Page 29 of Touched By Darkness

“Routine?”

“You know, a ritual to get you in the mood?”

“Are you some weird stalker killer?”

Now he laughs. “I’m an ancient fallen angel, sugar. Of course, I have developed a routine after hundreds of years of hunting humans.”

“First, don’t ever call me ‘sugar’ again.”

“And secondly?”

“I don’t know. Stop being weird. You’re supposed to be scary. Don’t go hurting my first impressions of you. Remember the monster who stalked my nightmares for weeks on end? Where’s that guy?”

“Oh, you’ll see him come out to play soon,” he replies with a dark smile as we stop outside one of the houses. There is indeed a white picket fence and perfectly trimmed rose bushes.

“What are we doing here?”

Amenadiel flashes a hint of fang as he points to the house. “I present to you an American middle-class family who live on a boringly safe street, drive a predictably safe family car, save food stamps like they’re going out of fashion, and who cook their every meal according to a meal planner, which they prepare a week in advance, if not two. Their lives are the epitome of predictable.”

“So?”

“So,” he starts, grinning down at me. “We’re going to create a little bit of mayhem and chaos.”

“We’re not going to hurt them, are we?”

His voice is smoke and ashes as he starts walking up the driveway. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

I run after him and try to pull him to a stop, but he’s too big and too strong to budge. “Stop, Amenadiel. We’re not going to hurt an innocent family.”

Shaking me off like an annoying child clinging to his leg, he turns to me on the first step on the porch. “Do you want to learn how to shoot firebolts or not?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“No, buts. There is no easy way to let the darkness in. You just have to open yourself up to it and let go.”

“By killing people?”

His cheeks puff up, and he blows out a tired breath before rubbing his eyes. “It’s like dealing with a toddler. Look, precious little angel,I was from heaven once too, alright? I know firsthand how cruel this seems. And how unfair it is to spill the blood of the innocent, yadda, yadda. But this is what it means to be a fallen angel. We’re not good or kind. Everything in nature has a balance, and both good and evil play vital roles in the tapestry. Good cannot exist without evil and vice versa. God cannot exist without the Devil.”

“Is your little impassioned speech supposed to sway me into killing innocent people in cold blood?”

“Who would you rather kill? You have to feed, Angel. It’s in your nature now. Would it sit better with you if we broke into a prison and fed on murderers and rapists?”

“Hmm, good question. Let me think about it for a while.” I pretend to mull it over for all of two seconds before flashing him my most charming smile. “Yes, Amenadiel. It sounds like a much more preferable plan.”

“Alright then. Murderers and child molesters, it is.” He walks past me down the driveway. “Good luck trying to impress Daemon with a matchstick flame that flickers out in the slightest breeze.”

Growling, I stomp my foot like a two-year-old. “Fine!”

The triumphant smile on Amenadiel’s face rubs me the wrong way as he strides back to the porch.

“Please explain to me why this situation will be more useful than inmates?”

With his hand on the handle, he smirks at me over his shoulder. “You’ll soon find out for yourself.” Then he turns the handle and opens the door. “Did I mention they’re predictable? Don’t even lock their front door.”

I reluctantly follow him inside, my eyes closing briefly when I hear feminine laughter up ahead. I can’t believe we’re doing this. I’ve killed before. Been caught up in my own darkness. But this is different. This is tangible evil. I can feel it seeping in through my pores and blackening my heart. My vision slowly turns red, and my incisors throb painfully as we step into the living room.

The woman screams when she spots us, and her husband shoots up from the couch. Their kids are nowhere around. Probably asleep upstairs.

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