The Language of Angels (Closed for Vail_Indigo)

The Blue Mage

He watched the arena with narrowed eyes, seeking a universal weakness in the angel before him. The private viewing area he sat in was high enough above the ring to give a good overall view with multiple flat-screens showing different views of the scene below.

The large blue cats-eye stone on his right ring finger blinked as he shifted in his seat before sighing in anger. The angel below was not a fighter- she barely seemed able to fly. He wanted a fighter, an angel that would scatter blood across the arena floor like something out of the Old Testament. He stood and turned his back on the arena.

“Put the boar in next,” he said to his assistant who relayed the order into a small phone. “Have him fight that modified girl we picked up. The one with the strange voices.”

His footfalls were silent on the tiled floor as he strode away, his assistant falling into step beside him. She brought interesting news indeed.

Sophia

I slipped my hand into Aella’s as we entered the boar’s room. I could tell from the scent of blood in the hall it would be bad. Sometimes being right is overrated.

Apparently the boar alpha wasn’t quite as frail as she seemed, if she was well enough to pick a fight. I lifted Aella’s hand to my lips and pressed a gentle kiss against her knuckles while looking in to her eyes with a small smile. I then turned to the boar, smile still in place though I knew my eyes cooled. “Slumming it? Oh no, Veronica Verte, boar alpha. Your eyes must be wounded indeed if you cannot see the beauty before you. My Laura is a beauty indeed, but that is not what we are here for this eve. And you are hardly one to complain of another’s appearance. You look like a pig half slaughtered.”

I wanted to say she looked like she’d been dragged through a meat tenderizer backwards but managed to refrain from it. My remark still drew a growling snort from two of her bodyguards and I shot a withering glare at both of them. Veronica raised a bruised hand and the two were silent, though they glared back at me. In my mind’s eye, I saw Aella lying there, wounded and torn apart by the magic that linked us and suppressed a shudder.

“As that may be, angel,” she said, voice rough as if her throat were raw. “But keep your seer on a leash. My people are on edge enough as it is, no sense in making things worse.”

“She dictates her actions, not I,” was my response. “There is no alpha between equals.”

“When one is immortal, there is never equality,” Veronica said with a sigh. “My mother was unlucky enough to fall in love with one of your kind. He got her pregnant, Mate Linked but not Life linked her and let her die a horrible death when I was seven. I had to watch her die and then he just left, flew away like it was nothing to him. So forgive me for not believing a word of that.”

“Your issues with angels are not the problem here tonight,” I said acidly. “I have never done that to anyone and would never Mate Link without the Life Link. Do you want to tell us about your missing mate or should we just leave?”

“I’m fine with leaving,” Aella said, hand still clasped in mine. I wanted to lean against the warmth of her to confirm she was standing beside me, strong and fierce but couldn’t. The boars would see it as seeking strength and I could not afford to appear weak. If I was weak, then I could not help. If I could not help, they would not talk to me at all.

“Don’t leave,” Veronica hissed as a bruise blossomed across her cheek. A thin line appeared on her skin before splitting open to drip blood down her jawbone. Another line appeared below it, as if someone had carved a “T” into her flesh from the inside. She hissed at the sudden pain but her gaze was steady upon us. “Louis, my mate, is in a fight even now. Some of your kind can trace Links. Can you?”

I shook my head. “That is not one of my talents. I am not a tracker or tracer, though at times like now I wish that I was.”

One of her lieutenants snapped, “Then what use are you?”

“You called me,” I reminded them. “Let’s try something a smidge more productive. When did your Louis go missing? Did you notice anything strange? Had he had contact with any strangers before disappearing?”

The abrupt change in topic seemed to make the boars pause, which was my intent. The rather butch lieutenant growled, “Louis doesn’t live us, none of the males do. But they check in on the dark of every moon, a week ago. He should have been here and he wasn’t. The link between them had been acting strange for a few days before the dark moon but Veronica couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong.”

“It felt like it was being interrupted off and on. Like Louis was trying to do something without me knowing and then the majority of it shut off completely on the dark of the moon,” Veronica added around pain noises. Her hands clenched her stomach in obvious pain. “We’d fought on the last full moon, fought over trying for children. I… I said I wasn’t ready yet and we argued before he left. I thought it was because he was angry with me. But the wounds started appearing three days ago. They’re the only way I know he’s alive.”

She fell into deep tears, her shoulders heaving though it obviously hurt her to move so much. “I have no idea how long he’s been gone and I can’t contact him mind to mind. I don’t know what to do.”

“This is over,” said the brutish female who had spoken before. “I want our doctor to sedate her so she can try to heal, at least a little bit. We’ll call you if she remembers anything else.”

I pulled Aella into the hallway and an old man bearing a traditional black doctor’s bag slipped in behind us. My hand still held hers like a life line, a link to something other than the pain in the room behind us. I led the way down the stairs, free hand on the banister though I let go to avoid the badly taxidermy snake at the bottom. We let ourselves out of the mismatched house and she led me to the car, my mind spinning with what I had seen.

I leaned against the car, my free hand wrapped around my waist. I looked at her with troubled eyes and spoke. “That is part of what it means to share life, heart and soul with another in my world. They share half of the damage their partner takes. With the Life Link, there is damage sharing and death is shared within hours of each other, just enough time for vengeance but nothing more. But without the Life Link, the mortal partner can die before the immortal one. How could I let my beloved die without following her into the dark if I loved her enough to link my soul to hers in the first place?”

I ran my hand through her hair as I pulled her close to me, revealing in the warmth of her body. “I don’t know why this affecting me so much. I’ve seen angels hurt through their Mate Links before, though not that bad. I keep seeing you there in that bed. Which is silly- you don’t seem like the type to ever stay home away from a fight or stay down no matter what the damage.”

Gypsy in the ring, Closure

His skin began to glow with a pearly luminescence from within, the sheer light of power filtered through his blue spots like lights at a rave. His glow brought an intensity to his movements as he began to push power into the angel with every thrust. Something about the little slip of a woman made him feel something, even though she was an angel.

Gypsy cried out as he held her pinned against his body, taking from her but giving something back as well. Power, hot and caressing rushed through her body from where he touched her, held her, penetrated her. Something was building in her loins, something the nineteen year old angel had never felt before. She’d had orgasms with her boyfriend and his being an angel had brought her own angelic powers out. But even that was a gentle wave compared to the tsunami she felt building.

The arena darkened as Octavius called his powers out and the audience gave an “ooh” of appreciation as the angel in his arms began to glow in response. Her angelic beauty and his demonic glory combined to create something potent and unforgettable. The demon had never glowed before in the arena and this was the angel’s first time through.

Gypsy was nearly frantic in his arms, unsure of what was happening, only knowing that if it stopped she would surely go mad. “Please… oh please….”

Octavius pulled out of her with a wry smile on his lips. “Please what? You must be specific on what you want, angel.”

A tentacle wrapped around her breast and squeezed sharply, making her gasp out. She fought to raise her eyes to his again, noticing the wry grin and realizing that under the heavy brows and blue-spotted skin, he was appealing. “Please, don’t stop,” she begged in a harsh whisper. “I… oh please don’t stop.”

“Very good,” he said, that wry smile still on his lips as he slid her back down his length, pushing further into her than he had into any other female that had been brought into the ring. The accommodating abilities of the angel were greater than those of other species and he used every inch to its fullest advantage. As he slowly brought her back down, he sent an undulating motion through his entire body. She gave a hoarse squeal as the undulation made him writhe inside of her as she thrashed in his arms. Thrashed not to get away but because she simply could not hold still.

He gave her a heartbeat to get used to him again before he began thrusting, strong and deep within the angel. His tentacle around her breast squeezed sharply in a matching rhythm and he brought her lips to his again. Every movement, every motion was captured by the cameras and projected onto the huge jumbotron but neither “combatants” noticed anymore.

She moaned against his lips, tongue dancing with his as she ground her body against him. His firm grip on her shifted to give her the freedom of movement she seemed to need to slam herself upon him. Gypsy was impaled by the demon and beyond any point she had ever known as her power glow rivaled his own. Even her wings were light with an ebony fire that scorched the sand beneath them but did no harm to Octavius or herself.

“Oh, God,” she cried against his lips as he thrust, slamming into her cervix like a battering ram. Another tentacle curled around her unmarked breast and began to squeeze it as well. The suction cups on the bottom pulled at the delicate flesh of her areola and nipples while the moist limbs squeezed her tightly. Her breasts were nearly as red as her cheeks and lips.

The demon slammed between her neither lips and felt a rolling shudder shake through the angel and increased his speed again, lips pressed tight against hers. Between one stroke and the next the glow from her grew too bright for him to see through she came.

Gypsy felt herself shatter in his arms, throwing her head back to scream her pleasure. Mindless of any watching, beyond caring that she had a boyfriend, she clung to him as she felt the orgasm rock her very soul. Tears lined the angels face as she spasmed in his arms, moaning and gasping.

Octavius slowed to let the angel catch her breath before tilting her chin up. “You’re going to cum again and when you do, you are going to scream my name, Octavius.”

She managed a nod before he slammed into her again. She was more open now and he rolled himself around inside of her as he thrust, the prehensile penis stroking inside as he did so. He kept her face tilted to his with one tentacle, held her breasts with two others and put the fourth one to work at last.

Coated with the slice moisture of his body, he slid it down her back, around the curve of her ass as he lifted her up, hands encircling her waist. Her eyes widened as she realized what was going to happen but Gypsy voiced no word of protest. She was beyond such things.

The tentacle caressed the outside of her ass as he thrust deep within her and pulled out almost completely. She cried out in protest over the sudden emptiness and then gave a moaning scream as the tentacle began to push within her. The limb started about finger thickness but quickly grew larger as more squirmed its way in. The blue spots on the demon began to shine brighter, blue fire licking at the skin of the angel where it could, mixing with her own golden shine.

The unfamiliar sensation made the angel writhe in the demon’s arms but he gave her no quarter. Though not as thick as his own penis, by the time the tentacle stopped it was as large around as common soda can. The tentacle began to push against the thin wall that separated it from her vagina as Octavius began to push himself back inside. The dual sensation made her scream.

“Octavius,” she howled as he lifted her up nearly clear of himself and then slammed her down, both holes filling at the same time. He continued to piston into her as she screamed and cried his name when she could manage it between gasping for breath.

She moaned as he thickened suddenly and increased his speed, pushing her over the edge again. Her scream was heard even in the cages below as she came around him, triggering his own release. He came within her and she felt the hot rush of fluid against her cervix, pushing her into a second orgasm on top of the first.

Gypsy’s voice gave out before her hips stopped thrashing against the demon. Both were covered in a sheen of sweat and the viscous clear fluid that Octavius’ skin produced. His chest heaved like a bellows as he pulled out of the angel and set her on the ground to kneel next to him. She laid her cheek against his thigh, a hand right below it as she struggled to catch her breath.

The audience seemed to awaken suddenly and they gave a raucous cheer of approval. Gypsy looked up them, eyes wide as her sense of reality returned. She looked up at the black eyes of the demon, now glowing with a fire that was identical to the one that had lit her feathery wings just moments before.

“No words, Gypsy,” he said, laying a gentle finger against her lips before she could speak. In her mind, his voice was a calming caress. If we get out of here and you want to find me, be it for vengeance or something better, I’ll be at UCSD.[\i]

Before he could add further, handlers burst into the ring from both sides, all of them armed with shocking long poles or noose-ended poles. Gypsy screamed in shocked pain as the collar around her neck reactivated, locking down her powers and reversing her angelic transformation in an agenizing moment.

Octavius reached for her but was met with a shock through his own collar and more from the shock pole wielding handlers. He hissed at them as he sank to his knees, powerless against the runed power of the collar.

Gypsy’s eyes ran as pain ricochet through her body before leaving her gasping on the arena floor. Sand clung to her moist skin as she was picked up by Jazeel. As he carried her from the ring as if she were a small, albeit dirty, child, Gypsy looked back.

Octavius’ own transformation was being reversed by the collar, though much more slowly. She saw a shock of ebony hair before Jazeel carried her out of the arena. The shocks of the evening and the pain of collar reactivating caught up with the angel and the world grew black as she fainted.

Watching the bruises for on her, I couldn’t help but try and visualize the fight. What would it be like to fight a rampaging were-boar? How would you do it? The strikes seemed interesting, precise, but probing. Familiar.

But I could have been projecting. If Louis was taking that much damage, and it was Tempest dishing it out, she was fine. Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m ‘seeing’ things or seeing things. All I knew is that if she wasn’t dealing out the hurt, then sooner or later she’d be taking it. I didn’t have the ‘Life Link’ with her, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the pain she’d feel.

I didn’t like it.

Not at all.

I hid in my Angel’s arms.

“My sisters and I, we know each other on a level I can’t explain. In many ways, I can feel what they feel. We compartmentalize it, put it in a box in our minds and try not to think about it too much. Melis, she even bruises sometimes. Its psychosomatic, to be sure, but that doesn’t make it feel any better.”

I let my gaze wander over her skin, let my fingertip trace lines on her neck, face. Since learning what she was, the noise I saw the first day hadn’t vanished so much as crystalized. And I was starting to see patterns on her skin. Patterns that seemed to be forming words I couldn’t read. I didn’t know what they were, or if Sophia would even know what I was seeing. But they were beautiful, and I loved to follow their lines. More mysteries. More reasons to never look away.

My eyes met hers, and somewhere in my brain, words formed.

“You and I don’t live safe. Its not who we are or the world we live in. Is there any doubt that I would step between you and a bullet? That a sword would have to go through me before it could get to you?”

I cupped her cheek with on hand.

“Maybe there’s no magic involved, but do you doubt for a moment that anything you go through, I go through with you?”

Before I could say anything else, I was kissing her. Like there was anything else to say.

The Blue Mage's assistant


The assistant escorted the Mage into his office and then returned to the private box. She lifted a hand toward the arena where the angel and demon were "fighting" and released a brief burst of magic. It changed the rape into a consensual fuck, the best she could do for the woman in the ring.

A shiver went down her spine and she gave a snarling grin upward. The fates of the combatants had changed with her actions and she didn't care. Let the "Kindly Ones" fix it. They'd caused her enough grief in the past. It wasn't the right time to set things in motion to fix the problem here.

In the arena below the blood and other fluids were cleaned and the sand smoothed to make way for the next battle. The assistant spoke into a microphone.

"Bring out the werebore and the siren-voiced female."

Neither of them were of any concern to the assistant and she walked away from the box without glancing back. Their deaths didn't matter to her, only the overall solution.

Back in her office, a trio of emails set that solution into motion.

Sophia

Distress calls magic sometimes, at least with me and the other Earth Angels I’d been around for extended periods of time. A fierce desire to protect the whirlwind in my arms swept through me as we kissed, bringing silvery light to the surface of my skin. It swirled in patterns, words forming in the language of my creator God before being lost in the general glow again.

The sound of a jetliner passing overhead was enough to break me out of the kiss, out of the moment. We were still standing in the driveway of the boar sounder and calling power like this was not only highly conspicuous, I’d been raised to believe it was rude too. I sighed and leaned my forehead against Aella’s as I tightened my hold on my power. The glow faded immediately, lingering a touch longer where our skin met before going out altogether.

“I want to continue this,” I whispered, “but here is not the place. Think you’re up for driving back west? There’s a beautiful cliff by the ocean where we can be alone and….”

She cut me off with a far too brief kiss. “Right thinking but you’re right, wrong location. A beach sounds wonderful, lead the way.”

I lead the way to the car and slid into the passenger seat. I gave her directions to the beach I wanted, one with a high seaside cliff on private property. I knew the owner wouldn’t mind us being there, he was out of the country. We drove in a warm silence, my hand on hers as she shift from gear to gear like race car driver, even up the twisting drive.

She took the dirt road like a rally pro to the cliff looking over the Pacific Ocean. A rocky trail led down to the water’s edge where a series of secluded tide pools that glimmered like opals in the moonlight. I tossed my jacket onto the seat as I stepped out and walked to the cliff’s edge.

My wings unfurled gracefully, the moonlight making the garnet in them shine like fresh blood. Silver lines marked my skin in a language older than any that man currently knew. I took a deep breath and turned to her. To my partner, to the woman I would make my own if she would have me in return. I held out my hand to her, beckoning.

She had slid from the car to watch me manifest my wings, the wind off the cliff ruffling her hair. In the moonlight the black and red streaks were reminiscent of my wings, something I just realized. Aella moved like a liquid shadow across the rocky ground between us. Her hand slid into mine and the gleaming words on my skin grew brighter.

I shifted my palm against hers so our fingers laced together. The silver gleam concentrated around our joined hands as I released my magic and allowed it to spread as it would. Using the handhold, I pulled her against me and cupped her face in my free hand, fingers gliding over her satin-smooth skin. My fingers curled under her chin and tipped her face up so I could kiss her lips. The kiss was deep and rich, like the finest chocolate melting on my tongue.

I pulled back from her to whisper against her lips words that I wasn’t even aware I knew. “Brought together by fate, I would join with you in love, life and ever after. Soul to soul and side to side, my heart to beat with yours evermore. I offer myself to you, Aella, offer all that I am and all I could ever be, the whole of my heart, my soul and my Life to form a sacred Link between us.”

My magic beat against my skin where it touched hers, seeking and searching for a new home as I spoke the words that would tie us together. If she wanted to accept my offering, she would speak the words the magic provoked in her. If she did not accept my offer, the magic between us would grow dark and never rise again. I offered the Life link to her, knowing I wouldn’t want to live without her if she died of natural causes and that I would live long enough to have my vengeance if she was taken from me.

Who am I to say no to the aesthetic sense of an Angel?

I am told that every little girl dreams of her wedding day. At least, in the movies and TV. I didn’t know many little girls growing up, so I’ll have to take their word on it.
That was never for us, though. We knew early on that these kinds of normal things just weren’t going to happen in the lives we were created to leave. And that was before we even began to figure likely mortality rates into the equation.
Sure, we seem to have beat the odds on that, but the day is still young.

The drive to the beach was a furious one, but the car took it like the champ it is. While I have no doubt that, being who we are, we’d escape any accident fine, its still the kind of thing that ruins the moment. Her hand on mine, urging me fast, it felt like, though I did notice a squirm of ‘I really do not think we can make that turn at this speed’ once or twice.

My mind was racing. My sisters were going to have fits that they weren’t here. The Council was going to go stark raving mad. And my life had suddenly turned into something much, much more than it was ever supposed to be.

And all of that just made it all the more wonderful.

I’ll be mushy and all if I want. Bite me.

Her wings appeared, and left me stunned for a moment, as they always do, and she glowed in the night, leaving the moon far behind. There, on the cliff’s edge, I thought back (hours? a handful of days?) to when I gave myself to her, when I threw myself off the tower with the absolute certainty that she would catch me.

She whispered her words to me, and I felt the magic gliding along me and caressing my skin.

It was...perfect.

“It is no longer enough. The meaning I have been given is no longer enough. Surviving is no longer enough. The joy of what I am is no longer enough. You are here. You came to me, found me, blessed me. I have been bound to you since that moment, and always will be. My Angel, I am yours, and I give you all that is mine, to forge the chain between us, the Link between our lives. Nothing else will ever be enough.”

And I let go of everything that was me, and let it become us.

Tempest

It became clear, very quickly, that the were-boar was very good at charging, running in straight lines. It was also brutal and vicious.

None of this mattered much to Tempest. She amused herself for a few minutes by dodging to beast at the last second, letting it strike the wall behind her. It was either very dumb, or blind with fear and rage.

Tempest didn’t know how to fight a were-boar.

Not specifically.

But some things are universal.

Nothing likes being kicked good and hard in the knee.

Weres less than most. A design flaw, the basic structure of the knee is simply not capable of supporting a creature that much more massive than intended.
It took some time, some beatings about the poor creature’s head and ribs before an opening appeared.

DOWN!
Left kneee, strike, NOW!

Tempest fell to a crouch and struck the boar’s left rear knee twice with a rapid kick.
If the bones shattered, they couldn’t be heard over the howl of pain.

Tempest sprung back a few meters, but the creature kept coming. She was more than a little impressed, and even on three legs, it was a powerful force.

But it didn’t take long before the other rear leg was rendered useless as well.

All the thing could do now was lay on the floor and breath.

Tempest sat cross-legged a foot away from its snout, contemplating it.

After several moments, the announcer spoke over the PA system.

“Challenger Tempest! This is a fight to the death, yours or his!”

She rose and turned to walk back to the holding area.

“Yeah, you have fun with that,” she said simply, without looking back.

A voice boomed out, not the announcers.

“Walking away will not save him.”

Two sharp reports. A death rattle for the boar.

“No. it just gives me one more reason to kill you when all this is over.”

Sophia

Joining, merging, two becoming one, all of that flashed through both of us as I released my magic over the both of us. I had been told that there was no controlling the magic of the Mate Link and I didn’t even try. I felt my powers rippling as they divided, some flowing into her, some draining away to support the Link.

Objectively, I knew we shined like a disco-ball on that cliff, light dancing back and forth between us, strands of silver, blue and crimson flowed between our bodies. The magic of angels, my personal magic and her powers showed in those colors. My eyes widened as gold flared between us, twining around our left hands and up our arms. The gold magic sunk into the skin and branded it, leaving a golden mark behind. The marks hummed with a sensuous power, glittering to my angel’s eyes.

I’d drawn back to study the matched marks on our arms, head tilted to the side as I looked at them, a slight frown furrowing my brow. I looked back up into those amazing eyes and whispered, “I’ve never seen marks between Linked partners before. None of the Terran angels I know can call gold power.”

A trickle of fear ran through me. Gold was the power called by angels of Heaven, the Holy Host. While I could claim one for a father and another as a grandmother, I was Earth born and the gold should have been impossible. It certainly should not have colored our skin, glowing and pulsing with the beat of the magic that had slowed its dance between us. I shoved the thoughts aside, they didn’t matter for now. Only she mattered.

I pulled my beloved into a tighter embrace, lips against hers under the stars, on the shore of the great sea.

The next morning...

Somehow we’d made it back to the hotel, though I honestly don’t remember driving or flying back. I awoke in a tangle of blankets, arms and wings with a smile. I shifted, taking the weight off of my right wing and flexed it. We lay facing each other, me with an arm beneath her and her with a hand curled in my hair. I studied the mark on my left arm, currently draped across her waist.

Without power running through the two of us, the mark looked like a gold-infused tattoo though I’d never seen one with such graceful lines. I blinked and let my eyes refocus from normal vision to one that could see through the veil and was not surprised to see a faint glitter in the marking as well. We would both have to keep them covered when working, I mused, lest we be seen. They shined like beacons, at least right now.

On that thought’s heels came a sense of wonder of the matching marks because I hadn’t seen their like before. Not that I paid that much attention to what the higher powered Earth Angels or Heavenly Angels did when mated but I would have noticed something like this before if I’d seen it. I looked up into her sleeping face and felt a gentle smile curve my lips. She looked younger as she slept, the muscles of her face relaxed with a faint grin curving her lips.

Before I could reach out to touch her, to slide my fingers across her cheek, the crashing of tolling bells filled the hotel room. I moaned and looked over at the full length mirror, a frown burrowing between my eyes as I saw the gold-shot clouds filling it. I flung a hand out to keep it covered as I rolled out of the bed with a heavy sigh. The sound of the bells had awoken my Mate and not in the way I had originally planned on.

Aella looked up at me as I called my ceremonial garb, the only clothing I can summon at a whim. The solid black gown wrapped around my neck halter style to fall around me in formal pleats. The gold on my left hand and arm stood out in sharp relief against the ebony gown. Aella held up her own hand to study it in the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

“I have to get this,” I said ruefully. “That’s Michael calling and ignoring it would be… bad.”

“Go ahead,” she said with a stretch that made me want to say “fuck the mirror, I’m going back to bed.” Instead I blew her a kiss, tossed her a t-shirt and went to answer the mirror. She shrugged it on as I cleared the mirror but didn’t move from the bed.

“That took long enough, Childe,” snarled God’s General. Michael looked at me, his blue eyes flashing in a mirror of my own.

“Well, you did wake me up,” I verbally parried. “I figured getting dressed first would be better than greeting you nude. What’s up?”

Apparently my lack of formality was enough to make him actually look at me instead of just barking. I could see on his face when he saw the mark on me and when his eyes found Aella on the bed and the mark on her. Lightning flashed across those eyes as he returned his gaze to me. “You’ve mated, formed a life-bond with one of the Children of Israel? Worse, a power cross-link between a mere mortal and one destined to join the Host? What were you thinking mating with something like that?”

His initial tirade was one I expected but then he crossed a line. Garnet flames flared around me like a bloody aura, turning my eyes purple. My wings twitched behind me as I made a stopping motion with my hand. “Stop right there. General of the Host or not, I will not allow you to speak of my Mate like that. She is not a ‘thing’ and far more worthy of my affection than others I could name. You speak against her again and it will not be mere words between us, Michael. I will give you the respect due to the General of the Holy Host, but I will not suffer my mate to be maligned.”

He cringed ever so slightly as I spat his name. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “You are your mother’s daughter, Sophiana. Very well, I will leave your choice of mate alone for peace, for now at least. We have been notified by an agent of the Spinner that Zelias is no longer among the living. You have let one of the most powerful Earth Angels die while you rolled around in a mating bed. Explain yourself.”

“Zel is dead,” I whispered. Shock and a cold fury filled me in rapid sequence at his words. “You gave me almost nothing to go on and it’s not like clues have been jumping out of the woodwork here. We have been investigating but these things take time. I’m not an oracle. I can’t just get high and know what’s going on.”

“Oracles do not just get ‘high’ to see,” he reminded me with a scowl. “You are at a dangerous stage, Childe and I… I would not wish to see you harmed. Save Gypsum and the demon that has disappeared from a university in San Diego. Well, a half demon but one still recognized by the Asmodeaus Clan as one of their own. His name is Alexander Octavius Livingston and he is missing as well. We suspect that he has been taken by the same people who took Zelias and Gypsum.”

“Why the hell would they want angels and demons,” I mused aloud. “Even with the treaties, the two usually are not friendly. How long has Livingston been missing?”

“The Asmode do not know.” He looked over his shoulder as if someone were calling him. “I have to go, Childe. Be careful.”

Before I could try to pull more information out of him, he closed the call with a wave of his hand and the mirror returned to its normal, reflective self.

My hands were clenched in frustration as I turned back to the bed. I looked at my Mate, nestled in the blankets. Her beautiful face was thoughtful as she studied me. I sighed and sank onto the bed beside her, wings curling around to touch her as my left hand did the same. “I’m sorry, Aella. He’s always been… well an ass. To me at least, can barely stand to look at me because of how much I look like my mother. Still, you shouldn’t have had to hear that from him.”

There was nothing but color for me, pure and gold and everywhere. It slithered over my skin, under my skin, and through it I could feel her, feel her heart beat, her pulse, her breath. Everything became clear, the ‘noise’ around her was suddenly so very obviously her Angellic form, astral, perhaps, huge and imposing and I knew I would kneel and worship her like that and knew she would never allow that because I was, somehow, some way, in some insanity, her equal and that was more than I could possibly bear. Except that I could.

So said the mark on my arm.
We made love for hours.
I gave her orgasm without even touching her.
I made her cry and mixed my tears with hers.
Mother Daughter Sister Lover

But, dammit, Angels call too early in the morning.

And Angels take very dangerous tones with my...Mate.
(ok, I know what they mean when they say it...but getting used to it takes time...’mate’ tends to only get used to describe animals and winning chess...which isn’t to say I’m not an animal at times...but I do suck at chess).

Listening to Michael was a lot like listening to the Council.

Here’s a job with nothing to go on. Why the fuck haven’t you finished it yet? You were eating??? We made you to barely need to eat! If you don’t get us the book there will be consequences don’t forget we own your skinny little ass and we’ll make sure you regret failures because WE ARE THE HIGH AND MIGHTY COUNCIL AND YOU WORK FOR US.
Or else.

OK, they use more...diplomatic language than that, even more diplomatic than Mikey, but thats basically the subtext. It took me years to realize what cunts they were. But, while I dislike the Council, I love the job, so I put up with it.
I did not, however, like hearing that same attitude being used with my Mate (see, i’m getting used to it already). She smacked him down, but it was obvious he allowed it purely for practical purposes.

I restrained myself from just leaping out of bed and making him watch me take her on the floor.
I’m surprisingly diplomatic, myself.
I even pulled on the t-shirt, though I don’t know why.
I mean, I KNOW he saw Eve naked...
Still, I didn’t like his...ahem...Holier Than Thou attitude.

More than that, I didn't like how this assignment felt. These beings were incredibly powerful and members of their ranks seemed to be dropping like flies. Why couldn't their scrying eyes give us more information and why was just Sophia investigating? Well, not just her, but I doubt I figured into whatever machinations they were working. In fact, I suspect I was a little sand in the gears. Which suited me just fine since Mike was beginning to feel like sand in my...shoes.

I allowed the conversation the minimal attention it required, and let myself turn inward. I wanted to know what was new in me. Nothing seemed new, everything seemed more, though. With concentration, I can do a fairly accurate self-diagnosis both for injuries and illnesses. I can honestly find out how my spleen is feeling, and I can follow the twinges and twitches where ever they go through my body. Now, though, it felt almost like I could sense down to the cellular level. Thats absurd, of course, but thats what it felt like.

I brought awareness back out, and stretched into the world. Again, everything was more. Not just more detail but wider in time. Like yes, I could tell you exactly what shade of blue each area of the wall is, well below the normal threshold of perception, but it seemed as if I could tell you what shade if had been, in the recent past, and that there had been a stain of wine there until they covered it up with a fresh coat, and hints at what would come to be but only hints because more than a couple of minutes and it just seemed to branch and more and more walls and things and changes and and and...

And everything snapped back into place.
I could see through time?
I traced the gold on my arm with my fingertips.
What was I? What was I becoming?
The past few days suddenly appeared before me, overwhelming any other thoughts I might have been wasting my time with.
I felt myself start to cry, just a little.
I thought I was perfect.
I was a fool.
This was perfection.

I felt, as much as heard, Mike fade away and I let her wrap her amazing wings around me as I turned to face her, my fingers alighting on the gold wrapped around her arm.

“Just be happy I’m in a good mood. I seriously considered making him watch me do that thing last night where you were on all fours and doing nothing but shaking and crying for me. I’m happy to show him what things like me do to his Angels.”
I smiled and my very, very large world, getting more expansive all the time, became nothing but my presence mixing with hers.

I stroked her beautiful, powerful wings with my fingertips, learning each feather I touched, learning how they all worked, somehow, to keep her aloft, the very expression of what she was. I touched my lips to one tip, letting myself remember the past few hours, our first night together, and the time she grabbed me from the sky.

I shuddered and released my grip, just a bit, on those thoughts.

“But the honeymoon is over, I’m guessing. Mikey wants you back on the job.”

"'Mikey,'" I parroted with a giggle. "Oh, I can't wait to introduce the two of you face to face next time he's down here."

The mental image of Aella molestifuckating me (or at least starting to) in front of the Archangel while calling him "Mikey" was just hysterical. The thought cut through some of the immediate grief I felt over Zelais' death. He had taught me shooting as a child and was probably responsible for the fact I had a huge gun instead of a sword as my Soul Weapon. I shoved the thoughts into a lockbox in my mind. I would deal with my grief when there was time.

"Thankfully he doesn't make it down here often, so I don't think that will be an issue any time soon." I leaned in and laid a kiss on her lips. My phone interrupted us before the kiss could become anything more. “I hate being popular.”

I managed to grab it after a moment of joint searching (why was it hanging from the ceiling fan) and flipped it open to answer. “Sophia he-….”

“Bout time,” growled a woman’s voice, cutting me off. I hit the speaker button so Aella could listen in. “This is the second of the boar sounder. Our alphas are both dead as of last night. You are failing, angel.”

I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t exactly succeed either. We’re working on it though.”

A line of curses came through the phone in my palm as I sighed. When the boar wound down I said, “I’m not going to argue with you over who’s fault this is. All I can do is try to find those left alive and punish those responsible. They’ve killed one of our own as well, my weapon’s teacher Zelias. You’re not the only ones to experience losses in this, boar.”

A moment of silence and then, “We were unaware of your losses, angel. Our condolences.”

“And mine to you,” I said automatically. I wasn’t that impressed with any were-animal group that couldn’t find their alpha, especially one with noses as sensitive as pigs. There was a reason they were used to hunt wild truffles. “I’ll let you know when vengeance has been taken and if we recover your male alpha’s body.”

“Thank you, angel,” she growled and hung up. Maybe growl was her default voice?

More death. It wasn’t surprising. Kidnappings, even mystical ones, tended to have one of two goals: using the victim to achieve some aim (money, rituals, etc.), hurting and killing the victim.

The former has a nasty tendency to lead to the latter.

“C’mon. We’re done here. Let’s go home, start over.”

I grinned.

“But first, let me introduce you to the amazing showers they have here.”
She made me promise not to ever tell anyone the sound she made at that. But it started with ‘Tee’ and ended with ‘Hee’.

My Gun Wielding Battle Angel could be cute as a button.

And hour later (thank you for near endless hot water), we emerged much happier and contented.

Packing didn’t take long, and by the time we got to the elevator, Richard was already heading into the room to grab our bags. Somehow, they’d end up in the car before we got there. I do love this place.

Adrian was waiting for us in the lobby.

“I’m sorry you won’t be staying longer. You bring style to the place,” he joked as he walked us to the waiting car.

“Maybe if you cleaned...” I started to joke when I suddenly found myself in a hug.
In public.

“Congratulations. This makes me happy,” he whispered, then turned to hug Sophia, “And you are also welcome here, any time, day or night.”

In a blink, though, he was his perfect, professional self again.

He was still watching as we drove off.

The ride was wonderful. At times, it was like we were a normal couple. We shared stories of the people we’d met, the adventures we’d had, even bitched about our bosses. Between stories there was contemplation. We needed very much to figure out what was going on, and clues were in short supply.

Tempe would have known what to do.

Tempe always knew.

We slid back into Fear’s Bay just as my hunger started to pester me. It had been a while since I last ate, and even at a standstill, my body burned calories. And we had NOT been standing still very much. I pulled into the first spot I found in center city.

“Well, on the plus side, Tempe will know I’m coming for her. If we can find where she is, we’ll have someone working with us as best she can, on the inside.”

I left out the if she’s alive.

My stomach grumbled. The body is not to be denied.

“C’mon. Warrior needs food, badly,” I joked in a slightly electronic voice. Hey, I get my downtime, I get my video games. Lemme alone.

“There’s a good bistro a couple blocks from here,” I took her hand as she rose, majestically, from the car. I smiled. The more I knew her, it seemed, the more I constantly saw her in both her forms. Or maybe it had something to do with the power-meld-whatchawhozit. I dunno. I didn’t mind, though.

We walked a block, hand in hand, then I turned us down an alleyway. This wasn’t a smart idea, as such, for two women to do, but, y’know, its us.
But, like in the movies, he stepped out from behind the dumpster, holding a knife.

“Just gimme your cash and we can all be happy.”

Before he’d finished the sentence, I was in front of Sophia. Yes, I am aware of both the irony of the sexism here, and the slight condescension, but I had promised to stand before her, between her and danger, and until some unstoppable force changed that, before her I would stand.

Everything in his body language said that he wasn’t actually a danger, he wouldn’t seriously try and stab us, that it was all a bluff.

I almost laughed at the guy’s bad luck, at what was about to turn into an epic fail.

“Look, you really...”

And, suddenly, everything changed.

I saw the dominos that had led him to this moment.

No. Thats not right. I saw...images...that gave impressions of where he’d been, the choices he’d made.

I did not know his past, but I understood it.

He had always been a loser. He’d lived for shortcuts, scams, the big deals. But those never, ever worked for him. Not quite a criminal, not quite legal, he’d lived in a grey area. And each failure had made him more committed to the next scam, the next get-rich scheme, from minor league extortion to pyramid schemes.

And it had all brought him here, in an alleyway, in broad daylight, with a knife.

I understood.

And, suddenly, everything changed.

I saw his path, if he continued. That he might rise up a bit, but his spiral downward was all but inevitable. Fortune did not smile on him, nor did his own abilities measure up to the challenge. At some point, he would start hurting people. That first time would be a moment, the Rubicon for the rest of his life.

That first time would be his end, his death, he’d just keep moving on for a while.

I did not know his future, but I understood it.

But it hadn’t happened yet.

It didn’t have to happen.

My voice became soft and serious. It was a new voice for me.

“Your whole life has been a loss, but it does not have to continue that way. You can stop now. You are going to find yourself in a dark place, and you are going to do bad things. But you can stop now.”

He was frozen in place.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a card. Larissa’s card.

“This is my sister. Call her. She can and will help you if you let her. Or don’t. This. This right here. This is a moment. Change your life.”

To my surprise (actually, the entire event was ‘to my surprise’), he took the card. He looked at me, turned, and ran.

“Go forth, and sin no more,” I whispered with a smile.

“What the hell was that?” Sophia asked after he’d turned the corner.

“I do not have any idea.”

And I didn’t.



We were halfway through our meal at the Oasis Bistro before we spoke again.

“It was almost like I saw everything about his life. I understood him. And I just knew what was going to happen if he kept going that way. Like visions of an unwritten future. Like...”

But I didn’t get to finish my thought.

Whatever show had been playing on the TV behind the bar got interrupted.

“This is Jackie Rose with a breaking story.”

Her voice was wrong, it was almost afraid.

“Mona Delecourte is down at the Fear’s Bay docks with live footage of a violent disturbance. Mona?”

Mona appeared on the screen but, of course, I didn’t care much. What I did care about was the two massive, armored...things...duking it out behind her. I could see that they’d totaled more than one warehouse, and that their fight had left a path of chaos and destruction behind them. The Port Authority Police were responding, but even their heaviest weapons didn’t seem much use.

There were bodies.

Mona was prattling on as a very expensive looking boat pulled up to the dock where she was filming, and suddenly the screen went all static.

“Mona? Mona can you hear me?” Jackie asked into her microphone, hand to hear earpiece.

“We seem to have lost our feed, but we will keep you up to date as the situation develops. Again, for those of you just joining us, two giant creatures are fighting at the Fear’s Bay docks.”

I couldn’t decide if I was happy I was about to get something to hit, or if I was suddenly missing LA.

I turned to my Angel.

“You know, I had a whole ‘nother chicken cutlet coming. And curly fries.”

The Blue Mage's assistant

Things must begin to move, they’re becoming stagnant. Inspiration strikes and she puts in a simple phone call that starts an avalanche of events. Nameless villagers will fall and drown in the wake of the avalanche, but that is of little concern to her.

The grunts of the association should be enough to bring in a real angel. The bait has been laid, the trap is set. She sends a quick text message with the “go” phrase.

So long as The Family is safe, the lives of others mean little to her.

Sophia

Lunch got pushed to the wayside, because the good team doesn’t let the monsters run rampant and eat the general populace. At least that’s what I told Aella as we slid into her car and roared over toward the waterfront.

The smell of the sea air is covered, masked by the stench of leaking fuel and human terror. The coppery scent of blood creates a skin-crawling undertone that does nothing to ease my mind. The wind shifts slightly as we leave Aella’s car and I can smell them. That unique mix of brimstone and rotting meat assails my nose as screams fill the air. While many demons smell of brimstone, most are fairly clean creatures by nature. Only the truly violent or stupid demons reek of rotting meat, those that don’t care if their smell gives them away. I could only think of one type of demon capable of this kind of destruction with that kind of stench.

I look over at Aella and put on my game face. “So Molarch demons… at least that’s what it smells like and once you smell one you never forget. Think a Rancor from Star Wars and add in horns, take away some intelligence and increase the blood lust.”

A body goes flying into the air from behind a warehouse perched on the dockside. Its limbs flail until a monstrously clawed hand snaps into the air to catch it. The body disappears behind the building followed by a burp that echoes.

“Charming creatures, really,” I quip as I look around. Those that could run away had and those that couldn’t… well they were gory smears on the pavement and wood. A news van lay on its side, crumpled like a discarded soda can. What I assume was part of the reporter from earlier lay under the van, identifiable only by the bright scarlet suit.

The path of destruction led from the remains of a 53 foot container on a semi-truck, past the news van and into a series of dock-side warehouses. Screams and yells punctuated the air, faint given the distance of the parking lot Aella had chosen.

“So, are we going in subtle or guns blazing?” Aella’s question was calm but there was an anticipatory glint in her unique eyes.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I said with a shrug as I tossed my jacket back into her car. With a sigh, I released the bonds that held the angelic side of myself back. A moment later, my wings were rustling in the seaward breeze and my soul weapon was a comfortingly solid presence in my hands. The jeans and halter top I wore weren’t my normal battle attire but there was no time to head to my apartment to change. “You go in subtle, I’ll grab their attention. The authorities won’t give much credence to reports of angels flying around, so if anyone sees me, it’ll get ignored as PTSD. Plus- Molarch demons hate angels with a passion, so they’ll leave the humans alone and chase after me. They’re weak at the backs of their joints, hamstringing works well.”

Aella nodded as she started pulling weapons from her car and arming herself. My attention was diverted from the demons to the way the leather harness hugged the curves of her torso, framing some my favorite curves. She caught me looking and smiled, kissed me quickly. Her voice was serious but her smile softened it. “We’ve got work to do, my Angel.”

As I turned to take off her hand landed an encouraging smack across my ass. I shot a mock glare at her and moved higher into the air, letting the sea breeze help. Rising above the carnage, the path to follow was clear. I followed the trail of terror and found that there were two Molarch demons, not just one and they had found a container full of Twinkies to tear into.

My head tilted to the side as I watched the demons shovel the yellow sponge cakes down their throats. I had never seen nor heard anything like this- demons placated by snack cakes, at least temporarily. At least the snacks were Kosher, I mused a bit whimsically before getting down to business.


The demons had managed to tear a hole into the sides of a container waiting to be lifted with a crane, probably onto one of the huge transport ships in the harbor. There were a few scattered body parts around them, some of them obviously stepped on. They were so focused on their yellow snack cakes that I had to let out a piercing whistle to get the monsters attention.

The anti-tank round from my soul weapon helped grab their attention, too. Turns out that Molarch hides aren’t up to armor piercing rounds, who knew?

Another fun fact- Molarch demons have pretty good aim when throwing pallets of snake cakes. Said pallet hit me dead on with no warning and knocked me from the air. I managed to avoid landing under the pallet but still got hit with the splatter of wood shards and snack cake filling.

“I haven’t been covered in this much white stuff in a while,” I groused as I pushed myself up to my feet. I’d kept my grip on the gun, though bringing it up to my shoulder sent streamers of fiery pain through me. The Molarch demon I’d hit before being assaulted with snack cakes was staring at its now-useless left paw (hand?) in seeming confusion. Its partner, the thrower, let loose a roar and started to charge. The peer underfoot shook with the weight of the demon, the vibrations making my teeth rattle.

I pulled the trigger, sending a round to the charging demon but the recoil from the gun made me nearly drop it. I must have hurt my shoulder in the fall because it was anything but okay now. The shot took the demon in the center body mass but it barely noticed it, so caught up was it in its charge.

With a grunt, I braced the gun against my hip, knowing it wasn’t a proper shooting stance but it was the best I could do on the fly. The next round knocked off a horn, most of an ear and a chuck of scale before the Molarch reached me. The meaty paw backhanded me through a plate glass window into a warehouse and though I flared my wings as I flew, they didn’t slow me down so much as let me guide my landing onto a crate full of packing peanuts. I still hit it like a ton of bricks though, sending packing peanuts into the air around me in a cloud. My momentum broke me through the far side of the crate and I rolled across the concrete floor another dozen feet before sliding to a stop.

“Oh, that wasn’t fair,” I moaned as I looked around me. My vision was blurry from the fall and the rolling, my stomach rebelling against the uncontrolled motions. I tried to push myself up to my hands and knees only to have my right arm buckle underneath me, completely useless now. I let out a torrent of cursing as I compensated and rose to my knees. My vision cleared and I realized I wasn’t alone in the warehouse. I could hear the rasp of boots across the concrete floor and cursed some more as I spotted them.

A scream from outside echoed through me and I could feel something from Aella through our Link. The golden mark on my hand glittered but I couldn’t tell what it meant, we hadn’t had any time to figure it out yet.

A voice, dark and thick as molasses, brought my attention back to my own immediate problems. “From dem dere wings, I’ma judging you must be dat angel Mizz Forestheart wanted. You be comin with us quiet-like and no one ‘ll get hurt.”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” I said before letting out a raw burst of sound and power. The power seemed to ripple and sheer away from the speaker, a tall man with skin as dark as his voice sounded. He wore a variant on the “typical” spec-ops uniform and held a metallic collar in his hand. My efforts weren’t quite so vain against the men beside him, who were tossed like rag-dolls backward. I knew how they felt.

“I did try be de nice man my mamma woulda wanted,” molasses-voice said with a rueful shake of his head. He made a hand motion and sighed. “You chose dis.”

I was in motion, wings flared with an attempted take off when the dart hit me. Who uses tranquilizer guns these days?

“Be gentle with her,” I hear molasses-voice say as I tremble, trying to move. “She’ll be great in the arena, I can tell. A much better fight than the other one.”

“Fuck,” I howled as I crumpled, my body no longer responding. Made me wonder what they had in those darts… would it affect Aella through our bond? Was she okay? Was... why… oh, blackness.

My envy of her Soul Weapon, tickled by the sound of rounds being fired off, was pushed aside only because of the surreal nature of the scene.

Giant fucking demons eating cream filled snack-cakes.

Some days, my life seems pretty strange, even to me.

I watched as one of the demons picked up the nickname Lefty. No reason not to finish the job. Especially as it gave me a chance to try something I'd wanted to since I saw that elf in the Lord Of The Rings movies.

I drew two long-blades from inside my jacket and with ease that surprised even me, I was able to scamper (and no, there's really no other word for it than that) up the back of Lefty and, perched on his shoulders, insert a blade into each eye.

Two things to remember:
1. Eyes are almost always vulnerable.
2. The kill is almost instantaneous. 'Almost' is the key factor there. If you forget 'almost' you almost get thrown into the bay.
#2 was not helped by an annoying buzzing that was starting in my head, and running a straight line down to the mark that bonded me to my Angel.

Sadly, I didn't exactly have time to take any of that into consideration since I still had one more monstrosity to deal with.

So I thought.

Once I was down on my own two feet again, I could see the other demon had finished its charge on pure momentum, but it was down for the count.

I scanned the battlefield and saw the broken window and knew what must have happened.

The buzzing was growing stronger and stronger as I sprinted for where I knew she had to be.

But she wasn't.

And the buzzing was almost painful now, mixed with my panic.

The demon couldn't have taken her, and I didn't think she'd have even been knocked out by the thing, she was too strong and fast. I was digging through the rubble like a madwoman, and finding nothing.

She was gone, and that's all I knew, and that was sending me into a panic before I even realized it.

No.

I couldn't work this way. Adrenelin is wonderful in a fight, and it'll make you dead blind otherwise.
I dropped to the floor, and centered myself. I found a calm place, a wiser place, a focus.

And it drifted to that damn buzzing.

And the buzzing turned into a clear tone. Tones. Notes that said nothing except that she was in danger, taken and helpless.

Notes that tried oh so hard to tell me where she was.
Notes that pointed me where I needed to go.
This time, music was my ally.

I didn't even have to think, I was simply back in the car, and heading back to my apartment.
My leathers, a few choice weapons, and a couple surprises just in case.
My…Mate…being taken wasn't my favorite way of finding out the end to all this, but it would have to do.

My enemy had finally made a mistake.
There was absolutely no way anyone at the other end of this song was getting between me and my Angel and my Sister.

But I sure fucking hoped some of them would try.

Sophia

I was awakened roughly, her name on my lips. “My whirlwind…”

“She’s above, the little whirlwind,” came the molasses-ridden voice I barely remembered. My eyes opened but I could barely see, the world a smear of light and dark colors. Every part of my body hurt, from the wings I couldn’t manifest to my right shoulder. It had healed some while I’d been unconscious but it still ached fiercely. A heavy collar encircled my neck, shocks of pain emitting from it at random intervals. The voice came again, “Time to go fight, angel.”

Course tiles grated against my feet as I was dragged blindly forward. I stumbled and was shoved onward, rattling the chains around my wrists, ankles and at the collar on my throat. The collar sent waves of fiery pain through me, dampening my powers, my senses and even my thought patterns. Through the pain, I could feel my link to Aella but just barely. Since an angel’s powers are so much a part of her, depressing them by any means results in overall sensory and ability depression as well.

Beneath me, the floor changed from tiles to sand as we passed through some kind of portal. The door of the heavy portal opened and piercingly bright light flooded my eyes. I hissed at the pain and blinked rapidly to clear the spots as the roar of a crowd thundered around me. I didn’t care about the crowd as my vision cleared in fuzzy patches. Something about the collar made it difficult to see at a distance but I could see what mattered. Even if I could just barely see her, see the outline of her with splashes of color.

A splash of spotted clarity shot through my eyes for a brief second and all I could see was her. The gun at her forehead like an insult to the injuries she already bore. The “handler” behind me laughed as my Aella was pistol whipped viciously. I strained at the bindings but couldn’t break them, nor could I wretch free from his grasp.

“You will fight,” came the insidious voice of the Blue Mage. Magnified by a great sound system or spell, his voice echoed through the arena in a grimy caress. “Angel of Earth, you will battle with an elemental demon, or we will kill your partner.”

“No,” I growled and it was loud to my own ears. Must be a spell. “You’re a monster and I am not your fighting dog.”

“I’m trying to be kind,” he said, signaling one of his men to pistol whip Aella again. I could hear her cry out from where I was. “Fight, Angel, or I’ll have her killed.”

Fury echoed through me, crimson tingeing my vision. I couldn’t comprehend how they had captured her; much less gotten her up onto that stage without casualties on their side but that didn’t matter. “You kill her and I will tear this place apart and destroy you all.”

He turned to the audience. “Our combatant is reluctant to fight. Should we kill her partner, since she means so little?”

Roars of affirmation filled the arena, each one a blood thirsty howl. I felt something inside me grow cold and snap at the sounds the crowd made.

“Last chance,” the mage said, picking up a gun and pointing it at Aella. “Fight or she dies.”

I knew the woman I had held in my arms for so short a time. She would never want me to surrender to a monster for her sake. “You will do what you will do. If I fight now, you’ll kill her later. If I don’t fight, you’ll kill her now. It is a moot point. Let her go or face my wrath.”

“Then she dies.”

The gunshot echoed through the arena, echoed through my soul followed by a tsunami of pain. I sank to my knees in the chains, tears streaming unheeded down my face as I stared with eyes blurred by the collar’s spell at the body the Blue Mage stood beside, gun smoking. I screamed in rage, the red consuming me, balling up inside of me with a fury beyond rage. That ball released in an explosion of gold light, starting with me but ending a good twenty feet from me on either side.

The tinkle of falling chains was inaudible over the sudden gasp of the crowd as I stood, free of the bindings. I was healed in the burst of magic I emitted, by body changing to accommodate it. Furling my wings, I was surprised by the doubled sensation for a moment. A glance over my shoulders made me gasp as well.

I had Ascended and in my fury done something no Earth Angel had done in millennia- I had grown the second pair of wings that would mark me as one of the Heavenly Host. Both sets of wings shone with white and gold in the arena lights instead of the black and garnet I was familiar with. The Mate Mark on my forearm glittered gold as I clenched that fist. I braced my feet, wondering at how it felt different than usual for a moment before pushing it aside. I would figure out what my Ascension did to me after my vengeance was taken.

I flicked my right hand and instead of the huge gun that I had previously called, a great flaming bastard sword came to my call instead. It was rimed in blue flames and felt more at home in my hand than any sword had before. Whispers slide though my consciousness, the sword telling me how to use it, murmurings of divine justice. I was in complete agreement. Holy light suffused me, made me strong though my heart wanted to fall to pieces. I wanted to fall to pieces… later, I promised myself, if there was a later.

“Jonathan Watcher, you have violated your last commandment. Blue Mage, prepare to walk with the dead, for you have been judged by Heaven’s agent and found most wanting.”

If Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, than it surely has nothing on a female angel set on vengeance.

The pissed-off and dramatic part of me wanted to take to the rooftops. Running and leaping like that (which is much harder than it might appear in the movies, but still completely doable if you know your city) would be a good way to vent.

But it's also not a very efficient way, and it does limit your effective range and speed.

It also tends to draw stares when done at mid-day.

However, when one has a brand new Ducati Diavel AMG, one makes due. Also, tearing through the street like that offers no small amount of emotional release in and of itself.

I let my attention split, let parts of my mind pay attention to roads and traffic, another part to the music that was guiding me, and a third to communicate between the two. Yes, this works very well when dealing with GPS systems in my car, too.

There was some internal debate over how to best follow the siren song, but ultimately, I ended up taking a somewhat less-than-direct spiral path. This took longer than I’d wanted, but in the end it left no doubt as to where I was being guided.

The Hitachi Research Tower.

The pitch and tone of the music changed, something said ‘down’.
I can’t explain it better than that, but it made sense.
Sadly, it meant I wasn’t going to be striding into the lobby and beating the hell out of the rent-a-cops.

Because I knew exactly where I was being taken. It wasn’t the tower.

It was the caves.

When I’d first come to Fear’s Bay, I’d scouted the city out, and learned about the complex of caves underneath the commercial district. I’d considered setting up my base of operations in one of them, but, my Batman fascination aside (yeah, like that’s a surprise), it wasn’t very practical. But I did know more than a couple ways to get into them, and one was easily accessed from a sewer pipe that a manhole right behind the tower lead to.

Eww.

In 20 minutes, I was cutting through a grate that lead into what had previously been untouched caverns, but was now something else. My enemy had built an entire complex into the cave system. This wasn’t a fly-by-night operation. They were planning on staying a while.

And who knew how long they’d been there.

I crept quietly down the hallway, dispatching two impressively armed guards, before finding myself in room of cages, each one holding one of our kidnap victims, plus some we hadn’t know about. They turned, as one, when I entered, and I signaled them for silence.

Tempest was not in the room, and some of the cages were empty. I spotted the one she’d been kept in easily. Its exactly how I would have designed it. No way to get at ANYTHING that might have been used as a tool. We are all born improvisors.

She was close, both of them. I could feel them now. Tempest coming through one channel in my mind, probably an expression of my new abilities, and the music had turned to a strange cacophony that said CLOSE CLOSE CLOSE.

I heard people. A crowd. Cheering.

I followed.

Three more guards met their ends, and some schmuck in a lab coat.
The double doors that stood between the crowd and I opened with a very satisfying kick.

There’s no way anyone in the world would have expected to see a muscle bound, male Angel with a massive, bloody sword standing above a corpse, and a crowd of panicked spectators, but, there they all were.

And I knew that ‘he’ was ‘her’.

And I knew my life was a very strange place.

There was another body, though.

One that I recognized even at a distance.

My sister.

I screamed.

One movement, one being, arm and blade two parts of a vengeful whole as they move to strike down he who would take her from me. A spell slammed into my chest as my blade made contact with his body but I ignored it, finishing the movement. A clean slice from right to left, the bastard sword glittering in my hand. Ruby droplets glow with a blue aura along the length of its blessed blade. Two more strikes take down the all too human guards next to the fallen mage, the ones that held her as she died. The spell against my chest dissolved and fell away as I turned to the audience that had screamed for her death.

Her…

I could not help but look down at the woman lying in the bloody sand at my feet. I knelt next to her and was shocked to realize that she was thinner than she had been hours ago. But how? I pushed a lock of hair away from her too thin face and realized my mistake as my mate link recovered from my change. It lit up like a firework on my arm, golden light erupting from its elegant lines.

“Tempest,” I hear her whisper behind me in the sudden silence of the arena. I made myself turn and saw the very best of my world running toward me at a speed no human could match. Then her voice rose to a hoarse shout, “Sophia!”

Springing to my feet, I met her run and caught her up in my arms, beyond words at being able to do so. She seems so tiny tucked against me, her head barely reaching my shoulder. My hands against her back nearly spanned it as I pulled her tight against closer. The voice coming from my throat did not sound much like mine. “I thought you were dead… you are the most beautiful, foul-smelling, amazing woman I have ever known and I could not have lived with you gone. But for now, we have some vengeance to wreck.”

She was foul, the stench of fear and a something like a sewer clinging to her skin. I was little better though, clad in tattered rags that did not cover my… where were my….

It hit me then, what my Ascension had done to my physical form, what it had changed me into. If course, since this is me, the first words out of my mouth after realizing it were, “Well, this will make sex different.”

She laughed, her voice like a soothing balm. “Later, my angel, later.”

I could see her eyes flash and harden as she looked beyond me, felt it happen to my own face as well. My bastard sword reappeared in my hand as I looked up to the audience that had cheered for the death of my mate’s sister, thinking she was mine. I Judged them and found them wanting.

“So, up for some wholesale, Biblical era, plague upon the audience type fun?”

Because I certainly was.

Gypsy

Gypsy's jaw didn't seen to want to work correctly as she watched the strange lady in green disappear into the shadows that lined the cage room. Her hand flew to her throat, fingers touching bare skin, scarred from where the collar had made contact. I'm a shifter? Not an angel... is that why I don't have a soul weapon?


Screams from the cage beside her knocked her out of her thoughts. She flung her wings out with a grateful scream and looked to the werewolf standing outside the cage. ''I am feeling a distinct need to kick some ass, you?"

The werewolf princess chuckled, nose crinkling around the sound. "Let us find our captors. I have a few... words I wish to share with that southern bastard."

"Lead the way,'' Gypsy said, leaving her cage and falling in behind the werewolf. She paused to grab clothing from the control room. Even a skimpy skirt and top were better than running around bare breasted. She didn't take time to hunt down a pair of shoes, they weren't nessesary.

Werewolf and winged woman made their way up to the arena where screams and power echoed from. It was quite a show.

Gypsy could admit to herself, if no one else, that she looked around for Octavius, but he was nowhere to be seen. There were some pretty terrified screams coming from the what she assumed were the male cage rooms though.

My Angel’s voice held the edge of vengence that I felt growing in my own chest.

But it quickly vanished as soon as I realized it.

Vengence never worked well for me. I was too likely to become obsessed.

Its my way.

I’m not much good at feeling righteous. But, thats what Angels are for, isn’t it?

I looked out into the panicked crowd banging at the locked doors and couldn’t help but take a certain satisfaction that no doubt many would be trampled by other members of their sick little audience.

Then my vision shifted, and I could see them cheering for my sister’s death, could see them watching with blood hungry eyes every single battle and mutilation. I could see, clearly, that they were as much at fault as that strange ringmaster my Angel had sliced in half.

They had to die.

This was not righteous anger, or vengence.
It was that they would make it all happen again.
And again.

The fire that made me draw my two blades was justice. Not for the dead, it was far too late for them, but for those who still lived, and who might get drawn into the sickness that these people created.

They had to be stopped.
Here, and now.
Vengence by her wing, justice by my hand.
There are worse balances in the world.

God I loved her.

As we moved swiftly to bring an end to all this, I couldn’t help but realize that my life had gotten very strange over the few days since we’d met.

Tempest was dead, and, in my own time, I would mourn for her.

I’d encountered more magical beasties in a handful of days than I had in any given year before. And that was saying something.

I’d gone off on my own, without orders from the Council, something I’d never really done before.

I’d fallen in love for the first time, and been granted holy powers from entities that appeared to be from beyond any world I could imagine.

And I’d been shown that I could have a life beyond orders and fighting.

I found myself thinking back to that night when I’d thrown myself from the top of the tower, certain, so very certain even then, that she would save me.

I had to smile, even as I leaped into the crowd.

So what if, from time to time, my beautiful Angel grew an extra pair of wings and a penis?

Nobody’s perfect.