Dark Angel Box Set

by Hanna Peach

  “So,” Balthazar said, “aren’t you going to ask me what happened to our dear boy?”

  Vix gritted her teeth as pride warred with curiosity. “I don’t need your help. I don’t even know that whatever information you’ve supposedly got isn’t an outright lie.”

  Balthazar shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Israel finished his two kebabs and left the last wrapped in the paper. When he rounded the corner to his apartment block, Petr was already leaning against the bricks waiting for him. Petr was a slip of a boy, no more than eleven years old, but with sharp eyes that missed almost nothing. The young boy straightened up and brushed down his rags as he caught sight of Israel.

  Israel had caught Petr trying to steal from him when he was an officer. Instead of clipping him around the ears or carting him off to the nearest police station, Israel had bought him a hot meal and convinced him to help Israel carry some of his groceries home. Israel then handed the boy the exact amount of euros that he had been trying to steal. Since then Petr waited for him most mornings, ready to perform whatever errand Israel had for him, often giving Israel leads and valuable street gossip that he wouldn’t have otherwise gotten. Even after Israel had left the force, he’d still found ways to “employ” the young Petr.

  “Hey, Petr.” Israel patted his belly. “I bought too many skewers for breakfast and now I’m so full I’m going to burst. You want my last one? I’d hate to throw it away.”

  Petr’s eyes widened and the tip of his small pink tongue poked out of his mouth. A low growl emanated from his stomach. Petr grabbed the package that Israel offered him and tore the paper apart trying to get to the juicy meat inside.

  Israel ruffled his hair as Petr pulled the last piece of beef off with his teeth. “If you’ve got time, I need a paper from down the newsstand. Just slip it into my mailbox as usual.” He dropped one of the stolen coins into Petr’s palm. “You keep whatever change there is, okay?”

  There would be change. More change than the paper was worth, and Israel could have picked up a paper at any number of stands on his way here. But he didn’t.

  Petr saluted him and ran off. Israel watched him leave before trudging up the steps to his tiny, shitty apartment. Hey, at least it was cheap.

  * * *

  “Are you sure this will work?” asked Jordan.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Vix watched the door to Israel’s apartment building. Based on a phone conversation she’d overheard through Israel’s open window, she knew Israel would be coming out soon into the early afternoon to meet an old school friend who was back in town. “Alyx and Israel are meant to be together. All we have to do is get them to meet and true love will take care of the rest.”

  “Well I never,” said Balthazar. “Vixen Demetri, you are a closet hopeless romantic.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said, her cheeks heating up.

  “And this has to happen in less than twenty-four hours?” Jordan snorted. “Twenty-four hours. That’s not love, that’s pheromone-induced lust.”

  “He’s coming,” Vix said as the lobby door swung open and Israel stepped out. She shoved Jordan and Balthazar back behind the wall. “Get out of sight.”

  Balthazar saluted and the two of them disappeared under his Mirage magic.

  Vix may not have magic of her own, but that wouldn’t stop her. She had more than enough bloodink, distilled blood from a Seraphim with inherent magic, tattooed onto her arm to do what she needed to do. She walked out onto the sidewalk, moving towards Israel, and loosened the scarf around her neck. As she approached she drew upon the AirWhisperer bloodink tattoo, the shape of a circle with wavy lines cutting across the center, hidden under her jacket. It rushed through her veins like a sharp icy wind, causing her heart to beat faster and her fingertips to tingle like she was about to grab a live wire. God, she loved using magic. It could be addictive. To some of their community of angels…it was.

  Vix sent out a controlled gust of Air that picked up her scarf and blew it straight into Israel’s face, wrapping it around his head. He skidded to a halt on the sidewalk, letting out a short cry as his hands flew up.

  “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed as she reached up to help him pull the scarf off. She brushed her fingertips against his forehead and, using magic drawn from her MemorySong bloodink tattoo, she implanted a tiny memory. Earlier she had implanted a corresponding memory in Alyx’s mind by using the same trick.

  She fought the urge to pull him into a bear hug and slap his back affectionately or to punch him for forgetting her.

  “The wind today. It’s just crazy,” Vix said to Israel, trying to look as apologetic as possible as she wound her scarf back around her neck.

  He no longer had a scar cutting across his top lip. He probably wouldn’t even have those three silver knife scars across his torso anymore either. Of course he wouldn’t. As a mortal he didn’t have half the supernatural population trying to use him and the other half trying to kill him.

  Israel frowned, his eyes slightly glazed. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said almost absently.

  Vix smiled as she watched Israel walk away. Her plan was going to work. She knew it would. Alyx and Israel were meant to be together.

  An unwanted worm of unease wriggled its way through her excitement. She knew she wasn’t supposed to mess with fate. But if fate wasn’t doing its job properly, then she had no choice, right?

  Besides, what was the worst thing that could happen?

  * * *

  “Vix…if you get caught,” warned Jordan. Vix, Jordan and Balthazar were standing on the roof of one of the office buildings in the Saint Joseph finance district. Up here the city looked like an uneven patchwork of steep slate roofs and orange brick, the city’s thirteen cathedrals piercing the gray sky with their spires like sets of black or copper fangs. The locals had even taken to jokingly calling them “demon’s teeth”.

  “Stop being such a worry wart,” Vix said. “We won’t get caught. It’s a Sunday. Hardly anyone except for Mr. Uptight Accountant is in the office today.” She slipped over the edge of the roof and hung upside down mid-air, her fingers curling under the grimy top sill as she peered into the window of the top floor of Peterka, Jezek & Ferret and into Daniel’s office. This was an old brick building built pre-war, which meant solid, imposing walls and columns, and tall, slim windows shaded by overhanging sills where gray vines twisted around crouched stone monsters that spat rainwater from their mouths. Jordan and Balthazar leaned over a low decorative wall that hid the rainwater drains at the edge of the roof, behind which was a steep slope of slate tiles.

  “What do you see?” Balthazar hissed down to her.

  She waved at him to shut up.

  Inside the office Daniel was in a suit—crisply ironed dark pants, white dress shirt, no jacket—and sitting at his desk, tapping away at his keyboard. It was ridiculously tidy, all the book spines neatly lined up in the bookcase, the piles of paper on his desk in neat piles, his jacket on a hanger on a coat rack by the door. Even his coffee mug had a coaster underneath it. Alyx is marrying this guy?

  She watched him work, methodical tapping of keys and studying of sheets of paper. She thought she might fall asleep hanging there when Daniel pushed back his chair and exited his office. A rush of adrenaline surged through her body. Now was her chance. “I’m going in,” she called up to her two waiting friends.

  The window was locked from the inside. Luckily they still had old-fashioned metal latches. Vix pressed her fingers to the window frame closest to the lock and reached out with Alchemist magic from the corresponding bloodink tattoo on her arm to feel the lock. Her blood warmed from the magic and there was the tang of metal in her mouth.

  The lock was made of iron. Here goes nothing. Using the Alchemist magic, she began to push the molecules around in the metal.

  A long time ago, before Vix was kicked out of Urielos, one of their hidden Seraphim cities, she had a special and forbidden friendship with a Castus, a higher-ranking Seraphim with inherent m
agic. In secret they would meet and Danielle would often try to teach Vix about her Alchemist magic, letting Vix practice with her undistilled blood-magic, a highly intimate and very taboo practice, especially between a warrior and a Castus. Should Vix be thankful that Danielle had taught her how to manipulate Alchemist so well?

  The ghost of pain flashed in an old wound. Being thankful for anything Danielle had given her felt like a betrayal all over again.

  “Come on, Vix. What’s taking so long?” Jordan asked.

  She was out of practice and she was performing a reversal of what she used to secretly practice with Danielle’s blood-magic. Plus she was thinking about Danielle again. And that was something that made her blood simmer even now, after all these years. Even now after she’d fallen in love with someone else.

  “Stop distracting me,” she muttered, unsure of whether she was talking to Jordan or the memory of an old love.

  Vix focused on the molecules in the lock, shutting out all other thoughts, coaxing them with a calm yet firm magical push.

  Almost got it. Almost…there.

  Finally the iron lock completely dissolved, defrosting like ice into a liquid that dribbled down the inside of the sill. Vix made a tiny noise of victory as the window opened on its hinge for her.

  She heard Balthazar sniffing loudly. “Did you turn that into…wine?”

  “It’s the reversal of part of the Alchemist’s Challenge,” Vix said as she pushed the window open wider.

  “The Alchemist’s Challenge is a contest we hold at fairs and festivals,” she heard Jordan explaining to Balthazar. “Each contestant starts with a bowl of water. They have to turn it into wine, then wine to iron, then…” She stopped hearing him when she slipped inside.

  Her eyes darted to the partially open door that showed some of the interior office space, a jumble of open desks and other offices. There was still no sign of Daniel. She flew to his desk and grabbed his cell phone. She opened up a new message and began to type one out to Alyx.

  “I have something different planned for tonight…”

  * * *

  As dusk was staining the Saint Joseph sky like spilled wine and casting the city’s “demon’s teeth” into silhouettes, Israel and his friend Anton sat on one of the benches in Remembrance Park, a park originally built to commemorate those fallen in World War II. It hadn’t changed in all the years Israel had lived here, although most of the sections of the tattered iron fence had been repaired. The air still held the slight acridness of smoke, and underneath all these solemn, ancient trees it never seemed to get warm no matter how hot the summer got. The lights stationed at regular intervals along the paths had already come on, creating sickly pools of watery light. In the distance Israel could see a thick rolling army of gray clouds racing across the sky towards them.

  “I don’t know why you’re still here,” Anton said, cigarette smoke spitting out from his lips.

  Israel leaned back into the cool metal bench to avoid the waft of smoke. “We’ve had this conversation.”

  “And you still don’t have a good answer for me. There’s so much more outside of this forgotten city for you.”

  Israel knew he didn’t have a good reason for wanting to stay in Saint Joseph. How could he explain it? Even he didn’t really understand it. He knew he would leave one day, but for now it felt like…like he was waiting for something.

  The small familiar figure hurrying up one of the paths towards them made Israel sit up. It was Petr, his ill-fitting rags flapping against his skinny limbs.

  “Hey, Petr,” Israel called out. “Where’s the fire?”

  Anton gave Petr a look, then raised an eyebrow at Israel, but he didn’t say anything. Anton was probably used to his bleeding heart ways.

  When the boy reached his bench he grabbed Israel by the hand and tugged. “Israel, hurry.”

  “Whoa, Petr.” He grabbed Petr’s arm to stop him from rushing off. “What’s going on?”

  Petr turned his dirt-streaked face towards him. “You have to come with me. Now.”

  “Why?”

  Petr stopped tugging and pursed his lips. “You just have to come,” he repeated.

  “Not until you tell me why.”

  Petr paused. He spoke slowly and carefully. “A lady told me to bring you to her. She said she had a surprise for you, one that you’d really really like.”

  “A lady?” Anton snorted beside him, which Israel ignored.

  “Does this lady have a name?” Israel asked.

  “She said her name was Alyx.”

  Alyx. Israel frowned. The name seemed so familiar. Like he should know this Alyx. “What’s Alyx like?”

  “She’s real pretty and real nice,” said Petr with a smile and slightly dazed look in his eyes. Israel hid a grin. Little Petr might just be discovering girls. “She gave me a hundred Euros to come get you.”

  Pretty, nice…and had money to burn.

  Anton laughed and nudged him. “You lucky dog. How come you always get all the good ones? One of your lady friends must have figured out some kind of…” he cleared his throat, “naughty surprise for you.”

  Petr’s face suddenly went all serious again. “Will you come?”

  Naughty surprise. Well that sounded…more than nice. “Sure.”

  Petr’s face dissolved into relief. Israel said his goodbyes to Anton. The instant that he stood Petr was tugging on his hand again. Petr led him back along the path and out of Remembrance Park. “Where’re we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Israel grinned. The boy’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on him. This must be some surprise.

  Petr dragged him along in silence, through the streets of Saint Joseph until they came to the gates of a familiar cathedral. Israel raised an eyebrow. What kind of lady friend wanted to meet at a church?

  Mass was only led on Sunday mornings, so St. Paul’s Cathedral was still and silent by Sunday evening. The clouds that had been so far away before were now above, casting a dull light over the city.

  The clock struck and the bells rang out to signal six o’clock, startling him. He had always loved the sound of the bells. They’d always vibrated through him with a clear, loud tone.

  Petr led him right to the top steps of the cathedral. “I’m to go. But you have to wait here.”

  Israel chuckled. “Okay…what for?”

  Petr’s look turned intense. “Your destiny.”

  * * *

  Alyx frowned as she read Daniel’s text again. Meet me at six o’clock…

  The text seemed so mysterious and spontaneous. Daniel was never mysterious or spontaneous. When they met for dinner they only ever went to the Mercantile Club for drinks, two brandies neat for him, before going across the road to the Green Olive, where he always ordered a green salad and rump steak, no sauce.

  Now he wanted her to meet him…here?

  Why?

  With the thick clouds closing in overhead, she knew a storm was coming. She’d tried to call Daniel to ask him to meet somewhere else, somewhere inside and dry, but his phone just went straight to voicemail. That was strange too. Daniel never had his phone off.

  There was nothing to do except to hurry up and meet him and hope that the rain didn’t start before they got inside.

  She felt a little flutter in her stomach as she approached Saint Paul’s Cathedral. Old and grand, it was a latticework of carvings and carved spires and towers. Of soaring stained glass windows, of thick, giant iron-studded doors. Of a single looming bell tower that pointed to the heavens and the wrinkled, golden-faced clock, keeping the time and the movements of the planets and watching over the whole city. She loved this ancient cathedral.

  She crossed under the stone arch, past the lacework iron gate, and into the grounds through the back. She knew it was silly. But as she stepped through the threshold she felt transported into another world—one where magic could happen.

  The sitting dragon gargoyles watched her from above as she walked across the soft ca
rpet of grass around the building towards the front door. When was the last time she even came here? She used to come here often…on Sunday mornings with her mother before—

  She shoved that thought away. She turned the corner and spotted Daniel on the steps waiting for her in front of the familiar opposing angels holding swords hammered lovingly into the giant gray doors. At least, she thought it was him. His partial silhouette in this dusky light seemed wider than usual. Had he been working out more? As she ran her eyes over the outline of his broad shoulders and wide torso, an unfamiliar heat rippled through her. That was odd. Good, but odd. Maybe this would turn out to be a lovely surprise. She wondered if Daniel would appreciate her ogling him and hid a smile. Ogling him at a church, no less. He would not be amused.

  Why here? Why at a church?

  Oh my God. Did he actually take what she’d said on board and decided to just elope without the fuss of a large wedding? She felt sick, like someone had punched her in the lower gut. He hasn’t seen you. Go. Turn around. Run. Now!

  What do you think that means, Alyx?

  Daniel lifted a hand to her and waved.

  He’d seen her. It was too late now. She’d just have to figure out some excuse not to get married right here and right now. She leaned into the wind, which had picked up, and kept walking towards him. Her turbulent thoughts swirled to a stop as she neared the small platform around the entrance.

  This wasn’t Daniel.

  Who was he? Why did he wave at her? Why was he looking at her as if he was expecting her?

  He must be a friend of Daniel’s. But where was Daniel?

  As she got closer to him, his face came into view and her stomach began to jumble. At least a head taller than her, taut golden skin over defined muscles, his stance was wide and confident, and his chin was tilted up as he looked back her. He was gorgeous. But there was an edge to his beauty, his dark clothes, the stubble shadowing his cut jaw, and a mischievousness to his eyes which, in this light, looked as gray as the metal of the doors. His dark hair was messy and fell over his forehead. Strangely, her fingers itched to push it back, an urge that seemed so familiar, and she just knew his locks would be as soft as they looked.