Angelus (20 page)

“I love you too,” she finally said in the smallest voice.

Kim gripped her tightly.

An aura of incredible sadness surrounded him. He was like a defeated man—not at all the hard personality she'd first met in Luz. It was like a part of him had broken. Then wetness touched her cheek and she knew Kim was crying. His cries grew into deep sobs that shook Angela down to her soul, and there was nothing she could do except hold him in their lonely moment that, instead of moving time forward, made it pause as if for eternity.

They escaped into a long hall connected to a corridor outside of the room where Angela had been imprisoned. Whatever mansion she was in, it was absolutely huge. Black and white tiles checkered the hall's floor and mirrors gleamed from the walls at regular intervals. Stained-glass windows reached high up to a ceiling with stone angels perched on arches and columns. Large lamps hung from ledges jutting from the walls, and a strange bluish light emanated through their glass.

Angela stared at the lamps, comparing them to the light of the souls in the catacombs.

Her left eye burned, and she heard thousands of whispers assaulting her ears at once.

Kim continued to speak to her in hushed tones. They weren't the only people walking around. Angela broke from her trance.

She lowered her head as they passed a novice, then a priest, and then a group of students in heavy muffs who glared at her suspiciously. Kim often stopped to talk with one person or another. Thankfully, no one seemed to recognize him. Perhaps those few individuals who knew him had left Luz.
But everyone seemed to regard Angela with curiosity at the very least. Kim acted like Angela was in his custody, which was true to some extent.

They were halfway to the exit when a man in a dark suit stopped them. Angela peeked up at him. She recognized his face but couldn't quite place it.

“Taking her down to the lower levels of the building?” he said to Kim confidentially.

Kim nodded and murmured something Angela couldn't quite hear.

“Well, you wouldn't mind if I took a look at her myself, then? From the first instant I saw her, I thought to myself . . . I know that one. I'll just be a minute. How are you, dear?” the man quickly said to Angela before Kim could protest.

She kept her head down.

“They're all shy now,” the man said, shaking his head. “Such a pity. I've been buying as many of them as I can. The young ones have been put up for auction. Hair like this will be such a rarity someday. I want to make an investment if we all get through whatever disaster comes next. There's no clear reason why they all have to die anyway.”

Angela bit her lip. Hot rage boiled in her veins. Redheaded students were commodities now?
Things to be bought and sold?

“Besides, you're far too lovely to expire at such a young age,” the man said.

Angela bristled at his disgusting tone. She looked at Kim, who shook his head and mouthed the word
no
. This wasn't the time to insist on her dignity. Angela fought the urge to grab the man by the neck and throttle him.

“Look at me,” the man said sharply. He grabbed Angela by the chin, forcing her to stare him right in the eyes.

He examined her face for a few moments. “No,” he said sullenly. “You look much like a young blood head whose paintings I viewed shortly after she first came to the Academy. In fact, you could be her twin. But your eyes . . .”

He seemed unable to stare at her anymore. He relinquished his grip like she'd burned him.

“Well, good luck,” he said, patting Kim on the shoulder. “I heard some of them give the bloodletters a hard time. This one looks a bit feisty if you ask me.”

As he left, Angela lost her cool and nearly lunged at him before Kim grabbed her and held her back, giving her a poignant look.

“Bastard,” Angela whispered.

“Luz is full of them now,” Kim whispered back. “Especially now that Lucifel's influence has grown. Her cult is becoming more obvious than ever.”

Angela was too angry to speak for a while. She smoothed down her black-and-red skirt and continued to walk by Kim's side. Very soon, she'd free most of those blood head students and then men like that monster would be sorry. “You mentioned that it's now a matter of either opening Sophia or creating new stanzas to the Angelus,” Angela dared to murmur when the most recent group of people had passed them. “What is the Angelus, though? I've never heard it.”

“Yes, you have,” Kim replied just as softly. “It's the lullaby Sophia likes to sing.”

Angela stopped in the middle of the hall. People sidestepped them and cast some irritated glances.

“What are you doing?” Kim hissed at her.

Angela wasn't listening. She thought of Sophia constantly evading Angela's questions about the meaning of the song. If the Angelus was the ultimate key to keeping the universe
from disintegrating, it must have had a strong connection to the world, and creation.

That meant Sophia did too.

Angela recalled that moment when Sophia spoke of dying in childbirth. Instantly, her mind jumped to her nightmarish visions of being born to the stars and torn apart. She remembered someone singing to her.

And loving her.

Angela's heart raced. She felt on the verge of the truth. If she could just reach out and grasp it. Without thinking, she touched her left eye—the Grail. Whose eye was it really? Hers? Angela's eye before she was murdered, and her body torn to bits? But who would have done such a thing to her? If only—if only she could—

“. . . Angela! Angela!”

Kim clasped her hand.

Angela gasped and looked deep into his eyes.

“Don't. Say. A word,” he whispered in warning. He nodded his head and looked warily down the hall. Three angels marched toward them, side by side and in perfect unison. The other people in the building all stopped whatever they were doing and stared in wide-eyed terror.

The angels were of course taller than everyone and dazzlingly perfect. Their large heavily lined eyes scanned down to people's souls, and as they walked barefoot toward Angela she noticed the shimmering quality of their feet, as if they'd been powdered in glitter. The cuffs on their wing bones, though, were the same as the angel's who'd attacked her in Memorial Cemetery. As if they were of one mind, each angel zeroed in on Angela.

She stood still and felt very alone as they stopped a foot away and stared her down. One of the angels carried a thin
crossbow at his back. The other wielded a crystal dagger at his hip. None of them looked kind or understanding. It was the angel boasting thick black hair and dark wings who stepped closer to her.

She gazed back at him fearlessly. He examined her openly, lingering with special interest on Angela's left eye.

Angela clenched her fists, trying to stop her arms and hands from shaking. She could hear Kim breathing behind her. His hand brushed her wrist, and it was obvious he wanted to hold her, to calm her or even protect her. But that would give everything away.

“What is your name?” the angel asked.

“Marie,” Angela lied.

The angel seemed to sense she wasn't telling the truth. He stepped closer, his height and handsomeness even more intimidating. Israfel's presence oozed elegance and grace, and the sight of him had always made Angela hunger desperately for more. These angels, though, reflected a hardness in their expressions that spoke of Lucifel's influence. Now Angela noticed that one of them held something black and feathered by its wiry legs.

The angel thrust it in Angela's face.

Kim gasped softly behind her.

“Tell me, human,” the angel said too quietly. “Does this creature look familiar to you?”

Angela stared at the bird. Its body hung unnaturally stiff and its wings refused to close. Its eyes held no fire at all, but she didn't sense it was dead. Though she was very sure it might be at any second.

A sensation of dread clamped down on her like a vise. Her eyes watered and the world blurred.

“This is a Vapor that we caught soaring around the
Academy last night. Interestingly, it arrived shortly before you were found climbing out of the canals beneath Luz. A strange detail and a strange coincidence, don't you agree?”

“It's not familiar to me,” Angela croaked. But of course it was. Angela felt her knees weaken. Her breath threatened to vanish.

“That's interesting,” the angel continued. “Because as we gazed into its soul, we clearly saw someone who looks exactly like you. Indeed, that's the reason we found you right now. The Vapor's soul is calling to you. It led us to this place.”

Angela couldn't tear her gaze away from the crow. This had to be either Fury or Nina.

“You don't want to talk?” the angel said. He nodded at his companion with the crystal dagger.

The other angel pressed it to the crow's throat. Suddenly, the bird came to life, powerfully flapping its wings. The black-haired angel held on to its feet, but he gritted his teeth, obviously struggling.

Angela couldn't watch much longer. She could see the frustration in the angel's eyes. Finally, that frustration broke the surface as dangerously as she feared.

“Do away with the disgusting nuisance,” the angel's other companion said. “It's trouble enough. We found what we were looking for—”

The dagger-wielding angel set his blade to the struggling bird again.

Angela broke away from Kim, grabbing for the crow. The angel with the dagger was still at work, and he slipped, fighting for a moment with Angela.

She shrieked as the blade cut across her arm and blue blood streamed down to her fingers. The crow exploded out
of their grip. Now she saw the older, telltale rattiness of its feathers. It was Fury.

Escape while you can!
Angela shouted to Fury mentally.

Fury screeched and flew for the doors at the far end of the hall. People screamed and some fell to the floor, covering their heads. The angel with the crossbow notched it and aimed at Fury, but Angela was just as quick.

Angela willed her blood into her hands, light washed over her, and she summoned most of the Glaive. Its wickedly curved blade absorbed the light in the room, throwing it back in an ethereal shade of blue. The souls trapped in their lanterns began to dance. Noise exploded around them, and song, just like in the catacombs.

Angela took down the angel with the crossbow first, ramming him hard in the back with the Glaive's haft.

He fell, and she turned on his companions. One lost a hand still clutching his dagger. Kim screamed for Angela as the black-haired angel grabbed for her.

She sliced half his wing off.

Blood splashed everywhere. The angel screamed in agony and slammed to the ground. Angela forced the Glaive to collapse and slipped on all the blood as she turned and ran with Kim. Dizziness swallowed her. She was still too weak to use the weapon to its full potential. Now they were vulnerable, and even though no one tried to stop them yet, Angela knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

But what choice did she have at the time? They were going to kill Fury.

I'm not worth more lives lost . . .

Angela clutched her bleeding wrist and ran for the double mahogany doors they'd used to enter the hall. They
flew open, revealing an enormous group of priests, novices, Academy officials, and even a few angels, at the head of the throng.

Before Kim and Angela could take another step, the angels notched their bows and aimed arrows sparking with energy at her head.

A dead silence overcame everyone. Angela could only wonder: what might have happened if she'd allowed Fury to die? But she had no regrets. She refused to.

A sharp exchange of words passed between a few Vatican officials, including a man in a red robe and hat who Angela knew as Bishop Kline. They gestured in her direction. She looked at Kim as four priests walked toward them and tugged their hands behind their backs, cuffing them. Kim said nothing. His grave face could have been chiseled from marble. Was he, too, agonizing inside over their failed escape, their inability to save the other red-haired women now that they'd been caught?

Yet behind his eyes Angela saw what she undeniably felt: a fire that she'd be damned they could bleed out of her.

Nina perched on an icy ledge below one of the Emerald House's gabled windows. She tapped furiously with her beak on the pane, praying Sophia would hear her and lift the sash. Snow lay heavily on the deserted streets, but angels were certainly patrolling the nearby turrets. Nina folded her wings and tried to wait patiently, the cold air biting her like fangs all the while.

Finally, the pane slid open.

Nina glided inside, maneuvering around Sophia. She landed in front of the warm glow of the fireplace and shook out her feathers, relishing the sensation of the velvet area rug beneath her frozen feet. The rest of the house sat in a gloomy darkness strewn with cobwebs. It was clear that no one had resided here since Sophia said she and Angela had entered Hell, and in that time the Academy had barricaded the mansion's doors for good.

That made it the perfect place for Nina, Sophia, and Fury to hide as they waited for some sign that Angela was safe and, they hoped, nearby. In the meantime, Sophia had tasked her
self with taking in and protecting as many red-haired female students as possible. The bloodlettings in the Academy were an ill-kept secret by now all throughout Luz, but Sophia had been sure that as long as she, and Nina, and the others kept a low profile, none of the angels would suspect their presence for quite a while.

She'd been right so far. But their luck could run out at any time.

Now that Fury had been captured . . .

Nina shifted into her customary human shape, but she could only stare at Sophia and the more trustworthy members of the Vermilion Order gathered in the den. Her mouth opened and shut again. Why was it so hard to tell them what had happened? Was it because she felt like a failure?

If only she and Fury hadn't let their guard down at such a crucial moment. The good thing was that Nina had seen Angela. She was alive, thank God. But Angela was now also in the clutches of the Academy officials, and Fury had been captured by angels—a terrible turn of events that was sure to mean trouble for them all.

Nina could still feel one of the angel's arrows whistling by her, ruffling her feathers with its wind and dazzling her eyes with its light.

It was hard to believe it hadn't struck her right in the heart. The breathless chase afterward would have been enough to make it burst anyway if Nina hadn't managed to lose the angels in a tangle of leaning Academy towers.

Only now did she realize her chest hadn't lost a fraction of its terrified tightness.

She slid to her knees, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“Were you spotted?” a red-haired young man with glasses and a long coat said as he stepped forward.

He was just one of many more blood head students and Vatican novices sitting in the shadows. Some had claimed the velvet upholstered armchairs; a few took the mahogany dining chairs, or nestled on the brocade sofa; and then there were those who'd claimed the warmest spots at the foot of the fireplace. But Nina didn't see any of the female students they'd rescued so far. Perhaps they were still sleeping upstairs or recuperating from their horrible ordeal.

“Yes,” Nina said softly, but her words felt so heavy. “I was spotted. And Fury was captured by angels.”

Groans of dismay took over.

Sophia had followed Nina from the window and then seemed to disappear. She must have gone to the kitchen, because now she knelt down in front of Nina with a glass of water. Nina took it gratefully, savoring each drop. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stay sane as the next words left her mouth. “I also saw Angela.”

Nina had been handing her glass back to Sophia.

Sophia gasped at the news. Her grip slipped and the glass smashed on the floor. Her eyes looked pitch-black in the flickering candlelight. “Don't tell me the bloodletters have her?” Sophia said. Her voice almost cracked with horror.

“They do,” Nina managed to say.

Sophia's mouth tightened to a line. She stared into the golden fire, seeming to think. Questions flew at her from all directions, but Sophia said nothing, only turning back to everyone after a long while.

The noise died down. Every face turned to regard her.

None of them knew Sophia was the Book of Raziel. Even the novices had bought the story that Sophia was a Vapor like Nina and Fury, only more special. They knew she'd been a close familiar of Angela Mathers and that was all.

“We've reached the crucial moment,” Sophia began. She looked at each face in turn. “Eventually we knew the angels would find us, though we hoped it would be at the world's end if it came down to it. Luckily, we've escaped notice until now. But mark my words, the angels will see into Fury's soul and be upon us soon. So we don't have much time.”

“We can't just leave,” a red-haired novice clasping a book in her hands said fearfully. “Where else will we go?”

“That's just it,” Sophia said, turning to her. “We do have to leave. At least—some of us do.” Her tone grew even more grave, and Nina felt her heart thrum and burn. “Angela is humanity's—the universe's—last hope for survival. If she dies, so do we all. So I'm going to ask some of you to come with Nina and me to rescue her—or to try. Of course, you might not return. Yet I won't judge anyone who chooses to stay behind. There are girls ranging in age here from five years old to eighteen and they need people to care for them while they heal.”

Murmurs and whispers rippled through the people gathered in the room.

“I ask anyone willing to help us to come up here and stand with me by the fireplace.”

Now everyone except one strawberry-blond novice with thick braids left their seats close to the fireplace. She stood and walked to Sophia's side, joining the male student with his thick glasses, two more female students, and a male novice who kept his gaze fixed on the floor, as if he'd found his fate there.

Sophia spoke in whispers to those who'd gathered near her. Then she turned back to everyone else again. “Thank you. I sincerely hope you feel in your heart that you made the choice you feel is best. Good luck, and pray for our success.”

Nina walked over to join them and heard Sophia whisper to her little crowd, “Follow me . . .”

They trudged up the staircase nearby as a group.

Darkness overtook them. Nina slid her hand against the florid wallpaper that ran the length of the staircase up into the upper hall. Only one candle glowed in its sconce at the top of the stairs. Oddly, Sophia paused to blow it out.

A deep silence overtook everyone as they walked down the long hallway to a narrow door at the far end. Dust lay heavily everywhere. Their shoes tapped with uncomfortable loudness against the wooden floors.

Nina was last in line, but she swore she heard a heavy trotting sound behind her.

She turned in time to spot phosphorescent yellow eyes, a mane, and long bestial legs traveling within the shadows as if they were a living part of them. An echoing snort reached her, though no one else seemed to hear or notice. Nina paused for a moment and watched in dumbstruck amazement as the winged Kirin Angela had ridden out of Hell emerged into full view only to disappear into a pocket of black and empty space again, as if it had jumped from one dimension to another. If she hadn't been looking in the right direction, she might have missed the beast entirely. It was following their group, and Nina had the strong sense she spotted the creature only because she was a Vapor.

Nina folded her arms and shivered a little anyway, stopping with everyone else at the narrow door.

She looked back into the darkness again.

The Kirin's great eyes flashed once and disappeared.

“Before we enter this room,” Sophia said to their group, “I want everyone to promise me that they will stay silent about what they're going to see. Please don't say a word, and
let me and Nina do all the talking—otherwise you can be certain you might find yourself in real trouble.”

Sophia's gaze met Nina's.

She set her petite hand on the knob and turned it with a nasty creaking noise.

The door seemed to swing open on its own. In reality, Sophia was pushing it with the edge of her slipper. She peeked inside, and then gestured for their little group to file in one by one. Nina noted, though, that Sophia was careful to be the first to actually step over the threshold.

To the more ordinary humans among them, the room was probably pitch-black. But Nina's new eyes could make out most of its hidden features. It was a spare bedroom with a thick queen-size bed, a set of wooden dressers, and heavy drapery that blocked out almost all the light from the angelic city on Luz's skyline. Nothing seemed unusual—until she noted the wiry shadow in the room's farthest, darkest corner. It moved slightly, revealing a single sickle-shaped wing. Yellow eyes like the Kirin's flashed from the darkness.

The male novice balked. He grabbed Nina because she happened to be standing closest to him, and his fingers felt like claws.

“A Jinn,” he whispered.

The yellow eyes rested their gaze right upon him. He stiffened with terror.

“Then . . . you've found her,” a voice hissed from the direction of the deep darkness, and the gaze attached to it left the novice and returned to Sophia.

“Yes,” Sophia said tersely. “It's time to get Angela back.”

Chilling laughter nailed them all to wherever they stood. “I've been waiting for this,” Troy said, as she slunk nearer to their group. She licked her nails, as if relishing what they
were about to do. Nina could make out the cold flash of Troy's teeth as she grinned. “Those angels laugh at death as they inflict it on others,” Troy said.

Her voice held a dire prophecy.

“That's because they never met me.”