Wrote non-stop for two days to post this.
-collapses-
Enjoy! :D
Dreams of heaven, pure and clean, shattered around me as someone shifted beside me. Keeping my eyes glued shut, I reached blindly out, hand searching for the familiar planes of Fang's broad chest. All I got was a fistful of sheets. As my eyebrows knitted together, my lids fluttered open to allow my gaze to teeter around the room, a small migraine methodically begging to work its way through my head. Sighing softly, I forced myself to sit up.
Across the room, the light under Fang's bathroom door was pooling about the carpet as water ran from inside. My cheeks heated up of their own accord as I thought about Fang taking a shower with only a weak, wooden door separating me from him. Even after all these years, he could still make me nervous.
With a huff, I flopped back down in the mound of pillows and sheets and shut my eyes again, reveling in the butterflies rousing in my stomach. Lying there like that, I could almost pretend like Fang and I were a normal, human couple living together in a small studio apartment. This morning would only be the first of many mornings of waking up like this before we lazily went downstairs to cook breakfast together. After teasing me about my bedhead, he would give me a peck on the lips and go off to work, leaving me to quickly pull myself together for the waitress job I scored at the small diner down the street. We'd come home to each other's arms, laugh over a dinner I managed to sneak out of the kitchen at the end of my shift, then hold each other in bed, talking until midnight. Then we'd get up and start all over again, day after day; a modest, but passionate life.
The little fantasy brought a lilt to my lips. Even though I would never give up the multitude of centuries I've had to be with the love of my life, sometimes I do wish we could drop all the Archangel duties and just live among the humans. I'd be able to live a hundred years with my love, watching our grandchildren grow up, then taking my last breath in his arms.
A warm, gentle current of sparks smoothed the crease between my brows. When I opened my eyes, Fang's soft opaque eyes were gazing back at me.
"Did you mean for me to see that little vision of yours?" he asked, a small smile lifting his features.
I shrugged and traced an absent pattern into his bare shoulder. "Just didn't see a point in putting up my walls."
He was silent for a long while, watching his fingers gingerly brush my mess of hair into smooth waves. Then, just as I was beginning to feel my headache recede, he said, "It's funny that you wish we could be human together." His eyes grew fond. "I remember how, back when we inhabited heaven, me and you would always fight over the relevancy of mortals. You were always so worried about the welfare humans, but otherwise found them boring; whereas I would drag you with me to watch them for hours every single day."
Though his words tugged at my memory, I couldn't quite dredge a picture up to match. I cupped his face in my tiny hand, smiling. "How do you remember that sort of thing?"
"You just Bloomed a few days ago; I Bloomed ten years ago," he said, shrugging.
I blanched. "Ten years? Has that happened before?"
"Yes." A laugh escaped him, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You have a bad habit of making me wait for you, you know that?"
Laughing along with him, I gave a quick peck on the lips, then rolled out from beneath him. I felt his eyes burning into my back the entire way to the bathroom.
Tease, I heard float into my mind right before I slipped inside.
Smirking, I gave a slow, purposeful wink, and closed the door.
"How are you feeling, Uriel?" Nudge was asking Angel, leaning over Gazzy to peer into her downcast blue eyes. Cassiel and Zadkiel. The pair was always the most comforting couple in heaven—according to Fang, that is. Given their wise and compassionate virtues, I had no doubt in my mind that he was right.
Angel forced herself to smile, but kept her gaze trained on her finger circling the rim of her half-empty coffee cup. My heart faltered in my chest watching her. I slipped my hand from Fang's to cut a piece from the waffle Iggy had made, suddenly feeling guilty that my soulmate was sitting right next to me with his sanity intact while hers was prowling the town, hell-bent on killing each and every one of us.
"I guess I wish I at least knew where he was right now," she responded at last. Fang and I shared a glance that was supposed to be kept private, but her soft blue eyes zoned in on us immediately. "What was that for?"
Placing my fork and knife down, I start fiddling with the edge of my shirt. Fang's hand found mine beneath the table again, soothing the jitters that were working through me. "Well, that's actually what we had to talk to you all about." I paused, waiting for everyone's attention, then earnestly launched into the plan Fang and I had quickly thrown together that morning.
"Over the years, we have been at a severe disadvantage with Michael. As we were forced to be killed over and over after regaining our abilities, he has thrived from the energy provided to him by the Underworld. Much dark powers and energies are at any demon's disposal in the Underworld, which is, as you all know, the reason why no demon is allowed to live on earth. They would only bring those dark abilities to this beautiful plane and destroy everything on it. Unfortunately, Michael killed before I was able to chain him in the Underworld where he now belongs. This has given him unlimited access to all those powers while is also able to roam the earth.
"It is because of this banned lifestyle that Michael has discovered a way to permanently kill us all. Listen carefully to what I say: this time, when Michael kills you, your soul will not return to its waiting spot in heaven; it will shatter into oblivion. You will simply disappear from every plane and realm existing.
"That being said, I am sure you are all now well aware of how imperative it is that we survive Michael's advances, preform the proper death ritual, and return back to heaven with Our Lady." I locked eyes with Angel. "Uriel, I am sorry, but Michael must be killed. This will not end unless we do."
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she hung her head so that we would not see them fall. "I understand. I will band with you all in the fight, as well. It is what is required of me."
I stood and swiftly bowed at the waist, emanating respect for this deflated soul in front of me. I was so proud of how strong she had become. "We all appreciate your unyielding support, Uriel."
"What now, then?" asked Iggy.
"Michael is able to sense that we are all here. In fact, I am quite certain that he has been following close behind me for the past five years, knowing that I would lead him to the rest of you. Be aware of the fact that he has most likely been watching you all for quite some time now," answered Fang.
Shuddering, I moved closer to Fang, my stomach churning as I thought of Michael's piercing green eyes grazing my skin as I went about my daily life, completely unaware.
"Max and I agreed the best plan of action would most likely be to send one of us out alone and draw him in as bait, for lack of better term," he continued. "Once he makes himself known, the bait will have to get him in a vulnerable position that will force him to speak instead of lashing out. At that point, the bait will ask him to meet all of us in the forest, where we will not be heard, so that we may talk. We will converse at first, of course, but then we must all ambush him at once so that he is overwhelmed to the point of not being able to fight back before he is killed. He will be suspecting it, but it is our best bet at this point."
The other Archangels slowly began nodding, soaking in the plan. I could tell they weren't entirely satisfied with it, but no one protested for the same reason why I agreed to the plan: we were all out of options. Unfortunately, we were backed up against the wall with our tails tucked between our legs. Ultimately, Michael held the power no one else in the world did: he could kill us all with a few simple words uttered after the fatal blow. Then we'd be out of his hair forever and he would be free to rein terror over the entire world and into heaven. That was something we could not allow to happen.
"I'll do it," whispered Angel. All of our heads swiveled towards her.
"I'm sorry?" I asked, not quite sure if I had heard her right.
She looked up from the cold coffee wavering in her cup and gazed at me with ferocity igniting her gaze. "I said I'll do it. I'll be the bait."
Shock absorbed any reply from the room. We all just stared at her with the same look in our eyes; a look that spoke immeasurable respect and admiration for this courageous women. Without speaking, we all stood from our seats, and bowed our heads, joining our hands around the circle. Power coursed from our palms, flooding through the chain of hands to lend Angel the warmth and strength she would undoubtedly need in the upcoming hours.
From that somber position, we did not move until the food turned cold and birds outside stopped singing.
Hours later, after many preparations, the seven Archangels stood together in the foyer of the home to see Angel off on her mission. We had her clothed in a nondescript black pea coat, black leggings, and sturdy black combat boots. It wasn't the most fashionable statement I had ever thrown together, but it was practical: dark color to draw attention away, long coat to hide the Archangel blade we had retrieved from Fang's infamous double-lock wooden chest, and boots that she easy to move in. Her blond hair was pulled pack in a severe ponytail, not allowing for even one piece of hair to escape and distract her.
As we all tried cheering her up with mindless chitter-chatter and encouraging words, her cobalt blue eyes kept flickering out the window, judging the moon's point in the sky and the brightness of the stars. Eventually, after we had all exhausted any sort of comforting tidbit we had to offer, she held up a hand and jutted out her chin.
"It is time for me to go," she proclaimed. Looking us each in the eye, she continued: "I will not fail you."
Without allowing us to pipe one more word in, she whirled on her heel and left the house, leaving a cold winter breeze in her wake. Joining hands once more, we all solemnly closed our eyes, bowed our heads, and sent a prayer up to Our Lady to give Uriel even more strength than we had already provided her. She would need every ounce she could get.
APOV
Shaking my head clear of my partners' overly-cheerful faces, I climbed into Fang's sleek, black Infinity G37 and rested my forehead against the cool steering wheel. The heat was on full-blast, but I hardly even registered it against the frost that was hardening over my heart. A migraine pounded rhythmically in my head, trying to compete with the rush of thoughts bombarding my mind. Several times I tired channeling my virtues to help soothe my emotions, but for the first time in my existence, it wasn't working. Not that I was all that surprised. Michael had always had that sort of unnerving effect on me.
Huffing out a breath of frustration, I put the car in reverse and peeled out of the driveway with haste. The drive was luxuriously smooth the entire way to the bar despite the thin, cracking layer of ice coating the road. My foot was pressed all the way down on the accelerator, my eyes not even bothering to check the speedometer to see how fast I was going. All I cared about was getting this night over with.
It wasn't long before I was coasting to a stop in the gravelly parking lot of the shadiest bar in town. People got into all kinds of trouble there, so it wouldn't be a big deal to go in underage and lure Michael into the trap. We'd hardly get one glance.
Checking my appearance in the mirror once, I slipped a pair of dark shades over my eyes that were too innocent to be normal around this neck of the woods. A poker face was slipped over my features, and I got out of the car to walk casually over to the back door of the bar.
Standing in front of the rotting door with his arms crossed tautly over his chest was a burly man with a graying beard and receding hairline. He looked me up and down, a sneer beginning to curl into his lips. "Run along, little girl," he ordered. "Ain't got nothing of use for you here."
From a leather strap secured tightly around my thigh, I tore free a knife and held its dull edge up against the man's neck. It pressed into the fatty skin there, bobbing along with his Adam's apple. I glared at him from behind my shades, a glower emanating from my features.
"I'm getting real sick of people treating me like a child," I enunciated, pressing the blade harder into his flesh.
Holding up his hands in a sign of peace, he produced a key from the pockets of his oil-stained jeans and unlocked the door. It swung open a crack, and he made a gesture inside. "Just a joke, I swear."
I stared at him for one more tense moment, then I strapped the knife back against my thigh and pulled back. Nodding curtly at him, I slipped behind the open door and immersed myself in the sweaty crowd of drunken civilians. A hypnotic beat was reverberating through the structure, shaking the decaying walls so much I was afraid they'd topple down. Laughing throngs of people pushed me as naturally in the direction of the bar as a river's current would push along a stray leaf. Calmly dispersing from the edge of the fray, I perched in a torn pleather chair at the bar, trying my hardest not to coax anymore stuffing out of the seat than what was already frothing out. A whistle brought the bartender over, where I ordered a simple glass of water. Just because I made it into the bar didn't mean I was going to take advantage of it.
After the glass was placed on the bar in front of me, condensation already dripping down onto the wood lacquer, I slid my dark shades imperceptibly down and scanned the chaotic room. Michael, I knew, would not have changed a bit from the last time I had seen him in the sixteenth century. Thinking about how long ago that simpler time was, it seemed an appealing idea to sneak over the counter and snag a bottle of vodka.
But I digress. The exhausted building was so packed with jumping, glistening bodies that, even with my advanced vision, I couldn't discern anyone's face; the most I would ever take in was a quick glance of an expression before the entire scene changed on me. Shrugging, I tuned back to my water and took a dainty sip. Even if Michael wasn't there at the moment, I had no doubt he would show his face soon—there was no way he would miss out on the opportunity to begin his killing spree.
A slight graze of fingertips against my elbow spiked my attention. Peering over the shades of my glasses, I swiveled in my seat, and had to bite my tongue against a gasp.
It was almost unnerving just how little he had changed. His hair was a bit longer now, but everything else was exactly the same, down to the curves of muscles making up his arms—arms that had held me too many times to count; had shielded me against the perils of the world. My heart faltered painfully in my chest as so many memories flashed behind the eyes I had to shut. Otherwise, the flood of memories surely would have shone plainly in my eyes.
"You look like you could use something a little stronger," he spoke, voice still as enchanting as it had been 500 years ago.
Opening my eyes back up, I gave Michael a small smile and twirled my finger around the rim of my water. I shook my head. "I'm not here to drink; just to get away from life."
His head tossed naturally back as he laughed. "I can relate." A pause. "Adam, by the way."
"Angel," I offered, nodding casually.
"'Angel,"' he murmured, looking thoughtful. "I feel as though I've met you before. Do you recognize me at all?"
Remember not to give away the fact that you know what you are already. Demons can sense an Archangel the second the Blooming process begins, before we even realize what's happening to us. Max had said. Because your Blooming process was so quick, he will suspect your memories will have yet to have surface, but he'll still test you to gauge what you know thus far. Lie to him. Make him believe you know absolutely nothing of your true identity yet.
Giving nothing away, I calmly shook my head at him, my ponytail swishing. "I'm sorry, no."
"It must be my imagination, then," he conceded, a fire glinting in the depths of his eyes.
Sensing a lag in the conversation that I couldn't afford, I reached into my pocket and produced a fresh pack of cigarettes that my mother had me buy for her on my way to school that morning. I shook it in front of Michael's face, one of my eyebrows smoothly arching towards my hairline.
"It's been a stressful day for me. Mind if we continue this conversation outside?" I suggested.
"Not at all."
Standing from our seats at the bar, Michael took hold of the crook of my elbow again and helped plow a small path in the mass of people so that we could get outside without too many injuries from the thrashing bodies. He took us out a neglected emergency exit, the system so decayed that it didn't even have the energy to send off the arm as we broke the lock and escaped through. Outside, we were immediately brushed with an icy cool breeze that was refreshing change from the musty, congested air inside the bar. Leading him to the edges of the trees, I motioned once before ducking inside the shadows, traveling far away from the lone, dull red light that hung above the doorway we'd just come from. Michael narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly, but followed without complaint.
"Why do you go out so far from the bar?" he asked once I stopped.
Shrugging, I unwrapped the pack of cigarettes, shoving the wrapper deep in my pocket, and offered him one. When he took one between his full lips, I dug out a lighter at held it carefully up for him.
"The guard has it out for me. The last time I smoked here, he threatened to call the cops, so I've got to hide out here from now on," I answered as he dipped his cigarette down in the flame. He took a long, thoughtful drag off of it before sighing it all out and watching me as I lit mine up.
Though it had been a long time in this life since I had lied, the fabrications were just rolling off of my now. I hardly even blinked as a new one formed—heck, I hadn't even ever smoked, but I clamped down my worries and just took a casual puff from it before turning to scrutinize Michael. As we watched each other, I couldn't help but wonder if he knew it was me. Uriel. The girl that was supposed to be by his side for all of eternity, watching over humanity and ruling aside Our Lady in Heaven. Was he able to discern us Archangels, or did he just kill us before he could find out just exactly who it was that he was murdering once again. Did he even care that these people had once been his comrades? What hurt the me most, standing there under the severe, cryptic moonlight, was the fact that the killing didn't even seem to bother him anymore, not like when he had first been turned into this beast. He had simply stopped caring.
Suddenly, looking at those all-too-familiar features was just too hard for me. I turned my back on him to gaze at the moon longingly. Somewhere far away from here was home, a place where pain ad no stay. What I would have given in that moment to be in Heaven then. There was hot spring concealed on all sides by gorgeous, looming mountains only a mile away from where the Archangels' home was; I was craving a nice, long soak beneath its waters badly. It never failed to absorb all the stress I usually carried around with me.
"It was that bad of a day, huh?" Michael asked suddenly.
I didn't look at him as I spoke, but rather out into the trees around us. "How could you tell?"
"The way your mouth turned down when you space out…well, it reminds me of someone I once knew a long time ago."
Shock rattled through me, making me stiffen imperceptibly as a memory kissed at me.
One hand buried itself in my golden locks as his other fingers traced the curve of my lips. A crease was furrowed between his brows, as if there was nothing else in the world worth focusing on other than me. When I shut my eyes, I felt him kiss both of my lips, gently, as if afraid I matter shatter right there in his hands.
"You're spacing out again," he whispered in the curve of my ear. I shivered, loving the way his voice awoke those childish butterflies in my stomach.
"Sorry," I mumbled back, feeling sleep prodding at me. "It's been a long day."
Shaking my head, I hung my head and took another drag from my cigarette before tossing it to the ground and brutally stomping it out with the toe of my boot. "You sound fond of her."
"I was."
Was. My heart clenched. "Was? What happened?"
He was silent for a long moment that seemed to hang suspended in the air, trapping all my worries in his fist and making them grow. "She went away for a long time, promising to come back. But I never found her again."
Or you just didn't look hard enough, I thought to myself, shutting my eyes against the tense atmosphere that was beginning to grow. Part of me wanted to whirl around, fall in his arms, and convince him to run away with me; the other part of me couldn't get the image of him spilling my friends' blood onto the earth over and over again, every fifty years. It made me…sick—
Abruptly, the edge of a knife was pricking into the skin of my neck, drawing out a thick trail of warm blood that dribbled down between my breasts. My eyes opened calmly, my hands curling into fists at my sides as my body went rigid. His soft lips were at my ear, speaking as gently as they had in the memory I glimpsed earlier.
"I'm sorry to make your day even worse than it already was, but I have a job to get done." A pause. The blade sunk deeper. "Thanks for the cigarette, though."
Every nerve that made up my body was attuned to every muscle and sinew in his body, a silent audience to the inner workers that made him up. The second I felt the first muscle in his shoulder twitch to move the knife clean across my throat, I ripped open my coat, buttons flying off to the frozen ground beneath us. As naturally as I would set a glass of lemonade back on the table, I gripped his arms and flipped him over his back before I could even blink. Before he could register what had just happened, dropped onto his waist, my thighs pressing tight against his ribs in a straddle. I whipped my Archangel sword out from inside my coat and poised it directly above his heart.
I didn't even break a sweat.
Shock was evident in Michael's eyes, and his chest struggled to rise and fall with his breaths under my pressing weight. Warily, he put out a hand and smacked my glasses off my face, gazing fiercely in my eyes, as if searching for something that he knew he wouldn't be able to find. I felt the sadness that rested in the depths of my eyes, and knew he saw it too. I pressed the blade further down, piercing the skin; he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Do you recognize me now, Michael?" I asked softly.
I think he might have tried to hide his surprise, but I would recognize the slight widening in his eyes any day. It was the same reaction he would have every time I kissed him of my own accord, for absolutely no reason at all. Trembling hands reached out and traced the curve of my jaw.
"Uriel," he marveled. "My beautiful girl."
I couldn't help the tears that pricked behind my eyes and welled up to blur my vision, making me press down harder on the blade. "When did you stop you stop caring about us?" One single tear escaped, dripping down as slowly as my lethargic heart felt. "When did you start enjoying the moment your blade pierced through soft flesh?" I hissed, sneering down at him.
His hand dropped as all expression fled from his face. "That's irrelevant."
"Irrelevant," I scoffed. "You became monster because of me—because of our love—and yet now it is all suddenly irrelevant. Do you even care about us anymore?"
"Of course I do," he snapped, eyes flashing. "But obviously you have forgotten." He glanced pointedly at the sword piercing the vulnerable skin just above his heart.
My face softened, and I studied his features. "While I was in Heaven awaiting my rebirth, I would torture myself by watching you take the innocent lives of others. I have never stopped loving you, Michael, as it is part of my name to give unconditional love to all—whether they be deserving or not—but after witnessing the acts you have done, I know what I must do."
As my words soaked in, his lips peeled back, and the jagged teeth that usually remained hidden elongated, glinting threateningly beneath the moonlight. "You're going to severe our soul bond?"
I looked over him, at a tree branch bouncing in the breeze. Snow was beginning to drift from the sky again, but it melted in the air before it could reach the ground.
"You know it's what has to happen," I responded simply. "You have committed crimes too blasphemous for me to overlook."
Claws dug into my skin, pricking several points of blood from the soft flesh of my arms. "You can't do this, Uriel. I love you."
Lowering my sword down to the ground, I gently took his hands in mine and cradled them against my chest. "I know you do," I whispered softly. "But after all this time, all this pain and suffering that you have put through my loving brothers and sisters, I do not think I can love you again. It is too much to ask of me."
Slowly, his fangs retreated, and his claws dulled back down to those calloused hands I had memorized down to the small scar on the left index finger. "Please reconsider, my darling. We can rule together, just as we had planned so many years ago."
I brushed hair out of his emerald eyes. "I will need time to think. Can you meet me inside the forest at the outskirts of town tomorrow at midnight? I shall have your answer by then."
"Of course." Not even a moment's hesitation.
Cupping my forlorn face in his hands, he curled slowly up and pressed his lips against mine. Despite it all, my heart still thundered in my chest as our lips moved in gentle harmony. The gradually crescendoed up to something more dangerous and fierce, his teeth gently tugging at my bottom lip as my head tipped hazily back. I sucked in a breathy gasp and drew back, blindly reaching for my sword once again. Mutely, I stood from his lap, gave him one more fleeting glance, then turned to walk away, the tip of my blade dragging pitifully behind me in the hard dirt.
Halfway through editing, I started nodding off in my chair, so I figured it was time to end it. Sorry if you catch any mistakes, which I know you will.
Quick note: My update schedule is back to running its normal course now that school is beginning to wind itself down. The link to my twitter and email account is also there; feel free to follow me, email me, or shoot me a PM.
Also, really excited to be attending the Iowa Young Writer's Studio this year. If any of you know what that is, then you're awesome. Thanks for the constant support with my writing, guys!
R&R?