Read Black Wings Online

Authors: Christina Henry

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Contemporary

Black Wings (28 page)

“And besides,” he continued, sipping from his cup. “Not all of the fallen wish to serve Lord Lucifer. My lord is constantly dealing with any number of minor rebellions and struggles for power. It is why his word must be followed absolutely and all traitors punished swiftly. Lord Lucifer must maintain his base of power and ensure that the majority of his subjects are loyal to him.”
“But their loyalty is based on fear, not respect.”
“To one of the fallen, it is the same thing. They respect Lord Lucifer’s power and will not violate his laws because they fear the repercussions of that power.”
I felt myself grow frustrated again with the ludicrous dictates by which I was now forced to live. And thinking of that reminded me that an unpleasant fate awaited me whenever Azazel and Lucifer realized I had smoked Antares. There had to be a way out, but I was too tired and confused to think it through. I decided to focus on the more immediate problem—my out-of-control magic.
“Let’s not worry about Lucifer’s stupid laws right now,” I said. “I need you to help me get my magic under control before I blast the entire city of Chicago off the map.”
“Yes,” Gabriel said, frowning. “It would be easier if I thought that we had seen the full extent of your powers. But it appears that you have spent many years suppressing your true nature, and now that your magic has been loosed, it is manifesting itself in unforeseen ways.
“Be that as it may, at a minimum I can help you learn to control your emotions and thereby the flow of power, if not the exact type. Your emotional state seems to increase the likelihood that a buildup of power will occur inside you and explode out with dangerous consequences.”
“Like that little nuclear blast thing. Or the starburst.”
“Yes. However, the shield defense that you used against Antares should be quite useful—”
“I thought the nuclear blast was pretty useful, myself.”
“—and if you had better control over your emotions and powers”—Gabriel ignored my comment—“you would likely be able to call up the shield at will.”
“Let’s be fair here. My emotions have been careening in every direction because every time I turn around another curveball is thrown at me.
“It’s difficult to feel in control when, in the last four days, my best friend has died; a nephilim keeps trying to eat me; my new tenant turns out to be a half angel as, I should mention, do I; my long-lost father tries to gift my virginity to his lieutenant; I discover I have a demon half brother who I
finally
manage to kill, after he attempts to murder me and everyone I know, only to find out I’ve totally broken some rule I didn’t even know existed, which means I am going to suffer horribly for the rest of my natural-born life. Oh, and I almost forgot—Lucifer’s long-lost lover decides to use me as a megaphone for her life story every time I pass out, an event that has occurred with astonishing regularity from the moment I met you. I think I deserve a little slack here.”
I was out of breath and dizzy at the end of this pronouncement. Somehow the act of speaking aloud the ordeal of the past few days made me realize just how exhausted I was.
“I’m tired,” I said, my eyes drooping.
“Perhaps now is not the best time for magical lessons,” Gabriel said, putting his cup on the end table and standing up.
I stared up at him stupidly and shook my head to try to jolt some blood back into my brain. “If not now, when? If I go to sleep, I’m just going to get woken up because there’s another crisis, and there won’t be time to teach me anything before the next unknown power manifests itself.”
“You cannot learn anything if you are so tired you can hardly keep your head up.” He put his arms under my body and lifted me easily.
I swatted at him ineffectually. It was too easy to rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, especially when he radiated heat like a furnace. He carried me down the hall and into my bedroom and placed me on the bed. The bedcovers were still rumpled and thrown back from the night before.
Gabriel tried to pull away but I grasped his sleeve. “Stay,” I mumbled.
He moved toward the chair that he had used to watch over me the night before.
“No,” I said, my eyes barely slit open. I patted the space next to me. “Stay with me.”
He shook his head. “It is too dangerous for me to be near you.”
“Just stay,” I insisted. “And take off your coat, for crying out loud. I know you’ve got wings under there, so you don’t need to hide them when we’re in the house.”
He smiled at that, and I could see indecision warring in his eyes.
“I just want you to hold me,” I whispered, my eyes fully closed now. I felt myself drifting. “Before they take me away from you forever.”
My eyelids were too heavy to open again, but I heard the soft rustling of cloth, and the thunk of his shoes on the floor. A moment later the bed shifted as he settled his weight behind me.
“Closer,” I demanded sleepily.
“Yes, my lady,” he said, and his body pressed against my back. His right arm hugged me and his face was buried in my hair. There was more rustling and then I felt something fold over my body, soft as down and as warm as the sun.
I fell asleep like that, wrapped in his wings.
 
 
When I opened my eyes the digital clock on my night-stand read 11:36 P.M. I didn’t know what time it was when I conked out—I’d stopped looking at my watch after I’d delivered my souls to the Door—but I felt rested and refreshed. And hungry.
I tried to sit up and realized that I was cocooned in Gabriel’s wings, and that I was very, very warm.
“There is no crisis,” Gabriel murmured sleepily. “You can relax.”
I turned in his arms so that I faced him. His eyes were at half-mast, still drowsy with sleep. The last four days had been hard on him, too. He’d been chasing around after me and expending nearly as much magical energy as I had. I stroked my hand down his cheek and felt soft stubble beneath my fingers.
“You need to shave,” I said. “I didn’t think angels would have to worry about hair growth.”
“I am not perfectly immortal, as Lord Azazel is,” he said, his hand coming up to close around mine. “I do age, but very slowly—so slowly that you would not notice the passing of years on me. There is a small strain of human blood in me, from the line of the nephilim.”
His fingers rubbed against mine, and our faces were so close together that I could feel the puff of his warm breath on my skin.
It was easy and natural to move closer, to let our mouths brush together, to pull away and smile, to be happy for this quiet moment together.
Then my stomach rumbled, and Gabriel burst out laughing.
I watched him in delight. He almost never smiled, and when he did it never really seemed like a happy smile. I had heard him laugh only once or twice, but it was magical to hear, a bright and shimmering thing that danced in the air.
His laughter trickled out but he still had a huge grin pasted on his face.
“Pizza,” I said, giving him a quick kiss and climbing out of bed. He shifted his wings so that I could move. “Someone around here must do late-night delivery. And you’re buying. I haven’t actually gotten any rent money from you yet.”
“Ah. That,” Gabriel said, sitting up and letting his wings stretch out. His wingspan was about twelve feet and I had to scurry to the foot of the bed to allow him room.
“ ‘Ah, that’ what?” I said, pushing my feet into my fuzzy slippers.
It had been hours since I’d thought about my clothes, but I looked down and realized I still wore the black skirt, purple button-down shirt and black blazer that I’d put on that morning to appear in my father’s court. The sharp-heeled, knee-high boots that I had worn were crumpled on the floor next to the bed, and they were caked with gore. I didn’t even want to think about cleaning the leather, so I picked them up and tossed them in the kitchen trash. I found the Cubs sweatshirt that I had thrown aside in haste that morning, pulled off the blazer and replaced it with the sweatshirt.
“The rent money.”
“Don’t even tell me that there is no rent money,” I said, panicked. “Because that’s going to be a problem. My income has not been too stable for the last few months.”
He finished stretching and folded his wings behind him again. The chilliness of the room didn’t seem to affect him. He padded around the bed in bare feet, black trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and followed me into the kitchen as I began searching through the stack of takeout menus that I had clipped to the refrigerator.
“There is no rent money ...” he began.
“What?” I shouted, turning to him.
He held his hands up. “Peace. There is no rent money, because now that Azazel has acknowledged you as his daughter he is able to give you the legacy he has been saving for the last thirty-two years.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What legacy?”
“Lord Azazel is a very wealthy man. And also a prompt one. If you check your bank balance, I am sure that you will see he has given some of the legacy to you already.”
I couldn’t let that pass without investigation. I marched to my laptop, booted up and logged on to my Internet banking website. When I saw the figures for my checking and savings accounts, all the blood rushed out of my face.
“I’ve never seen that much money in one place in my whole life,” I said. “Well, maybe in news items about government spending.”
“And I am certain that it is only part of what you will receive. There are bound to be investments in various forms, scattered here and there. Lord Azazel will no doubt apprise you of these soon.” He smiled at my look of shock.
My heart did a little jig. No more worries, no more scraping to get by. Then I sobered, remembering what else had happened that day.
“I don’t think he’ll have to apprise me of anything,” I said, “seeing as I’m going to be given to Focalor.”
The smile faded from Gabriel’s face. “Yes. Of course. I had forgotten.”
“Me, too,” I said. My appetite was suddenly gone. At this rate I’d lose the extra fifteen pounds I was carrying in no time. It’s the My Daddy Was a Fallen Angel diet!
Antares. I couldn’t believe that I had ever thought I wanted a brother when I was kid. My only sibling had been a giant pain in the behind from the moment he kicked me down the front porch stairs until I snuffed his life out.
My stomach rumbled. Okay, maybe my appetite wasn’t completely gone.
“Let’s have pizza.” I thought that there was a strong possibility that this could be my last good meal on Earth. “And wings. And maybe cheesecake. I’m buying.”
19
AS WE ATE, GABRIEL AND I DISCUSSED MY LAST VISION of Evangeline, the one that I’d had while at Azazel’s court. Beezle smelled pizza and fluttered in from outside, wordlessly thrusting an extra plate at me to fill for him. Gabriel still seemed astounded by what I had learned.
“I cannot believe the Archangel would take Lucifer’s children as his own,” Gabriel said wonderingly. “How did he manage it? He could not pass them off as his own blood, even if they were infused with his grace. Mating with a mortal woman would have resulted in his expulsion from paradise.”
“He did it somehow.” I shrugged. “Anyway, the important thing here is that Evangeline has filled in a lot of holes for us.”
“Such as?” Beezle said through a mouthful of cheese and dough.
I put down my slice of pizza to tick off points on my fingers. “Number one, I am definitely from Evangeline’s bloodline. You said yourself, Beezle, that Lucifer’s power was that of collecting souls. That’s what I do. That’s what every Agent does.”
Beezle’s eyes widened. “And the Morningstar’s power was disguised when Michael infused the children with his grace. How could I have been so stupid?”
“I do not believe that anyone could have predicted this. We have long suspected that Evangeline and the children were lost or killed, and that Agents were created by the light for the purpose of replacing Lord Lucifer,” Gabriel said.
“Agents probably were created for that reason,” I said. “But we weren’t created out of thin air. We came from Lucifer’s line. Anyway, point number two. There was one survivor of Evangeline’s scorched-earth policy, and that being is probably the one controlling Ramuell’s puppet strings.”
“That’s an awfully big leap,” Beezle said. “How do you come to that conclusion?”
“Because I seem to be targeted specifically. Because Evangeline heard an angel speaking of her death and the deaths of her children as a way to destroy Lucifer. Because if Ramuell’s puppet master wanted to kill Lucifer, what better way than to destroy the last direct descendant of Evangeline?”
“And how do you know you’re her last direct descendant?” Beezle asked.
“She’s spending an awful lot of time sending me visions,” I said. “You think she’d bother if I was just some yahoo? Obviously she thinks I need this information now. Evangeline wanted me to see her escaped captor, so that I will recognize Ramuell’s master when I see her.”

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