Chapter 16
Imogael
The food helped me a lot. My strength was coming back, a little, though the pain was still there, in my stomach. It still nagged at me, reminding me of my coming death.
Unavoidable. It was unavoidable. I was running straight to my own ending, and there was no way to stop it. Not without letting Scott down and going against my own purpose. And make no mistake, helping Scott was my purpose. Maybe it wasn't my original purpose as a demon, but in that human body, with human love for that man in my heart? It was the only thing I cared about. I had to do right by him.
Even worse than the pain in my stomach, though, was a sort of burning in my head. Like a headache made of flames, it pulsated and distracted me. It was a warning. A crying out in pain, that was coming from Seraniel. I could hear his voice, his pleading, I could feel the pain that he was feeling. The burning was no doubt from the connection of a demon and an angel, the same burning I would feel when he touched me.
I had forgotten how much I craved that pain, though it wasn't so pleasant when it was inside of my mind.
He was begging me to come help him, come save him. Me, a demon. Come save an angel that exiled me from Hell. It would have been laughable, if it wasn't so damn terrifying. To hear an angel beg was to know true fear.
It was good that I convinced Scott we didn't have time to wait. He was running around the house, bringing me clothes and then helping me to put them on. His touch against my skin was gentle, full of tenderness and love. I wondered if I would miss that touch when I died, or if it would be long forgotten as I lost consciousness.
Seraniel's call was getting louder, more frenzied. It could have easily been a trap. I believed it very well was one. I couldn't imagine how a bunch of gang members, who should have died years ago, could have possibly summoned an angel. It wasn't easy to do.
But they did have that stash of religious items. Books with ancient secrets lined those walls. There was no real telling what they could have found there. If there was the secret to summoning an angel, all they needed was the right objects and the willpower. Considering their hatred for Scott, it seemed pretty obvious they had the willpower.
If I weren't dying, I wouldn't have minded waiting for Saejima and Antonio. I didn't trust Antonio, but they would have been useful in the coming fight. The more people, the better, because angels were formidable opponents with much power behind them.
I didn't know how we were going to succeed if Seraniel was going to fight against us. It seemed fairly obvious to me that we were fucked, but there was just the slightest glimmer of hope. Perhaps Seraniel would spare us, show us mercy. It was unlikely, but it was the only chance we had, and I had to hold onto something. I needed something to keep the despair out.
The memory of Seraniel's touch coursed through me. His vicious heat, the way he would stretch me. Was he sending me those memories? Was it to prove to me that it really was him? But it didn't prove that he wasn't luring me into a trap. It was just another trick, I told myself.
But I yearned for him. Not the way I once had. Not to be touched by him, or used by him. I just yearned to free him, to do right by him and gain his forgiveness. To give him my own forgiveness. We could move past what happened. I had found real love thanks to him, thanks to his rage.
Did he know that I loved Scott? Would he find that offensive? Was that why he was working with Joey and Sloan? It seemed ridiculous that the angel that dumped me so easily would hate a human for loving me, but angels were strange and fickle creatures that were incredibly jealous and wrathful.
There were so many terrifying unanswered questions. There were so many ways that things could go wrong, that I could be killed before I could save Scott. Without me there, Scott was fucked. Seraniel would easily overwhelm him.
The burning wasn't getting any better though. Once I had some shoes on, I looked at Scott. His eyes were worried, his lips turned down. I wanted to kiss them, and so I did. When our lips touched, I gained strength through him. I felt powerful again, and it seemed the kiss did the same to him. He nodded at me, then stood and offered me his hand.
“We should go,” he said. I nodded, and he helped me to my feet. He was incredibly handsome, even with anxiety lining his face. His black hair shined in the moonlight coming in through the window. Pulling him close, I allowed myself one last embrace. His hand squeezed my behind. The other hand's fingers slipped up and down my jawline, tickling me as we kissed, our tongues slipping between lips and sliding against one another. I tasted him, I felt his hard body against mine.
I was going to lose him. He was going to lose me. “I love you,” I said, realizing I hadn't said it to him earlier. “I love you so much.”
“I know,” he replied, smiling. Holding my hand, he led me to the front door and then down the steps, then we faced his motorcycle.
It was then that I realized that this ride was very likely my last one on his motorcycle. Another wave of loss and sadness threatened to overcome me, but I simply promised myself to truly enjoy it.
The wind coursed through my hair, and I held Scott tight, watching as the buildings whipped by us. I was going to almost certain death, but I enjoyed the sights. I held my love. I felt happy. I felt peace.
Scott
Leaving my bike a few streets down, we walked the rest of the way and turned a street before our target's street. The night was incredibly dark in spite of the full moon above us, but we found our way in the dark and kept moving forward. There was a sort of anxiety that was forming between us.
Helping Elise to hop a fence and then hopping over it myself, we both stood in the back yard of the house across the street from the target. It was empty, and was the perfect vantage point to see what we were going to get ourselves into.
She held my hand as we crept up to the corner of the house and leaned out to observe the house. It was a tall, white building, and quite large with a garden that was probably once beautiful but had since gone without any work done. Joey had the deed of the house for months. I was surprised that the home owner's association wasn't on his ass about keeping up appearances, since this was a truly fancy neighborhood.
Outside of the house that Joey had bought, there were two men standing on a wide porch. They were facing out, watching the street, and they both had short haircuts. Both men looked like giant brutes, with more muscle than brains between the two of them. There was no way I could have fought them hand to hand. Shooting them was always an option, but probably not an incredibly good one.
“If we can get close enough, I can shoot them both,” I said to Elise, watching their movements. I squeezed her hand before releasing it, putting them on Joachim and Boaz. The men barely shuffled away from the door they were guarding, hardly even shifting their weight. There was no chance of either of them leaving that spot on their own.
I thought I saw movement through one of the windows, but it was too dark to be sure.
“Okay,” she answered, her voice unsure. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
I couldn't help but chuckle. “You're right, it is. If I shoot them, that will alert everyone in the house and everyone that lives nearby. We'll ruin our chance of getting the drop on them, and we'll probably get the cops called on us.”
“Your neighbors didn't call the cops,” she pointed out.
I sighed, shaking my head. “They're poor, and I don't live in the safest area. This place, though, is an upper class neighborhood. These people aren't afraid of being snitches. They'll call the police on us in an instant.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a bad idea. I have a better one.” She quirked her lip up into a wicked smile. Closing her eyes, she raised both of her hands and took deep breaths. I watched closely, my eyes flicking from her to the two men. As she brought her hands together, interlocking her fingers, the men turned to each other. Their arms came out, their hands wrapped around the other's neck, and they squeezed.
“Holy shit,” I said, watching as the men choked each other until they both fell to the ground. “That's absolutely horrifying.”
She gave me a sad look. “I know. I'm sorry. I'll try not to use my magic again, but that seemed like a better idea than...”
I cut her off. “No, don't be. It's also incredibly useful and bad ass, I just hope you never use it against me. Come on, let's go get them.” Her powers really were terrifying, but more in an awe-inspiring way than a shaking in my boots kind of way. It was becoming more and more possible that she really was a demon.
Which kind of sucked. How could I believe in demons without believing in God?
“Whatever,” I said to myself, shaking my head as we jogged across the street. We would cross that bridge when we came to it. Not before, and definitely not while we were walking into danger.
“What?” Elise asked, but I just waved my hand and put a finger to my lips to shush her. We both grabbed the men, dragging them down the street. Pulling out the rope that I packed into my right pocket, we worked together to tie both of them to a light pole. I didn't know when they might wake up, and I didn't want to be ambushed by them.
As Elise and I finished tying the men up, we glanced at each other. I knew what she was thinking. She knew what I was thinking. Things could go bad, and fast, the second that we took a step into that house. We could be shot immediately, or step on another shotgun trap.
Digging through the men's pockets, I removed their weapons. One had a knife that I gave to Elise. She took it and slid it into the boots she was wearing for easy removal. The other had a gun, which she also took. She was a little bit more uneasy about that hunk of metal, and held it in a shaking hand.
Wishing that I could reassure her of our impending success, I instead stood and ran a hand through my hair. There was no point in lying to her. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She did the same, pressing a hand to her stomach where the bullet had entered her.
“Is the bullet still in there?” I asked. She nodded. “We'll get it out when we're done here. I promise.” It had to hurt like hell to keep that thing in her guts, and could probably lead to complications. That would have to be the first thing we did if we made it out of there alive.
“I know,” she said, smiling at me. There was a sadness there, a quiver in her bottom lip. I didn't understand it, but I knew better than to ask about it. She was secretive, and she was focused on finishing what we had started.
With a nod, we both turned back to that house, where we might find death or redemption. Neither of us could say for sure which.