Born of Nether- Everwitch Page 8

  That’s when a group of us became Rogue Angels. Our goal is to keep magic in the world, against the work of our brother and sister Angels, those called Endo-Angels. That’s why Enya was stealing the grimoire from Hell.”

  “So, Endo-Angels are not your friends?”

  “They are former comrades and soldiers, but our paths are different now. They will destroy any Rogue Angels caught. Their goal is to follow orders and allow the magic to be removed from the world.” He shook his end. “Their mission is destructive. When the magic is gone, we will all die, the Angels that have protected this world from the beginning. But if the demons find a way to preserve their lives in spite of the magic drain, the world will be in peril. Angels will be gone, and unable to aid humanity. Some of my kind has already fallen victim to the slow painful death of the magical drain.”

  “What about EverWitches?” she asked, trying to process everything.

  “Your kind will survive, if the demons survive. If not, you will be destroyed as well.”

  Brielle sat, trying to decide if it was worse to die forever when magic ran out, or to survive with the demons and knowing that Isarin was gone from the world.

  She stood, with no clue what she had decided was worse. “Two Endo-Angels kidnapped my best friend tonight. That’s why I called you for help.”

  He went still. When he spoke, his voice was very serious. “Then she is in danger. It is next to impossible to rescue anyone from an Angel prison.” Then, he apparently caught the look on her face and shrugged, the human gesture seemed odd on him. “But, we’ll definitely attempt to rescue her.”

  By now, they both sat facing each other on the bed, Brielle cross-legged and Isarin on the edge. Their former intimacy still hung between them, a pleasant memory nudged to the side of more pressing issues.

  She felt better, a lot stronger. The slow seep of his power into her weakened core bolstered her by the second. Brielle felt almost restored, near as strong as she’d felt earlier that evening.

  “We need to leave now,” she said suddenly. “There’s not much time.”

  The Angel, warrior that he was, didn’t question or waste time. In a move too fast for her to see, he was on his feet. “No, there’s not,” he agreed. “I can take you to Heaven, and we will search for your friend. I know where she will be held, and it will take some time to slip in undetected. It would be best if we leave now, provided that your strength has returned.”

  She wasn’t at hundred percent strength, but she didn’t give a damn. The time for action was now. Her legs protested as she unfolded them and joined Isarin. Touching him gently on the arm, she shook her head. “Not yet. We have something else to do first.”

  Strong brows raised. “What’s that?”

  “I’m going with you into Hell, to finish Enya’s mission, and we’re going right now.”

  His gaze level, Isarin watched her. She returned his gaze, and topped it with a gentle smile. “I’m sure my friend can survive a night in Heaven, of all places. Since I have to hand over the grimoire in a few hours, we need to go now if we’re going to get the key and open that door. It’s important.”

  When the protests that she anticipated didn’t come, she gave him another smile. And was thrown off-guard as she found herself suddenly in his arms. The hug sent a wave of warmth throughout her body, as well as butterflies skittering through her stomach. Tingles of attraction grazed the edges of her skin. It wasn’t a conscious thought as she raised her head and pressed her lips to his.

  His arms only tightened around her. The kiss deepened, tongues grazing one another. Isarin made a sound low in his throat, which she took as contentment. She agreed.

  He broke the kiss. Huskily, he murmured, “It is time to leave.”

  Brielle only nodded, not trusting her voice at this time. Why was it that even in the face of her nephew’s medical emergency and her friend’s kidnapping, that her mind kept running back to Isarin? The mysterious Angel that she had only met one day prior, was always at the forefront of her mind, at any given time.

  Only because he hadn’t released her as yet, was why she still hung in his arms, eyes locked.

  “I-….shouldn’t do this. It’s not right,” he said, his eyes filled with many emotions that she didn’t understand.

  “Why not? Aren’t Angels allowed to have relationships?” If they weren’t, then that would be another huge tragedy in all of this. Brielle was already falling for him.

  Isarin started to say something, then stopped. His eyes still betrayed the warring thoughts behind them, but he simply gave a small smile. “It’s complicated,” he said. “Conversation for another time.”

  Then his arms were no longer around her, and it was only then that Brielle remembered what it was like to be alone. She sighed.

  “Fine. Let’s do this.”

  “First, we have to go find the grimoire,” he pointed out.

  ‘Ugh.’ How had she forgotten that she’d omitted that one tiny fact this entire time? “Um, Isarin? There’s something else that might help.”

  One brow raised, and his face changed just slightly, as if he knew she was about to drop a bombshell. “What’s that?”

  “I’ve had the grimoire the entire time.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “You know, if you’re pissed at me, you can just say so. You don’t always have to be so polite,” Brielle commented from the comfort of her plush, black, leather seat.

  “I’m not pissed.” Isarin barely glanced over at her, eyes focused on the road ahead of them.

  Turning her gaze to stare at the buildings whizzing past, she rolled her eyes. Even Angels couldn’t lie that good. They were currently speeding insanely fast, hoping to find one of Isarin’s mysterious contacts who could retrieve the grimoire. Of course, once again, they were in a stolen car, a top of the line Mercedes Benz. For an Angel, Isarin was certainly proprietal with other’s belongings. Brielle hadn’t even bothered to ask him what the reasoning behind this latest grand larceny was.

  She was more concerned about whether Isarin was telling the truth on whether he was upset with her or not, for hiding the grimoire from him for so long. He said he wasn’t, but there was a suspicious tick that had settled at his jar upon hearing the news.

  ‘Mortimchka, is it wrong of me to pry right now?’ she mind-called.

  The demon’s slithering response came almost immediately. ‘No.’

  ‘Yes!’ came Enya’s mental shout.

  Her lips curved as she realized that she literally had a good angel and bad ‘angel’, one on each shoulder. ‘Prying it is then,’ she thought, ignoring Enya’s wave of irritation.

  ‘Angels’ thoughts are their own personal property-,’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ she thought. No time for that. Because she was half demon now, and because she’d already had Mortimchka pull her own thoughts without asking. Like she was about to pull Isarin’s. She laid her fingers gently against the Angel’s forearm, smiling disarmingly when he glanced at her, and whispered the demonic words under her breath. ‘Asmordin siana pou.’

  The sudden mask of annoyance hit her immediately, before she even realized that she was in Isarin’s head.

  ‘-do with her. She doesn’t follow any rules whatsoever, and for no reason, she delayed the entire operation. The grimoire was always in her possession! Unbelievable….and yet still, I can’t bring myself to-,’

  Suddenly, a mental wall slammed against Brielle’s mind, cutting her off from the flow of thoughts. A gasp slipped her lips as she sat back in her seat, stunned by the impact of being kicked out of his mind. She studied him, trying to see him he had noticed that she was in his head, but Isarin still faced forward, eyes on the road. He gave no indication that he’d noticed anything.

  But still, for some reason, he had put up mental blocks, cutting her off from his thoughts.

  Either Isarin had realized what she was doing, which was probably the case, or Enya had tipped him off.

  Giving up for the moment, Brielle focuse
d on something else. They had finally slowed down and turned onto a street in a quiet shopping district. It wasn’t surprising that there weren’t too many people on the street, given the fact that it was the early hours of the morning. Few people were walking along the rows of stores, heads down, chatting softly. Ahead, a lone guy lounged carelessly against a lightpost, one foot up as he smoked a cigarette.

  Automatically, Brielle locked her door. Though this neighborhood was much nicer than the previous one, she wasn’t taking any chances. Just from the alert way he stared into the cars as each passed by, the guy was clearly either a drug dealer or a male escort. Whichever it was, she wasn’t interested in having him jump into their car.

  “So this guy that we’re looking for, he’s going to be around here?” Doubtful, she couldn’t help wondering if they were going to find the person in one of the late-night cafes.

  Isarin rolled the car to a stop next to the lightpost. “He’s here.”

  The guy smoking the cigarette raised his brows. “Ahhh, you gotta shittin’ me. The dark Angel himself, right? Looking for me? Ah shit!” Even with his flip comments, he didn’t seem very bothered as he took a few more drags on his cigarette.

  ‘Who is this?’ Brielle studied the guy. With her best guess, he looked Asian-ish, maybe Cambodian, with his razor-straight black hair and urban swag.

  “Get in,” Isarin told him, “we don’t have much time.”

  The guy dropped his cigarette. “Yo, you know how much my time costs, dark Angel.”

  Brielle nodded to herself; she had been right: male escort.

  Isarin nodded quickly. “You’re covered.”

  With that, the young man slid into the backseat of the Benz and Isarin pulled away from the curb quickly. “Davuth, this is Brielle. Brielle, this is Davuth.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Brielle said, turning to greet him.

  Davuth shook the hand she offered and then smiled. “Damn, you’re Brielle Acosta. Girl, why you slumming with this dude? The tabloids are probably just waiting to pounce all over this.”

  Already, she liked him and said so. She couldn’t help but laugh at Isarin’s perplexed expression. She turned back to Davuth. “So, are you an Angel too?” No secret; they were picking him up to help get the grimoire out of her body, so clearly he was some type of magical person.

  “Never that.” Davuth burst out laughing. “Nah.”

  “He’s an imp,” Isarin supplied.

  A frown crossed Brielle’s face. “A imp?”

  “Like demons, but not. Mischievous, but not threatening. Good for spying and gathering rare information.”

  Davuth sighed. “You forgot fun-loving and free-spirited in that one-sided description of imps. Plus, Brielle, since he’s choosing to leave it out, I’m only half-imp. My other half is mage.”

  Now that term she knew, from when her ex-boyfriend had been obsessed with reading paranormal novels. A mage was a powerful sorcerer, that had more power in one finger than a lot of creatures combined. Which meant that Davuth was more powerful than he looked. Judging from the small smile playing at Isarin’s lips, he had purposely forgotten to mention it.

  “If you’re a mage,” she asked, “why are you working on the streets?” She didn’t want to be rude, but Davuth seemed to be an easy person to talk and she was curious. Clearly, he had more powers than he appeared to, and as a mage, he could have anything he wanted.

  “To satisfy my impish need for wild fun and human attention, as well as my drive for chaos. Though sometimes it seems like this guy craves more chaos than I do,” the imp/mage motioned to Isarin in the front seat.

  “Davuth’s a close friend of mine,” was all the Angel said, before pulling a handful of money from his pocket and tossing it into the back seat.

  Watching as the imp/mage caught it all, the bills floating easily into his hands rather than him reaching for any of it, Brielle waited. As all of the money reached his palm, it simply disappeared.

  Then a serious expression crossed Davuth’s face. “A thousand? This sounds serious. Alright, one hundred for my street time, two-fifty for my company, two-fifty for me to clear Brielle of the poison that’s in her body. You have four hundred dollars left with me to spend. That’s a lot, dark Angel. Now, what is it that you need me to do?”

  Before Brielle could gasp at the mention of ‘poison in her body, Davuth snapped his fingers. Immediately the plush interior of the car was gone, and instead, they found themselves sitting in a cozy room with a fireplace.

  “Welcome to my home,” Davuth said. And with another snap of his fingers, Brielle’s world went black.

  ****

  When she awakened, she found herself lying on a sofa in the room, and saw Isarin and Davuth standing at a table, backs to her. They were studying something in front of them, and talking in hushed tones.

  Surprisingly, for someone who had just been knocked out, Brielle felt great. In fact, she felt powerful. The surge of power that she had first experienced when Enya and Mortimchka had merged with her was back, and was flowing wildly through her.

  She could feel the EverWitch energy within her rise, and snake its way up her body, pushing itself up and out, slithering over her skin, checking for injuries and breaks in itself. But there were none. She was whole again.

  Whatever Davuth had done, had fixed her.

  On her feet in a flash, she joined the men at the table. Her eyes widened as she saw what they were looking at. Before them on the table, was the stolen grimoire. The book lay wrapped in a layer of plastic so thick that she could barely see the color of the cover. She had almost forgotten it looked like, since it had been inside of her body for so long.

  “You took it out,” she stated, but neither guy answered. They weren’t actually looking at the grimoire, but instead a piece of tissue paper which Isarin held in his fingers. Inside the tissue, lay a brass-colored key.

  “….and apparently created the skeleton key while I was out. How long was I actually unconscious?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Ten minutes,” Davuth responded, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. At her skeptical look, he added, “I’m really good at what I do.”

  “What did you do exactly? Before in the car, you mentioned that I was being poisoned, and now I feel great. Was there poison in my system?”

  The imp/mage nodded. “A whole bunch. It was because of the grimoire in your body. It’s not your fault because you didn’t know this, but grimoires are too dangerous to even touch. They’re crammed so full with magic, that most of them leak magic like crazy. Not good magic either, but dark demon magic. That constant leak of demon magic into your body was quickly poisoning you and could have killed you at any moment.”

  There was an edge to the Angel’s tone when he finally spoke. “Plus, we’re in a rush and we didn’t have any time to delay in taking out the grimoire. Davuth just explained that it was a matter of life and death in your case. He rendered you unconscious and drew the book out of you. Then we made the key.” Isarin hadn’t raised his head as yet and his tone didn’t seem open to a lot of questions, but still, Brielle didn’t give a shit.

  Just Isarin’s demeanor alone was pissing her off. It was as if he was irritated with her but was too uptight to say. Well, she wasn’t afraid to bring up what was bothering her.

  “So, that’s just the way it’s done? You don’t at least tell me what’s about to happen? Damn, thanks for treating me like the average human. When you get a chance, Isarin, just remember that I’m also a supernatural person now too.” With that, she lifted the grimoire from the table and cradled it in her arms. Clearly, the plastic wrapping was intended to keep it from poisoning via touch going forward, and it was time for them to go. She couldn’t forget her original goal of saving her nephew’s life. Now that she actually had the grimoire in hand, she should be happy because it meant that she didn’t actually have to turn over her body to Katse in order to give him the grimoire. Plus, Isarin had his damned key, so maybe she should just tell him
to continue his mission to Hell alone. Did he really need her anymore?

  Davuth’s eyes widened and he glanced at his friend. Many emotions flickered across Isarin’s face as he stared at her silently.

  “It’s-,”

  She cut him off. “Yeah, I know. You can’t, and plus we need to go ASAP.” Turning to Davuth, she asked, “Do you have a backpack that I can fit this book into?” Before she finished the sentence, there was a large, sturdy pack on the table. “Thanks.” The imp/mage was right; he was really good at what he did.

  A loud sigh slid through the room. Isarin seemed to have made up his mind about something. Glancing at his friend, he said, “Can you give us a few minutes?”

  “Nah, I’ll do you one better.” Making a strange symbol with his thumb and two fingers, he kissed one finger and flicked his hand open. “I gotta get back to my post anyway. Y’all stay here and work out whatever you’ve got going on. Time is halted within this room, you can stay as long as like and it will be the same time when you step outside into the real world, fifteen minutes to 7am. But the instant that you leave this room, through this door,” he walked over to the door in question, “the clock starts again for you. Got it?”