Lost In Time: A Fallen Novel (33 page)

“Honestly?” Victor asked. “We didn’t anticipate that equation. He wants into the infernos, and this is his chance, why wouldn’t he take it?”

“Because he is not an idiot,” Marcus snarled and leapt to the next building.

Victor stayed at his side. “If you go any farther you will be out of the safe zone. You could ruin the entire plan, and it won’t be one we will be able to do again, he has one chance.”

“I won’t sit back and watch her die,” Marcus said, making the leap to the next building.

He could hear Victor snarling. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that before. I think by you,” Marcus whispered back, his eyes never leaving the car.

Calliope came out of nowhere. One moment Marcus was crouched in the shadows, and the next thing he knew Garrett was flying through the air and over the edge of the building.

“Shit,” Victor growled. He pulled a scythe from within the shroud he wore and swung it at the Reaper as he swooped down to attack again.

Christian pulled a sawed off shotgun from the inside of his own shroud. Cocking it, he fired it directly into Calliope.

“Do you think me a fool?” Calliope screamed falling back with the blast of the shotgun.

“We could hope.” Victor’s words were quiet as he stepped in shining the scythe as he went black blood splattered against the brick and tar of the roof.

“They will be mine.” Calliope laughed he took flight. “I could care less of the Touched, but a Guardian and a Reaper? I will feed on their blood and make them scream for mercy.” Calliope looked down at Marcus. “Just like last time.”

Marcus didn’t hesitate; he Shifted into the back seat of the car. “Step on it,” he shouted.

Celeste didn’t even turn to look at him, but slammed her foot down on the gas, and they flew forward.

“We need to get him someplace where we can all fight him.” Marcus wracked his brain. “There’s an abandoned industrial park about four miles ahead.”

Marcus turned and looked back. The Reapers were holding Calliope back, but he knew it would be only a matter of time before they wouldn’t be able to hold him any longer.

Celeste followed Marcus’s directions. The moment they moved into the shadows of the first building, something huge slammed against the side of the car. The car flipped, spinning in the air it slid on its roof to a stop, glass shattering and metal bending.

“Out, get out of the car,” Marcus shouted.

He had hit his head, and blood was trickling down his forehead into his eyes, but he watched as Celeste kicked out the safety glass of the windshield, and he pushed her through the opening. Jessica had at some point Shifted out of the car.

“Bitch,” he snarled, following Celeste.

Celeste looked around her breathing heavy. “Bitch left, didn’t she?”

Marcus nodded, and Celeste kicked cement. “Chicken shit bitch. When this is done she and I are going to have a serious argument.”

Marcus would actually like to see that, but at the moment he was more worried about getting through the next few minutes. Garrett and Christian appeared as a black wing swung at them, throwing Marcus and the two Reapers against the building.

When his vision cleared, he saw Victor standing at Celeste’s side. He wielded the scythe like it was an extension of his arm, as did Celeste with the sword.

He was so amazed he was immobilized. Her shroud had dropped away and her beautiful red hair swung around her, slashing with the sword at Calliope. She crouched and swung, using every bit of her body in the fight, not just the sword. Barely stepping out of Calliope’s reach or the swing of his deadly taloned wings.

Victor swung the scythe at the Reaper several times, barely missing Celeste. But it only took a moment of watching them to understand they played off of each other picking up where the other left off. Feeling in each other’s holes, when Celeste moved right, leaving an opening on her left Victor swung in to protect it.

However, Calliope fought tirelessly. Screaming, blood splattered the walls of the empty buildings around them. He ragged against them.

Marcus scrambled to his feet and pulled out guns he had holstered and fired into the Reaper. Calliope didn’t even flinch.

Jessica reappeared, holding a large colander she threw the contents on the Reaper. He screamed and backed away, but not before he caught Jessica with one of his wings he flung her back into the shadows.

“Jessica,” Marcus shouted her name, as she flew into the shadows. But he didn’t have time to worry about her, Celeste, and the other Reapers were still in danger.

”What the hell was that?” Garrett asked.

“Holy water I would assume,” Christian offered, pulling a ball and chain from the inside of his shroud he shrugged the garment off. “Time for that bastard to die.”

The three men pushed forward, joining Victor and Celeste as they fought off the Reaper. “Attack his wings so he can’t escape,” Victor shouted.

Marcus emptied his guns into the Reapers shoulders and base of his wings. Flinching just a little, as he remembered how badly it hurt to lose ones wings. Celeste backed up to Marcus.

“I have a blade in each boot.” Marcus bent down and grabbed a blade from each of Celeste’s boots. He stood and started slashing at the Reaper whenever he could get into reach.

Calliope howled in pain and attempted to take flight but he wasn’t going anywhere.

Celeste moved forward. “Time to die,” she said, lifting the Black Sword.

Everything happened so fast, Marcus wasn’t sure for a moment if it was real or not. One second Calliope was laying on the asphalt, his blood pouring from him. Celeste was holding the Black Sword over her head ready for the killing blow.

Then one working wing came forward piercing Celeste deep in the chest, it picked her up off her feet, the Black Sword clattered to the ground as she was lifted her hands going to the wing as he shook her.

Marcus screamed in pain and fury. With a shrug Calliope flung her aside. She flew through the air like a rag doll. Garrett and Christian caught her. Victor let out a horrifying bellow of rage as he attacked Calliope, who lay laughing, his blood coating the cement. Marcus knew Victor couldn’t wield the sword against him. Knew that the only person that could wield the sword was laying with a gaping wound in her chest.

Marcus stumbled over to her. He grabbed her face in his hands as Garrett and Christian returned to the fight.

“I love you, Celeste. Tell me you feel the same way. I just need to hear the words.” He felt tears searing down his face, he hadn’t cried since the day he had fallen from the heavens. “I need to know what I am about to do is not in vain.”

Celeste opened and closed her mouth her eyes rounding in shock and pain.

“Say it,” he barked. Her violet eyes stared up into his. “For the Mother of all the Gods say it,” he begged, as the light started to fade from her beautiful eyes.

When her mouth opened blood trickled out, and he knew she was fading and he felt as if the world as he knew it was coming to an end. He had no choice, leaning down he kissed her bloodied lips. “I love you enough for the both of us regardless of what you think or tell yourself.”

And then he gently laid her down. If she was going to die, then he was going to go out fighting himself. She reached for him, and he kissed her fingertips, but then turned back, sweeping the Black Sword up he joined the fight.

Darkness tingled up his arm, it was pure power and darkness, and he couldn’t help but be thrilled by it, while part of him knew it was wrong. But he was going to avenge the pain Celeste was in, avenge her and everything else Calliope had hurt.

Taking a running step, he blew past the Reapers and landed on top of Calliope the sword burring itself deep in the Reaper’s chest. His black eyes shown with surprise. Marcus had never felt as powerful as he did at that moment, and he tilted his head back, bellowing into the black heavens.

“My darkness now belongs to you,” Calliope gurgled, his hand reaching up he touched Marcus in the middle of the chest and laughed, splattering blood all over Marcus.

Marcus laughed, whipping the blood from his face. “Bring it on, bastard.”

Evil rolled up his arm where he clutched the sword and penetrated into his soul. He took it all, thrilling in the power, in the pain. It lanced through Marcus as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. He rolled away from the Reaper, pulling the Black Sword free as he went he
felt
as if it were attached to him. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Calliope twitched and then dissolved into black goo.

Dark shadows, voices like Banshee’s screeching, oozed from the ground around him sucking up what was left of Calliope and then seeping back into the ground. And then the pain lanced through him again. He screamed again. His body twitched, and then he seized completely.

“Get the damn sword away from him,” he heard Victor scream, but couldn’t be sure as his screams, and the pain increased. His back burned, and he rolled to his stomach, but it didn’t help. He could feel his back split open. Bones and cartilage rearranging itself.

Images of horrible atrocities, of darkness so black it was ink etching itself into his brain. As it swallowed him consuming any part of light within as it spread. He fought against it, holding onto the light, onto the love he had for Celeste. He opened his eyes, and she floated above him, glowing with light. He reached for her, but the blackness swallowed her before he could reach her, and he screamed in rage and pain for the loss. He had never felt a pain so intense, not even his fall from the heavens hurt like this. He lunged out as someone touched him, slicing through whoever it was. He screamed as souls that had been trapped in Calliope fought for release.

He vomited, releasing the souls, his body racked and heaved as they clamored for freedom. He heaved over and over again as the pain in his back steadily grew. Bones cracked, as he rolled onto his hands on knees. He threw his head back and screamed to the heavens.

Inky blackness sucking at him he fought against it, knowing that if he gave into it he wouldn’t ever see the light again.

****

“This wasn’t the plan,” Dante bellowed. Flashing in, he stood over Marcus as he wailed and screamed, souls oozing from him. “Collect the souls, Christian. Victor see to your sister.”

Victor rushed over to Celeste where she leaned against the building. Everything in her hurt, but she pushed herself away from the wall and with the help of her brother, he brought her over to Marcus.

“What is happening to him?” she groaned, blood spraying onto him. She realized she was still bleeding.

“He is changing.” Dante narrowed his eyes at Marcus and shook his head. “I should kill him now.”

“NO!” Celeste fell down next to Marcus and even though he fought her, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I beg of you, Father, please do not destroy him. He will come through this.”

“And you know this how?” Dante asked.

“Because he is a good man, a soul of light,” she cried, her bloody tears mixing with the blood Marcus was spilling. She felt the edges of her conscious blur. “I beg you, Father.” It was the last thing she remembered saying as blackness swamped her.

“He should be destroyed,” Dante said again.

Victor picked Celeste up, cradling her in his arms. “Hasn’t she suffered enough, Father?”

“You question me?” Dante demanded, his voice booming through the dark night.

Victor didn’t back down. “Yes. She is everything that is good in any world and you would destroy the one thing she wants above everything else.”

Dante swore. He turned to Christian who had collected the last of the souls that had erupted from Marcus. Garrett held his arm where Marcus stabbed him as he had tried to take the sword from him.

“Clean everything up.” Christian nodded, and Dante reached forward. He placed one hand on Marcus’s shoulder and Flashed them into the catacombs of his Fortress.

Solid granite surrounded them. Marcus moaned in pain. Dante swore softly. “You have this one chance, Fallen.” He leaned down to whisper into Marcus’ ear. “Fight for what you want, be what you were meant to be. Light or Dark, the choice is yours.”

With that, Dante slammed out of the cell. He would put his sons on a constant watch, but the moment Marcus showed signs of giving into the darkness, Dante would destroy him regardless of how Celeste felt about him.

****

Marcus shielded his eyes from the bright light that shown down on him.

“When did a little light hurt you?” Celeste laughed from beside him.

Marcus turned to her, trying to gather her into his arms, but she moved too quickly for him.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Fallen.” Her laughter brushed against his bruised and broken skin like a salve.

He reached for her again, pain lancing through his body. She danced just out of his reach. “Hold still,” he begged.

Her laughter only increased, turning into something horrible; screeching that drove him to his knees, he covered his ears and closed his eyes, begging her to stop.

Silence encompassed him, and he opened his eyes, but a blackness so thick he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face, surrounded him.

“Celeste?” he bellowed the words like knifes in his brain.

“She is gone,” the darkness screeched. “Lost to you forever.”

Marcus bellowed in rage. She couldn’t be gone. He had killed Calliope for her, ingested pure evil to save her. What wouldn’t he do to spend one more minute in her arms?

He railed against the darkness against the very idea that Celeste was no longer with him. The reality of it drove him to his knees.

“I need her,” he cried. She was his light, his world. But the darkness laughed back at him. He struck out at it with his bare hands, daring it to contradict him. Celeste was out there, and the blackness was hiding her from him.

****

“Maybe we should bring her down here,” Garrett offered, peeking through the bars of the door.

For two days Marcus had raged with fever and pain as his body morphed into what it was now. Sleek muscles, toned and taut prepared for a fight. Black silk wings fluttered and whipped against the confines of the cell.

Now he raged against the darkness, the blackness that would eat his soul and demand that he consume everything in his wake. It had been several millennia since any plane of existence had housed a Dark Angel and Victor wondered if they were going to be able to contain him.

They had tried to tie him down, but he broke through all restraints. And every time one of the Reapers entered his cell he had to be carried out.

At the moment he was screaming for Celeste as if his very life depended on it. Victor was at a loss as to what to do. There was no way he was about to bring Celeste down here to witness the love of her life lose the battle between good and evil. Nor was he willing to give up on Marcus. His sister loved him. It was something Victor just didn’t understand.

“She is safe, Marcus,” he reassured.

Wings contracted and folded around Marcus. “Then bring her to me.” His voice was graveled and deep.

“When you are more under control,” Victor promised.

Without notice, Marcus slammed himself against the solid door, his face glowing in the darkness. “Bring her to me now.”

“So not going to happen,” Victor replied.

Marcus fell to his knees, his head falling back, he bellowed to bring down the very walls that surrounded him.

Victor didn’t know what he was supposed to do, and it was a new and confusing situation for him. He couldn’t bring Celeste down here. After three days she had regained consciousness and was healing. Dante was about at his limit, he wanted Marcus dead.

“I’m going in.”

Garrett shook his head. “It’s up to you, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Victor pushed past Garrett and swung the solid rock door open he stepped in.

Marcus immediately stopped raging. The silence after was so profound it made the hair on Victor’s arm stand on end.

Slowly Marcus’s head swiveled so that black on green eyes stared at him over one shoulder. “Tell me she is alive. Tell me she is going to be okay?”

Victor crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Marcus. “Why did you do it? Why did you sacrifice everything you have and are for a female?”

“She is not just any female,” Marcus snarled. Then growled something that sounded awfully like ‘Mine.”

****

His moment of clarity was waning as the inky black voice in the back of his mind screamed for release. “She is dead, they are not telling you so that they can use you like they used me, and then threw me away.” The dark voice in his head voiced his worst fear.

“Tell me she lives,” Marcus demanded.

“She lives,” Victor said.

“Lies, all lies.” The blackness crooned now sympathetically.

Marcus pushed at the darkness wanting to believe Victor, wanting to believe Celeste was still alive. But he had seen her injuries, and he couldn’t imagine even an immortal living through something like that.

“Bring her to me then.”

“I can’t do that, Marcus.”

Marcus lurched to his feet, unused to this new body he staggered, but was still faster than Victor had him pressed against the wall one winged talon buried in the Reapers shoulder.

“I will not be used by you.” Marcus voiced his worries.

He could see the pain in Victor’s eyes but he didn’t flinch. “We don’t want to use you Marcus, we want to ensure that you will not hurt her.”

Dark rage consumed him. “Never” he growled unable to speak a full sentence. “Hurt her.” The darkness so powerful it drove him back to his knees.

He looked up into Victor’s face. “Hurts, the darkness,” he stammered. “So much pain.”

Victor knelt so that he was eye to eye with Marcus. “I believe you love her, but you must fight against the darkness in order to keep her.” Then he stood and walked out, leaving Marcus to fight this internal battle alone.

****

Celeste sat up straight in bed, light-headedness swamping her. She threw her covers back and stumbled from the bed, falling flat on her face as she did so.

“Bloody hell,” Dante growled, Celeste looked up at her father. He bent down and picked her up. She might have imagined it, but she thought he held her close for just a moment extra before placing her back into the bed.

“That’s one way to wake up,” he said, gently brushing a lock of her red hair behind her ear.

“Where is he?” her voice was so scratchy it hurt to speak and started her coughing.

Dante handed her an old earth worn cup. She sipped the cool water. It soothed her sore throat, and left her able to speak again. “What did you do to him?”

“I?” Dante asked with such sarcasm it was biting. “I did nothing to him.”

Celeste couldn’t control the tears that rushed to her eyes. “What happened to him?”

Dante sighed. “There hasn’t been a Dark Angel in several millennia. They were destroyed for a reason, Celeste.”

She allowed the tears to fall. “He was a good man.”

Dante did something he had never done before; he climbed on the bed and gathered his daughter into his arms. “Celeste, a Dark Angel would be hunted down and killed by the Tribunal. They would never allow a being such as that to survive.”

“Sounds familiar,” she said around her tears.

Dante sighed again, and lifted her chin with his index finger. “Yes, it does, and because of that I spared him. He is in the cells in the catacombs. He is fighting the darkness and light within him.”

Celeste cried harder. “But he is alive?”

“Yes, but if the darkness wins, he won’t be for long. I will destroy him myself Celeste. You understand that don’t you?” She nodded turning her face into her father’s shoulder. “Rest, he is going nowhere at the moment. He is consumed with madness from the change.”

Celeste sucked in a breath. “Is he in a great deal of pain?”

She knew her father wouldn’t lie to her, and he nodded. “He is fighting against being consumed by darkness.”

“I need to go to him.” She pulled herself away from her father. And slowly moved to her feet. “How long have I been out?”

“Several days, get something to eat, and then Victor and I will take you down.” He nodded obviously knowing he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of going to him.

She conceded knowing when she could win, and when she couldn’t. Celeste went and got into the shower, and when she was done she came out to find her room abuzz with women, pulling clothes out and food was waiting for her.

She ate and allowed the servants to braid her long hair. By the time she was done, she was so worried she rushed through everything and grabbed her cloak as she threw her door open. And then looked down at the cloak she had worn for five hundred years and threw it on the floor and stepped through the door.

Victor and her father waited for her. When Victor saw what she did he smiled. “About damn time.”

Celeste just looked at him for a moment. “I thought I had to hide from who I was,” she said to her brother and father.