Angel

by Plum Pascal

  Feeling pain in each of my limbs, I struggle to remember where I am. The last thing I recall is healing the beautiful angel. Beautiful, but powerful in a way I find myself wary of. Angels and fae are friends, yes, but Variant is also an angel and we all know how that story ended.

  Angels are beings of light, but they aren’t immune to corruption. And I know their proclivity toward decadence and greed better than most.

  Then, I remember the visions the angel had...

  First, the fucking. A not-altogether-unpleasant visual. It was more than a vision, though. Like a dream, the sensation—phantom, but present—has arrested me and now I can’t stop replaying the feeling of my cock sinking into her, the way her flesh yielded.

  I don’t trust her. And I don’t trust the vision, either. In fact, the more I think about it, the more convinced I become that she’s after something. Women, I’ve found, are manipulative, and the smart ones understand they possess what every man wants between their legs. This one is no different. I’m more than convinced she’s using her extreme beauty to seduce us. And, so far, it appears to be working. Well, at least on Dragan.

  Yet, I, too, find myself craving her, the way an Atacomite addict craves his poison. But I’m not satisfied that this desire originates from inside me. Instead, I wonder if I’ve been enchanted. Dragan definitely appears to have been completely bewitched, because he can’t take his bloody eyes off her for more than a few seconds. The barbarian is too stupid for his own good.

  I can’t deny there was attraction between the angel and me from the onset. I know that much is true. But the ferocity of my need and my inability to curb it fills me with concern. I’m not a man who obsesses over a woman; I’ve never been that type. I’m too rational, too logical of mind. And yet I can’t stop thinking about this woman—a woman I don’t even know.

  She’s placed falsehoods in my mind, I’m sure of it. And these lies are confusing because they feel like the truth. For example, I now have a memory of an event (of us fucking) that never occurred.

  Then it was a vision of the future, perhaps? I think to myself and can’t help the swelling of my dick.

  If it’s a picture of the future, I worry about the implications of participating in a destiny I didn’t help dictate. In general, I’m a planner. I’m not like Dragan, who lives according to his impulses. Instead, I weigh all things and act accordingly. I don’t like risks.

  And the feeling I had when I witnessed our sexual tryst was that I had no control over myself. Yes, I was in control of penetrating her, but she was the one who maintained the power. It’s difficult to explain, because I hardly understand it myself, but I felt as if I were her captive—as if I was incapable of denying her… anything. I felt helpless against her female charm. It’s a feeling that’s visited me in wisps since I’ve laid eyes on her.

  Her beauty is undeniable, but it’s her power that concerns me.

  I’ve seen first-hand the hold she already has on Dragan and I won’t allow myself to become her second casualty. Where he sees an injured doe in the woods, I see an intelligent predator in the midst of setting a very convincing trap…

  The vision she had of the battle is more difficult to explain. It was the darkest day in my memory. And the sight of it forced me to revisit all the feelings and emotions I’d had so long ago. The anxiety, the agony of watching my comrades destroyed right in front of me, the crushing weight that came with the realization that we’d lost to Variant.

  And it wasn’t even losing to Variant that stings the most. It was the corruption and duplicity of the Unseelie King, Theren, that still burns me as sharply as it did one hundred years ago. Perhaps that’s because the Seelie and the Unseelie, though different as night and day, have always been allies—until Variant made a mockery of that alliance. Or perhaps the Unseelie’s treachery never stopped stinging because Theren, the Unseelie King, is also my brother.

  I close my eyes against the memories. The battle was so long ago, yet it still burns as if it were yesterday. Instead, I focus on remembering. On tracing the steps that led to me sitting here, in this shadow forest with these assholes.

  Shortly after witnessing the battle vision, courtesy of the angel and her suspicious magic, the world went dark. But what had happened just prior to that? I close my eyes and rack my brain, trying to understand. Suddenly, I see Dragan’s face and, along with it, I feel a flash of anger.

  My eyes blaze open.

  The fucker used his magic against me! It’s his fault I’m here now, in the middle of this fucking forest in the shadow realm!

  I return my focus to the fire and make out the white of the angel’s hair. She seems to be glowing with a light entirely her own. Her sheet is wrapped tightly around her shoulders and even from my spot, separate from the group, I can see she’s shivering. I shift my weight onto my aching legs and stand.

  I don’t care that the angel’s shivering. She can be damned, for all the shits I give. As far as I’m concerned, she’s more witch than angel.

  “You’ll be punished for what you’ve done,” I say to Dragan when I meet him beside the fire. Just being near the light and warmth revives me somewhat. My gaze is hard, and my voice matches the cold of the chilled air.

  Slowly, Dragan turns his attention away from the fire and locks eyes with mine. The flames reflect back at me from within his irises and the hatred between us is thick and tense. I’m beyond livid. I feel the rage build, the palms of my hands electric in anticipation of magic. If provoked, I will magic him out of this plane and into another. I need only be triggered. And there’s a very large part of me that hopes Dragan rises to the occasion.

  “We were out of time,” he explains casually.

  The fury within me grows even stronger. “No. You were out of time.”

  “My business is now your business,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “No, it’s not.” I inhale deeply, subduing the need to pull my arm back and punch him right in the face. “I’m a king,” I start.

  “You were a king,” he interrupts, his voice dripping with disdain. He crouches down in front of the fire, his large wings folded but tense behind him. It could be my imagination, but the flames appear to reach higher, their flickering tips licking the upper reaches of his shining eyes. Raw power emanates from him, but he doesn’t intimidate me. He never has.

  I notice the girl; her face is weary, but her eyes are alert and intelligent. She watches us. The blue of her irises rattles me because there’s something more there than meets the eye. It’s almost as though she can see right through me and it’s not a feeling I appreciate. I force myself to turn again to Dragan.

  “I’m still a king, in case you’ve forgotten. I command a legion of fae, all loyal to me. And all will be eager to have your head.”

  “A legion of fae who can’t leave the fae realm,” Dragan chides.

  “Regardless, I’m sure Variant will be very interested to know that two gargoyles abducted me.”

  “Don’t threaten me with Variant,” Dragan says, his expression souring. “And as far as you’re concerned, faerie, we may need you now but as soon as you’re no longer necessary, you bet your ass I’ll have no problem returning you to your… quaint little village.”

  Anger pulses through me, pushing the emotion to the forefront of my brain. “You’ll return me now!”

  “No,” Dragan asserts and his eyes are narrow, angry.

  I don’t have time for a war of words. Even the most logical argument will mean nothing to the thick-headed gargoyle. He’s so fucking stupid, I half-believe his mind is made of stone.

  “Where are we?” I demand.

  “Does it matter?” He loosens his attack-ready crouch and rocks back into a more neutral position beside the fire.

  “Yes, it fucking matters!” I yell. “And I demand to know!”

  “You’re not in a position to be demanding anything.”

  I hear a small laugh, like the ringing of a bell, and notice the sprite perched on the angel’s
knee. “Look, his royal highness is awake!”

  My hands clench. If I hadn’t wanted to kill the bloody thing before, I do now.

  “Where the fuck are we?” I repeat as I face Dragan, my voice deadly.

  Dragan sighs like he’s completely uninterested in me and this conversation. “We’re in The Raven Forest, outside Grimreap.”

  My face must reveal my surprise. Why we’ve come here, of all places, baffles me. Grimreap is a place so vile, it’s said it was born from death itself. Its very existence hinges on the tortured souls that sustain it. The city goes against the natural order, against life itself, and revels in the void. It’s not shadow nor mortal nor fae—it’s only horror and death. To bring me here is greater than any insult Dragan could throw my way.

  “Grimreap?” I repeat, shaking my head. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

  “I saved our lives.”

  “Saved our lives?” I feel my mouth drop open. “Are you really that stupid?”

  “Grimreap is the last place anyone would assume we’d go and it’s the best place for that reason alone,” he insists.

  “But Variant—”

  “If we’re lucky, he knows nothing,” Dragan interrupts.

  “You think Anona won’t tell him that you stole the angel and disappeared?”

  He cocks his head to the side as though he’s not sure what he believes. “Anona won’t want to risk her already delicate favor with Variant by revealing she was housing an angel in the first place.” He sighs, long and hard.

  “And if we aren’t lucky?”

  He nods, as if he believes this option to be the case. “Then a hundred eyes have seen us. Which means Variant knows we have Eilish, but he doesn’t know what she is. No one does, except for the four of us.”

  “What she is?” I repeat, shaking my head at his idiocy.

  “An angel,” he finishes.

  “An intact angel, a subject on which none of us knows the truth,” I correct him. He just nods, then breathes in deeply. He can’t argue with me on this, because he’s just as uninformed as I am with regard to the subject of whether or not the angel really is whole.

  “Regardless,” I continue. “I want no part of this.”

  “It’s a little late.”

  “You came to me,” I remind him, glaring. “I could’ve denied you! Refused to see you! I could’ve—”

  Dragan interrupts me again, holding up his hand, “But you didn’t. Which means you’re now as much a part of this as any of us. If Variant catches you, you’re as good as dead. So, I suggest you stop your incessant noise and help us devise a plan.”

  I’m fuming. Beyond livid. I feel the air around me vibrate, touched with the energy of my anger. “You’re saying you brought me to Grimreap, to the city of the dead, and you don’t have a fucking plan?”

  “No.”

  “You are even fucking dumber than I thought! And you’ve sentenced us all to death,” I snarl through clenched teeth as I scowl at him. “You fucking cock!”

  Dragan stares into the fire and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

  I continue, the reality of our situation settling in, “And you’ve damned us for what?” I look at the girl. “You don’t even know if she has her wings! You don’t even know if she’s actually a fucking angel!” I scowl at her, then at him. “You’ve damned us for a fucking whore!”

  Dragan’s in front of me in a split second, his hand around my throat. He lifts me into the air and it becomes impossible to breathe. I sputter and try to kick at him but he’s immense and built like a wall, so what little I attempt does nothing to dissuade him from choking the life out of me. His eyes are angrier than I’ve ever seen them.

  “Shadow Demon!” the sprite yells at him as it spirals around his head. “You can’t hurt him! We need him! Remember what Eilish said!”

  After another few seconds, Dragan releases me. I reach for my throat and begin rubbing it as I inhale deeply and then erupt into a coughing fit.

  “Don’t you ever call her a whore again,” he warns, his words dripping with ire. “Next time, I’ll kill you.”

  ###

  Flumph

  I watch the elf king pantin’ an’ lookin’ real angry-like. Dragan turn his back on Cambion an’ walks away, like, five steps. But Cambion continue to stare at him like he real mad. I think maybe it’s just a trick o’ the fire, but he got gold sparks, like embers, bouncin’ ‘round between his fingers. I’m worried for what he’s gonna do.

  “Don’t do this, Cambion,” Dragan say real quiet-like even though he don’t even turn ‘round. It like he got eyes on the back o’ his head ‘cause he know Cambion standin’ there, ready to attack him.

  “Fuck you!”

  Then Cambion release whatever was brewin’ between his fingers, but it misses Dragan. So Cambion lunges for Dragan an’ Dragan slam his fist into the ground, an’ there’s like a big-ass earthquake an’ Cambion lose his balance real quick. Dragan stand up straight an’ his big-ass black wings go spreadin’ out real wide.

  I can’t tell ya who I’m rootin’ for, just that I’m enjoyin’ the show.

  Just as I’m wishin’ there was popcorn, there’s a shift in the air. Like the energy jist got sucked outta the man-tiff that’s goin’ on in front o’ me. Befores I can take another breath, the angel does this weird high-pitched squeak thing. Suddenly, all eyes are on her.

  “Stop,” she says in a little voice.

  “You keep your mouth shut, whoever the hell you are!” Cambion rail at her an’ he takes a couple steps closer, lookin’ at her like she the devil herself. “She’s just a stupid fucking…”

  But before he can finish, Dragan’s right in front o’ him like he’s thinkin’ Cambion’s gonna hurt her or some shit. Anyways, Dragan slam his fist into Cambion’s face an’ the elf king goes flyin’, like, ten feet. He land on the ground but he up faster than I can blink. An’ then, in like another blink, his fist is slammin’ ‘cross Dragan’s face. The gargoyle king launches backwards, which surprise the hells outta me ‘cause Cambion don’t look like he got it in ‘em to knock Dragan off his feet!

  Dragan get up to his knees an’ check his jaw to make sure it ain’t broke, an’ then he face Cambion an’ he’s, like, mega-pissed. But rather than punchin’ Cambion back into the Fae Realm, Dragan surprise us all when he hold up his big mitt o’ a hand.

  “Enough!” he yell as he stand there, pantin’.

  Cambion stride closer but he don’t make no move to attack. He just stand, too, glarin’. His lip is bleedin’ real bad where the gargoyle king got a good shot in.

  “He’s right,” Dragan say as he look from Cambion to me. I’m just as surprised by Dragan’s words as Cambion is.

  “There’s been no proof that she’s an intact angel,” Dragan say. Then he glare at me an’ Cambion glare at me, too, like it be my fault they’re goin’ nuclear on each other’s asses.

  “I ain’t lyin,” I say, gettin’ real sick o’ this convo. “I saw what I said I saw.”

  “If it’s true, tell her to show us,” Cambion demand as he faces Eilish. “If you’re really an angel, show us your wings.”

  “If you been holdin’ back,” I says as I look at her. “You gotta stop holdin’ back now, girl. They’s at their wits end an’ I don’t wanna get kilt ‘cause they ain’t believin’ me.” I take a breath. “Make them wings come out your back, Eilish, please.”

  Her eyes are wide an’ she frown, droppin’ her head real sad-like. “I don’t… know how,” she answer, her voice low an’ exhausted.

  THIRTEEN

  Cambion

  The Raven Forest,

  Shadow Realm

  “Leave her be,” Dragan says as he faces the “angel” and then glares at me. “She’s dealt with enough.”

  Dragan has it worse than I imagined. I don’t know if the woman has charmed him or what, but he’s unreliable now. He’s fully in bed with her, and that makes him dangerous. When I chance a quick look back, I find h
er sitting against the tree. Her eyes are wide, but she makes no motion to say or do anything. I’m not convinced she’s even an angel. Maybe a hag magicking herself to appear as one. If a hag’s magic were strong enough, it would be possible.

  “You’re putting all your faith into this supposed angel, but you still don’t know if she really has her wings,” I say, my voice coarse.

  “I can’t argue that point,” Dragan admits reluctantly.

  “Right. None of us can.” Then, I turn to face the sprite. “The only person here who insists the angel has wings is you,” I point out, inhaling deeply. I’m tired of this subject and I want answers once and for all. “For all we know, she’s either charmed you just like she’s attempting to charm us, or you’re fully aware of her duplicity.”

  “What are you going on about?” Dragan insists.

  I look at Dragan but I don’t respond right away. Instead, I glance at Thoradin and find him studying me with interest. He’s following the line of my argument. And, from his expression, it doesn’t seem as though he finds my perspective unbelievable. Hmm, maybe someone will see reason after all.

  “I don’t believe our angel is all she appears to be,” I finish.

  “I ain’t no liar,” Flumph squeaks, flitting away from the fire so he can come right up into my face. “I ain’t!” he repeats emphatically, his voice growing even more tinny in its emotion. “I saws what I saws, an’ I’m tellin’ you, she got her wings! Big ‘uns, too!”

  “There you have it,” Dragan says with a shrug.

  I can’t hide my incredulity. “So that’s it? We just believe him?” I ask, facing Dragan first and then Thoradin. Both are frowning.

  “What else is there to do, Cambion?” Dragan’s voice sounds tired, like I’m a petulant child harassing him.