Sometime during the exchange, Horns had moved beyond her periphery. Now he managed to sneak up behind her and rake his claws against her already bleeding shoulder. As she turned, he turned with her, once again raking her with those claws.
The pain oh, the pain. No longer ignorable.
Stars winked in her line of vision. She heard laughter behind her, and knew Horns was there, ready to claw her again. She darted forward, out of the way, and tripped.
Horsey caught her by the forearms, preventing her from falling. He let her goonly to punch her in the face. More pain, more stars, but when he lifted his hand for a second blow, she was ready. She jerked the chair up and nailed him under the jaw, then spun so that he broke his knuckles on the seat of the chair rather than her cheekbone. His howl rent the air.
Footsteps behind her. She kicked backward, connecting with Horns. Before her leg landed, she spun and kicked out with the other, scissoring her ankles to double tap his gut. When he collapsed, wheezing for air, she flipped the chair upside down and finished him off, slamming the metal rim into his trachea.
Black blood pooled and bubbled around him, frothing and sizzling as it seared the tiled floor. Steam rose, curling through the air.
One minute to go.
Maximum damage, she thought.
Horsey called her a very rude name, his entire body shaking with his wrathful intent. He closed the distance with stomping steps and lashed out with those clublike arms. No claws, just fists. Playtime was over, she supposed. She blocked, ducked and bowed her back to ensure those meaty hammers only ever swiped the chair. All the while she punched at him with the dented metal, landing multiple blows.
Why did you come for me? she demanded. Why?
A flash of bloodstained fangs. Just for the fun. Why else?
Always she asked, and always she received the same reply, no matter that each of her opponents was different. The creatures came once, only once, and after raining havoc, creating chaos, they disappeared forevermore. If they survived.
Shed cried after her first killand her second and her thirddespite the fact that the creatures had only ever wanted to hurt her. There was just something so terrible about taking a life, no matter the reason for doing so. Hearing the last breath rattle watching the light dim in someones eyes and knowing you were responsible She always thought of her parents. Somewhere along the way, her heart had hardened into a block of stone and shed stopped crying.
The backup guards finally arrived, three hard bodies slamming into her from behind and knocking her to the ground. When she crashed, she crashed hard, cracking her already injured cheek on the tile. She experienced a sharp lance of pain as the taste of old pennies filled her mouth, coated her tongue. More of those too-bright stars winked through her vision, corrosive things that grew grew blinding her.
That blindness panicked her, reminding her of that terrible, fateful morning so long ago. Let me go! I mean it!
Inflexible knees dug into her bleeding shoulders, her back and her legs, and rough fingers pressed all the way to bone. Be still.
I said let me go!
Horsey must have fled because the scent of rot was suddenly replaced by the scent of bacon and aftershave, warm breath caressing her cheek. She didnt allow herself to cringe, didnt allow herself to reveal her abhorrence for the doctor now looming over her.
Thats enough out of you, Annabelle, Fitzpervert said in a chiding tone.
Never enough, she replied, forcing herself to calm on her own. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The more emotion she displayed, the more sedative he would have to use.
Tsk, tsk. You should have played nice. I could have helped you. Sleep now, he crooned.
Dont you dare Her jaw went slack a second after the expected pinch in her neck. In a blink of time, there was white lightning in her vein, spreading just as swiftly as the stars.
Though she despised this feeling of helplessness and knew Fitzpervert would be paying her a visit later, though she fought with every bit of her remaining strength, Annabelle slipped into the waiting darkness.
CHAPTER TWO
LOOK AT ME, ZACHAREL! Look how high Im flying.
Youre doing so well, Hadrenial. Im proud of you.
Think I can flip without falling to the ground?
Of course you can. You can do anything.
A laugh as sweet as tolling bells, echoing through the sky. But Ive already fallen three times.
Which means you now know what not to do.
Sir? Your Great and Mighty Highness? Are you listening to me?
The masculine voice drew Zacharel from the past and the only bright light in an otherwise dark life, jerking him straight into the present. He glanced at Thane, the self-appointed second in command of his angelic army. A promotion he had not disputed, despite the warriors attitude. The fact was, Thane was the best of the lotwhich wasnt actually saying much.
Every angel in his army had pushed the Deity, their king, past the limit of his patience. Each had broken so many rules, skirted so many laws, it was a miracle they still had their wings and an even greater miracle that Zacharel had tolerated the warriors as long as he had.
He cleared his throat. Im listening, yes. Now.
My humblest apologies if I bored you before was Thanes flippant reply.
Accepted.
A crack of the angels jaw as he realized Zacharel had taken no insult. I asked if you were ready for us to attack.
Not yet.
Thane hovered beside him, the great length of their wings outstretched but not touching. Neither of them liked to be touched. Of course, Thane always made allowances for the females he bedded, but Zacharel made no such exceptions for anyone.
Im eager to fight, Majesty. We all are.
Ive told you before not to call me by that title. As for your request, you will wait as ordered. All of you. To disobey was to be punisheda concept Zacharel himself was now intimately acquainted with.
It had begun a few short months ago, when he was summoned to the Deitys temple, that sacred sanctuary so few angels were privileged to visit. During that unprecedented encounter, snowflakes had begun to fall from the feathers of Zacharels wings, a constant storm and a sign of his Deitys cold displeasure. And the Deitys words, though softly spoken, had been just as biting as the snowfall.
Apparently, Zacharels severe detachment from emotion had caused him to ignore collateral damage during his battles with demons. On multiple occasions, the Deity had charged, Zacharel had chosen to slay his enemy at the expense of innocent human life. Of course, such behavior was unacceptable.
Hed apologized, even though he wasnt sorry for his actions, only that he had angered the one being with the power to destroy him. In truth, he did not understand the appealor usefulnessof the humans. They were weak and frail, claiming all they did was for love.
Love. Zacharel sneered. As if mere mortals knew anything about unselfish, life-giving love. Not even Zacharel knew. Hadrenial hadbut Zacharel wasnt thinking about him anymore.
His apology meant nothing, his Deity had told him. Actually, less than nothing, for his Deity could see into the dark mire of his chest, where his heart should beat with emotionbut didnt.
I should take your wings and immortality and banish you to the earth, where you will not be able to see the demons living among us. If you cannot see them, you cannot fight them as you are used to doing. If you cannot fight them, you cannot kill the humans around them. Is that what you want, Zacharel? To live among the fallen and mourn the life you once had?
No, he wanted nothing of the sort. Zacharel lived for killing demons. If he could not see and fight them, he was better off dead. Again hed voiced his contrition.
You have apologized to the Heavenly High Council for this very crime many times in the past, Zacharel, yet you have never changed your ways. Even still, my trusted advisors have long recommended leniency. After everything youve suffered, they hoped that in time you would find your path. But time and again youve failed to do as the Council has asked, and no longer can they turn a blind eye to your transgressions. Now I must intervene, for I, too, am answerable to a higher powerand your deeds reflect poorly on me.
In that moment Zacharel had known there would be no talking his way out of his sentence. And hed been right.
Words are so easily spoken, as youve proven, the Deity had continued, but so rarely are they backed up with action. Now you will carry the physical expression of my unhappiness, so that you never forget this day.
As you wish, hed replied.
But, Zacharel do not doubt that worse awaits you should you disobey me again.
Hed thanked his Deity for the chance to do better and he had meant ituntil his very next battle. He had hurt and killed multiple humans without thought or mercy, because they had hurt and killed Ivar, one of the Deitys Elite Seven. A warrior of unimaginable strength and ability.
The fact that Zacharels actions had been in the name of vengeance hadnt matteredhad actually harmed his cause. The Most High was to decide how to handle such a situation, and as He was the higher power Zacharels Deity answered to, His word was law. Zacharel should have displayed patience.
The following day, the Deity had again summoned him.
Hed hoped that, despite what hed done, he would be chosen as the next Elite, but instead he learned he had earned another punishment. Worse, he discovered, was exactly that.
For one year, Zacharel would lead an army of angels just like him. The ones no one else wanted under their command. The rebellious ones. The tortured ones. His assignment: to teach them the respect that he himself had yet to demonstratefor the Deity, for the sanctity of human life. And to ensure that he took his responsibility seriously, he alone would bear the consequences of his warriors actions.
If any of his angels killed a human, he would suffer a whipping.
Hed already suffered eight.
At the end of the year, if Zacharels good deeds outweighed the bad, he and all of his angels would be allowed to stay in the heavens. If the bad outweighed the good, he and all of his angels would lose their wings and their place in the sky.
Clearly, Zacharel had mused, the Deity was cleaning house. This way, he could rid the heavens of every thorn in his side in one fell swoop, and none on his Council could call him cruel or unfair, for hed given them a years worth of chances to redeem themselves.
So here Zacharel and his army were, tasked with handling chores far beneath their skill level. For the most part, that meant finding a way to free demon-possessed humans, aiding those who were immorally influenced and participating in the occasional insignificant battle.
Tonight marked his armys nineteenth assignmentthough only their third round of combatand each one had ended worse than the last. No matter what he threatened, the angels seemed to enjoy disregarding his orders. They flipped him off. They cussed at him. They laughed in his face.
He did not understand them. This year was their last chance, too. They had just as much to lose. Shouldnt they seek his favor?
Now? Thane asked eagerly, his voice more smoke than substance. Once upon a time, his throat had been slit and slit and slit until scars had become a permanent necklace.
Not yet. I mean it.
If you fail to sound the battle cry soon
They would act anyway.
Does no one care that they will suffer my wrath? he groused. He peered down at the Moffat County Institution for the Criminally Insane, which was hidden in the mountains of Colorado. The building was tall and wide, with a barbed, electric fence, and armed guards walking both the parapet and grounds. Halogens shone bright light into every corner, chasing away the shadows.
What the guards couldnt see, no matter how intense their lighting, were the demon minions crawling all over the walls, desperate to slink inside.
But like the guards, the demons could not see the threat surrounding them. The twenty soldiers under Zacharels command remained hidden. Their wings, usually white threaded with gold, were now a star-pricked onyx, a mirror of the heavens. The effortless change was made with only a single mental command. More than that, their angelic robes were now shirts and pants fitted to their muscular bodies, black and combat ready.
Why would demons choose to overtake this place? Zacharel asked. And they had attempted to do so for years, apparently. Other armies had been sent, but none had made any real progress. As soon as one set of minions was taken care of, a new crop would arrive.
There were only two reasons no other army had thought to find out why. One, they had not cared to aid the humans inside the building. Or two, their job had ended with the battle. Either way, Zacharel would not make the same mistake. He couldnt.
Golden hair curling innocently around a face somehow more devilish than saintly, Thane cast a wicked sapphire gaze his way. The contrast between innocent and carnal could be mesmerizing, or so Zacharel had heard. Human and immortal females alike threw themselves at Thanewho made no secret of his sexual desires when he revealed himself to those who were not supposed to know he was there. Especially since his desires skirted the edge of dangerous of acceptable.
Most angels belonging to their Deity, whether they were of the warrior class or among the joy-bringers, were as immune to the passions of the flesh as Zacharel. But then, most had not been captured by a horde of demons, trapped and tortured for weeks, as Thane had been.