“Exactly.” Angel grabbed a black raincoat from a chair on the other side of the room and handed it to me. “You and I are going to be way stronger. Our paths are one. We will be together for a long time.”
I pulled on the jacket and flung off the wet sheet. Angel’s eyes met mine. I frowned and pointed to Dante as he stood outside the room talking to a Vamp next to him. “So what’s his plan?”
“Who cares? He’ll do what Vamps do and try to make his position seem better than it is.” She winked at me. “But you and I know the truth.”
“Do you have her calm now?” Dante yelled.
“Yes. She’s okay,” Angel called back and continued to focus on me.
“I’m going to kill him,” I whispered to her, not breaking eye contact.
“Why?”
Her voice whispered in my head. I cringed.
“Stop that. Don’t flinch like that.”
This time, her voice sounded louder.
“Don’t make it seem like we’re doing something weird.”
I stiffened my body and plastered a calm mask on my face as Dante gave orders to another Vamp near him.
“Why do you want to kill him now, Lanore? Shouldn’t we work with him until we don’t need him?”
Her voice came out clear in my mind as if she was speaking aloud.
“Because of Dante, MeShack is dead,”
I thought.
“He is? Are you sure?”
Angel leaned her bald head to the side, concern etched on her face.
“Touch the back of your neck. Is his claim still there?”
“How do you know about the claim?”
“I’m bald with crazy eyes and no forehead brand. I know shit!”
Her voice bounced around. “
Just touch your damn neck, so we can decide if we’re going to kill Dante or not.”
I swallowed and whispered, “Okay.”
Lifting my hand, I took my time, terrified at what I might find.
END
If you enjoyed this book, you might also enjoy the following excerpt from an urban fantasy novella, available now.
DON’T CALL ME ANGEL
by Alicia Wright Brewster
• CHAPTER ONE •
I must get out.
Pounding music and stomping feet vibrated through the walls of the cavern. I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the loose dirt falling from the ceiling into the narrow space around me, a new shower with each hammering rhythm. After almost two centuries, I’d never grown accustomed to the constant din down here. It must have been part of the magic of Hell that I’d never grown accustomed to anything.
The scent of sulfur burned my nostrils and stung my eyes as I wiped the sweat streaming down my face. A pent-up scream sat in my chest, as it had for as long as I could remember. Even when I let it out and shouted for hours, it still sat there, and the only thing I seemed to accomplish was to make myself hoarse. I’d stopped screaming long ago.
A dim light filled all the spaces, same as it had the century before. It was just enough that I could see the outlines of small creatures as they scuttled along the floor. Their legs twisted at odd angles, and their claws scraped against the ground. One brushed past my feet. Its beady eyes glared at me, glowing red in the dark.
A faint thump echoed behind me. I swept up a rock from the floor and threw it at Alden as he followed me through the tunnel. “Wait,” I hissed at him.
I held my breath and tiptoed behind the angel of light hurrying ahead of us through the cavern. He was a visitor, unlike Alden and me; we’d been cast into this place long ago.
A soft halo surrounded the bright angel and threw long shadows against the cavern walls. Every ten seconds or so, the angel spun around to check the space behind him. But these tunnels were so familiar to me. I pressed myself and Alden against the wall and wrapped my dark wings around us to blend with the shadows I knew so well.
The bright angel halted and turned his face upward to the ceiling. In my early days down here, I would claw at those ceilings until I scraped my fingernails off—until I scraped my flesh off, and the white bone shone through. But he didn’t belong down here, so this place couldn’t hold him, just as it couldn’t permit my escape.
His halo of light expanded upward. The ceiling above him parted, leaving a circle just over his head. The angel’s feet left the ground, and he floated into the opening.
His head disappeared through the hole, followed by his torso and his waist. I counted the seconds as he glided upward. When only his feet hung below the opening, I spread my wings and beat them backward. My feathers filled the width of the cavern as I shot upward, closer to my goal. The pace of my heart doubled.
When his feet disappeared above, the hole in the ceiling began to shrink. Dirt tumbled back into place, filling my only means of escape. I stretched toward it. My hand entered the opening just before it clamped shut, trapping my forearm in the ceiling of the cavern.
I hung in the cavern by my arm, my wings spread out around me. My feet dangled into ten feet of empty space. I had to go
up
. I had to go
out
. It could be decades before another bright angel came down here for the ongoing negotiations between Heaven and Hell. If this didn’t work, I’d have to come up with a whole new plan, and I was out of ideas.
With my free hand, I clawed at the ceiling around my arm. Chunks of rock fell into my face. My arm slipped down a couple inches, and I froze. I willed myself not to cough and to stay still until I was sure my place in the ceiling would hold.
Careful to move as little as possible, I scraped at the ceiling again, flapping my wings just enough to push myself upward as I loosened more dirt. As I flapped, the wind I created inside the tunnel stirred up dust all around me. I blinked rapidly at the dust particles stinging my eyes. My hair flipped around my face, and I brushed it out of the way as I worked at the ceiling.
My fingers burned, but I was loosening the dirt around my wrist. With every new clump that fell, the beat of my wings pushed me higher. When both my arms met open air beyond the cavern, I dug my fingertips into the earth above and pulled.
Rough hands clutched my calves, and I heaved both myself and Alden upward. My face emerged on the outside. Jagged rocks and sticks in the ground cut into me as I dragged my body through the cavern ceiling. I kicked and beat my wings and scrambled the rest of the way, until I collapsed on the ground above. Alden crawled out behind me and shook rocks and soil from his wings.
With a rumble and shaking that made my teeth clatter, the ground filled up and closed off the cavern that was Hell.
My arms ached, and for a while, I lay still with my wings splayed out at my sides. When I could move again, I coughed until I no longer felt the grit of dirt particles in my throat. Then I dragged myself to my feet and waited for Alden to do the same.
Everything was gray here, between Hell and Earth. Alden’s wings, usually green, looked the identical shade of gray as his skin, the ground, and the air. It was the same for my own wings and hair, which were usually a blend of black and violet. I lifted my hands to my face. My brown skin looked just as monotone as everything else.
Above my head, empty space seemed to expand forever. I squinted to catch sight of a ceiling, or sky, but there was nothing up there. In front of me, to my right, and to my left, more of the deep endlessness spread out around me. I spun around, and there it was.
The gate.
Hollis guarded the gate today. I’d seen his colors once, in the light from one of the viewing portals. His normally pale blue wings and hair were the color of ash to my eyes now. He watched, open-mouthed, as I sauntered toward him. His hand clasped around something attached to his belt, his forearm muscles tense.
Alden’s mingled excitement and fear pulsed against my back, so I turned to shoot him my best disapproving glare. Hollis would sense Alden’s feelings too, and I couldn’t have him doubting that we had the upper hand.
“You couldn’t help a girl out?” I strode toward Hollis with my chin raised high.
He gaped at me, shaking his head back and forth with a bulging-eyed expression on his face that looked a lot like desperation. I knew the feeling.
“How did you get up here?” he asked. “You can’t be up here.”
I kept moving forward until I stood within a foot of him. He towered over me, several inches taller and twice my width. But I had the advantage here. I’d set this plan in motion decades ago, and Hollis had always been part of it.
I stood on tiptoes, put my mouth close to his ear, and whispered, “Let me out.”
“Y-you know I can’t.” He jerked away from me, pressing his back possessively against the gate. His eyes darted back and forth between me, Alden, and the ground from which we’d just emerged. “You have to go back down.” Then to Alden, “Make her go back down.”
I smirked. “You owe me.”
His thoughts played out behind his eyes. Even if I didn’t have my empathy, a power belonging to all angels, even the forsaken ones, I’d know exactly what he was feeling. Trapped.
There was little with which to barter in Hell, so we traded debts. I’d collected many over the years, since I was in a unique position to provide favors. Hollis’s debt was my most prized. And today, it had come due. I let one corner of my mouth quirk upward.
“You didn’t tell me that’s what the d-debt was for.” Hollis’s voice shook. “He’ll skin me.” I could smell fear seeping from his pores. It curled around me like a live thing struggling to escape.
“No. He understands a blood debt. Besides,” I lowered the pitch of my voice to sound as threatening as I could, “if I’m still here when he returns, everyone will know you’ve reneged on your debt. We can’t have the system breaking down, now can we?” My gaze dropped to his fisted hand. “Every demon. Every monster. Every forsaken. They’ll all know you refused me.” I flashed him a grin. “Because I’ll tell them.”
His shoulders slumped and he unclenched his fingers from around the key. His shaking hand fumbled to detach it from his belt, but it finally came free.
He jiggled the key in the stubborn lock, and all the while, my fingers itched with anticipation. I tossed a look over my shoulder and around my back to make sure the three of us were still alone. The lock clicked, and I sucked in a breath. My heart pounded against my chest as if trying to escape the cage of my ribs.
The gate opened.
Gray filled the space on the other side of the gate too, but that didn’t matter. I could go almost anywhere from here. Alden and I shook hands and nodded our silent goodbyes. I’d done my research; both of us would be able to pass through to places we’d seen through the portals and could fully envision. He’d look for me on the other side, but we didn’t know where or how we’d find each other.
I fixed an image in my mind of the place I’d watched most when I was allowed to spy on the human world through the viewing portals. I could visualize it well enough to create a gateway. With that picture fixed in my mind, I stepped through the gate.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
of The Burning Bush
Kenya Wright currently resides in Miami with her three amazing, overactive children, a supportive, gorgeous husband, and three cool black cats that refuse to stop sleeping on her head at night.
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