A Lost Light (The Bestiary #4)

35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Sunshine

O leander was lost. I could feel it through our lifebond. Her emotions and her mind were in a chaotic state of unease, spiraling out of control. Something about this situation had made her distraught.

The angel seated across the room from her was the source of her unhappiness. I had rarely encountered angels in my existence before I was fused with my host, but I recalled how delicious their energy was. How the rare angel I had been able to catch and devour could sustain me far longer than a human or another supernatural being. The angel before me was radiating power. He would be a feast the likes of which I had not experienced in centuries.

“No, Sunny don't.” Another angel had grabbed my arm, his warm fingers wrapped around my bicep. Our angel. “Don't do it,” he pleaded, his deep voice soft, but urgent.

I regarded him with a raised brow as I felt Andy squirm in her seat. Why shouldn't I eliminate the source of our witch's pain and displeasure? My host agreed with me. He might deny it, but he had barely even put up a token of resistance when I decided to take over and handle matters myself.

Elijah's glowing blue eyes met mine, unflinching. Uncaring what I was. His angelic power was nearly as strong as the other angel's. But it had layers of darkness wrapped around it, tying him to Dyre, and to me. He would be delicious. But not nearly as filling as the other angel, since he was our creation. Besides, I knew Andy would be upset with me if I lashed out at the revenant for daring to challenge me.

Dyre was also attached to him. And putting up with my host's disapproval and sadness wasn't something I enjoyed.

Also, I did like the intensity of the blue eyes that stared into mine. So vivid and alive. It would be a shame if they no longer existed in this world.

“Why?” I asked, instead of draining every angelic soul in the room and using them to bolster my power to dizzying new heights.

Elijah opened his mouth to speak, but Oleander beat him to it. “Stand down, Sunny,” she said firmly, clear warning in her voice.

I sighed. “But he has upset you,” I reasoned. “He deserves his fate.”

She didn't look back at me, but she shook her head. “Not unless they attack first.”

The angelic intruder glanced from Oleander to me, and I smiled, slow and with promise, showing him the blue-black teeth of my host, which always unsettled people. His glowing golden power seemed to shrink, his aura pulling back from mine, as he sensed the predator in the room.

“What evil entity lives inside your necromancer, witch?” he demanded, shooting to his feet as if he could do anything to escape my wrath.

Oleander sighed. “Sit down. He's harmless. For now.” She looked over her shoulder at me, shooting me a glare. “Knock it off.”

My upper lip curling in displeasure, I retreated slightly, pulling in my aura, sharing our body with Dyre more equally. I knew that our eyes would change color, one black, one lavender. And for some reason, that also seemed to unsettle people. Mortals were so easily shaken by the silliest things. Even powerful mortals like these.

The angel glanced around the room warily, as if he expected everyone else to suddenly exhibit signs of possession as well. Andy cleared her throat, and he startled slightly.

“Look,” she said tiredly. “Let's not pretend I'm the right person to decide the fate of the realms or anything. For fuck's sake, I can barely manage not to completely fuck up my own life, let alone the lives of others. But someone has to do something about the war that is brewing—hell, the one that, if we're being honest, is already actively taking place right now and will only escalate. And apparently, the universe is determined that I get involved.”

She paused and swallowed hard, and I could feel through our bond as her wild uncertainty slowly morphed into something like determination. Even if it was a reluctant kind of feeling.

“The only people who are standing up to the corrupt Magean governing body and the growing cult of evil witches are a group of rebels of assorted supernatural heritage with very limited resources. They need— we need—all the help we can get. And if you angelic bastards want to uphold your holy divine image, it seems like now would be a really good time to lend us lesser beings a hand.”

She drew in a deep breath and straightened her spine, and I felt Dyre's admiration for our witch echo my own. “No one wants you assholes taking over the other realms. But if you and your holy host would just sweep in now and then to turn the tide, restore balance and safety to the realms, it would make you look like heroes. Like saviors. Wouldn't that give you a big, yummy burst of power? All that belief?”

The angel slowly sank back into his chair, studying our witch with a sudden intensity that I didn't like, for some reason. I wanted to growl at him and tell him she was my witch and he should go get his own.

Jealousy, Dyre told me, the word laced with cold amusement.

I huffed. I was not afflicted with such silly mortal emotions.

“You are an interesting woman, Oleander Lovell,” the unwelcome angel said at last. “I will agree to offer the assistance of the High Choir, on one occasion. And you will agree to return our artifact the moment it is no longer of use to this cause of yours.”

Andy cleared her throat, and I noticed how all of her lovers unobtrusively moved just a bit closer to her. They didn't like this angel either. I felt mollified by that fact. Clearly, I wasn't jealous of the angelic prick. I was simply showing due concern for my witch, the way anyone would.

They're all sensing his interest in her too, Dyre said smugly in our shared mind. You're still jealous. It's just that they all are too. You're all morons.

I huffed. Nonsense.

Don't worry, Dyre said, his mental voice almost cheerful. I'll kill him myself if he so much as thinks of touching her. He'd make a good corpse guard for the back courtyard.

I chuckled out loud. Then I realized that everyone in the room had stopped to stare at me. “Oh. Carry on,” I said with a dismissive wave.

Oleander shook her head and turned back to the angelic interloper. “Don't mind him. You get used to it. Eventually.”

The angel glanced around the room again, studying each of us in turn before returning his attention to our witch. “Our intelligence and reports from your world insist that you have enslaved these creatures, bound them to yourself to exert full control over their powers and make yourself untouchable. It seems logical, given that you are a Lovell. Even my people know of the horrors and atrocities your ancestors committed. And yet… these creatures do not seem subservient. Could it be your insistence that they are not slaves has a grain of truth to it?”

The jinn scoffed.

The gargoyle spoke with a note of defensiveness in his deep voice. “Andy would never use people that way.”

The water weaver stepped forward, bringing a sense of calm and peace with them as they soothed the room with their subtly powerful magic. “We are not slaves.”

Then our angel stepped up beside Andy's chair to address his brethren. “Oleander Lovell is unique among her lineage,” he said firmly, with the air of someone who was used to passing divine judgement, as if he were one of the High Choir himself, rather than a revenant created by necromancy. “It's why I chose her to undo her family's evil. To right their wrongs. If you don't stand in her way, this woman will cleanse her entire ancestral line with her deeds and the pure intentions in her heart.”

Andy rolled her eyes.

All of the angels stared at our revenant as if they were seeing a ghost. And yet, there was some grudging respect in the expression on their leader's face, and he said nothing about our angel’s newly embodied status. “We will offer aid as I have outlined. To be clear, this is a favor granted to you by me personally, Oleander Lovell, and not by the Most High Seraph. Our governing body will not be involved in your petty war. But I am amenable to offering a favor which you will repay by returning the artifact. We shall see how you redeem your ancestral line.”

He stood and gestured to Andy to join him. When he reached out and took Oleander's hand, I forced myself not to react. But Ambrose materialized from nowhere, shadowed tendrils inserting themselves between Andy and the angel. “Release her,” the boogeyman growled, a wave of terror pulsing out from his aura, his eyes blazing red.

The angel stood his ground, his own aura flaring with light in response. “Call off your guard,” he told Andy with a haughty lift of his chin. “I am merely placing a summoning rune on your hand. You may use it to call for aid one time .”

I watched as the jinn slid closer to our witch, his gold eyes narrowed as small flames licked along his hands. “It will only work one-way? You will not be able to summon her to you? Or bind her to you in any way?”

The angel let out a sigh, frustration finally making its way through his controlled mask. “Is your entire menagerie of pets always so possessive, witch?”

Andy just grinned. “Yep. So, I really wouldn't fuck around with that rune if I were you. Probably wouldn't end well for you.”

He just shook his head and began tracing a pattern with magic, embedding the rune into the skin of Andy's palm. “I will only answer your call. I will only deal with you directly,” he warned. “I do not trust the other Lovell. Belladonna. She was affiliated with the cult, and she assisted in at least one attack on our realm.” His blue eyes met Andy's as he finished his rune. “You would do well to remember that as well.”

She just sighed and took her hand back, rubbing her palm on her jeans like she was rubbing off dirt. “Noted.”

Then the angels returned to the courtyard, where they created another portal and disappeared.

“Good riddance,” I muttered.

No one disagreed.