Page 10 of Crimson Promises
I stretched my arm as far as I could. The cylinder was still warm from Jos. My ribs wanted to crack open but now wasn’t the time. I pivoted towards Azrael, clutching the magical weapon. It was my only chance at salvation. The irony of that was not lost on me.
I raised themagicumabove my head and pointed it at the archangel. A long time ago, I had heard Jos’s father usepati et perirewhen disciplining a member of their household staff who had stolen from them. I had been sneaking out of Jos’s room. His parents had instructed him to stop being my friend many years prior.
With every ounce of energy I had, I yelled the incantation, “Pati et perire." Avenging his death was the only thing left I could do.
For a brief moment, the ruby glowed, and like the ruby, I lit up with hope. Only for it to falter a few seconds later.
“Pathetic.” Azrael cackled. “I don’t know why you would even try. That relic was forged as a weapon by an archangel. It was loaned to the Fidus family by me. Like the other relics, this could not be used without the relic recognizing youraurumand permitting you to wield it. I’ll be taking that back now. Evidently, it has fallen into less than favorable hands.” Azrael pried the last piece of Jos from my fingertips. I vowed to ensure his name was not lost to history and reclaim themagicum.
I didn’t resist as Azrael again unsheathed his blade. Ready to accept the punishment I so rightfully deserved. There was nothing left to live for. We had lost.
He was close enough that I could hear the thrum of the blade’s power. “Where you are headed, you will beg for the serenity of death. Dying is too kind a punishment for you.”
No one else I loved would suffer for my choices. I welcomed the darkness of the abyss with open arms.
* * *
The trill of my cell phone yanked me out of the memory, which I gladly shook off. I scanned the gloom, trying to pinpoint the shrill sound, and paused. Where did I put that damned thing?One would think it would be easy to find in such a tiny apartment. Then my attention caught on something. Between the sliver of the microwave and the cabinet, there was a soft light.There it is.
Striding to it, I palmed the phone and slid it into one of the only two pairs of jeans I owned. Never have I understood the human desire to collect copious amounts of clothes to hoard in their already tiny living spaces. They chose to crowd themselves on top of one another in municipalities with no space or air.
I walked over to the window. Aurora’s light was still off. She wouldn’t be up for at least a few more hours. I glanced down to the entrance of her building. Victor’s shift had ended, and the nighttime doorman had assumed his post. A weight settled in my gut as I glanced at the structure. As much as I hated leaving her safety in the doorman's hands, I had to go. At least someone was watching over the building until my return. I headed to the closet, threw on my Doc Martens and leather jacket, and left the apartment.
The cool air kissed my temple as I revved the clutch of my Ducati on the coast’s winding roads.
My thoughts drifted to Aurora, wondering what she was wearing cozy beneath the covers. And other dangerous, inappropriate things.
I revved the clutch, pulling my attention back to the road spread out in front of me.
My wings itched to be set free. Glide on the evening’s south-westerly wind, past the city, and onto the ocean, where I had the freedom to dip low enough to feel the mist of the water. I straightened my spine; now wasn’t the time for that. In Cannon Beach, it had been more manageable, less populated. Here in Arch Cape, there was too much activity. Wasn’t worth the risk of being spotted. Sometimes, it was easier to pretend to be a mortal, while Aurora was the only one I knew who had The Sight, you never know who else could be watching. The bike was safer.
I climbed off, let down my kickstand, and began waiting…
The stench of fish gave the air a pungent smell—something I did not need to endure for ten minutes. Leaning against the side of my Ducati, I tapped my foot against the pavement.
I should have known he would be late—that was nothing new. We had been meeting at the same run-down warehouse for twenty years. This was the first time we were to meet by the town's docks. I was surprised the archangel picked a semi-public meeting spot.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Out of the mist, a concealed figure towered against the colorful stalls filled with chatting customers during the day. Against the foggy evening, they looked washed out and eerie.
Michael. Defender of Light. Heaven’s mighty protector and fiercest warrior. The angel closest to God was consorting with a fallen angel.
He lifted a gloved hand and beckoned me towards him. On earth, he was as poised and regal as he was in Heaven. He still commanded instead of requested. His stance was hip-width apart, ready for the unexpected. Prepared. From ten feet away, I could see the hilt of his sword poke up through the specially made slat of his coat—designed to provide easy access.
Withoutnoxvision, Michael’s presence would be undetectable to humans.Noxwas available for any angel to command wordlessly. It was as inherent to us as our wings, resulting in a cerulean tint washing over our vision. Shades of blue outlined anything dark to amplify our surroundings. Right now, Michael looked like he was a part of Tron. It provided an advantage when trying to remain concealed in the mortal realm and was one of the few abilities granted equally across Heaven’s hierarchies.
I halted a few steps away from the angel. While he was my temporary ally, I didn’t trust him one bit. He was an angel with secrets, even if the rest of the heavenly realm had yet to catch on. Keeping a wide berth seemed like the sensible thing to do.
“Report,” he barked.
“Why, hello to you too.”
“Report.”
I rolled my eyes. For the first few years, I puked before and after every meeting. My history with archangels was tumultuous. But while Michael was always short and gruff, he was never vindictive as some of his kinsmen could be. Or it could be the fact that I was on his side. As each year progressed, I began toying with him more minutely, pushing the limits of his annoyance. It was one of my few pastimes of enjoyment in this deal.
“Did you miss me?” I extended my hand to jab his arm but withdrew it back midair.Probably not the best idea to poke someone who has the literal ability to smite me.
