Chapter 18
Imogael
A sudden idea came to me. If I could talk to Seraniel, I might be able to figure out the best way to deal with our current situation. He had probably spent his time with those pricks analyzing their weak points and figuring out how to manipulate each of them.
Sniffling and wiping the dripping snot from my nose with my arm, I closed my eyes and sent out a thought. Just a hello, whispered from my mind to his. It wasn't intrusive, it was just asking for an invitation, and acting as one for my mind as well. This was something that demons did often, since we rarely wanted to meet face to face. It was less likely to cause a fight if we communicated over thoughts.
Seraniel pushed the thought back with a sharp look at me. Didn't he understand what I was trying to do? I sent out another greeting, which he also sent back to me. I was starting to get frustrated. I didn't understand why he wasn't just answering me. What was he trying to protect?
I sent out one more greeting, which he finally accepted. I thought I saw him roll his eyes. Yes, that was the Seraniel I knew! Before I could laugh, though, I was hit with his pain, his sickness, his horror at what he had been made to do.
He was the murderer. He had torn Jin to pieces. Seraniel had been the one that killed Starr, and every other person taken by Joey and Sloan. Sure, he had been forced to do it, but it was his hands that were bloodied. There was so much guilt and self hatred tangled up in these memories, and I couldn't stop them from invading my mind.
That must have been why Seraniel had refused my invitations. He was holding so much inside of him, so many powerful emotions, and he couldn't hold them back once we were linked. He sunk further into depression and self hatred. I wished that I could tell him it wasn't his fault, to remind him that they had forced him to do those things, but his memories were so powerful that I could barely breathe, let alone send out a thought to him.
Then the torture flooded into my mind, and the pain of that. I fought against the urge to moan and throw up. He had been stabbed an unknowable number of times, any time Joey had been bored or annoyed. They had even fed Seraniel grave dirt, which was poison to an angel. It wouldn't kill him, but it left him in excruciating pain that he would remember for the rest of his life.
So many other things had been done to him. The shackles had been created to burn, constantly. They had forced him to watch them rape one of the women stolen from Antonio, forcing his eyes open through the whole thing. He felt unclean, and I knew he would never really feel clean again.
The memories rewound back again. There, the memory of being torn from the white lands of Heaven and thrown into the colorful and horrible lands of the humans. The first time he saw Joey's face. The smell of blood, drawn from innocent children, sitting in a golden chalice. The spells that were used on the shackles around his wrists. The pain of being literally torn from God's grasp and thrown into the hands of evil, evil people.
Seraniel would be broken for a long time. Maybe forever. My heart broke, over and over again, every time he showed me something new. There was nothing I could really do to help him. Not really. All I could do was free him and hope that he would survive. And if he survived, I could only hope that he wasn't cast out for what he was forced to take part in.
There was every chance that God Himself could find Seraniel guilty of the sins he was forced to commit, and unlike with humans there was very little mercy afforded angels. They were meant to be soldiers, unthinking, unquestioning. They were weapons of God, much as we demons were weapons of Lucifer. That Seraniel had been forced to sin was possibly not a good enough reason. God might have preferred a self destruct option, suicide over murder.
In a word, Seraniel was probably screwed.
Then words came to me, in his deep voice. Sloan is the weaker of the two. You could control him. Your circle doesn't have magic bindings, but my shackles do. I can only do what they force me to do.
There was pain in his voice, even in his thoughts. We had never shared a link like that, before. It was strange to hear how he thought his voice sounded. It was close, but not exactly the same.
Okay. What do you think I should do? I asked him, watching as Joey and Scott talked, taunting one another, threatening violence.
You will know, Imogael. You have always been better under pressure than I am. You were right, I am screwed, but I need your help anyway.
He paused, struggling with something painful. I am sorry for sending you here. It wasn't my place, and I caused you much grief.
If you hadn't sent me here, I thought to him, then I would have never met Scott. I love him, Seraniel. It felt good to tell him that, and though I felt the sadness that came from that information, I also felt understanding and acceptance.
I'm trusting you with my life. Prove me right, Imogael.
I nodded. I'm going to save you, and Scott. I promise.
Thank you, he responded before pushing me out of his mind.
Then I turned my attention to Sloan. Seraniel had been right, his mind was slow and lazy. It was a simple endeavor to force my way in, and then to gain control of his body. I tested it by forcing him to scratch his bearded chin, and then to tug on a piece of his hair.
I only had to wait for the right time to use him.
Scott
“So, are we just going to talk, or are you actually going to kill me?” I asked. “It seems to me you're stalling. Are you suddenly afraid to murder in cold blood?”
Joey's hand twitched. I went for Joachim. He went for his gun. He drew first, though. He had always been much faster than me. His gun was all black, shining under the light above them.
I pointed Joachim at him, but Joey had his pistol aiming right for Elise.
“No!” I shouted. I watched him pull the trigger. I pulled mine, hoping that she would move out of the way.
My bullet hit Joey. His bullet, which was supposed to hit Elise… hit Sloan instead, who had jumped in front of it. Sloan's body fell to the ground, lifeless. The bullet had gone in through the back of his head.
“What the fuck...” Joey said, then he fell to the ground as well. “Sloan, you fucking… moron...”
He fell over, his body laying across Sloan's. They were both dead. At least, they definitely were after I shot them both again. The whole killing thing had become harder this time around. There wasn't as much anger and fury behind it as there was when Etta was killed.
“I wish I didn't have to kill anyone,” I said to Elise, turning around just in time to see her slump to the ground, her hand on her stomach. She was breathing hard. “Elise?” I yelled, running to her. Lifting up her shirt, I was faced with a horrible sight. Her stomach was swollen and bruised, almost like it was ready to burst.
“What the hell…?” I asked, looking from her stomach to her face. Her eyes were rolling back from the pain.
“I couldn't… heal myself… not fully,” she panted, gripping my shirt in her hands. “But I am glad… to have died for you...”