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now& yes, now everything had changed. Yet another step.
 The sword, he said.  You say you want one, but could you really take a life?
 Yes, she replied, the assertion offered without any hesitation.  I have before. Demon life,
that is, not human, just so we re clear.
Surprising that she d found the strength to defeat an enemy most of her kind couldn t see and
often denied.  Even still, I will not give you a sword of fire. I cannot, for only my kind may
carry them.
 Oh, she said, disappointed.
 But there are other ways.
Immediately she brightened.  Will you teach me?
He did not have time. He had an army to train, battles of his own to fight. And he did not like
the thought of her fighting a race of creatures without any limits to their depravity. But whoever
had marked her would want her back, whether he d left her willingly or not especially when he
learned that Zacharel had her. More than one-upping each other, demons lived for one-upping
angels. And this demon would not hesitate to hurt Annabelle in the vilest of ways to do so. No
demon would.
How she had survived even this long, Zacharel wasn t sure.
 Yes, he found himself saying.  I will teach you how to kill demons.
CHAPTER SIX
THANE RETURNED TO ZACHAREL S cloud with a dossier about Annabelle Miller s
very short, very miserable life. The new leader of the Army of Disgrace, as so many of their peers
had begun to call them, accepted it with his customary politeness. Meaning, none at all. Zacharel
was as cold as always, offering no murmurs of thanks but giving a curt nod of dismissal.
More and more, Thane actually liked the warrior s directness. Liked Zacharel, too, and that
was a fact that shocked him to the marrow of his bones. He hadn t been part of an actual army for
more than a hundred years, and he never would have joined another if his Deity had not comman-
ded him to follow Zacharel& or else.
At first, Thane had seethed. How dare anyone tell him how to spend his time? If he wanted to
laze in bed, seduce any female that caught his eye and fight every demon he encountered, he
would. But what he decided, his boys decided. They were one for all and all for one, or however
the humans said it. That s how things worked with the three of them. He, Bjorn and Xerxes were
in this together, whatever this happened to be, and he could not allow them to rebel because he
could not allow them to suffer the consequences. Thane could endure anything but that.
Now, three months into their new arrangement, he was suddenly glad he had not rebelled.
Well, he had rebelled against Zacharel with little insults here and there, but he had also joined the
army rather than fall. He realized the lack of leadership and structure had rubbed him raw, that his
life had been nothing but a chaotic mess and he d needed order somewhere.
Thane flew to The Downfall, a pleasure house in the Deity s section of the heavens. Over the
centuries, more and more of the Deity s angels had succumbed to temptations of the flesh. They
had needed a place to indulge without judgment from anyone but themselves, and so Thane had
given them one.
The Downfall belonged to him. He, Bjorn and Xerxes lived there, as did the immortal lovers
they kept. Lovers that never lasted long, for each male preferred new and different.
Despite this proclivity, they had not yet warranted the ultimate fall, though Thane knew they
teetered on the brink.
Angels in the Deity s faction fell from grace because they welcomed evil into their hearts, be-
cause they habitually cheated, stole, lied yes, it was possible or committed cold-blooded
murder. Because they succumbed to the follies of hatred, envy, fear or pride, or because they re-
fused to turn away from some sort of depravity.
They were not to aid a demon, or seek revenge against another angel for a perceived offense.
They were to bring their grievances before the Heavenly High Council.
Since Thane s escape from a demon prison those hundred years ago, he and his boys had done
everything but aid a creature of the dark. He wasn t sure why they had been given this chance.
If they failed to correct their behavior, their sins would eventually catch up to them. He knew
that. But still Thane could not bring himself to change. He was what the demons had made him.
Stars twinkled all around him as he landed on the roof of the towering building. He d chosen
brick-and-mortar rather than a cloud, for he d suspected too many patrons would have taken ad-
vantage, commanding the cloud to produce all manner of illicit things. Plus, clouds were ex-
pensive. While he could afford one, and could have chosen to live separately from the club, he
knew himself well enough to know that he, too, would have taken advantage.
Two doorways were accessible from the roof. One led to the club itself, and the other to his
private chambers. Two angelic guards stood at attention on either side of both. He nodded to the
pair in front of his personal entrance, and they moved aside. A mental command caused the
wide double doors to glide open.
The slow bump and grind of music echoed from below as he strode down the empty hallway
to his sitting room, where Bjorn and Xerxes waited. Both reclined in plush velvet chairs and
sipped at their drinks of choice.
Thane stopped at the wet bar and poured himself a tumbler of absinthe. He turned, leaned
against the marble counter. This sanctuary was a study of indulgence, he thought as he scanned
the room. Everywhere he looked he saw treasures given to him by kings, queens, immortals and
even humans. Intricately carved tables, polished to a glossy shine. Couches and chairs draped in
luxurious fabrics, each a different jewel tone. The rarest of rugs, chandeliers dripping with pre-
cious gems rather than crystals.
 Has Zacharel begun shagging the human yet? Bjorn asked. He was, perhaps, one of the
most beautiful angels ever created, his skin gilded with all that gold, his eyes like a mosaic of
the most expensive of amethysts, sapphires, emeralds and tourmaline.
But Thane remembered a time when the warrior had not looked so pretty. Their captors had
chained Thane to the filthy floor of their cell and strung Bjorn up above him. Over the ensuing
days, those same demons had peeled the skin from Bjorn s body, careful, so careful not to dam-
age the flesh. Blood had rained upon Thane in a continuous flow, soaking him.
Oh, how the warrior had screamed& at first. By the end, his lungs had deflated and his throat
had been nothing but pulp. The demons had then taken turns wearing the skin as a coat, laugh-
ing, pretending to be Bjorn while performing all kinds of lewd acts.
Xerxes had been chained to the wall across from them, his stomach pressed into the stone,
his arms shackled over his head, his legs pried apart. He was forced to listen to everything that
was done to his friends, but unable to see it. And maybe that was worse. He d never known what
happened around him as he was whipped and& other things were done to him.
The horror of his time in that cell had wiped all color from his once auburn hair and peach-
tinted skin, leaving him as white as milk. Blood vessels had burst in his once amber eyes, turn-
ing the irises red.
None of them ever spoke of their incarceration and torture, but Thane knew just how his
friends really were. After every fight, Bjorn spiraled out of control. After every sexual en-
counter, Xerxes vomited. But neither one would stop the fighting or the bedding.
Thane had learned to embrace this side of himself.
 Someone s lost in his thoughts, Bjorn said. The spiral from this last battle hadn t yet hit
him& but it would. It always did.
 Feed him his teeth, Xerxes suggested.  He ll respond, I promise.
They d asked him a question, hadn t they& about Zacharel and the human, he recalled.
 What do you think? he at last replied.  Zacharel was in his office, writing a report about [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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