“Out!” Althea glared at Sadako.
Black vapor slipped across the floor at Anna. Aaron shoved her out of the way, and the darkness crawled up his chest. Althea leaned forward, screaming at him, her desire to protect Aaron from The Many too large to fit into words.
Aaron swooned to the ground as the cloud burst out of his eyes, ears, and mouth. Seeing it coming, Kate surrounded herself with a wall of flames, but the shadow didn’t even slow down.
Althea’s wings lanced forward and mummified Kate in glowing ribbons. A man’s voice howled from Kate’s writhing body, as if he burned alive.
“Leave my friends alone!” Althea tried to stomp, forgetting she floated.
Dark vapors exploded out of the gaps between strands, rushing at her, engulfing the world into blackness.
Warmth at her back faded to cold, hard metal. Althea looked up from her grimy legs at the bars of a cage too small to allow her five-year-old self to stand. She hated the bars. She hated the box that controlled who she could help and who she was forced to feel die. The Wagon Man took a knee outside, smiling. He loved her. Loved her in the way a man loves the thing that makes him rich. He had given her plenty of water and plenty of food, but nothing else, neither affection, comfort, clothing, nor freedom. She grabbed the bars and braced her feet against them, rattling the door.
“This is where you belong. In a cage. Nothing more than an animal for the using.”
She stopped struggling and looked up at him. He had been a handsome, if not horrible, man. Thirty or so, about Aaron’s age. The voice that emanated from him on a sulfurous breath sounded much older.
“You are lying,” whispered Althea. She let her hands fall from the bars. “I am not angry. I will not give you power. Even as a slave, I helped people.”
A crack of thunder split the quiet. She blinked and found herself sitting on dirt at the center of a ring of teepee style tents with hubcaps, chains, and sheet metal attached to them. A manacle around her right ankle tethering her to a dead tree, and a ratty blanket were her only clothing. This place had been her home two years after the wagon, one of many raider camps. Men in armor made of leather, tire treads, and metal carried a wounded third. They dropped him at her feet and walked away. All the skin of his chest had been ripped to tatters, and his entrails hung out. She gazed down at the bloody gore sliding to the ground, not bothering to back away as the crimson touched her toes. She remembered this man. He was dead already. She could do nothing for him. Their leader, the one with the purple hair and half-metal face, thought she disobeyed. They thought she’d refused to help him on purpose.
None dared strike her, but they screamed and threatened. They took her blanket away, left the dead man next to her, and denied her food for three days. Some even taunted her with bits of meat, holding them inches out of her reach before snatching them away and devouring the morsels in front of her. From her vantage point of a dream, she knew that on the third day of her starvation punishment, other raiders would come. They would kill to take her. The few survivors, raiders following a new chief, would blame the old war leader for starving her. They would say it was her wrath, and the Badlands would come to believe the legends that all who mistreated her suffered.
Althea stood and walked to the end of the chain, letting it hold her leg off the ground behind her.
“This is not real. I am not here.” She squinted into the indigo sky. “I know you are making me see this lie. I have a family. This has passed.”
Metal constricted around her throat as her body grew a little. The tents slid away to the horizon and an old, flattened blue car rushed up behind her. A rusty chain, padlocked about her neck at one end, the front bumper at the other, gave her about twenty feet of range. This place happened two years later. She had thought herself ten at the time but had likely been nine. Seated on the dusty metal hood with scraps of leather arranged around her, she braided cords into a thicker band, which would become the belt of the skirt she had considered so precious. The first article of clothing she had ever owned, and no Seeker or parent had given it to her.
She had made it herself.
This camp of broken vehicles had been her home one abduction before Den’s people found her, where she lived among settlers with a hard edge. They said the leash was to keep people from stealing her, not to hold her captive. Althea smirked at the leather scraps. It didn’t matter; a leash was a leash, regardless of why they put it on her. None of this mattered anyway. The Many told another lie to her eyes, and she would not let it bother her.
She ignored the uncomfortable tightness at her throat, humming as she worked on her future skirt. Althea smiled, knowing she would be wearing it when Father found her. Karina would laugh and roll her eyes at how attached she was to a simple leather tatter.
Growling seeped from the sky. Her contentment enraged the Many.
The chain disintegrated into rust powder, which blew in spirals over her chest. The car melted to nothing, leaving her standing. Her white dress appeared. An endless field of desert sand and scrub stretched out to the horizon on all sides. She glanced around and at herself; she seemed to be in the now once more—but this place did not remind her of anything that had yet happened.
A blonde woman in blue ran across the distance, chased by men in dark coats. She cried out for help. They raised rifles and cut her down in a flurry of shots. It seemed as though she had died too fast to feel any pain.
Althea didn’t have to be close to recognize her mother. She gazed down at where her feet had sunk into the dirt. “She made sure I was safe. She gave her life up so I would live. It does not matter what lies you show me. My mother loved me more than anything. I know the see-through people go somewhere. My mother is waiting for me there. She is not gone.”
The old man appeared in a whirl of smoke and leather, pointing finger an inch from the tip of her nose. She looked up at him, calm, unflinching.
“What if you could have her with you again?”
“You don’t have that power.” She didn’t blink.
“Althea… you would be so quick to turn your back on your own mother? After she gave her life to protect you?”
“What you would give me would not be my mother. If she is dead, she is in a place you cannot touch. You are darkness and anger and evil and sorrow. You cannot reach my mother because she is love. You give only lies and suffering.”
The ancient finger retreated. He glared down at her.
“Go and be in your own place. You don’t belong here.”
He squinted. “Neither do you.”
Althea thought back to Aurora’s mention of a gate opened between worlds. Her mother had worked where the machine exploded. People kept calling her an angel. Maybe a small piece of whatever they make angels out of touched her before she was born. “I did not ask to be what I am. People made me when their ritual failed.”
The sentience leaned back with a dry laugh. “People made me as well. Their need to control, to kill, to profit. We are two sides of a coin.”
“Then we should not hurt each other, or we will both die.”
“You are a fool, child. You cannot hope to match our power.”
Althea shook her head and sighed. “You are not strong. Killing does not show the strong, it shows the weak. It takes strength to forgive. You have only the weak.”
She reached for his hand, but the apparition disintegrated. Gravity lurched in her stomach as she dropped out of the air and fell to her knees, hands braced on the ground. Shimmering energy wings shrouded over her for a moment before receding into her back. She tucked her legs to one side and sat up, pulling her hair out of her face and squinting at the sun overhead. No trace of the Many remained here. He had fled from her. A thing like that might never die, but she would hold it back for as long as she could.
“What the fuck was that?” asked Anna.
“Oh… Angels and Demons locked in mortal combat… Fire, brimstone, and such. Usual Wednesday afternoon stuff for Division 0,” said Aaron
while waving his hand about.
Althea giggled at the sound of a soft punch thumping into his chest. She bit her lip, smiling at the love radiating from both of them.
67
Honor Reclaimed
Mamoru
Tightness squeezed Mamoru’s hand. Droplets of warm liquid struck him on the chest.
“Is that one safe?” asked a man with a British accent. “I’d rather not get stabbed.”
“Aye,” replied a woman. “We had a nice long chat while I was wearing her.”
“I’ll never get used to hearing that,” said Anna.
“Please don’t cry,” said a child. “Your brother is not dead.”
Tightness squeezed his hand again. Mamoru opened his eyes and looked into the face of his sister, warped with sorrow.
“Sa… da… ko,” he whispered.
“See,” said the child.
“You’re sure he’s not goin’ ta try and kill us again?” asked the British man.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Aurora stood over him, her alabaster skin blinding in the raw sunlight.
Mamoru sat up. Strange visions tormented him. Fire burning his flesh, lightning searing his bones, and organs sliding out of him as he burst against the wall. Darkness had gripped his mind. He gasped, clutching at his gut.
“What have I done?”
“Please, Mamoru, do not throw away your life.” Sadako fell to her knees at his side, head bowed. “I found your confession.”
What else could he do? He rested his arms over his knees, squinting at a dust storm crawling across the endless brown. “I must.”
“No.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook. “You’re a ronin now. You don’t have honor anymore.”
A flash of anger warmed his chest. He drew his arm back to slap her, but she didn’t flinch. The weight of her stare sapped the fury from his heart. She is right. A ronin has no warlord. I am a broken man. Sadako guided his arm back into his lap and held his hand.
“There is no shame in what happened,” said Sadako. “I saw the Akuryō leave your body. You could not have been responsible. You are strong, but such an evil cannot be resisted.”
“I did not resist it.” He hung his head. “I welcomed it.”
Sadako drew a breath and gasped into her hands. “What? Why?”
“That’s a right good question,” said the Brit. He had his arm around Anna, who looked miserable and red-eyed. “I’m not entirely sure what the bloody hell that thing was, but inviting it to tea seems like a right howler. You’ve got to be dead from the neck up.”
“I could not allow my sister to die. She injured herself trying to protect me…” Mamoru plucked a clump of lint from his pants, rolling it between his thumb and finger. “Our shuttle crashed. She would not have lived long enough to find help. An old man appeared offering a deal. I could not say no and watch her die.”
“He’s persuasive,” muttered Kate.
“The Many was the cause of her hurt.” Althea gazed into space. “He broke the fly machine and made you crash. He wanted you.”
Mamoru growled. The shuttle had failed without reason. Every system had shut down or overloaded. How had he not realized that? “I am a fool.”
“My life is not worth that of an entire city.” Sadako sat back on her heels. “Tell the Akuryō to undo his bargain.”
“Aaron,” said Anna. “We’ve got to go. We have to warn them.”
“I tried.” Aaron looked off to the west. “I imagine a few executives and the government bigwigs are planning to evacuate. They didn’t want to release the news. Mass panic.”
What little color Anna had in her face drained. “They’re just going to leave everyone unaware of what’s falling on them?”
“We can’t just stand around here feeling shitty and crying,” yelled Kate. “Fuck.”
Anna looked at the Division 0 patrol craft. “Take me back. We have to get the others out of there. All those children…”
“There’s more kids in West City than just the ones Jimmy boy collected.” Kate folded her arms.
“Do you have to call him that?” Anna sniffled.
“It was the friendliest thing I could think of.” Kate scowled. “Did he fuck with your head too?”
“I don’t kn—” Anna’s body rippled with sparks. “Yes. He did.”
Aurora put on a Mona Lisa smile.
“It is too late,” said Mamoru. “Even if I could find access to the uplink at the starport, I would not be able to gain control of the ship before it was stuck in Earth’s gravity. I have also disabled the communication relay. It would not receive a transmission anyway.”
“What of a military assault?” asked Anna. “There’s got to be something.”
“It would take hundreds of aircraft to take down; it’s massive,” said Aaron. “Even if they did that, they’d have to let it enter the atmosphere before striking at it. The bloody thing would still crash into the city.”
“Yes, but… smaller chunks.” Anna flailed. “The destruction wouldn’t be as bad… it’s something.”
“There is no way.” Mamoru stood and faced Aaron. “My shame is too great. Please spare my sister and our family from it.” He offered his katana handle first. “I ask you to give me back my honor.”
Sadako bowed her head and wept. “Mamoru. You bargained with an Oni to spare my life. Do not make me live knowing I do so because of your death. If you are to die, I will join you.”
“Sister, no,” Mamoru yelled.
“No one needs to die. You’re both having the stupid.” Althea stomped over and glared up at him. “There is too much death already. Stop having sad and do something to make it right. Killing yourself won’t make what you did any less bad. All you do is run away.”
“You cannot understand our ways,” said Mamoru. The child hadn’t pleaded—she’d called him a coward with her eyes. As improper as it struck him for a girl-child to be so… forceful… he couldn’t deny her truth. “What is there to do?” He lowered the sword and grasped it by the handle. “I cannot reach the ship.”
Hope spread over Sadako’s face. “If you could gain control, could you stop the crash?”
“I cannot say. Perhaps.” Mamoru squinted at the breeze. The pristine sky offered no sign of the doom he had set in motion.
“Can your police car go high enough?” Sadako pointed at it.
“Nope,” said Aaron. “About a mile up tops.”
“Maybe the little angel can hop on his back and fly him there,” said Kate, smirking.
Althea jumped up and down. “Yes!”
Aaron coughed. Anna stared. Kate did a double take. Mamoru raised an eyebrow.
“No.” Althea spun around to point at the statuesque nude by the hangar wall. “Not me. Aurora.”
Mamoru glanced at the bizarre woman. “You are smiling like that because you know something we do not.”
Aurora uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. Lemon-blonde hair, as long as her calves, lofted to the side in a gentle uptick of wind. “I was waiting to see how long it took someone to suggest that.”
“Reckless,” said Aaron. “If you knew it would work, you should’ve said something. Why’d you make us run about the circus like that?”
“Dominoes,” said Althea, sounding annoyed.
Aurora burst out laughing.
“What the bloody hell does that mean?” Anna and Aaron asked simultaneously and exchanged glances.
“Of course I can get him there, but… there’s no guarantee he won’t die in a fireball.” Aurora raised an eyebrow. “You’ll not be able to bring anything you weren’t born with, even cybernetic implants.”
“Is that why you are naked whenever I see you?” Mamoru raised an eyebrow.
“Not entirely. I enjoy making people uncomfortable.” Aurora winked. “We can go whenever you’re ready.”
Sadako shuddered. “I don’t want you to die. Let us run. Their military can destroy it.”
Mamoru slid his blade into its
scabbard, and knelt at her side, pressing the katana sideways into her lap. “Hold this for me, sister. Alive or dead, I will return to you.”
Althea walked up to Aurora. “I will wait here. You can take me home later.”
“Aaron,” said Aurora. “You have some unfinished business at Edmonson Memorial Starport. I suggest you bring Althea with you.”
“Why?” asked Anna. “Is she still pivotal?”
Aurora sashayed over to Mamoru. Despite his guilt, he still found himself staring at her chest, not that she appeared to mind. “Even if she wasn’t, you’d leave an eleven-year-old alone in the Badlands?”
“Bitch.” Aaron chuckled.
“Actually, she might come in handy.” Aurora reached for Mamoru’s hand. “Are you ready?”
Mamoru released the katana into Sadako’s care and stood. “If the kami have presented me a chance to reclaim my honor, I shall take it. I am ready.”
“Kami? I thought I was an oni.” Aurora winked and pressed herself against him. The touch of her nipples on his bare chest made it hard to concentrate on much of anything. “Just relax, and let me do the work.”
“I bet she says that a lot,” muttered Aaron. “Oof.”
Anna pulled her fist out of his side. “Be nice.”
“You will feel a tug,” said Aurora.
Aaron cracked up; Anna punched him again.
Aurora ignored his outburst. “A tug in your mind. Concentrate on wanting to follow me. This will only work if you want to go.” She faded into a ghost, surrounded by a swirl of white-silver energy. A mass of whirling, freezing air spread up his arms from where he held her hands. Mamoru surrendered himself to the odd sensation in his head and leapt through a barrier of standing cold. The ground fell away in a blur as they rocketed skyward, a feeling that recalled his time embodying the Fūjin. Whatever waited for him beyond the clouds, he would correct his mistake.
Or he would die.
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Angel Descended (The Awakened Book 6) Page 56
