Chapter Nine: Blood of the Gods
"I can't believe you just let Seneca take him like that!" Cato exclaimed. Johanna rolled her eyes and headed to the bar, immediately sitting down on a chair. All of the walking around was in complete opposition to her lazy nature and it was becoming obvious that it was taking its toll on her. "You said so yourself, he's crazy and will do anything to get Peeta's wings!"
"We've got him in our eye line, genius," Johanna threw back. She pointed to the VIP platform, where Seneca had just thrown himself onto a sofa with Peeta, looking like a teenage girl dying to hear some gossip. "All this running around is taking it out of me," she huffed.
As annoyed as Cato was with Johanna, he did feel bad for her. Being the demon of laziness couldn't be easy. Even simply going for a walk took a lot of willpower on her part. This quest was probably murdering her. Cato sat down beside her and glanced uneasily at the VIP platform where Seneca continued to make Peeta uncomfortable.
Noticing Cato's terse expression, Johanna sighed and said, "Peeta's a big boy. He can look after himself."
"Peeta is a big boy," Cato agreed. "He's a big boy who's been sheltered by Snow for centuries."
"Do you really think Snow shelters him?" asked Johanna.
"Johanna, you're an original-a demon of the seven deadliest-you didn't see Peeta in the beginning."
Johanna waved the bartender (a man with no shirt on but who had cufflinks with wings sprouting out of the sides on his wrists) over and pointed at a drink on the specials board. When the man walked away, she asked, "What do you mean?"
Cato ran a tired hand through his hair. He shook his head. "When Snow created Peeta he didn't think to give him knowledge before bringing him to life. When he was born, Peeta looked as he does now but his mind was empty. Snow did everything for him."
Johanna raised her eyebrows. "Everything?" she repeated. "How much are we talking here?"
Cato chewed his lower lip before remembering a story that would prove his point. "The angel now known as Chayyliel confided in me before the fall that he'd walked in on Snow giving Peeta a bath. Apparently, he just sat there, staring blankly at the opposite wall while Snow 'washed' him. And I say washed like that because Chayyliel said he had never seen someone bathe a person with their own head in the water."
Johanna's eyes widened. "Shit. So you think Snow sheltered Peeta because he missed the blank vessel that let him do what he wanted without question?"
"Peeta's too opinionated now," Cato sighed. "He became the perfect warrior for heaven except his drive to follow the rules means that Snow can't abuse him as easily anymore. Lust is one of the seven and Peeta knows this. He rejects it completely but Snow takes it from him anyway." Cato shuddered, noticing for the first time how enraged thinking about Snow's treatment of Peeta made him. He clenched his fists and forced himself to calm down.
"Takes it from him anyway . . ." Johanna trailed off, her brown eyes soft as they gazed at Cato in disbelief.
"He is too stubborn to admit it but Snow is a rapist. I think Peeta has suppressed this knowledge and denied its existence. And who would blame him? Admitting that Snow does do things against his will would break down Peeta's entire belief system. Peeta's not like the other angels. He didn't really have a choice when the fall happened. He was literally raised to love Snow. To believe he was good. Now that that is in jeopardy, he's terrified."
"I didn't know you cared so much," Johanna said gently.
"I didn't. Not until I went to hell and we began to notice Snow's sinful actions . . ." Cato wished he didn't care so much. It would make things so much easier. Peeta was like an infectious disease. Once you caught him, it was hard to be rid of him.
Temperance, who had wandered onto the counter top, hissed. He lifted his wings and flapped them angrily. Johanna patted his head and shushed him. "It must be killing you," she said. "To care about an angel in this way. How has your inner darkness not taken over yet?"
"It nearly did," Cato muttered. Temperance hissed again, pushing away from Johanna and trying to take flight. Cato grabbed the reptile and kept him down. God, what had gotten into him?! It couldn't be that the dragon was separated from Peeta, he had been away from him before. So why was he acting like a petulant child? "Before you arrived, Peeta and I were fighting. I suppose the frustration I felt because of Peeta's stubborn nature caused my badness to reveal itself."
"Did you hurt him?" Johanna asked.
"I scared the living shit out of him, I know that," Cato clarified.
Johanna had darkness as well. If she acted too good then her inner demon would take control of her. That was why she was so snarky and sarcastic. She kept her demons at bay by acting like a douche to people. It worked, most of the time, but working with an angel was taking its toll on her, just like it was taking its toll on Cato.
Except Johanna's demon was the demon of laziness. It was where she harnessed her powers from. When the evil inside took over her, she simply turned into a lazy slob. Cato's demon? Well, it was a lot worse than Johanna's. It harnessed love, passion and sexuality. When it was unleashed, even Cato feared what it would unleash.
Temperance bit Cato's hand, causing a burn to flare through his veins. Cato cursed and shook his hand, letting go of the dragon all together. Temperance screeched an unearthly scream, flying off in the direction of the VIP platform. Cato tried to grab him before he was out of reach but stopped in his tracks when he realized what had riled Temperance up.
Peeta and Seneca were gone.
"Oh fuck," Johanna said behind him.
"Where did they go?!" Cato shouted. He spun around just as the bartender from earlier returned with Johanna's drink. Except instead of handing it to her, he flipped the tray over and smashed it against her face. Johanna screamed in momentary pain and wretched the tray out of the man's hands. Cato took the tray from Johanna and took a swing at the bartender, who ducked underneath the bar to evade the blow. Cato climbed onto the bar, the music from the club seeming to have gotten louder as it pounded in his ears like a hammer, and jumped over onto the other side.
Seneca must have hired this fucker to take care of them while he kidnapped Peeta!
Johanna jumped onto the bar in one smooth jump, the heels of her boots causing the glasses to rattle. When the bartender stood up, she kicked him in the face so he reeled backwards into the drinks shelves. Cato grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt and slammed him down against the countertop. Once. Twice. A third time. The music was still going but nobody was dancing. Cato could feel all eyes on them. Not watching out of worry. Watching for entertainment.
"Where the fuck is Seneca?" Cato roared at the man.
"Fuck you!" The bartender spat back. His arm snapped out and swept underneath Johanna's feet, causing her to lose balance and fall off the bar. She fell backwards with a scream of surprise and landed on her back on the broken glass behind. It all happened within a millisecond and bartender took the moment of concern Cato felt to yank away from the hold he demon had on him and threw a punch at Cato. His fist connected with Cato's jaw, causing a swell of blinding pain to curl up the left side of his face.
It wasn't enough to throw Cato off, however, and he punched back, landing a blow square on the bartender's nose. The bartender tried to scramble over the bar to escape but Temperance latched onto his hair with his sharp teeth and dragged him back over so he couldn't leave. The bartender stumbled backwards and tripped over Johanna, who had curled herself up into a ball with the exact intentions make him fall. Cato jumped over Johanna and landed on top of the man, digging his knee into the man's stomach and grabbing a fistful of hair to hold him against the floor.
"Where did Seneca go?" Cato repeated.
"I don't know!" the man spat back.
Cato growled and wrapped his tail around the bartender's throat, squeezing tight enough to remove most-but not all-oxygen from his system. "Tell me or suffocate you bastard!" he shouted.
"I don't know!" he insisted.
"Were you hired?" Johanna demanded, crawling while simultaneously picking pieces of glass out of her back.
"Yes!"
"What were you hired for?" Cato snapped.
"To kill you!"
"Why?!"
The bartender thrashed frantically but Cato's grip was too firm. "Because Seneca wants to take your friend's wings! He's going to lobotomise him and use what he gets for his museum!"
Cato's ears felt like they were bleeding. He flexed his jaw and further tightened his grip on the bartender's neck. "I know that you know where they are. You have one chance to tell me or I'm going to send you to hell a bit earlier than planned," he snapped.
"Seneca probably took him to his office but that's all I know! I don't know where his office is or how to go about finding it please don't kill me!" the man begged.
Johanna touched Cato's arm. "He's telling the truth," she said. She focused on the bartender and scowled, eyes flashing black. "Doesn't mean he deserves our pity."
Cato growled in agreement and slashed the man's throat with the point of his tail. The bartender coughed, blood spurting from his mouth. He remained this way for several minutes. Coughing and spluttering before finally going still.
Peeta wasn't here and Johanna and Cato weren't the forgiving types.
They left the man where he was, the pool of blood growing around his neck getting increasingly larger as the seconds passed. Johanna was the first to clamour back over the bar. "We need to find his office," she said.
Cato was right behind her.
~xXx~
"Your God isn't the only one," Seneca purred, rummaging around in his desk drawers. "There are hundreds of belief systems out there. Buddhism, Hinduism, Muslim, etc. Thousands of Gods in existence. Not just yours."
Peeta struggled to stay calm. He wanted to continue to thrash and scream but he knew it was expending his energy. Energy he might need later if he got a chance to escape. He was still petrified but he hid it well. Seneca couldn't know the increasingly horrifying effect he was having on his captive. Besides, what the maniac was saying was peaking Peeta's interest.
"Those who believe in your God receive punishment from your God. Those who believe in other Gods receive punishment from those Gods," Seneca continued. "I have been collecting the blood of various deities over the years. From Aphrodite herself to nicks off of Romulus. All in preparation for this moment."
What did he mean 'this moment'?
"The blood of the Gods have healing powers if applied on their own. But when they're mixed together the feuding of the different chemicals cause a burning reaction. And I have over fifty different blood types mixed together in my trusty vial," Seneca took pleasure in explaining. "It will be enough to burn your wings off of your back from the joint and not cause any damage to your or the wings themselves."
Peeta's heart picked up. His blood was thrumming so hard it felt like Seneca could hear his silent panic. He prayed that Cato and Johanna would find him before he lost his wings. Wait, no, he couldn't pray. If he prayed Snow would pick up on it and know where he was. Peeta had to physically force himself to stay silent because praying had always been second nature to him and trying to not do it was like trying not to blink.
Seneca must have been searching for the vial of blood. Peeta wondered if the man truly was crazy. Other Gods? That was impossible. There was only Snow. Clearly Seneca had heard an old wives tale and had taken it too seriously.
Peeta tried to think of a way of escape but Seneca had thought of everything. He had bound him up with bandages that had been cursed by Lady Karma. Peeta had never met Lady Karma but Snow had warned him off of her with horror stories of her power. Peeta did not wish to ever encounter her because she held rein over everything. The tiny threads of the war hung from between her fingertips.
"Snow will most definitely kill me when the trail finally leads to me," Seneca said sombrely. "However, by then I will have my will written and my museum shall be passed down. I will hide your wings if trouble arises so that Snow doesn't confiscate what will become the main attraction of my livelihood!"
A hand suddenly touched Peeta's face and he jumped in surprise. Seneca's fingers wormed underneath the bandages, unthreading them and pulling them away from the captured angel's eyes. Relieved to finally be able to see, Peeta desperately searched his surroundings. He was in an office of some sort. Boring beige walls; a mahogany desk; cream carpet; no personal bits and bobs like photographs or nick nacks. He also checked his current state of bondage. He was tied up with bandages which had been wound numerous times around his ankles, wrists, shoulders and mouth.
"I might just take your eyes as well," Seneca decided. He spoke as if he were making diplomatic decisions. "These baby blues could bring me a lot of business."
Peeta felt an urge to do something that went against his good nature. If his mouth were free, he would have spat at the creep. Seneca was trying to be sneaky, pretending that he was only after Peeta's eyes and wings but Peeta knew the truth. Seneca was going to take every body part and feature that he could to put on display. Peeta had to escape. He had to get out. But every possible escape route would involve breaking his moral code.
"I want to tell you that this won't hurt, honey, but I'm sorry I can't," Seneca sighed. He stroked Peeta's hair like he was petting a dog. That was the thing about him: he treated Peeta like an animal, not a person.
Seneca pushed Peeta onto his side and survival instinct took over. The captured angel lashed out and, despite his being tied up, managed to kick Seneca a fair amount of times. He knocked the psycho over with his bound ankles, pushing him over onto his back. Annoyingly, he managed to keep his vial of blood in his hand without spilling any. When Peeta tried to roll away, his left wing caught on the carpet and got crushed between the floor and his body.
White hot pain laced up Peeta's back. The impact was so sudden that Peeta could physically hear the bones in his wing crushing. He screamed in agony, the sound muted behind the bandages. Seneca gasped in alarm and tried to help but as soon as his fingers grazed the injured appendage, Peeta roared in pain and kicked back at him again.
"Oh my goodness, sweetheart, what have you done?" Seneca exclaimed.
Seneca might as well have been talking to himself for all Peeta heard him. The pain was so constant and so agonizing that everything else was beginning to blot out and muffle. Black spots were appearing in his vision and his body shook with agony. He screamed and sobbed behind his gag, face coated in tears within seconds.
Seneca was so panicked that he pulled the bandages off of Peeta's face to try and get an idea of what he was to do. Except once his mouth was freed, all Peeta had the ability to do was scream and sob and yell in pain. Realizing that the angel was beyond saving, Seneca simply reached out for his vial and unscrewed the lid.
~xXx~
Cato and Johanna were tearing the VIP platform apart when they heard it. As soon as they'd dealt with the bartender they'd ran up to where Seneca and Peeta had previously been; kicked everyone out; and tore the place apart trying to find a secret passage way or a hidden door. They obviously hadn't left the platform because if they had, Johanna or Cato would have instantly noticed so the only reasonable explanation was that Seneca had a hidden room.
A scream so loud that it made the entire club fall silent ripped through the air. Except where everyone else shrugged it off, Cato instantly recognized it.
"That was Peeta!" he exclaimed, darting off in the direction in which the scream had come from.
"There's nothing back there but a wall!" Johanna shouted, following after him.
"Or we're just meant to think that!" Cato shouted back. As soon as he reached the back wall he planted his boot into the black cushioned area. He kicked open an invisible door, one that had been designed to blend into whatever background it was put against.
"A chameleon spell," Johanna breathed. "How did we not notice that?"
"It must have been hidden," Cato answered. He darted through the door and down the single white corridor that lay beyond. Johanna followed, Temperance following close behind. There was only one door at the end of the corridor. A green door. The closer they got to this door, the louder the screams got.
Cato didn't wait a beat before kicking open the door. On the other side was an office like area. The screaming exploded into an almost unbearable volume, so much so that Cato thought his ear drums were going to burst. He barely took in any of the surroundings because the first thing he noticed was that the entire room stank of burning. And the burning was coming from the floor.
Seneca hovered over Peeta like a mad scientist doing an experiment. He was pouring something onto his captive's wings, along the joint connecting them to his back. Smoke was coming from Peeta's skin and the feathers were beginning to char. Peeta was screaming in agony, his bound hands clawing at the floor to try to escape.
Cato processed this all in a millisecond. He marched over to Seneca and kicked the bastard up the chin, sending him flying backwards before he even had time to process that there were intruders in his office. The vial of burning liquid flew out of the man's hand and smashed against the opposite wall, causing the wallpaper to moult and fall off in charred shards.
Johanna jumped from the door to the desk to Seneca's body and stamped down on his throat before he could get up. The angel obsessive yelped in surprise but didn't make another move to get up. "Give me an excuse why I shouldn't crush your throat into the floor you psychotic bastard!" she roared.
Cato was on the floor by Peeta in an instant. While he untied the bandages around Peeta's wrists, Temperance tugged impatiently on the ones around his ankles. Peeta was trembling like crazy and was still screaming even though he was losing his voice. Smoke still came from his wing, which thankfully hadn't come free of his back, and it took Cato a moment to notice that it was actually broken, not just burned.
"Fuck, Peeta, what happened?" Cato muttered.
"You still need me to tell you how to get rid of the purity, remember?" Seneca shouted hysterically, desperate not to have his throat broken by Johanna.
"Well then tell us how!" Johanna roared back.
"There's nothing I can do!" Seneca replied desperately. "He'll have to have his virginity taken from him! Properly, I mean. Not just having a freaky fuck with Snow that doesn't get rid of it. It's the only way, I swear!"
Cato swore to himself. Well, what the hell were they supposed to do now? Johanna shouted angrily and kicked Seneca in the gut to elevate her rage. "Fuck that!" she snapped. She spun around and kicked the desk as well. She pushed it out of her way, her strength causing it to smash into the far wall.
"Stay on the floor or you're dead, fucker," she threatened. She knelt down beside Cato and assessed the damage quickly. "What's happened?"
"His wing is burned near the joint and by the look of it broken," Cato said.
"What would you get from breaking it, you creep?!" Johanna threw her head over her shoulder to demand from Seneca.
"I didn't!" Seneca insisted frantically. He sat up but didn't make a move to stand up, paying heed to Johanna's threat of imminent death. "He tried to escape from me and he crushed it himself!"
Cato rubbed a hand over his face and groaned tiredly. Of course Peeta tried to escape. He cared too much about his wings to allow some psychotic collector to rip them off him. Now he had unintentionally damaged himself. "Peeta," he said softly, "Peeta, you have to stand up."
"Cato, it hurts!" Peeta shouted back, clearly not in the mood. Cato couldn't blame him for that because he had been through a lot in the past half hour.
"I understand that but we can't stay here." Cato gently touched Peeta's arm and asked, "Can you stand?"
"No!" Peeta snapped. He choked on a sob and curled up into a ball. "It's never going to heal. I'll never fly again!"
Johanna fell back onto her butt and massaged her temples. "Cato, I'm going to guard the door because if I keep watching this I'm going to do something I'll regret to Seneca." She didn't let Cato answer her as she simply stood up and left. Temperance followed, head hung low in despair.
Cato tried to touch Peeta again but the injured angel slapped his hand away from him. Smoke erupted from Peeta's palm and his skin singed away. "Don't touch me, Cato," he snapped.
"Peeta, calm down," Cato begged. "I'm trying to help you."
Peeta crawled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the carpet. His uninjured wing stood up proudly, twitching at the pain its partner. The broken one, however, jutted out to one side. The bone had pierced through the skin and peeked out through the ruffled feathers. The burned joint was blackened and smouldering, grey blood seeping out of the cuts.
Seeing Peeta so distraught was distressing for Cato. It was odd because he was used to seeing people in pain. He lived in the dimension of pain, suffering and torture. Witnessing this sort of thing should have replenished him but instead he made him feel ill. Johanna felt it too. That was why she left the room. Was hanging around Peeta-a being of goodness from heaven-for too long causing the innocence of it all to rub off on them?
"I'm never going to fly again," Peeta whispered into the carpet.
"Now don't be silly, of course you are," Cato contradicted.
"No I won't! I can't heal myself and I'll forget everything about flying."
Cato frowned. "Isn't it like riding a bike? You never forget it?"
Peeta shook his head despondently. "It won't heal correctly."
Cato chewed his lip anxiously. There were something he could do but he didn't know if Peeta would let him. "Demons have healing abilities . . . If you can't do it, maybe I can."
Peeta's shoulders shook as he tried to stop crying. "No," he muttered. "It won't work."
"Well we don't know if we don't try, will we?" Cato placed a hand on the small of Peeta's back and held the other over his broken wing. "Just stay still, okay?" Peeta did the opposite and squirmed under Cato's hand. "Peeta, stop it. I'm trying to help."
"You can't help me!" Peeta staggered to his feet and groaned in agony as his wing drooped to the floor. He glared at Seneca and stumbled to the door. Cato scowled at the stubborn angel and stood up as well. Of course Peeta was going to try and be difficult. He was too proud to allow anyone else to help him, especially a demon.
The darkness threatened to swell up inside him. It insisted that Peeta was being ungrateful, that Cato should just kill him now. Do away with the purity ordeal, shove him into hell so Lucifer could smell him and punish him. Cato and Johanna could sort the situation out on their own. The evil consumed Cato and his eyes flashed back. He crossed the room in two long strides and shoved Peeta into the shut door. Peeta screamed in surprise, his front slamming hard into the hard wood.
"You discriminating little bastard," Cato snapped. "Why do you always refuse help? Do you think you're better than me? Do you think you're better than Johanna? Just remember that you aren't the better one in this situation. You're the odd one out. You're the one treading on line ice."
"Are you really doing this again? Really?" Peeta screamed back. He was fed up. He knew Cato's darkness was constantly there and could overcome him at any second. But now? Why now?!
"I have the advantage, I can kill you as easily as this!" Cato threw his hand behind him and shot a column of fire at Seneca. The inferno consumed the man and swallowed him whole. It happened so fast the man didn't have a chance to scream. Seconds later his charred bones fell to the floor, lying in a pile of ash. "So don't you dare cross me!"
Cato's fingers dug into Peeta's back, keeping him pinned to the door, and he shook his head. He had to win back control of his own mind and body. Inside his head, the darkness tried to consume his mind. However, the sane side of himself fought back, grabbing at the malevolent parts of his being and stuffing them to the back of his head.
Forcing his hand back up to Peeta's broken wing, Cato fought his evil nature and ignited his healing power. Peeta roared in agony as his wing began to throb, each beat burning like fire coursed through his veins. Cato held fast to him when he tried to pull away, pushing him harder against the door to keep him in place. The bones rearranging themselves in Peeta's wing was agonizing for him but no matter how hard he thrashed Cato held onto him, making sure the job got done fully.
This simple act of kindness was enough to allow Cato to push his inner demon away. It weakened him but he used his final conserve of strength to finish off healing. As soon as the job was done he collapsed to his knees, exhausted. Peeta jumped back from the door, shocked at how the burn of Cato's healing powers-how it took his breath away and felt like a knife stabbing him multiple times in the wing-had actually healed him completely.
Peeta looked at Cato's state in alarm. "Cato!" he exclaimed.
Johanna burst into the room. "Oh fuck Cato, what have you done?!" she yelled.
"I healed him," Cato replied weakly.
"Cato, what the hell?! That goes against everything you are you idiot!" Johanna shouted. She tried to pull Cato to his feet but his knees gave out as soon as he stood on two feet. "You've drained your life force. You're going to have to sleep . . . you won't be able to move anywhere until you do."
Peeta fell to his knees and wedged his arms under Cato's armpits. "I've got you," he said. "If you have to sleep here, you'll sleep outside on one of the VIP couches."
"I'm fine," Cato mumbled drowsily.
"Shut up," Peeta replied. Temperance bit down on the door handle and pulled the door open for him. "You helped me, it's my turn to help you."
"What about the clubbers? They're going to murder us if they find out we've killed Seneca," Johanna said nervously, pointing to the pile of bones and ashes that used to be the obsessive freak.
"They don't have to know. Just say he's indisposed," Peeta gritted out between his teeth. Cato was heavy but Peeta had been given just enough strength from Snow to drag him out of the corridor and out into the VIP platform. Peeta ignored the churning sensation he felt in his gut, having been in the presence of death threatening to take its toll. Peeta refused to allow it, grinding his teeth harder together and lifting Cato onto the couch.
"Rest up big guy," Johanna said, falling onto the chair beside Cato and patting his back.
Peeta knelt down in front of Cato and laid his head down beside him. "You saved me," he whispered. "I'm nothing without my wings. If I don't have them I'm nothing but Snow's plaything."
Cato's eyes were fluttering with fatigue but he managed a small smile. "You're more than that," he said sleepily. "With or without wings." The demon didn't say anything more before he fell asleep.
Peeta adjusted his sitting position by the couch and leaned his head against the couch beside Cato's.
He wasn't going anywhere.
A/N: Let me know what you think? :)
