Morrigan. She was obviously aware of who I was assigned to, because she took me back to The Halls of Truth to meet my new team members.
Logic stated that I should have been kept in the same team as my lovers. But The Celestial Realm had never been very logical, and that had never been clearer than the moment I landed on the terrace of my quarters.
Uriel, Penemue, and Armaros were already waiting for me there. They greeted me with welcoming nods and tiny, barely perceivable smiles. “Welcome back, Delilah,” Uriel said. “I see you’ve finished your conversation with Morrigan.”
I looked at the crow now sitting on the ledge of my balcony. Even if we’d reached our destination, she hadn’t bothered to transform.
Already having a bad feeling, I managed to reply, “I suppose. She explained I had to meet my assigned team now.”
“Indeed,” Uriel answered. “And here we are.”
That made no sense. I’d set my dispute with Uriel aside, and was on good terms with Penemue, but we weren’t exactly friends. And I didn’t know Armaros that well at all. Why would Metatron want me to go on a mission with these three angels?
“You’re probably confused, Delilah, and we don’t blame you,” Penemue said. “I’m sure you’d have preferred to join Sariel or the others. But that won’t be possible.”
“But why?” I asked. “We’re at our best when we work together.”
“That may well be,” Uriel replied, “but as long as you’re in the same unit, you won’t be able to focus on what actually matters—saving the mortals. You’ll automatically be distracted by their presence, and the same goes for them.”
Oh. Come to think of it, they were probably right. That sounded like something I’d do. If things ever got nasty on the field, I’d prioritize my loved ones. It was just my natural instinct. I wouldn’t have that problem with Uriel, Penemue, or Armaros.
But even if I could see the twisted sense in it, I wasn’t willing to accept it so easily. I turned toward Morrigan, intending to ask her to reassess this approach, to form another team for me.
She shook her head, waved a wing at the three angels, and then launched herself into the air once again. I clenched my fists, getting the message loud and clear.
“It looks like I don’t get a say. Very well. What do we have to do?”
If I’d been pettier, I’d have refused to work under Uriel’s leadership. And to be fair, it wasn’t pettiness that I lacked. But as much as I resented this whole thing, I was well aware that I had to cooperate, for my own sake and that of my lovers. The sooner Lucifer was eliminated, the better. I’d do whatever it took as long as it meant everyone was safe.
Uriel and the others made things easier for me. Even if we’d never worked together in an actual battle before, Uriel was well informed regarding my abilities. He
also had a lot of experience with The Infernal Realm, and that showed.
“As you know, the task of fighting demons usually falls to the Powers. Right now, they’re, for lack of a better word, overworked. The Infernal Realm is practically being emptied. We’re in charge of supervising certain points of interest that might cause chaos if destroyed.”
Ironically, our target was a nuclear missiles weapon facility in the United States. The angels believed The Infernal Realm would target such bases all around the world. “Human security isn’t capable of keeping demons at bay, and once a base is infiltrated, all it would take is for a missile to be launched. The humans would then proceed to destroy themselves.”
It was too easy to imagine the scenario Uriel described. Three-quarters of dystopian or apocalyptic movies focused on something like that. I’d never thought I’d land myself in the middle of a situation ripped out of the Terminator franchise, but I guessed truth really was stranger than fiction.
In hindsight, knowing how vulnerable we were to our own violence, mankind should have perhaps found an alternative to nuclear weaponry, something we could actually control. But we hadn’t, and now here we were.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting cross-legged on top of a missile silo, watching the staff at the military base come and go. The others were spread around in different areas of the base. I’d been leery of the separation at first, because I didn’t know how to communicate with them, but Uriel had assured me that if something happened, he would know.
“Just keep an eye out and make sure the humans are safe, Delilah. Leave everything else to me.”
That was easy enough to do. I dispatched Gorgon to patrol the base too, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. The mortals couldn’t see any of us, but when my familiar passed them, they shivered, as if suddenly touched by a cold draft.
I made a mental note to monitor their responses, since the humans might indirectly be able to warn me if someone was near.
