by Hunter Blain
“I failed you. Both of you,” I whispered as my thumb continued to achingly move over the surface.
I knew what I had to do, and nothing would stop me.
I set my chin, knowing I would make things right, before letting my coat fall back into place.
Moving to the false panel on the far wall that I had broken with Mjolnir, I pressed the button that was hidden beneath the shattered tile, and the throne hissed open. I made my way down the forty feet of steps and to my home.
Once inside the front door, I took a few steps into the kitchen, crouched down, and opened the mini fridge underneath the black quartz countertop. Inside were bags of enchanted blood that Locke and Hayley had made specifically for me—which was an obvious statement, now that I thought about it.
Pulling out a Hi-B, not to be confused with the yellow-boxed children’s drink of a similar name, I went to my favorite recliner and plopped down. I manifested a bloodstraw and was once again surprised to see it was real, only it was white with gold etchings in it.
Further testing a theory, I inserted the straw into the thin spot on top of the plastic bag made just for piercing, and tentatively let go of the manifestation. I kept my mind on the straw, but there was no physical connection. I was delighted to see that I still had control over it, even without a physical tether to it.
“Neat!” I exclaimed, before remembering I had already done something like this with a shield covered in razors. “Ah, right.”
Magni came out of his room and noticed me gawking at my creation.
“What?” he asked as he moved to sit on the couch. I assumed Ludvig had sent him home while Locke and Hayley were still at Doc Jim’s, unconscious. They were both in critical condition, especially the warden whose head trauma we didn’t fully know the extent of.
I decided to answer his question rather than confirm my assumption as to why he was home alone.
“I just remembered I can, ah, control my manifestation without having a tether,” I said, realizing I had never really explained to him what my constraints were when not wearing the angelic armor.
“Cool,” the boy who was no longer a boy said. I knew he didn’t fully understand how cool it actually was, but his sentiment was welcomed regardless.
“Eh, trust me, it is,” I said as I looked up at him, breaking my concentration. I felt a slight zap as I looked down to where the straw had just been. “Ah, crap.”
“Where’d it go?”
“Bah! Apparently, I gotta keep constant focus on it,” I lamented, willing another straw into life, which I placed in the existing hole. Taking a few sips of the enchanted goodness, I looked at Magni and asked, “Where’s Tim? Normally, I would be getting attacked with puppy kisses by now.”
His gaze shifted downward as a frown formed, indicating a hard truth was trying to bubble up from his core and out his mouth.
“Wh-what is it?”
Magni inhaled and then spoke slowly as he exhaled, “Tim is in Joey’s room...curled up in his dirty clothes pile in the corner.”
My heart shattered like dropping a heavy mirror on jagged rocks.
“Ho-how does he know?” I asked, placing my free hand on my chest as I felt it constrict in swelling grief. I felt out of breath all of a sudden at the thought that Tim would never know why Joey wouldn’t ever come home.
“I, ah, don’t think he does. I bet he just misses him and hasn’t realized he...”
“He’s not coming home...” I finished, my eyes shifting to Joey’s room where Tiny Tim slept, unaware that his new best bud was gone.
A part of me wanted to feel jealous that my puppy had taken a strong liking to Joey, but I felt more like a parent watching their child having their first sleepover. Joey needed Tim after losing Dawson, and I think my fur baby knew that. The image of Joey’s face lightening up whenever Tim ran up to him blossomed in my mind like a beautiful flower before turning rancid and shriveling into a brown husk in an instant. Joey was gone.
“If, ah...if anything happens to me...”
“I’ll watch over him,” Magni finished, lifting his gaze to me and smiling weakly. We both knew that if something were to happen to me, there would be nothing anyone could do because the gates of Hell would open, but it was a nice sentiment.
“Thanks, Magni.” In that moment, I felt closer to the boy from the car.
“Oh!” I started excitedly, slightly startling Magni. “Taylor thinks he might know of an elf chick that might be into you!”
“Into me?”
“Yeah, man. You know how Hayley already knew all about Ludvig and was like a fangirl when she first met him?”
“Well, a confident fangirl, but yeah, I get you.”
“Taylor says there might be someone who might actually be a fan of your own, dude!”
Magni’s face blushed like he had just sprinted ten miles uphill in the middle of a Texas summer.
“So yeah, whenever they take Depweg to Faerie for his little vacay, you should go with him! Plus you can, like, train with the Fae and learn some epic kar-a-te,” I said, enunciating the last word while chopping the air.
“I guess if Earth is destroyed, Faerie would be a good place to be in, huh?” Magni asked. I could tell he was trying to make light of the heavy situation, but it was too on the nose.
“I would ask that you take Tiny Tim with ya, but now that I have this supercool spy watch from Collin, I’ll just pop in and visit him whenever I get the chance.”
“I think he’d like that.”
“Hey, um, if I come back from what I’m about to do...I’d, ah, like to spend some time with you. If that’s okay, I mean.”
Magni looked at me and I could all but see the scab over his heart that I was picking at. I wished I could take back my comment the moment it left my mouth, knowing it would still take time for him to fully heal from the horrors I had dropped on his life.
He did something, then, that surprised me. Magni nodded once and then said, “I’d like that.” We both smiled before he added, “Just don’t take me to Waffle House.”
We both burst out laughing at the memory of last night, when the one-bandage army—oh, we’ll call it Ramb-Aid—single-handedly forced several pounds of greasy food to explode from otherwise iron stomachs.
“I was going through the community medicine cabinet in the kitchen, looking for something to help me sleep, when I saw a freaking box of Band-Aids just staring at me. I almost lost it, man.”
Magni and I began a renewed laughing fit which woke up Tiny Tim, who came into the living room yawning.
“Hey, buddy!” I said a little more softly than normal, knowing he would never understand why Joey was not coming home and trying to make up for that fact by being extra sweet. “Who wants a belly rub? You do? Yes, you do!”
Tim stampeded over to me and I scooped him up in my free hand, almost losing him as his constant, fierce tail-wagging nearly propelled him from my grip.
“It’s probably time to feed him,” Magni said as he made his way to the kitchen. I heard him freeze in place before calling out over his shoulder, “So, ah, what happened to the microwave?”
2
After topping off my tanks on the supremely epic enchanted blood Locke and Hayley created for me, I decided to make a stop at Father Thomes’ and break the news about Joey.
I said my goodbyes to Magni and Tiny Tim before making my way into the mausoleum, the false throne door opening due to a motion detection whatchamacallit Depweg had installed.
As I went to push the false stone on the far wall to close the hidden door that led to my home, I was rudely reminded that I had broken it.
“Well, how the schnikes...” I began when I simply grabbed the hydraulically powered door and easily moved it closed. “Oh. That was easy.”
After feeling confident that any of the occupants would be able to open and close the door, I moved to the mausoleum entrance.
I stepped into the warm light of day, closing my eyes to bask in the sun for a few momen
ts as the big marble door closed behind me. It was so odd feeling the rays on my skin. The day also smelled weird to me. I couldn’t explain it except to say that it reminded me of when I was mortal in Faerie and drank first cold and then room temperature water. One was sharp while the other was dull and round. The aroma of day reminded me of drinking the warm water. I didn’t like it. Then again, I was a guy and, admittedly, any change was bad.
Rather than willing some sunglasses, I let my preter-eyes grow accustomed and adapt to the change in scenery. I no longer had to squint as I looked around, even as my eyes roamed over the white headstones that reflected the rays aggressively.
After I made my way to the street, I began a moderate walk to the church, taking note of an assortment of cars flowing down the road. Looking at my phone, I took a guess that it was around the mortals’ lunchtime, as I saw a few food trucks gathering warehouse workers like ants around a sugar cube.
It was still odd to see so many people just living their lives. It almost made me uncomfortable.
To compound the issue, eyes shot my way like a line of dominoes toppling over. Curious as to the sudden attention, I kept my eyes forward while letting my senses flow, homing my ears on the whispers around me.
In Spanish, I heard someone say, “Hey, what’s with that white boy in the Matrix coat? It’s, like, ninety-five degrees outside, man.”
Quickly scanning the other huddled groups, I gathered the general topic was in regard to my coat.
I almost burst out laughing when someone said, “White dudes in long black coats are never a good thing.”
“Nice day for a walk!” I called out to the collected warehouse workers in perfect Spanish while wildly waving a hand. A few of them barked out surprised laughter while playfully elbowing their more nervous friends.
The workers continued about their day after determining I wasn’t a threat—which was hilarious, by the way.
As I continued walking, I looked down at my trench coat, never having realized how out of place it was to the mortals. I didn’t feel the temperature of the day the same way they did, so I barely registered how hot or cold it was. I mean, when I walked outside my mausoleum, I knew it was warmer than what I was normally accustomed to, but I wouldn’t sweat or suffer a heatstroke like a mortal might.
A sucky thought came to mind: Would I have to retire the coat to nighttime use only? That also brought up a good question—did I need to even sleep any longer? I had been up since dusk, and it was now the middle of the freaking day. I had never been up that long, and I felt kind of like a child who had snuck out to watch TV while his parents were asleep.
I stopped walking and looked down at my hands, opening and closing my fists as I imagined the armor that was hidden from view. There was so much to ponder.
Wait a tick! Why wonder?
Going into the control room of my mind, I looked expectantly toward the couch...and saw it was empty.
Ah shit! Baleius! I scolded myself, remembering that I had put Baleius back in the box when he’d tried to stop me from teleporting to Ulric’s hideout. This...is gonna be awkward.
With a cringe and a focus of mind, I grabbed the box from the coffee table. After a few quick movements that were more symbolic than literal, the Lament Configuration began to move.
You...dick...Baleius drawled out from where he sat on the couch, now freed from his prison.
I held up my arms in a whoopsie-daisy expression with an accompanying scrunched-up face.
But I get it, he admitted with a sigh, lowering his head and shaking it slowly from side to side.
You, ah...get it?
Baleius shot his face to me with a scowl of frustration.
Yes, John. I know why you did what you did, even if you were foolish for doing so. You could have killed us in an instant. His features relaxed. But you didn’t. And you got your armor back, and saved the lives of your friends.
Not all of them...I breathed out, feeling the weight press on my chest as I remembered Joey’s gaze going glassy as his heart beat one last time.
I know, he said softly.
Something dragged at my focus.
How did you know? If, ah...I gestured at the box.
For whatever reason, you made the box a much more habitable place than the previous time. I had a window I could fully see out of to watch the events unfold. You surprised me when you were able to call the armor, which was crafted by Father for my brother, Raziel. It answered to you in much the same way the Norse weapon does. It is awe inspiring. Baleius shifted to a wry grin. Plus you showed that bastard who he was messing with. Did you see his face as he portaled away?
Heh, yeah...I thought for a moment. I’m...I’m sorry for locking you up again. I was just so determined to do anything I could to save them.
I know, Baleius answered with a half grin that tugged at one corner of his lips. He accepted what I had done, even though he knew I had danced an Irish jig on thin ice that could have easily led to my death.
My original question came to mind, and I asked, Baleius, do we need to sleep anymore?
No. Celestial beings, whether current or previously employed, do not need rest. It is both a blessing and a curse.
Question, I began, raising my index finger as I pouted my lips and squinted at the sky, why did I need to sleep before?
You are referring to the time leading up to the armor?
Um, yeah. Duh.
If I am to be honest, this whole situation is a complete anomaly to...well, everything. So anything I might theorize would be, at best, a shot in the dark, Baleius responded, crossing his legs and clasping a knee with both hands where he sat on the plush leather couch. If we remove my brother’s armor from the equation, we would clearly be susceptible to the cleansing morning sun.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that part. But we did have Da’s essence with us though, right? Which, while we are on the subject, fuck you for trying to keep him suppressed. Just wanted to get that out there.
Noted, Baleius responded casually.
Why were you such a dick to him, by the way?
Look, he started, lifting his index finger from where he held his knee, I don’t like change and had absolutely no idea what would happen if there were three of us in here. I wasn’t against his essence becoming a part of us, just...
Just his consciousness? I asked somewhat angrily.
We both know what my reasons were before. I will not deny what I did or try to excuse the fact. Instead, I ask only that we move forward in our relationship. As long as you don’t get yourself killed, I’m good.
My anger quickly receded as I acknowledged his point. He was right.
Fine, I said, waving a hand dismissively in the air while in the control room of my mind. But the question still stands. We are now part angel whether you like it or not. So why am I only just now able to walk in the sun and not have to sleep? Shit! Do I even still need blood?
These are all excellent questions that I simply don’t have the answers to. The best I can reason is that there is still a large part of you that burns in the sun, and it takes the rest of your flesh with it.
Ah, right, I said, remembering one of my first lessons with Ulric. Even when my body had been freshly made, I’d still burned in the sun, though it had been a much slower, more painful process. He had mentioned it was my vampiric essence being burned by dawn, and that the rest of me just so happened to be conflagrated along with it.
I scowled in disappointment as I placed both hands on my hips.
What about feeding? I mean, I just drank blood and it was pretty good, but didn’t feel as important as it normally did.
I feel as if energy can be consumed through other methods not related to blood.
My mind rushed back to the highway where I’d inhaled a fission bomb in preparation of attacking Lolth with the finger-o-death. Before unleashing the power, I had felt the strangest sensation that my energy cravings were somehow being sated; though in the throes of battle, I didn’t have much t
ime to think on the implications. As a matter of fact, I had completely forgotten about the brief moment of satiation due to unknown reasons (he said sarcastically).
So you’re saying that I can build energy from sources other than blood?
I can confidently surmise that new avenues of sustenance have become available to us. As an angel, I was able to absorb power from the universe directly while not in Heaven, mostly in the form of light from fledgling stars.
What about as a demon?
As a fallen angel, Baleius corrected poignantly, my armor was stripped away, and I could no longer feed off the sun, which was a moot point because I couldn’t even see the damn thing while below.
What did you feed off of, um, in Hell? I asked with a gulp.
Baleius looked at me with a stone-cold expression before uttering an icy word that gave my soul chills, Suffering.
I stared at the demon inside my head that was infused with my very own DNA, and gaped with my jaw to the floor.
What were you expecting? he asked.
Man, I don’t know! Taco Bell, I guess? I just wasn’t expecting literal suffering.
Is there a difference? Baleius said with a straight face. We eyed each other for a moment before we both burst out with a belly-filled laughing fit. It felt good to laugh with my demon passenger. I couldn’t remember the last time we had, if ever.
After our laughter had dropped to a few remaining chuckles, there was a moment of silence as I thought about what he had said.
So without the armor, angels feed on suffering? That, um, sounds feckin’ odd.
Baleius inhaled deeply as he stared absently at the various movie posters in my mind, not paying them any attention as his eyes lazily drifted from frame to frame.
Michael made it so.
Michael? The archangel? Like Gabriel?
The same. But where Gabriel is logical, Michael was emotional, and thrived off his wrath. With Father’s permission, Michael created Hell and decreed that we would spend eternity torturing damned souls that turned their back on Father.
