“Or someone asked it to possess that demon,” said Chandra. “It’s time for us to start naming our enemies.”
“You think maybe Raphael…” I stopped.
Nash shook his head. “If Raphael knew where you were, he’d come himself, or he’d send angels.”
I took a deep breath. “Who else?”
“I don’t know.” Nash looked at the others. He kicked the demon in the back. The demon let out a scream. “So, you are awake. Tell us everything you know. I won’t hesitate to send you to the Pit.”
“I was at a bar,” he stammered.
“In Sheol?”
“Here! I was having a drink when I felt like something was being forced down my throat. I blacked out, I swear. Why can’t I see?” He sobbed. “I can’t see.”
Nash hauled him to his feet.
Adrianna bit her lip. “If they tracked us here, we should leave.”
“What about the angel?” I asked.
“If he hasn’t come by now,” said Kiran. “He isn’t coming.”
WHEN we returned to Sheol, Nash and I walked into the living room of his house. The others went home, and we left the demon several blocks away where the portal opened. He still crawled on the ground and asked about his sight. I pitied him.
He reminded me of the demon Nash and I found in the tunnels. We had abandoned her too. His body was taken over by something else. He hadn’t meant to attack us.
Nash threw his jacket down on the couch. The leather had a long tear where the dagger went in. His white shirt was stained with black blood that grayed out around the edges of the stain.
“Let me see your back,” I said. “It might need stitches.”
He pulled off his shirt and sat on the coffee table. I squinted. The two rounds sores, situated at the shoulder blades were on either side of the gash in his back. They looked like big cigarette burns. I assumed he got them in the Circles. I didn’t want to bring his mind back there.
The stab wound was shallower than I expected it to be. I saw the dagger go in to the hilt. My fingertips grazed the edges of the wound. The swell of his muscles tempted me, and I thought about running my hands along them as well.
Nash craned his neck to look at me. “If you wanted me to take off my shirt, all you had to do was ask.”
I gazed at him quizzically. Was he flirting?
His grin dropped. “I was kidding.” He turned away.
“It looks like it closed up some.”
“I heal fast,” said Nash. “Well, not as fast as I used to.”
I thought back to the wounds I tended when Nash came home from the Circles. Either those wounds were recent, or they had been initially worse than when I saw them. But the wound still seeped blood. I leaned in closer. The penny scent of the blood stung my nose. The color was dark, not red but black.
“What are you doing back there?” Nash asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Stitches will stop the bleeding.”
“You just want to stitch me up like a voodoo doll. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like threading people up.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. I left the room to get the first aid kit.
I still thought about the angel who didn’t come to claim the Twinblade. I didn’t catch his name, but I guess it didn’t matter much. I had nine fallen angels under my belt, names were frivolous at this point. Nash kept their weapons in the armory.
What if he didn’t show because Raphael was on to us? What about the other Archangels that were on his side?
We needed to get rid of them before Raphael decided to attack. They were bigger threats than lesser angels, especially if they grouped up and tried to take us down.
I sat down next to Nash and threaded the needle. The needle rested against the gauze on my lap as I cleaned the wound with a moist cloth. The white, textured cloth wasn’t a dull pink as I removed it from the wound, it was gray.
“I want to take down an Archangel next,” I said. I pinched the edges of his skin and knit them together.
The cold air in the room drifted around us and threatened to steal the warmth from our bodies. Warm blood ran over my finger as I pinched together the next section of skin.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Nash’s hands gripped the edges of the table as the needle passed through his skin. “Archangels are much stronger than the angels that we’ve gone up against.”
“I can’t stay here forever,” I said. “I might never be strong enough. I need to do this, Nash. I know what you said about my soul, but maybe I can stay in Sheol with you. That doesn’t mean everyone else shouldn’t have a choice.”
Nash turned around to face me. He grabbed my hands. His lips twitched. “I know why you want to do it, but it’s a bad idea, Lia. Trust me.”
“I do, but I think it’s time.”
Nash laughed. “That’s because you are mortal. Not everything needs to happen in a flash.”
“Don’t call me mortal like you’re trying to berate me. It might be a flash to you, but for me, it’s been almost a year. I’ve done what you’ve said—”
“No, you haven’t. You challenge me constantly.” Nash sighed. “Let’s hunt a few more regular angels before we start going after Archangels.”
“We might not have much more time,” I said. “That angel who didn’t show up. He knows what we’re about, which means Raphael probably knows too. Someone attacked us tonight. You could have died.”
“That wasn’t Raphael, and if someone wants to kill me, it’s going to take a lot more than that.”
I wanted to believe him, but although Nash had the best intentions, his methods were faulty. If Raphael found out about me, we’d be in big trouble if he still had all his generals.
I finished stitching Nash’s back and walked up the stairs as he sauntered off to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I was too tired to stay up a minute later.
I crawled into bed. Sim nestled up to me. That’s when I realized I was gone six days and hadn’t been around to feed her. I turned on the bedside lamp. Her food bowl was full. Bob must have come by while we were gone and fed her. I reminded myself to thank him for that. I turned off the lamp and closed my eyes.
THE next afternoon, I finished training with Nash and the others. Tom talked about our next hit. He droned on and on, and I stopped listening, trapped in my own thoughts.
What if Nash was wrong? I had more than myself to worry about. Adrianna wrapped her arm around Kiran’s. Nash’s face was a mask of concentration as he listened to Tom do his favorite thing in the world besides reading: lecturing.
Chandra, as she stood, glared at me with her arms folded, and mouthed the word “what?” as I looked at her. Her skin was changing color from tan to obsidian black. Not only that, but the flesh hardened like the shell of a scorpion.
I broke the hum of Tom’s voice. “I think we should hit an Archangel next.”
Silence nestled in the air for a moment. Nash’s expression was a look of disappointment mingled with frustration.
“That would be something,” said Tom.
“No way,” said Chandra. “She’s going to get us all sent to the Pit.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” Tom raised an eyebrow. “That would be something absolutely crazy. But Lucifer wants us to go after Archangels,” said Tom. “We would have to do it eventually.”
“Maybe after a few years of training,” said Kiran.
Years? I didn’t want to make Sheol my home for years. The longer I stayed here, the longer it would be before I started my life. I wanted to go to college and study music. Mom and I talked about it last year. The thought of leaving Nash entered my mind again. I lowered my eyes and frowned.
“Kiran’s right,” said Adrianna. “We need more training.”
Adrianna was against me too?
“We have to do this,” I said. “If we wait years before we fight one of Raphael’s Archangels, they might gang up on us. He’ll find out what we’re doing. The sooner, the better. It�
��ll be easier to take on one Archangel than to fight all of them at once.”
Kiran nodded.
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Bob approached us from the house.
Nash eyed him darkly.
Bob peered at him with a smile both playful and threatening.
“I thought it would be easier, if the Archangels—” I started.
“You can stop selling it,” said Bob. “Just do it.” He patted Nash on the shoulder.
I backed Nash into a corner. Bob knew it. He would tell Lucifer if Nash discouraged me from going after an Archangel. Guilt birthed a lump in my throat. Nash complained about me challenging his authority over the team, and I did it again.
“We’re going to need more abled bodies,” said Nash.
“That can be arranged,” said Bob. “I’ve got all the resources at my fingertips.”
EIGHTEEN
THE chill left my bones as I walked into the sanctuary of warmth the hotel provided. The lobby of the hotel had a high arched ceiling supported by thick marble columns capped in gold.
A small chandelier hung above a bed covered in white linen. In front of the bed was a small loveseat and table.
A large, marble tub was set in the center of the bathroom and clean, white towels were folded into shelves hollowed into the walls.
I took off my large coat and tossed it on the bed.
In the corner of the room was a brown package with a red bow. Who left that? I felt eyes on my back. I whirled around. Nash leaned inside the doorframe to the adjoining room. How long had he been standing there?
His subtle smile unarmed me.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I ordered room service.” He walked in without asking.
“No, I guess not.” I wanted to soak in the warm tub, but I still felt guilt over forcing this decision on Nash. I figured I had to let him win sometimes.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he said.
“Okay.” I sat down on the loveseat.
He settled down beside me.
A spasm radiated through me that left me with goose bumps.
“I need you to be careful tomorrow,” he said.
“You too.”
“No, I mean, you need to protect yourself. Let us weaken Uriel first.”
“Why can’t I sneak up on him like usual?”
“Lia, this is an Archangel we’re talking about. There will be no sneaking up on him.”
My eyes considered his, and I could see the seriousness in them. But I couldn’t stand by if he was in trouble. If it came to that, I would have to intervene. But worrying about me would distract him.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll wait for your signal.” A lie.
He touched the side of my cheek, and that warm bath seemed like the lesser option.
When the food came, Nash set the platter out on the small table he pulled up to the loveseat and lifted the bottle of wine. He poured two glasses and set one down beside my plate.
“I’m underage,” I said.
I was sixteen, seventeen in three months, but I thought the legal drinking age in most parts of Europe is eighteen.
He laughed. “You’re fighting an Archangel tomorrow, you’re old enough.”
I looked up at Nash. He gave me a thin-lipped smile. He didn’t think we were going to make it. That’s why he was allowing me a glass of wine. He thought it was an experience I might not get to have. What else did he want me to experience tonight?
I shook my head and cautioned myself not to overthink this. This wasn’t a last supper. Nash appreciated food. He probably appreciated wine too. It was nothing more than that.
“I’m okay.” I pushed the glass away, but it tipped over the edge of the small table. My reflexes improved since I came to Sheol. I dropped my fork and caught the glass, but the wine still tossed over the lip, and a sizable splash landed on Nash’s shirt.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said.
“That was a pretty good catch,” he said. “It’s alright. I’ll change. It’ll only take a second.”
He opened the door between our rooms. He removed his shirt as he walked through the doorway to his room. Adjoining rooms. He was being cautious.
On his shoulder blades were the two, long oval-shaped wounds. In the center they were white, like bone. The edges were red and black like burnt paper curling back.
I had wondered if he got them in the Circles, but when I bandaged him up, he said that there were only scratches on his back. These wounds were much larger than scratches.
Why didn’t he tell me about them? I could have sewn them up, and they might not have left such horrific scars. No, that wouldn’t have helped, the scars looked the same as they did when he returned. They were wounds that wouldn’t heal.
But maybe he didn’t get those scars in the Circles. The scars might have been much older than that. Where did they come from?
When he returned, he carried a black guitar case. Nash sat beside me in a fresh, black shirt and passed the guitar case along to me.
The case tipped, but Nash caught it. “Careful,” he said.
I undid the latches on the side of the case and opened it. Inside was a black Fender Stratocaster with a mahogany neck. “You brought my guitar.”
I looked at the guitar and felt a sense of longing. A question I had been trying to avoid entered my mind. Were Mom and Dad in Heaven?
I remembered what Tom said. Not all good people go to Heaven. What if they were in Sheol? I shook my head. It wasn’t possible. They were good people, too good to be part of Lucifer’s kingdom. No god would let that happen.
“I brought it because I got you this.” He gestured to the corner of the room to the large box wrapped in brown paper with a red bow.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Something I thought you might like. Open it.”
I moved the Strat from my lap to the bed. I walked over to the wrapped box and started to tear away the brown paper. I looked at him. “Don’t tell me…”
“Just open it.”
The wrapping fell to the floor, and nestled in the corner was a Peavey 6505.
“You said you needed an amp.” Nash knelt on the floor next to me.
“Thank you,” I said slowly.
“You don’t like it.”
“No, I like it. With the guitar…It just brings up memories, that’s all.”
“Bad ones?”
I shook my head. “Thank you.” I hugged Nash. His body was tense. “Are you worried? About the Archangel?” I asked.
“Yes, I am,” said Nash. “But you’re right. If we don’t start hitting them and Raphael finds out what we’re doing, we’ll be dealing with them all at once.”
“There are seven of them, right?” I asked.
Nash nodded. “You’ve been studying.”
“When you were…gone,” I said, “I explored your library quite a bit. I wanted to learn everything I could to get you out of the Circles.”
“Only I could have gotten myself out of the Circles.”
I didn’t want to think about Nash in the Circles, not after everything I’d read about them. He had to go through every one of them to get home.
“I didn’t really know if I could believe everything I read in those books. So, there really are seven?”
“They don’t all side with Raphael,” said Nash. “Definitely not Michael.”
“How many are on Raphael’s side?”
Nash looked down at his glass of wine. He pushed it to the end of the table. The glass was half-full. “We know about Gabriel and Uriel. Possibly Phanuel.”
That left Michael, Raguel, and Sariel. There used to also be Ramiel, but Ramiel had fallen from grace after he slept with a human and was replaced by Phanuel.
The one we were going after, Uriel, was the angel who warned Noah of the coming flood and saved mankind from the devastation. I didn’t know if that was just a story. If it was true, Uriel’s opinion of humans had certainly changed
since he sided with Raphael.
Nash stared forward as if he could see through the wall.
“Nash?”
He turned to face me.
“Tell me we’re going to get out of this and that I’ll get the opportunity to use that amp you got me.”
Nash smiled. “Play it now.”
“I’m a little rusty. I haven’t played in a while.”
“Go ahead. Play.”
I removed my guitar from its case and hooked it up to the amp. I took a deep breath. I strummed “This Means War.” I felt the sound in my chest as music filled the room. Maybe this would be the last song I ever played.
The world is a drum, and its music is a death march.
THE dull sky hung over the Russian city. The buildings were quiet, and brown grass grew between cracks in the street. Several of the structures were crumbling and in need of repair, but no one was around to maintain them.
The city was a relic. Still standing, but forgotten.
I kicked over a pebble with my boot.
“What happened here?” I asked.
“People thought the city was haunted,” said Tom. “A group of Jinn took over and scared people away.”
Jinn. They were what people confused with demons because they could transform into any terrible thing they wanted.
I imagined one of those creatures with its thin, gray body and horned head as it stalked through the streets of the silent, abandoned ruins. A chill went down my back.
“What did they want with the city?” I asked.
Tom shrugged. “Jinni motivations are beyond me. I’ve tried to study them, but that only led to more questions.”
“Nash!”
We turned around. Thirty or so demons stood behind us dressed in dark clothes with weapons and shields at their sides. Chip, Malcolm, and Chandra’s brother, Alex, were among them.
“Bob sent us.” Malcolm approached Nash.
“Good,” said Nash. “We’re going to need you.”
Malcolm’s red skin was a pop of color in the snowy city. They all wore the same silver bracers and arm guards as the rest of us. The armor was made of Arcadian Steel and a lesser alloy. Even against angel weapons, it would take more than a single strike to break through.
The Wings of Heaven and Hell (The Arcadian Steel Sequence Book 1) Page 20
