4. Scarlet
Chapter 4
Scarlet
S he had always been told that Earth was full of uncivilised barbarians, and that Aetherna was paradise.
It was almost unheard of for celestrials to leave unless Fallen, so you could imagine Scar’s surprise when she found herself in a cultured city made of steel and glass. She was sure there were some barbarians amongst the populace, but in the time she’d spent there, it only confirmed what she’d always believed.
Archangels were lying arseholes.
She was sure Cassiel would be no different, but it wasn’t like she had much choice. She needed to be there, in that exact moment. With an Archangel that sent alarming shivers down her spine at a mere glance.
He’d brought them to a place called The Drunken Beast, a bar that had a steady line waiting to enter with music loud enough for the dancers to enjoy, but not loud enough the people who stood by the tall tables couldn’t hold a conversation.
It was pleasant enough, the atmosphere electric as Scarlet pinned her wings as tight as possible to her back. She was grateful that Aeron had decided to move first, his presence creating a little slipstream that she could step into that protected her feathers from curious hands.
The bartender’s eyes roamed across all three of them as they approached, settling on Cassiel with a bored expression. The beads in her hair cluttered together when she tilted her head, matching the streaks of gold painted on her skin. “What’s your poison?”
“Riley Storm,” Cassiel said, nodding to the growing crowd with a practiced smile. “Get him.”
She didn’t expect him to be so popular, but from the whispers and giggles, she was wrong. Her first mistake, because it meant she was going to be under more scrutiny while in public than expected.
Which was fine, she could work under these conditions. She wouldn’t have actually trained under the strictest academy for a year otherwise. She knew the etiquette and expectations of being a bodyguard, even if she hadn’t technically graduated.
“Aye, sorry mate, there isn’t a Riley Storm on the menu.”
It took Scar a moment to realise it wasn’t the woman who’d answered, but a man with curious amber eyes. His smile was lazy, long blond hair roughly braided to the side.
“Can I suggest our impressive cocktail menu?” He flipped a glass in his hand, catching it with a wink, much to the crowd’s delight. “We’re famous for our blood infused drinks.”
“The Councilman has requested Mr Storm,” Aeron said, the words coming out cold, clipped. “Get him.”
“Sorry, no Mr Storm here.” The man’s head dipped, his movement almost feline. “We definitely have something that will help with that stick up your arse, though.”
Aeron’s cheeks flushed, eyes narrowing to a sliver as his hand briefly touched the golden blade attached to his hip. It was bigger than the one she’d been given, and just as sharp.
If the male bartender had noticed the silent threat, he didn’t react, or care. “Careful, feathers,” he said with amusement. “Wouldn’t want you to create a scene in front of everyone and tarnish your squeaky clean image now, would we?”
He definitely noticed when the distinctive sound of the blade being drawn echoed between them.
His smile only grew.
Scarlet watched the interaction, carefully sweeping her gaze across the dancers before rising to find a heavily tattooed man watching from a ledge above. There were stairs that lead up, and what was clearly a glass office or room that overlooked the dance floor.
“Sir,” she said, gesturing to where the man had disappeared.
Cassiel nodded, waiting for Scarlet to lead them through the crowd. The bouncer at the bottom didn’t bother arguing, simply lifting the rope with little acknowledgment.
The short corridor was dark, the door already open as they moved inside.
“Councilman,” a man greeted, his voice somewhat hostile. “What do I owe this pleasure?”
Scarlet stepped to the side, allowing Cassiel to face the man she assumed was Mr Storm. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing strange marks that wrapped around both arms, as well as his hands. His strong brow was drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line as he casually leaned against the edge of a large table. There were four other men, two standing, and two sitting.
“I’m just returning the favour,” Cassiel said, lifting his head so he stood taller. “I suggest we talk in private.”
Mr Storm smiled, but the emotion wasn’t friendly. “This is private.”
Aeron turned, following the man with the pale blond hair as he closed the door behind them. The entire room must be soundproofed, the loud music from below completely muffled. He remained by the door, crossing his arms to lean against the only exit.
“Sir,” Aeron began, stepping towards Cassiel. “I believe we –”
Cassiel lifted up his hand, his attention remaining on Mr Storm. “The Storm name owns half the city, and yet you run a bar, Riley?”
“What do you want?” Riley replied instead of answering, his tone short. Impatient.
Scar widened her stance, feeling the air vibrate with a violent tension that needed little fuse to ignite.
Cassiel looked like the typical Councilman, with his tailored suits and carefully styled hair, but Scarlet knew that was just an image. He may not look particularly dangerous, and he wasn’t in the typical sense. Not like the others in the room, where muscles and testosterone was aplenty. But from her research she believed Cassiel was dangerous in more subtle ways. He wasn’t impulsive, and wasn’t reactive to any base emotions or instincts. He was calculated in his danger, unpredictable, and that made him more terrifying.
“I assume you’ve seen Gideon’s little video,” Cassiel said. “It’s a cause for concern.”
“No shit,” the man lounging in the closest chair chuckled. He leaned back, lifting his legs until he could cross his ankles on the table. “I like how the Council hasn’t given a shit until they’re threatened directly.” He was also covered in tattoos, as were the other three men.
“Careful how you speak to me.” Cassiel’s tone was lethal. “The only reason you’re still here is because you hide behind…”
The man jumped to his feet, a head or so taller than the Archangel. Which made him unnecessarily tall. “Aww, I think it’s cute you think my boys have to fight for me.” The man sniggered while taking a threatening step forward.
Both Aeron and Scarlet moved as one, putting themselves in front of Cassiel. Aeron lifted his blade, but Scarlet was content to simply place her hand on her knife’s handle, not wanting to escalate the situation. She may look the least threatening in the room, but she’d use that to her advantage. In reality, she knew exactly how to use the knife.
The man laughed, a great bellow that crackled like thunder. “Who’s hiding again?” His eyes dipped to hers, amusement dancing in those red irises.
Scarlet glared back, keeping her face as cool and controlled as possible. She’d never met eyes that were red, and while one of the other men in the room also had a similar shade, they weren’t as vibrant as the man who continued to stare. His eyes dipped to her stomach, the fabric that crossed her breasts and tied beneath her wings revealing the tiniest sliver of skin.
“You should keep that one leashed,” Cassiel said with a sneer.
Riley reached over to pull the man back by his shoulder. “If you’re here to insult my brother, then you can leave.”
“I find it interesting you call a Daemon your brother.”
Daemon? Scarlet found her attention dragged back to the man in question, only to find he’d never looked away. His smile was teasing, dark hair ruffled and long enough to just brush his jawline in a just rolled out of bed sort of way. With an angular jaw and strong nose he was classically handsome, if not for the slightly manic look in his eyes.
The man winked, and her first impulse was to bury her knife in his chest.
She’d changed her mind. He was far more terrifying than the Archangel.
“That’s enough,” Cassiel said, demanding the attention back. “I came to your territory in peace.”
“You still haven’t stated what you want,” the pale blond, who continued to block the door, said.
Cassiel’s shoulders tightened, but when he spoke his voice was expectedly calm. “I want you to work alongside us in taking Gideon down. It’s imperative that he’s stopped before he destroys the city.”
“Stopped before he destroys the Council, you mean,” the other man added. He was also blond, but more yellow, like hers, and tied up on the top of his head. The last man with the facial scar hadn’t reacted once, content to sit with his arms crossed.
“Aetherna trains some of the highest quality warriors, and I’m willing to allow one to assist you,” Cassiel continued.
“To keep an eye on us, you mean?” the red-eyed man said, his gaze still burning against hers before he finally turned to Cassiel.
Riley replied without any hesitation. “No.”
“You deny a Councilman?” Cassiel’s posture stiffened.
“We don't trust you, just like you don’t trust us.” Riley turned to his desk, taking a seat on the edge. “We agree Gideon needs to be destroyed, and we can do that without being watched by one of your guards. If you wish to assist, we’ll be in contact. Until then…”
A moment of tension, the silence stretching awkwardly. Cassiel turns without another word, waiting for the door to be opened before storming out. She and Aeron had no choice but to follow tightly behind. Cassiel didn’t stop, shoulders rigid until he was outside the bar and reached the fresh air, his wings spreading open to take to the sky. His wings pumped, frustration propelling him far faster than she could physically manage, but she knew where he was heading as she flew back at a slower pace.
Scarlet landed on the Complex’s roof, where she hoped to be staying, finding both Cassiel and Aeron waiting.
Cassiel seemed to have recovered, his usual aura of confidence returning as he stood at the edge, looking out towards the city.
“We don’t need them, Sir,” Aeron began. “The threat to –”
Cassiel cut him off with a single look. “We don’t need them, no. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know everything about them. What their strengths are. Their weaknesses. I want to know why they’ve been trained since childhood to destroy Daemons, and yet welcome one within their brotherhood.”
Cassiel stood with his arms around his back, hands linked beneath his wings.
“Those men are as fascinating as they are dangerous. The Guardians are a force that shouldn’t exist, and yet do. They’re almost as fascinating as Daemons.”
“Why?” Scarlet asked before she could stop herself.
She waited for a reprimand that never came, instead Cassiel’s upper lip curved. “Our people have never been involved in politics within any realms but our own. We were the watchers and keepers of all history, not politicians. We had no voice. Until I came and decided it was time to carve our path here. With that comes a responsibility to remind those beneath us who is in power.”
And the Guardians threaten your power , she wanted to add, but was thankful she kept her mouth appropriately shut.
Aeron bowed. “I’ll do everything I can.”
“Indeed.” Cassiel’s eyes pinged between them before taking a step towards the door. “It is late. You’ve impressed me tonight, Scarlet. Which doesn’t happen often. Aeron will show you to your new quarters.”
They watched him go, the wind whipping at her hair before Aeron finally made a move towards the entrance. His back was rigid as she followed him down, not sparing her a glance as his longer legs ate up the space far quicker than she could. Essentially running behind him, she tried to make haste as they turned a corner, only for him to grab her arm and shove her painfully against the wall.
“Fucking bitch,” he sneered, his grip hard enough to bruise. “I’ve done what you asked, now delete the evidence.”
Scarlet raised her chin, pretending like her wings didn’t ache from the impact. She could get herself out of the position, but decided to let Aeron have the win. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t have been caught stealing from an Archangel.”
His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.
Scarlet couldn’t leave anything to chance, and it was pure luck that she’d caught Cassiel’s head officer snorting a pale substance in a public bathroom. Even better, he was selling stolen goods to afford the habit. It had taken her months to gather enough evidence to confront him, and of course blackmail him into getting her the position.
“You did what we agreed.” She shrugged, which was difficult with him being so close. “What you do in your spare time doesn’t concern me.”
Aeron pushed off the wall with a grunt, finally releasing her arm. “All this confidence for someone who’s only trained for a year.”
“It’s all I needed,” she said, knowing there were other reasons she’d only trained for a shorter period of time than expected. But a year had been enough to learn how to defend herself, and with her inherited medical knowledge, she knew exactly where to strike.
“Sure. Don’t come crying to me when you get yourself hurt, or worse. Cassiel isn’t forgiving.” Without another word he stormed in the opposite direction, and Scarlet could do nothing but follow.
She studied the corridor, memorising every turn and door. At the end Aeron passed through an open arch, crossing into what looked like a lounge without looking back.
Scarlet had paused after the first step, taking in the large, open space that held several comfy looking sofas, fluffy rugs, and even a kitchenette complete with fridge and microwave.
Weapons were displayed on a rack, the golden blades, spears and axes similar to the one Aeron had handed her earlier. No arrows, which meant she had to make the ones she’d brought from Aetherna last.
The other officers were sitting around a table, playing what looked to be a board game, laughing before they looked up.
“Scar gets Lee’s room,” Aeron said before finally turning to her with a less than impressed expression. “Try not to get killed.”
Yellow wings stood, shoving Aeron playfully in the shoulder. “Don’t mind Aer, he fell from the sky before he figured out he could fly as a babe.” He grinned at Aeron, who didn’t share the same amusement.
“Just keep her away from me,” he said, turning to one of the five doors and slamming it shut behind him.
Scarlet pursed her lips. “What’s his problem?”
Yellow wings chuckled, rolling a small copper ball between his fingers. “Where do I start?”
“He’s been here the longest,” Zaph said, a single brow raised as he rolled the dice. “Hopefully you’ll last longer than the last guy.”
“Stop being a dick,” the other grunted, a distinctive rumble beneath the table as if he’d kicked out. “And take your fucking turn. We met earlier, but officially I’m Nahal, that is Zaph, and that smiley prick is sunshine.”
“Kit,” yellow wings corrected with a grin. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
“No,” she said, thankfully having never met Kit before in London, or in Aetherna.
“Are you sure?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“Maybe I have just one of those faces.” Scar tightened her smile, redirecting the conversation. “The guy’s room I’m taking. What happened to him?”
Kit watched her for a moment more before tossing his ball, around the size of a coin, into the air before catching it. “He disappeared a day or so after I joined.”
“No, that was Eric,” Zaph said, leaning back in his chair.
“Either way Aeron’s the most senior officer,” Nahal added without looking up from the board. “Before that it was Raquel, but he left without as much as a goodbye, rude prick.”
“Aeron’s the one that organises the schedule for Cassiel,” Kit said. “Only he really talks to him directly as Cassiel doesn’t like to be disturbed. Babe, I thought he was going to eat you up back on the deck.”
Scar pursed her lips.
“So yeah, sorry about assuming you were a sex worker.” Kit shrugged, seeming unapologetic despite his words. “Blame Nahal, he seems to find all the female celestrials that offer happy endings.”
Nahal flipped him the finger.
Scarlet frowned. “My room?”
Kit pointed to the one door that was closed, just to her right and closest to the corridor. “You have an en suite, and you have free access to all the weapons. They’re personally supplied by Cassiel, and made from alchemy grade gold.”
“Fancy shit,” Zaph added without looking up. “Sharper than steel.”
“Those guns are mine,” Kit added, gesturing to the golden pistols lined up on the side, although the bullets were strangely made of copper. “But if they’re something you’re interested in, let Aeron know so he can request more from Cassiel.”
“Thanks.” Walking away and going into her new room, Scarlet gently closed the door behind her to take it all in. It was definitely bigger than the hostel she’d been staying in, with a large bed, dresser and mirror.
Scarlet diverted her gaze before she could strip one of the sheets, covering up the mirror’s reflective surface before she did anything else. Doing the same to the small mirror in the bathroom, she finally looked over her backpack that had been placed neatly at the foot of the bed. She hated the idea of someone touching her things, but it wasn’t like she’d had much choice. She’d brought everything with her, hoping her plan succeeded and she’d be able to stay.
Removing her new pretty knives from their holsters, she placed them on the bed beside her before reaching inside her bag. She’d left with barely the clothes on her back, coins, her bow, a specialised bowl and utensils, as well as herbs and plants only found in Aetherna.
But there was only one item that actually mattered, her heart thumping against her ribs, and her hand shaking as she searched through the bag’s contents. A crinkle against her fingertips, and the relief was immediate. Everything else in her bag could be lost, and she wouldn’t care. Her equipment and herbs, everything else could be replaced except for the small palm-sized book.
It was the only piece that hadn’t been destroyed in the investigation, those in charge more concerned about their image rather than finding the truth. After her brother’s home was ‘accidentally’ demolished, taking with it everything she had left of Silas, she knew that no one could be trusted. Not even the Archangels that she grew up to revere.
She’d learned that they’d had no intention of helping her find answers, instead the Archangels painted her brother as an insurgent that deserved everything that happened to him. As if he deserved to be beaten to death, and then discarded as if he was nothing.
Fuck them.
Flipping open the book Scarlet closed her eyes, her fingers tracing the familiar grooves and bumps of the pen on paper. The only evidence left, and the reason she’d tracked down Aeron and blackmailed him into getting her a job under the only Archangel to ever leave Aetherna.
Because, according to the last appointment entry written in her brother’s distinctive scribble, Cassiel was the last person to see Silas alive.