Balance (The Divine Book One)

chapter 7


Josette was still unconscious when I returned to my room at the Belmont. The bedding under her was red with her blood, still running out through the wounds on her face and chest. I didn't know how much blood an angel could lose, but judging by the coolness of her forehead and the shallowness of her breathing, it couldn't be much more.

As I stripped off her shredded clothes so I could treat the wounds, I had to remind myself that even though she appeared to be in a child’s body, Josette was not a child. Even so, it felt so wrong to be undressing her this way, but I had no other choice. Her flesh underneath was pale grey, and the same lines of black veins that I had seen on her face were also spreading from the cuts on her body.

The linens were already ruined, so I used the sword to cut out strips of cloth, dipped them in the holy water, and placed them over the gashes. The affected areas hissed and steamed as I did so, causing Josette to let out a soft moan and the familiar scent of frankincense to fill the room. Almost immediately some of the color began returning to her skin, and I could see the black lines receding from under the edges of the cloths. I went over to one of the empty hotel rooms to get a sheet to lay over her, then grabbed the box for the iPad and sat down at the side of the bed.

I slid the device out of the box and turned it on, then kept my eyes on Josette while it booted up. The cut on her face was super deep, and had taken two cloths dipped in the holy water before it had stopped bleeding. I wasn't sure if it would ever heal completely. Otherwise, she was looking a lot better already, her face flushing as the blood returned to it.

Wi-Fi was pretty ubiquitous in Manhattan, and I didn't have any trouble finding an open connection I could leech off of. I started with the basics. I typed 'how to kill a demon' into Google and hit enter. It didn’t surprise me that all of the results were filled with media fed, superstition based thoughts on destroying evil beings, without a hint of truth to any of them. Holy water, wooden stakes, garlic, blah, blah, blah. I hadn't thought I would come up with anything there. I needed better sources.

At the height of my illicit dealings in credit card numbers, I had belonged to a message board called 'SamChan', so named after Samuel L. Jackson, motherf**cker. If anyone knew anything real about the war between angels and demons, I could probably get a line to them there. The channel was filled with all types of hackers, crackers, conspiracy theorists, and other assorted societal chafe that would buy and sell any data they could get their hands on. I wasn't too sure I should try to use my old account, but getting access wasn't as simple as entering an e-mail address and password. If anyone noticed they'd probably think my credentials had been compromised, which would result in a good laugh for all involved. That was assuming my account was still active. It was.

I was eyeball deep in a thread posted by a guy who was looking to sell or trade a video he claimed was of a real vampire when Josette woke up. I wasn't looking at her at the time, but I could just feel her presence change. It reminded me of a butterfly bursting from a cocoon - one moment there was this ugly emptiness, the next a fullness of spirit and beauty that caught me off guard. When I turned my head to check on her, her golden eyes were open and alight with an internal sparkle, and she was smiling at me.

"Thank you," she said. I hadn't known what to expect, but gratefulness was a good start.

"I should be thanking you," I told her. "If you hadn't tossed me your sword, we'd both be dead right now. How do you feel?"

She took a moment, shifting in the bed a little bit. "The poison has been purged. The wounds are healing, but I still feel a little weak. Why did you save me?"

"Like I said, you saved my life."

She shook her head. "I saved my life, diuscrucis. You may have benefitted from that, but it was not an act of benevolence."

No, I suppose it wasn't. Had I really thought she was doing me a favor?

"Whether it was intentional or not, you did. Look, whatever you think of me, I'm not a bad guy. I'm just trying to make sure that mankind is allowed to govern its own future. Letting you die would have been a negative on the scorecard, and besides I don't think you deserved to go like that."

Her eyes turned thoughtful, the sparkle shifting inwards.

"You must understand, Landon,” she said. “This isn't about whether or not you are a nice guy. This war has been going on for thousands of years, and now after spending centuries gaining ground we are beginning to lose, and badly. There was another who came here making the same claims as you. She earned our trust and respect even as our enemy. She fought against us, and she fought with us, but we believed she would never seek to deceive. We were wrong."

"You mean Charis?” I asked.

The name kept coming up. Was she the reason my inception here felt like such a disaster?

Josette nodded. "She used our trust to trick us, then gave us up to Reyzl. She knew the outcome would shift the tide of the war, would go against everything she claimed to be fighting for. She said we didn't understand the bigger picture. We lost a dozen angels and countless mortal allies in the nights that followed."

As she spoke, tears began rolling down her face. She winced in pain as one slid under the bandage and touched the wound there.

"What happened to her?" I asked. Dante had said she was gone. He hadn’t bothered to mention that she was a traitor. Why not?

"She disappeared,” Josette said. “We have heard that Reyzl double-crossed her, and stabbed her in the back while she was enjoying the fruits of her betrayal."

I was being racially profiled, except as far as I knew there were only two of us. It figured this Charis had to go and ruin it for me.

“We may have similar bloodlines, but we’re not the same person,” I said.

"It is unjust I agree,” she replied, “but you must consider our perspective. Unlike demons, it is very difficult to replace a lost seraph. Heaven is a wondrous place, and few enough are willing to give it up to fight a war that has no definitive end. To lose so many in such a short time was an event that none of us can bear to see repeated. So we do not trust those who are not of our kind, and we forbid alliances because the gain of an ally cannot compare to the potential devastation that could follow."

She put her hand on the sheet to hold it in place and sat up. When she dropped the sheet, she was wearing a white leather raincoat over a plain white blouse. A large diamond cross hung from her neck. She reached up with small, delicate fingers and pulled the bandage from her face. As I had feared, the wound had left a thin black scar along her snow-white cheek. She ran her finger over it, her eyes dimming in sadness.

"I should have known it was a trick," she said. "I have to go. You have my gratitude for saving my life."

She moved to head for the door, but without thinking, I stopped her. I put my hand to her face, surprised by how small and soft it was in my hand. She didn't resist my touch.

"We both should have died today," I said, looking her in the eyes. "We got lucky. I won't keep getting lucky forever."

Her lips were trembling as she waited to hear me out, and to see what I intended to do with her. Her wounds might have been healed but I could tell she was still weak.

"If you can’t or won’t be my ally because of your laws, I can accept that,” I said. “But please don't leave without giving me the one thing that can help us both stop this war from being won by the demons."

"Wh...What is that?" she asked. Her voice was soft, scared.

I didn't know if it would work, but I had to try. I focused my will on my hand the way I had focused on the air to make it rain. I tried to feel the damage to her face, to pick out every molecule of imperfection that was marring the otherwise flawless surface. I ordered the damaged cells to disconnect, pulling the remaining demonic filth into my own body, and removing it from hers. She shook as I did it, her eyes glowing brightly in surprise.

"Knowledge," I said, pulling my hand away.

With the dirty tissue cleaned she healed without obstruction, and in moments the scar was gone.

She stared at me then for what seemed like ages. Her eyes were locked on mine, and she was still as a statue. Her breathing evened out and her face flushed red. I could feel the tension between us while I waited for her to decide what to do.

"Very well diuscrucis,” she said. “You saved my life, so I will try to help you. Know that we are not allies, and never shall be. I am simply repaying my debt, which is well within the tenets of our laws."

She smiled then, a big, wild smile that told me she had made up her mind, that she was throwing her caution to the wind, and that she still didn't trust that I wouldn't crush her with it. It was the kind of smile that comes from the strength of willful disobedience and the underlying fear of the consequences.

"Now, grab your sword and follow me to the roof,” she said. “I shall call this class Demon Fighting One-o-one."

I went over to where my sword was resting by the window. I noticed it was dark outside. "Josette," I said, remembering Dante's rules.

She bounced over to where I was standing. Her whole demeanor had changed, and she looked a lot more like a fourteen-year-old girl to me. She peered out the window.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's dark out," I told her.

"Yes," she agreed. "The sun has in fact set." She stepped back and looked at me, her brow furrowing inward. "You destroyed a Great Were, and you are fearful of the dark?"

I could feel the heat of my flush rise up through my cheeks. "Dan..."

"Do not," she cried out, interrupting me. When she was sure I was done talking, she lowered her voice. "Do not say his name." Serious Josette had returned.

"Why not?" I asked her.

"He is the only person ever to volunteer to leave Heaven for the Middle realm,” she explained. “His name is to be forgotten and unwrought for all time, as is that of his servant. That is our law. It is the only law that both Heaven and Hell have ever agreed to. If you absolutely must make reference, he is known as the Outcast."

Wow, that was a lot of hate. I could understand why Heaven may have been cross with him, but what had he done in Hell to cause such disdain?

"How old are you anyway?" I asked Josette, trying to turn the conversation away from things she wasn't allowed to mention.

The seriousness faded, and the adolescent exuberance sprang back into view. "That is your non-sequitor, Landon?"

The way she giggled changed her from plain to almost pretty. My face flushed again. Everything I said was making me feel dumber and dumber.

"I know you aren't fourteen." It was all I could think of to say.

She laughed louder. "You are concerned about this physical manifestation?"

"I'm more concerned about having undressed your physical manifestation,” I said. “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I didn’t have any other choice."

It was her turn to be embarrassed. It seemed she hadn't realized the efforts I had to go to in order to heal her.

"Do not fear Landon, I have been a member of the Order of Seraph for over seven hundred years. I did die as a young lady, and have chosen to remain that way because I find it comfortable and familiar. The same goes for the underlying personality, although I do find it increasingly difficult at times to hold onto the joy and innocence of youth."

Seven hundred years? So much she had seen and done; centuries of war and fighting and killing. Did she regret her decision to become an angel? I didn't ask, for fear of spoiling her mood before she had taught me anything.

"Well then grandma,” I said. “Let’s hit the roof."

The rain had stopped some time earlier, but the roof was still slick from the downpour, and the dropping temperature was already turning it into a sheet of black ice. My footing was unsteady, and I was shivering from the cold as we walked out towards the center of the rooftop. Josette didn't seem to notice it at all, her knee high white boots moving her effortlessly across the surface despite their four-inch heels. When we reached the center, she materialized her own sword and held it up in front of me. She noticed how much I was shaking and cocked her head to the side.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“It’s freezing out here,” I told her, crossing my arms and rubbing my shoulders. I guess I could have changed my shirt into a parka, but I had never seen any movies where the samurai wore heavy, puffy coats.

Josette laughed at me again. “Landon, you are Awake. Divine. You do not need to feel cold unless you choose to.“

“You make it sound so simple,” I said through chattering teeth.

“Your human mind believes you should be cold, and so you are,” she said. “Don’t listen to it. That is lesson number one.”

Don’t listen to it. Right. Don’t listen to it. I tried to distract myself from the cold. I imagined being on a beach in Florida, feeling the warm sun on my face. For a moment, I almost thought I might not feel cold. No, I did. It was freezing.

“Can’t do it,” I said.

The sword vanished again, and Josette walked over to where I was standing. She took my face in her hands and pulled me down so I was at eye level with her.

“You are standing on a rooftop, with your face three inches from an angel,” she said. “In the last six hours you killed a powerful demon, and swallowed its soul. You also healed from wounds that would kill any mortal. Now, tell me why you are cold.”

While she spoke, her golden eyes sparkled as though they contained all of time and space. She was using logic on me, and I was falling for it. I took a deep breath and nodded. She broke her gaze and stepped back.

“Well?” she asked.

I bent down and put my hand on the icy cement. I could feel the sensation of the freezing surface in my fingers, but it didn’t make me feel cold. Cold was a mortal sensation, and I was no longer mortal.

“I’m ready now,” I said, standing back up.

Josette smiled and her sword reappeared in her hand.

"How do you do that?" I asked her. It would make moving around a lot easier to not have to manage the four-foot long blade.

"Sorry Landon," she replied. "You have your own abilities, but that isn't one of them."

"Why not?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes, making me feel dumb again.

"Excuse me miss seven-hundred-year-old-seraph, “ I said, “but I've never been to the School for the Divine."

She giggled again and dismissed her weapon.

"Okay, I guess I need to give you at least a tiny bit of background before I start beating your brains in," she said, kneeling down and motioning for me to join her. "Most people talk about Heaven and Hell as if one is up there in the sky, and the other is somewhere near the core of the Earth."

She scratched out a rough globe with a cloud above it for Heaven and a flame below it for Hell. I tried to be nonchalant about the fact that she was using her fingernail to make the scratches in the blacktop. She put her hands outside of the pictogram and squished them inward, so that the three scratches all sat on top of each other. How did she do that?

"In reality, we're all on the same level, but we're not in the same… dimension, I guess," she said.

She was squinting as she tried to come up with a good description. It was adorable.

"It's not really a dimension,” she continued. “It's more like a state of being. Our souls can travel these states, but our shells can't. Of course, its not like we can just go anywhere we want. There are rules, and that assures that Heaven is never overrun with sinners or demons."

"And that the moderates are given a chance to prove where they belong?" I asked.

She nodded. "That came much later, but yes. Purgatory is the buffer, the demilitarized zone if you will, but you must already know about that. It's the reason you and I can never be friends."

I don't know why, but when she said that, it hurt. More than it probably should have, I hardly knew her after all.

"You think the Rapture is a good thing?" I asked.

Josette looked up at me, and her eyes flashed in anger, but she covered it up quickly.

"Let us not get into that, Landon,” she replied. “We will never agree. That is the nature of who we are, and it is best that we accept it and move on."

She had a point.

"So," she continued, "if Heaven is right here, but in another state of existence, than it is no large matter for a being such as myself who resides in both states to move from one to the other, at least in part. In essence, I can reach through from one dimension to another, where I know I left my blade."

"Neat trick," I said. "But why can't I do it?"

"Two reasons. The first is that you aren’t powerful enough, not yet anyway. It took me five hundred years to learn how to reach through the dimensions. The second is because you don't exist outside of this state," she said.

“You're saying that Purgatory is part of Earth?" I asked.

"Yes. And no." She stood up and swept the scratches away with her boot.

"How can that be?" I asked, rising to join her. "How could millions of souls be living here, and nobody has ever seen them, heard them, or knows that they exist?"

"We are Divine, Landon. We decide what mankind knows about us. We control them, in order to protect them."

Like in the park. The area where we had fought the Great Were had been deserted even though it was the middle of the day.

"Why do the demons control them?" I asked. It couldn't be to protect.

"To use," she said. "As you have already discovered, information is the highest form of power and control. People are easily corrupted by promises of knowledge that will give them an edge." The same way I had been. "Now put up your sword."

She spent the next hour instructing me on how to hold a sword without cutting myself on it. She said I was a natural, but she said it sarcastically. By the end of the hour I could almost hold the thing steady, but it felt heavy and awkward in my hand, and I had no confidence at all in my ability to use it. We took a break, and I grilled her a bit more.

“What happens when a Divine dies?” I asked. We were sitting cross-legged in the center of the rooftop facing one another, our blades resting across our legs.

She shook her head. “Dying as a Divine is like dying as a mortal. Nobody knows for sure what happens, only that we do not return to where we came from. As my Lord has no knowledge of this end, I have always thought that we cease to be.”

"I’ve been making the same assumption,” I said. “Demons can be killed by…" I hung the end of the sentence, waiting for her to finish it.

"A seraph's blade, as you have already learned. Many demons also have a weakness to one of the four elements of life. Which one depends on the type of demon. Lesser demons like werewolves are susceptible to earth. All Divines can be killed by decapitation. Including you."

Decapitation was not a pretty thought, but I had assumed as much. Once the head and body were separate, which one was going to grow back? I could picture myself like a hydra, duplicating every time something lopped off my noggin.

“Silver, wooden stakes?” I asked.

“It can slow earth sensitives down, but won’t kill,” she replied. “You’ve seen too many movies.”

"Part of it is true,” I said in my defense. “What about holy water?"

"Ineffective as a weapon,” she said, “but it can heal any demon inflicted wound. It helps us to counter our greatest weakness."

"Which is?" I asked.

She started to speak, then thought about it. "Our greatest known weakness I mean. We need blessed blades to kill a demon. All demons can harm us with little more than a fingernail. As long as they break the skin, their touch is poison."

"So what about mine?" I asked.

"Yours?" She was confused.

"My touch," I said.

I had posed the question innocently enough, but her face flushed again. She stammered out her reply. "I uh... I really don't know. I haven't... I haven't been in that situation before. With a diuscrucis."

"You sure are demure for a seven hundred year old," I said, trying to keep the conversation light. I found her reaction intriguing, but I wasn't about to press her on it.

Josette conjured her sword and pointed it at me. "Shut up and fight," she said between laughs.

She spent another hour teaching me basic technique, which meant how to swing the blade without losing control of it, and how to get myself back into position to either attack again or defend myself. The night was wearing on, and the weather was getting colder, so I appreciated the fact that I was now immune to temperature changes. The earlier rain returned as snow, falling in heavy flakes that clung to everything they landed on, including us.

"Seven hundred years would mean you lived in the middle ages," I said.

We were taking another break, and I had decided I wanted to know more about my teacher than I did about anything else. I was getting a little tired of demons and fighting, and it was the closest I could get to so-called normalcy.

Josette nodded. "I was born in Paris. My father was a wealthy merchant who had close ties to the Catholic Church. I grew up in a privileged household, and wanted for nothing. It was not always an easy life, for my parents were very religious, and punished my brother and I severely for our sins. Still, it was a good life, especially for those times. You may think I was perfect because I am a seraph today, but I was not always the most well-behaved child."

"Good enough for Heaven," I said. "Besides, what child can ever avoid making a little mischief?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Good enough. My brother and I, we used to go down into the city dressed in rags and act as beggars. We would take the money we collected and spend it on sweets."

Her eyes were alight with the pleasure of the memory, and I could feel the warmth of her radiating and soaking into my skin. She was silent for a moment while she reminisced, and then her mood changed.

"When our parents found out, they took us out to the barn and tied us to a post, then used a riding crop to give us ten lashes each,” she said. “Afterwards, they made us work to earn back all of the money we had stolen from the real poor, and go out to the city and distribute it to them."

I couldn't believe it. "Are you kidding me? Your parents sound like monsters."

She shook her head. "Do not misunderstand me, Landon. My parents could be as loving as they could be cruel, and the pain they inflicted served to teach us to be humble and always remember that service to God means caring for the less fortunate. I hated my parents for a time, because of what they had done, but after I had passed to Heaven, I realized what they had taught me."

"I'm sure there were less violent ways to teach a child a lesson like that," I said. I was getting angry thinking about it. Not that there was anything to do. I reminded myself that it had happened hundreds of years ago.

"You are right about that,” she said. “My parents spent many years in Purgatory due to their treatment of their children. In the end they proved that their souls were essentially good, and they were misguided in their faith. They sought me out as soon as they entered Heaven, and begged for my forgiveness."

That cooled my anger a little bit at least. "What about your brother? It sounds like you two were very close."

Her eyes dimmed so completely it was as if they had gone black. So much emotion in those eyes, it was an amazing thing to experience, though it seemed to amplify her feelings to the point that I was experiencing them too. It felt as though a ten thousand pound weight had been dropped on my chest as a mixture of sadness and fury.

"He did not respond as well to my parent's teachings," she said. "He became violent, angry, and withdrawn. He left home when he was sixteen."

Tears started rolling down her cheeks, and I could tell there was more she wanted to say, but wasn't able to. The answer was written in her eyes, in plain sight to me. He had killed her.

"Josette, it's okay," I said, reaching out and putting my hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to talk about it. I can see it in your eyes. I'm so sorry."

Those same eyes widened when I said that, and she turned her head away from me. She hadn't known I could read her like that. Not knowing any better, I had just assumed it was normal.

"Thank you," she said. "No matter how many years have passed, the memory is a torment on my soul."

I didn't think, just acted. I reached out and put my arms around her, wrapping her small body up into a hug. She stiffened at first, not expecting the maneuver, then melted into my arms.

"Seven hundred years, Landon," she said between open sobs. "Yet it still feels as if it happened yesterday. I joined the Order of Seraph because I didn't want such a fate to befall anyone else. I have saved hundreds of innocents from the hands of evil men and demons alike. Men that you will help one day."

She just had to say it. Maybe it was just due to her emotional state, but I didn't appreciate it. I pushed her out of the embrace, holding her at arms length.

"I'm all for saving innocents, Josette," I told her.

She smiled at me, wiping away my anger in an instant. "I believe that about you. And right now you can do so without consequence. What happens when the balance is restored, should good begin to triumph? That is the nature of who you are, and the mission that you have accepted. For all the good you may feel and show today, there is a devilish side to you, or you would not be what you are."

I didn't know what to say. She wasn't completely right, but she wasn't completely wrong. I had choked the Priest when he had resisted giving me what I wanted. I knew there was a part of me that could harm innocents if it meant achieving my goals. Admitting that to myself was difficult. It scared the crap out of me. Admitting it to her, impossible.

"I guess I'll worry about that if and when it happens," I said, letting go of her. "I have a lot of good work to do in the meantime." I went over and picked up my sword from where it was resting against the rooftop ledge. "Show me something else."

She didn't respond right away. She looked at me with a mix of fear and admiration. Her eyes told me as much. When she realized she was telegraphing her feelings to me, she turned away again.

"Please stop," she said.

"I'm not doing it on purpose," I told her. "Your eyes shift and change with your emotions. For whatever reason, I understand what the variations mean."

"You shouldn't be able to do that," she said.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"I don't know,” she replied. “It's making me uncomfortable though. I feel naked in a way that goes so far beyond the physical."

I understood her perspective, but the selfish part of me didn't want to give up watching her eyes. The experience of seeing her emotions that way was intoxicating.

"I'll try not to look at your eyes," I told her. "But you should know they are incredibly beautiful and expressive."

She reddened again, but didn't say anything. Her sword materialized in her hand. "Shall we?"

"Thank you for doing this Josette," I said.

"I am repaying a debt to you fellow,” she replied. “Nothing more."

I didn't want to look at her eyes, but I couldn't help stealing a glance. There was a hint of brighter golden flecks at the edges, which danced along the outer rim. She was lying. It was enough for me that I knew. I didn't call her on it.

"Still," I said. "Thank you."

The moment was broken by a scream that sent a shiver down the base of my spine. I felt an almost primal pull towards the source of the sound, a few blocks away from the rooftop where we stood. Josette had sensed it too, and she turned and began running along the rooftop in the direction of the noise. I stood frozen in place, watching her as she bounded onto the ledge of the building and leapt, landing on the opposite rooftop twenty feet away and continuing forward with ease. I knew what I had to do if I was to follow.

"Crap," I said, breaking into a run, following in the angel's footsteps.

I made the leap without a problem, and this time I decided to do a controlled roll, pitching my shoulder forward and flipping over and back to my feet as I hit the snowy ground and lost my footing. I was rewarded with a half success, my arm blossomed with pain as my shoulder dislocated, but I managed to get back up and start running forward again without losing too much momentum. By the time I pulled myself through the jump across to the next rooftop, my arm was healed.

I caught up to Josette leaning over the ledge of the building, peering down into the alley. I pulled up beside her and looked down. Two girls stood shivering together in a corner, holding each other for support while six men blocked their escape out of the alley. The girls were wearing short, tight skirts and down jackets, obviously heading to or from a club or party of some kind.

"Watch me," Josette said, "And try to learn something."

With that, she was over the ledge, dropping forty feet to the ground and landing ever so gently behind the men and the two girls. She didn't have her sword, not yet.

“Leave them alone, or I’m calling the police,” she said to them, getting their attention. All six turned to face her at once.

"What the hell is this," I heard one of the men say to the others.

"Are you lost little girl," another one said, laughing.

"You know what?" the first one asked his friends. "Now there's more to go around." They all laughed then.

The first one stopped laughing when Josette's foot connected with his face. There was an audible crack as his jaw crushed under the force, and a few of his teeth went flying from his mouth. He dropped like the sack of crap he was.

The second attacker fell before he could overcome his shock, a heeled boot to the groin creating more misery than he could handle. He lay on the ground twitching, and Josette turned her attention to the other four.

Knives had been pulled, and one of the scumbags had a gun. There was a loud pop, and Josette's arm was shoved violently back as blood sprouted from her shoulder. Two more pops, two more sprays of blood, and she fell backwards onto the ground.

Panicked, I jumped up onto the ledge, prepared to drop myself into the fray. I shouldn't have bothered though. I had forgotten a simple lesson that I already knew. As the gunman approached Josette to pour a few more rounds into her, she shot up at him, slamming him in the face with her palm. His head bounced backwards, his neck broken, and he fell to the ground.

I had thought seeing her leap back into action like that would have sent the remaining attackers running. Then I noticed that the first guy was back on his feet. His fingers had grown out into claws, and a set of fangs hung out of his mouth. Vampires!

He leapt up and clung to the side of the building across from me, circling around Josette while she was distracted by the other attackers, who had also revealed their true nature. I saw Josette reach for her sword, preparing to engage them. She didn't know the first one was getting the drop on her. I took that as my cue.

I flexed my legs and focused as I sprang from the rooftop, pulling myself across the gap and down onto the sneaky son of a bitch. It was a formless maneuver, but it worked. My body slammed into his, and we both plummeted to the ground. Luckily for me, he broke my fall. He hissed and growled beneath me in a mixture of anger and pain. I rolled off, more so I could get my bearings than in response to his protests.

He was one ugly dude, his features lumpy and twisted, his fangs crooked in his mouth. He rolled onto his knees. I didn't need any kind of special perception to know what came next. I ducked under his leap, and then turned to track him. I saw Josette out of the corner of my eye, her sword a blur as she twirled through the rest of the demonic mass. The second vampire had regained his senses and rejoined the fray as well.

I would have loved nothing more than to watch her and learn, as she had requested. Instead, I was preparing for the vampire's next move while wishing I had some silver on me. Heck, I would have settled for a wooden stake or some garlic and taken my chances. I crouched into the position Josette had taught me, even though I had neglected to bring my sword along for this ride. If nothing else it would help me react faster to my opponent's offensive. I hoped.

He eyed me cautiously, unsure of my position in the fight. He jerked left and right a couple of times, trying to judge my reaction time. Then he smiled, and I felt each individual nail of one of his buddies' hands slice its way down my back. I fell forward onto the ground, wondering what had happened to Josette that one had gotten past her. I listened for the sound of battle, but heard nothing. This was bad.

The wound healed quickly enough, but I decided to play injured while I got a better feel for the situation. I focused on my hearing, taking in the sounds around me. The shuffling of feet as the vampires rounded up the two girls, who were crying in between prayers. A body being dragged along the ground, the leather of her boots making a distinct noise against the pavement. The two a*sholes that dropped me were beginning to lean in to check on my health. I needed a plan, and fast.

Not enough time. They were on me in an instant. The vamp that nailed me from behind rolled me over, grabbed my throat, and lifted me up as high as his arm could reach. I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I spit on him.

He didn't like that very much. He responded by rearing back and throwing me at the side of the building. My face slammed into the brick, my nose shattering from the force. I hit the ground and rolled over to face them, my vision fuzzy. I could make out the two girls being tied up together. I could see Josette's prone form leaned against the building opposite me. My attackers had lost interest in me, either taking me for dead or just not feeling at all threatened. I coughed out some blood and rose to my feet.

I looked over at Josette, and my anger flared. I didn't seem to be able to control much of my power yet, but it seemed to have a way of making itself known when I got pissed or beat up. I could feel it now in the base of my spine, strength I couldn't tap into in calmer moments. It called to me, begged for release, a siren's call to accept what was offered. All reason vanished as my human mind faded into the background, replaced with clear burning purpose.

I knew myself, but lost myself. My mind became an engine to a singular goal, my emotions devolving into chaos. I could feel every vein and muscle in my body. I could hear the roar of my blood vessels pumping energy into me. I heard my clothes tearing as my body shifted and changed, into what I didn't know and in the moment couldn't care. I let out a roar so loud it shook the entire alley, breaking the lower windows of the buildings around me. This got the vampires' attention. As one they turned to look at me. I could smell their fear. It was intoxicating.

I heaved myself forward with unexpected speed and ease, leaping the distance between the vampires and myself. I grabbed the nearest one in both hands and easily ripped his head from his torso, taking pleasure in the sound of the tearing, the end of his existence. I rounded on the others, lashing out and cutting another from head to toe with my razor sharp claws. Their confidence was shattered, their fear ruling their actions.

They moved as one to get away from me, breaking off down the alley at a run. I crouched and leaped, landing on another vampire's back and ripping his head from his shoulders. I pounced again and shredded the fourth. Moments later I had dismembered the remaining attackers and turned back to where the two girls were standing, silent and motionless, hoping I wouldn't notice them.

I bounded down the alley on all fours, stopping in front of them. I looked down on the pitiful creatures, my eyes drawn to the shadowy darkness at the center of their chests. I shifted back into my human form, dressed in a pair of black pants, a white shirt with a vest over it, and a long leather morning jacket. I had a small dagger in my hand, and one thought on my mind.

The girls trembled as I approached them, drew back in fear as I raised the dagger. I brought it close to the taller one. She had long raspberry blonde hair and smelled like lemon. I pressed it against her chest, then slid it down to begin cutting through her blouse.

My heart thudded in my chest, and my mind was overwhelmed by every sense of them - the sight, the smell, the anticipation of the taste and touch. A small voice in my mind told me to stop, but I couldn't. I wanted this so much. My mind was mired in an evil place, no longer completely my own. I had traded control for power, and the power filled me with a primal lust.

I don't know what would have happened if Josette hadn't come to. I don't know what I would have done to those girls if she hadn't stopped me. One moment I was preparing to do vile things to them, the next I was skewered on the end of her sword.

She ran it through my stomach and used it to pull me back, away from the girls. She produced a dagger to cut their bonds, held her hand up to them, and whispered something in a language I didn't understand. They gained this blank, confused expression and fled from the alley. Josette turned me on the sword and slammed me back up against the wall.

"Landon," she said.

I didn't know who Landon was... yes, I did. I was Landon. Wasn't I?

"I warned you about the cost of using the demon’s power," she said.

Demon's power. I tried to make sense of the words. They sounded like little more than moans through mud. It was slow, but the pain helped me stay focused on it. The power. I could still feel the source of it, pulsing in my spine, reveling in the chaos and destruction, screaming out in agony at the blade that was piercing my flesh.

Chaos. Destruction. Demon. My mind started to put the puzzle pieces together. The process was slow and agonizing, but I wrested back control, forcing the power to subside. All the while, Josette held me against the wall, her golden eyes fearful and sad.

"Josette," I said. "It hurts."

She knew I was back. I don't know how. She pulled the sword from my gut and took a shaky step back. Her own energy was exhausted, and she was bleeding from her temple. The second the blade was free. I fell to the ground, first to vomit, and then to sob. What had I done? What had I almost done? What had I become? It was all too much for me to handle. My body quaked as I cried.

Josette knelt down next to me and put her hand on my shoulder. She didn't say anything. She just let me know she was there. I appreciated it. It was something sane and peaceful for me to grab onto, to identify myself with. The pain took some time to subside, the pace of my healing seemed to be affected by the source of the wound.

After what seemed like hours I was able to calm myself, to stop the flow of tears, to roll to a sitting position. When I looked at Josette, I saw that she had been crying too.

"Let's get out of here," I said to her.

She nodded, and we helped each other to our feet. I tried to ignore the disintegrating bodies of the vampires as we made our way out of the alley. Sure, they were demons. Sure they were evil, at least in the greater hierarchy of the Divine. It didn't make the act of killing any easier.

We carried each other back to my room at the Belmont. Once we got there, I doused another rag with holy water and put it over the wound on her head. She smiled at me as I did it, placing her hand over mine.

"The demon will try to entice you with promises of power," she told me. "Do not give in. What he seeks is to own you, or to destroy you so that he can be set free."

"I never meant for this to happen," I said. "How do I stop it?"

"I will teach you,” she said. “But not tonight. Rest now, Landon. You have earned it."

She took my hand and kissed it, my body electrified by the warmth of her lips. I had intended to crash on the couch, but I didn't make it that far. One moment I was awake, the next I wasn't. When morning came, she was gone.





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