thirteen
An odd sensation follows me as I walk back towards the office. Each step is haunted by the grim thought that this may be the last time I walk through this building. That that may have been the last time I got to speak to my friend. That I’m walking towards Death herself.
I give myself an extra moment to slip into the changing rooms and remove my branded vest. If I’m venturing out of the city, I’ll stand out less without it. I add a frost blade to my belt, hoping that the weapon will provide a larger buffer between myself and death.
I leave my phone in my locker, then pull my hair back into a single braid. A strip of gold falls in front of my eyes, but I lack the energy to fix it.
The archangel hasn’t moved. He’s still flicking through footage for any signs of the fallen angel. Seeing him performing such a mundane task is unsettling; he almost looks human. Five years ago, I’d have walked into the room and not even looked twice. It’s a terrifying reality that, despite the stone-cold killer of a creature he is, he can blend in amongst us with ease. They all can.
“Do you really think that this is our first time amongst you? That we chose an unknown world as our battlefield?”
His words play over in the back of my mind. These creatures of such great power and destruction have been around us since the beginning of time. We just didn’t know it.
“Cain is gone. No trace of him.”
The archangel doesn’t turn to look at me, only stares at the frozen image on the screen. I wince at it. Jeremy’s face is blurred, Cain’s wings caging around him.
“How do you even know how to use a computer?”
The archangel frowns, looking at me as if I just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “Again, Slayer, we were amongst your kind long before computers were invented,”
he scoffs.
My eyes roll, but I shut them tightly. It’s getting closer to midnight now and the adrenalin is depleting quickly. I know I’m going to need to sleep at some point, but that’s an issue I just can’t bring myself to think about.
When I open my eyes, I find the archangel watching me again. I expect to see amusement or even frustration, but instead his gaze is soft, tender. As if he wishes he too could shut his eyes and just breathe.
“Do angels need to sleep?”
I hadn’t intended to say the words aloud, but apparently the part of my brain that filters thoughts before speaking has already checked out for the evening.
The archangel’s brows rise and he studies me a moment. His mouth opens, but shuts just as quick. “Let’s get this over and done with. I have things to be doing.”
Hint taken: our partnership has its limits. “Of course. How could I forget that you’re too important for small talk?”
A noise that resembles a growl erupts from deep within him, and my hand falls to the hilt of my dagger. My next words are cautious. “The fallen angel must’ve flown straight outside of the city.”
The archangel nods, his features moulded into a permanent look of disapproval. “I need to return to my legions. Now that I’ve confirmed our suspicions, they may have a lead as to where he’s taking them.”
He stands and brushes something invisible off his pants before walking towards the door with long strides.
“Wait —”
I have to take quick steps to catch up to him. “Before we go, I should steal some food from the supply room.”
The archangel stops walking. A look of disgust crinkles his features when he turns back to me. “You think you’re coming with me to the Luminary?”
I’m sorry, the what? “Uh… yes?”
The archangel’s eyes roll. “The Luminary is the home we have built for ourselves on Earth.”
My cheeks flush. “Yes, I know that, obviously. Why wouldn’t it be called the Luminary?”
I brush off the embarrassment at his clear annoyance with my ignorance. “What a stupid name,”
I mutter to myself. For a moment I think I see a hint of amusement on his face, but it’s gone so quickly I convince myself it was never there. “Of course I’m coming with you. We have a deal, remember?”
The archangel takes a step towards me and narrows his eyes. “Our deal was for me to help you survive the night. I got you here”
– he gestures around the room – “the most secure building in the world. I consider that as my end of the bargain being fulfilled.”
My fists clench at my sides. He’s going to leave me here. Without him, my chances of finding Jeremy are near impossible, my chances of survival even lower. “That’s not fulfilling the deal, archangel, that’s finding a loophole.”
He hardly even blinks at me.
“I need to find him, and I won’t be able to do it without your help. Please.”
“The only humans welcome at the Luminary are either kept as pets or desperate to bed an angel. So which are you?”
He tilts his head to the side.
Oh, I’m gonna hit him.
I take a step closer, fighting the overwhelming urge to find out whether his limbs will grow back if I cut them off slowly. I take a deep breath. “A third option,”
I say through gritted teeth. “I’m the human who is under the archangel’s protection, for at least another six hours.”
The archangel turns to walk away without even dignifying me with a response, but I grab his wrist. I regret it immediately as he looks at me with the promise of murder in his eyes.
“Archangel,” I plead.
He reaches out with his free hand and slowly places it on top of mine. His gaze is softer now, and for a moment I think he might just change his mind.
“I am their leader. If I walk in with you, then I am responsible for you. If you go around pissing off other angels, I’m the one who will have to take care of you. Deal or not.”
His hand grows warm on top of mine, an almost soothing feeling accompanying the threat in his words. “You and your human heart are not prepared for what lies beyond the borders of the city. This is the safest place for you to be.”
“I promise I will be on my best behaviour. Just – please, don’t do this.”
He leans in, his eyes dropping to my lips before flicking back up to meet the plea in mine. “Goodbye, Slayer.”
The words are cold as he pulls my hand off his wrist and turns again to leave.
“I’ll remember this.”
Resentment drips from my voice, but it doesn’t stop him for even a moment. Within seconds he’s gone, and I stand alone in the darkness of the office, watching shadows contort into nightmares.
No. I’m not letting him do this.
I run after the archangel. I don’t give my mind a moment to protest the stupidity of what I’m about to do.
The agency doors swing open and I barge through, my eyes immediately flicking to the sky. White-and-silver wings hover in the air high above; I have to squint to make them out amongst the clouds, but they contrast starkly against the darkness of the night sky.
I hear the door click shut behind me. The archangel flies east, and I run after him.
My eyes flick from the path ahead of me to the sky, and my legs move quickly. It works wonders to keep my thoughts at bay. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the sound of my footsteps crunching below me and my heart thumping in my chest.
It stops the realisation that I’m going to leave the city for the first time in two years from slowing me down. If I were to really think about it, I’d be paralysed by fear.
Though as I let the archangel lead me closer to the border of the city, part of me feels as if I’m about to be set free. The part of me that’s drawn to the violence.
If I don’t do this, I’ve sentenced Jeremy to death without even trying to save him.
Perhaps they’ll call me naive at my funeral, or perhaps they’ll call me brave.
The closer to the outskirts of the city I go, the more damage and destruction there is. The major cities were restored after lockdown was introduced, but we left the rest of the world to rot. I had forgotten what it looked like before.
Once we pass the border of the city, the streets are full of piles of brick, ash, and sand, next to houses that are hardly standing. Even those that are relatively intact have major damage. Broken windows, fallen tiles, ash and dirt where grass used to be.
I’m thankful for the sting in my chest that distracts me from the devastation.
When the war began, we fought in the streets as civilians ran for their lives. Our weapons were useless against the angels. We tried guns, tanks, bombs, but nothing caused more than a scratch that healed before our eyes. All we succeeded in doing was slowing them down and pissing them off further.
I don’t know how the remaining world leaders were able to gain an audience with the angels, let alone how they got them to agree with the terms of the curfew. Xavier and I have always chalked it up to laziness on the angels’ part, but perhaps there’s more to it. Once the deal was made, those who were left retreated to the city and left everything else behind.
The archangel’s wings take powerful beats as he moves gracefully through the sky. He doesn’t look down, and he’s high enough that even if he did, I doubt he’d see me. It takes all of my energy to keep up with him. My breaths are quick and the soles of my feet ache, but I don’t slow or stumble. It could be miles yet until the Luminary; I could be running for hours. But if I lose the archangel, I lose my chance. Though if I do manage to make it all the way there without going into cardiac arrest, he may just kill me on the spot for disobeying him.
He doesn’t even need to know that I’m there. I just need intel, then I’ll be on my merry way to the man I love.
The streets begin to thin, replaced by cascading trees leading into darkness. I hesitate at the edge for only a moment, staring into the void within them. It takes a deep breath and the realisation that the archangel is harder to see through the canopy of branches before I’m running again.
I’m grateful for the stark contrast of his white wings against the darkness of the night. It’s the only thing I can see through the shadows of the leaves. The trees arch over in slumps, what would’ve once been vibrant now tattered and discoloured. I can see my breath in the chilly air as I move quickly but quietly, my footsteps muffled by layers of damp fallen leaves and desolation.
My gaze darts from shadow to shadow, watching for daemons hidden amongst the trees. Their bark-like skin camouflages all too well in the forest.
My knuckles turn white as I grip the hilt of my frost blade tightly. Jeremy would tell me that I was born for this moment. That every name I’ve written down over the past two years, every time I’ve wished I could do more for them, has led me to this. He’s always said that I was born to help people, that I’d never have been happy doing anything else with my life. He knows me better than most.
I don’t remember much about life before my parents passed away. I was only two when they were killed in a car crash. They had no other family, no one to take me in. Social services placed me into my first foster home within a month, but the first one I can remember was three years later.
They had a daughter my age, and I was excited to make a friend. She was less excited to have me around, worried that her parents would give me more attention. She’d break a plate, then blame it on me; draw on the walls, then put the crayon in my hand.
I lasted a month there before they reached breaking point, then it was on to the next.
I was always afraid of what the next day would bring, if the next foster home would be better or worse than the last. If I would have to move cities again. If I died, would there by anybody at my funeral?
That’s the thought that’s always stuck with me, though I’d never admit to it. Jeremy thinks I want to help others because I’m a good person. In reality, it’s much more selfish than that. There’s a determination within me fuelled by the fear that I’ll never leave my mark on the world. That I’ll die alone and forgotten.
It’s what made me want to enlist in the army. It’s what made me step out that door this evening. I will help those who cannot help themselves, even if it terrifies me, in the hopes that the girl who grew up with no one will be remembered for being someone.
If I find Jeremy, and I will, then I need to stop the AIA from forcing agents back into the field. I saw the look on Layla’s face when it dawned on her; her eyes filled with pure terror. Terror that will only hold her back in battle and get her killed.
After what happened to Archer, we all feel that terror. Jeremy feared it more than I did; he’s always said that one day the leaders will be stupid enough to think that something has changed, and that we have a chance at winning this war. He would hate that I’m out here. He would blame himself.
He doesn’t know that I was going to end up here within the next week anyway. I’ve lied to him more in the past twenty-four hours than I have in two years. I lied to him when I shrugged off Xavier’s phone call as nothing of note. I lied again when I told him that the reason I couldn’t imagine marrying him was because there was no point.
We’ve always told each other the truth. Ever since the moment we met, I knew I could trust him, and I have.
Does it count as a lie if it’s told to protect the other person?
I’ve become lost in my thoughts for too long. The trees are too thick to see the archangel’s wings. I slow and spin around, peering through shadowed branches for any sign of him, but seeing nothing besides leaves and darkness.
Oh, worlds.
I move on instinct, wrapping my hands around the thick branch that hangs above my head and pulling myself up. I climb the oak tree quickly, scrambling to find any sign of the archangel. My foot slips when I try to push myself up higher, but I hold on tightly to the branch above.
It’s a gruelling climb to the top. My muscles ache with exhaustion. I peer through the tops of the trees; the stars shine brightly through the cloud coverage.
I grip the branch as I turn, trying to grasp a sense of direction. In the distance I can see him: a white-and-silver blur beginning to descend. Relief courses through my veins, and I look to the stars to find my way. The archangel disappears into the forest east of the tree that I’m perched in.
I climb down, letting myself breathe and relax a little. I know where he has landed – I don’t have to keep to his pace any longer.
My leg is dangling in the air three branches from the ground when I hear the sound of crunching leaves. I scan the trees, but it’s too dark for me to see more than a few feet ahead.
I pull my leg back up and retreat into the coverage of the leaves. I use one hand to grab the branch above me for support while the other steadies me where I’m perched.
“The angel was spotted by Lincoln Park.”
“We should go get him.”
Three shadowy figures step out of the darkness and hover below me. But they’re not daemons or any other kind of creature from hell.
They look human.
One of the men stops the others in their tracks. His scraggly hair pokes out from underneath the cap he wears. “We were told not to go near the city.”
The smaller man scoffs, as if Scraggly Hair said something ridiculous. “There are no agents out at night. We wouldn’t even get caught.”
Scraggly grabs the smaller man by the collar and shakes him slightly. “We might not get caught by them, but you’re a fool if you think we stand a chance against an angel.”
The third person, a woman with bright golden hair, shifts uneasily and looks up at the sky. “He’s right. The archangel would kill us long before we’d be close enough to get a shot at him.”
Archangel?
Each of them is dressed in black clothing; it looks like some kind of uniform. They hold guns, with various daggers strapped to their vests. They look as if they’re on some sort of patrol, but they are not agents of the AIA.
I could ask them for help, perhaps join their patrol until we find the archangel. I could tell them that he is no longer near Lincoln Park. But I stay hidden, and I don’t make a sound while I watch them from the shadows.
I was prepared to fight daemons, but I never considered that there are humans out here, or where their allegiances might lie. Humanity has seemed so… close since the war began.
As if we all bonded over our shared trauma and banded together. It’s never really crossed my mind that perhaps not all of us are on the same side.
“Let’s just head back to base and let him know what we’ve found. He’ll be happy to know that the archangel is back. We might even get some extra rations.”
The scraggly man pushes the other two back in the direction they came from, and they follow obediently.
I let out a sigh of relief, but as I shift my weight, my foot slips and snaps a twig.
Shit.
The three humans turn back and point their guns in the air, aiming directly at me.