by Hunter Blain
Where was I? Oh yeah, almost being vertically bisected by an angel.
In my haze, I knew I didn’t have much of a choice now. It was all or nothing. I willed the angel’s life force from his blood-soaked liver to flow into my gladius and up my arm, becoming a part of me. As his blood infused mine, a new world was revealed like a curtain dropping at the theater. All I had ever known was the curtain, but now, the show was starting.
Hairs prickled over my entire body. My eyes rolled in elation. My jaw fell open as a moan of delight escaped my mouth. The fingers on my remaining hand tingled, along with my toes, lips, and nose. I was vaguely aware that I could feel tingling on my right hand as well. Through my angelical inebriation, I barely opened one eye enough to see a stream of blood connecting my severed arm and shoulder socket. The appendage was being lovingly hoisted off the ground and toward its rightful home.
The angel was huge and had a lot of eternally old blood to give. He fought, pushing at my chest with his free hand as the other tried desperately to wedge the sword from the stone. I lifted my elongated right arm and wrapped it around the angel’s neck once before placing it on my left shoulder. My hand gripped my shoulder hard, and I pulled myself closer, choking my attacker as I did. His hand moved up from my chest and to his throat, where it was met by his other hand after giving up on the sword. The angel’s strength waned as I drained him, and his eyes began to flutter as his giant body began to slump over. His arms fell limply to his sides as his final breath was slowly exhaled.
As the last of his blood flowed into me, I pulled the blade out and uncoiled my arm from around his neck, letting the massive and beautiful corpse collapse to the ground. The clang of the armor against the concrete reminded me of a garbage truck ungracefully setting an industrial-sized bin on the ground.
In my blissful inebriation, I waited for the angel to turn into translucent ectoplasm and evaporate, but it didn’t. I just stood there, drunkenly dumbfounded that this was an actual body.
“Holy shit. Did I just kill a real fucking angel?” I asked, feeling the seriousness of my actions sink into my core and then blossom outward to my limbs as the realization grew. This was probably the worst thing I had ever done, and it was mixed with the best, most powerful blood I had ever consumed. Drunken pleasure warred with the preternatural equivalent of adrenaline. There was NO WAY I was getting into Heaven now, man.
I expressed my worry with elegance and class.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” I paced back and forth, pulling my gray beanie off and running my hands through my shoulder-length black hair. My arm had returned back to regular length, and the feel of my own touch was electrifying. The light from the moon rippled like the water’s surface after you had barely touched it with your finger. I wanted to scream in both delight and terror.
Replacing my beanie, I set my jaw and used all my willpower to focus.
“Okay. What do I do first?” I asked myself as if I were super hammered at a party, the hot cheerleader wanted to have sex with me, and I was doing my best pep talk in the bathroom mirror—even though I knew I had consumed way too much to perform.
I looked around and immediately noticed we were at the end of the alley. I grabbed one foot of the giant corpse before me and dragged him behind a building and away from the line of sight of the street. Though it was empty due to it being so late—or early, however you wanted to look at it—it was still not worth risking a late-night patrol or some poor mortal making a diaper run or something.
Picking up my cell phone, I unlocked it and pushed the green phone icon. My fingers trembled in ecstasy as my Favorites list popped up and I quickly tapped Depweg’s name. After what felt like an eternity of me pacing a hole into the concrete, Depweg’s voicemail picked up. Cursing, and then giggling, I pushed the End Call button and looked again at my Favorites list. Without much choice, I called my silver medal go-to guy.
“What have you done this time, John?” Da’s curtly cultured British voice answered.
“How did you…” I began, and then shrugged off the absurdity of the question. “I really should call my friends more in a social setting. Teehee.”
“Probably. Now, what do you need?” he asked absently, as if being distracted from a task. He better not be watching Stranger Things without me. “Wait a moment. Did you just ‘teehee’ me?”
“Ikilledanangelandneedhelpmovinghismassivebody,” I blurted out quickly as I kicked the armor-plated thigh of the giant sack of meat, but it didn’t budge. “This is your fault!” I cried to the stone-cold angel.
Both Da and the angel met me with deafening silence.
Oh dear. He might not be pleased that I’d killed one of his kind. Da was a faerie who believed himself to be an angel and unironically hated fairies.
“What was his name?” Da asked somberly.
“He didn’t say. Only mumbled something about sending me to Hell or something.” My voice shook like a meth addict. I was losing the battle between the blood high and my higher brain functions. I let loose a moan that belonged in an adult video and rolled my eyes. I just wanted to fall backward into the lazy river of eternity and float while stars danced in the sky.
“Where are you?” he asked flatly, concern and annoyance evident in his voice. I gave him my coordinates, i.e. dropped a pin and shared it on my phone’s map app. It took several tries to get the pin just right. I might have sent one in the middle of the ocean for all I knew.
Da hung up without so much as a goodbye, but at least he was on his way to me and hopefully not the ocean. Excuse me, gulf, technically.
While I waited for him to arrive with my Kia Optima, Mortis, I examined the remains while tittering uncontrollably. An impulse struck and I—not surprisingly—went with it. I wrestled to unlatch a gauntlet and then regarded it at arm’s length as it slid off the muscled forearm. It was absolutely awesome in size and quality. I could probably fit at least three digits in just one of the glove’s fingers. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I pulled the white, smooth armor up to my face and dragged my cheek across it, closing my eyes and moaning as I did. This angel armor was just so smooth.
Angel. Shit. Snap out of it, Lilith damn it!
I opened my eyes, slid my hand into the glove, and held it up. The gauntlet swallowed my entire forearm. It looked cartoonish on me, like a child wearing his dad’s boots.
“Grrr. Avengers, bow before the might of Thanos!” I dramatically exclaimed while shaking my fist. I tried to snap my fingers, but my coordination was slightly impaired for some unknown reason that I shouldn’t be blamed for.
After giggling to myself again, I removed the gauntlet and set it down. My eyes peered at the angel and then locked onto his empty scabbard.
“Oh, shit!” I said as I rushed to where the angel had lodged his sword into the ground. It was gone. It. Was. Fucking. Gone. Only broken concrete that spread out in a spiderweb pattern with a cavern in the middle remained.
I had just lost an angelic weapon. Pretty sure this was going to come back and haunt me.
Another wave of euphoria washed over my body, and I collapsed to my knees, laughing. I grabbed the gauntlet and held it close to my chest like a safety blanket. I mean, comforter. Safety comforter, you know, for adults.
“I lost an angelic sword,” I said between fits of manly giggles. “Oh, man, I killed a real angel.” Tears streamed down my face from both the mirth the beyond ancient blood forced on me and the direness of the situation. I slid the comically sized gauntlet back over my hand and then put my face into its palm. My body shuddered with the most confusing laughter I had ever experienced in over five hundred years.
“Oh, man. Is this what being blitzed is like? Now I get all those stoner movie references!” I said into the massive palm while the laughing fit relented for the time being. I was aware that my cheeks hurt from the aggressive smiling.
The LED lights of Mortis appeared and made their way down the street. I could tell my baby from a mile away. Sure eno
ugh, the white Optima pulled down the alley and stopped in front of me. I stood up, wiping my face with the sleeve of my trench coat that was falling down my arm, and walked to the passenger’s side. The window rolled down leisurely, and I rested my elbows on the door and leaned in.
“A high five is five dollars. A hug is ten. Cuddling, that’ll be twenty, big boy. Or, if you’re feeling frisky…” I said while holding up the giant gauntlet in an R-rated suggestion, eyebrows bouncing up and down.
“Get the body,” Da said. He was only five inches tall, which you would think would make it hard for him to drive; nevertheless, he managed, with magic! He just floated above the seat enough for him to see the road, and pantomimed driving actions. It was adorable, and I had almost giggled to death the first time he insisted on being behind the wheel and I saw him throw the car into drive.
“Little help?” I said. “Get it? ’Cause…’cause you’re little.”
Da turned and looked at me, a serious expression etched into his face.
“Got it. Riding Han Solo on this one,” I said to myself as I turned and walked to where I’d laid the body. My head was swimming, making it hard to walk a straight line. It felt like I was floating rather than walking.
I approached the body aaaannnnnddddd it was gone. I did a Looney Tunes double take at the spot where I knew I had left him.
“The fuck!” was all I could manage with a gaping mouth and bulging eyes. My hands were open and outstretched, as if in doing so, the body would miraculously appear and say, “Just kidding. Here I am!”
But, it didn’t. And yet, I remained in the same position, unbelieving of my luck and not willing to trust my cartwheeling mind high on angel blood.
A feeling of unease settled over me like a storm cloud swallowing the sun. Out of predatory instinct, PS sent out our senses in all directions. My eyes sought heat signatures, even through stone walls. My ears listened for the pumping of a heart, the subtle squeaking of muscle fibers moving, or the barely audible whistle of air passing through nostrils. I reached out my nongauntlet hand in front of me and sent out my will, searching for the electrical impulses created by thoughts. Nothing on all fronts. Reeling in my senses, I tried one last trick and clicked my tongue, hard. I listened for the echo and was drawn to a bulk that seemed out of place on top of one of the roofs. A second click a moment later and the shape was gone.
“Damn it,” I said to myself as I decided to let the situation go. If I couldn’t feel the presence of whatever was up there using all my abilities, I didn’t think I wanted to confront it just yet.
Or maybe I was flying like a kite and barely had the mental capacity to stand on my own two feet.
Reconciling with my situation, I turned and made my way to where Da was waiting. His eyes shot daggers at me. I gripped the door handle and ripped it off like it was being held by a popsicle stick. I held the handle up to my eyes and said, “Odd. Never had that problem before.” Reaching inside the open window, I delicately pulled on the door handle with one finger. It clicked, and the door latch released.
I climbed into the passenger’s seat and stared forward, feeling Da growing impatient and silently demanding an answer as to where the angel’s body was.
“Sooooo, here’s the thing…” I started as I set the broken handle in one of the cup holders.
“You lost the body? Are you bloody kidding me?” I always loved it when he used that apropos British expletive.
Holding up the gauntlet and lightly shaking it once in a show of victory, I said, “I got this!”
Da wasn’t amused. In midair, he threw the car into reverse and backed us out of the alley. Once on the street, he mimed shifting the car into drive, and we started forward down the road.
“Tell me everything that happened, John. Leave out no detail.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yes, of course,” he responded, frustrated.
I told him everything that had happened, going into needless and excruciating detail about my romp with Lily. He cut me off with a look of distaste, and I continued with only the important details, though I was smiling and laughing like a schoolchild who had just told a boob joke.
At my conclusion, Da sat in silence with only the noises of the road for company. After a few minutes, he said, “It’s not a coincidence that the Jezebel appeared first.”
A pang of annoyance bubbled in my core, surprising me that I was slightly offended at the reference to Lily. I thought on this as I stared out the window in silence.
“John,” Da derailed my train of thought. “Focus.”
“Yeah. You’re right. She knew something,” I agreed while absently watching the lights of the highway run up and over the car only to retreat behind us.
“She’s not going to be happy that you interpreted her commands in your favor. We both know you were itching for a fight, and she will too.” After a few moments of silence, he finished with, “I wonder what dominoes are going to tumble as a result of tonight.” Worry crept into his voice.
Shit. He’s right. I was already up to my tits in demons—now I’d probably added angry holy warriors to my watchlist. I was sure this wasn’t going to end with me getting a big, shiny medal.
“You need to bring Father Thomes into this,” Da said.
“Fffffuuuuuccccckkkkk,” I breathed out heavily. “He’s going to be so pissed.”
“Rightfully so, I imagine.”
“But maybe he can help make things right. I mean, the dude had a flaming sword pointed at me and was talking about eternal punishment and shit!” I pleaded, grasping at dead vines as quicksand sucked me down.
“Mm-hmm,” Da agreed with absolute sincerity and not an ounce of obvious doubt.
2
I got lost in thought for the rest of the ride. Worry grew like a plague inside my chest, both at my imagination playing scenarios of punishment from heavenfolk and from thinking about what Father T was going to do. The last time I had done something stupid, he had chained me up in a special room made specifically for me—which was both touching and horrifying. After keeping my ass locked away for several days and being driven to the brink of dipping my toe in the pool of insanity from thirst, I had managed to escape, only to almost be incinerated by his holy magic. That’s where it got good; after that, I had to face scary ass stone gargoyles that literally ripped pieces of my supermodel body apart. Depweg had saved my ass that day, and unlike Lily, hadn’t evoked a bullshit life debt.
Father Thomes and I had made up since then, and I was convinced that he only had my best interests at heart. Sure, the mortal priest couldn’t fully understand the power of the thirst, but he had to have some semblance of an idea. It’s what drove me and kept me sane. Blood was both my elixir of eternal life and purest joy. There was simply no pharmaceutical drug on earth that could even remotely compare to the elation and sense of completeness from imbibing pure life energy straight from the tap. I had even discovered I could drink from the supernatural community, though I was quite confident that was frowned upon.
As we pulled further away from the scene of the crime, the thought of absorbing blood from an angel who had been alive since the beginning of time shot through my mind. I noticed that my legs were slightly bouncing up and down and that my fingertips, lips, ears, nose, and toes were all still tingling. A rogue giggle escaped my throat before I could cover my mouth with my free hand.
Da looked over at me with one raised eyebrow. Keeping my hand over my mouth, I shook my head a couple times in a show of “don’t worry about it.” Now that the danger was over and PS had given back full control of the wheel, all I could feel was the dizzying high from timeless, powerful blood. It was starting to feel more akin to what I assumed heroin to be like. I closed my eyes and rested the back of my noggin on the headrest, trying to ride out the wave. I quickly realized that closing my eyes had not been the best idea as my world began to spin. I shot my hands and feet out with a terrified yelp, trying to catch myself from the fall I wasn’t actuall
y experiencing. Da responded appropriately by screaming and losing control of his focus and the car. He fell to the seat with a whoosh of air from his tiny lungs as Mortis ran amok, free from his commands.
Looking forward, I saw and felt that we had just jumped the curb and were about to smash into a telephone pole. I quickly grabbed the wheel and corrected our course, hitting a side-view mirror with the pole. Cursing, I steered us into the middle of the road, where the car began to slow down.
Da was just now inhaling his first breath of air. He held his chest and gulped widely, appearing to suck in more air than he ever had before.
“WHAT…WAS…THAT?” he asked between breaths. In answer, I began tittering like a schoolgirl while shaking my head and trying to say, “I don’t know!” but all that came out were high-pitched vowels, like a whining dog on a YouTube video.
Looking at me intently, Da regained focus and floated above the driver’s seat, pantomiming the ten and two position at the wheel. A scowl creased his brow as he set his jaw.
I had never felt anything like this after a feeding. Not from Lily when she had brought me back from the brink of death. Not from Ulric when he had first made me. Though they had been good, it was as if the energy had been filtered. This angel blood felt like discovering a fine wine that had been aged for hundreds of years. But it wasn’t just the fact that knowing the rarity of the wine made it better. This blood had been the purest I had ever had, and I wanted to strip my clothes off and dance naked in the moonlight. I wanted to buy a big farm, adopt every puppy in the whole world, and roll in the grass as they clamored over me with puppy kisses. I wanted every homeless child to have a puppy they could roll around in the grass with. Then I wanted to fall back into a beanbag chair and listen to reggae music while not moving for hours. Lilith, what was wrong with me? I hated reggae.
Mortis abruptly coming to a stop brought me slightly out of my trip enough to see that we were in front of the creepiest fucking church in existence. My eyes instinctively shot up to where two of the gargoyles were now missing, having been turned to kitty litter by Depweg. The urge to close my eyes and fake a coma rose up. I couldn’t put my gauntleted finger on whether this was really because I really, really did not want to see Father Thomes right now or if my high was wearing off—or maybe I just deserved a little rest and relaxation once in a while.
