Dark Angel Page 7

  Katia sat stunned. Even Sergei wasn’t who he appeared to be. Her world was spinning out of control. Was there anything about her life that could be taken on face value? Was Sergei really interested in her? Or had his persistence in having a relationship with her been only his desire to figure out what she was? They had been friends for years and yet he had possibly hidden vital personal information from her. Anger boiled up in her stomach. The idea that a virtual stranger was being more honest with her than a trusted friend made her physically ill.

  Katia was clenching and unclenching her fists. Seeing the look of anger and betrayal on her face, Luc decided it was best to let her in on the plan the group had come up with while she had been sleeping. “Listen, you’ll get a chance to confront him about this soon. Amir’s going to take us to Sergei. We’ll be needing his help to figure this situation out. I can’t keep you here or Satan will find you. We can’t get help from the demons for the same reason. We’re going back topside to get help from the light.”

  “Topside? Right, you said something about hell before. So, that’s where we are? Not what I expected.” She said looking around Luc’s bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, but looked entirely normal.

  “Outer-Sheol. We’re technically in what humans would call hell or limbo, but it’s just a city like any other.” Rising from the bed, Luc walked over the widow and drew the blinds, revealing a view of the city. Katia took in the high-rise buildings, gas-lit streets, and falling twilight. A few demons were out walking down the portion of the street she could see clearly through the window. The scene appeared exactly like any she would see looking out the window of her apartment in the mid-evening. Standing, Katia moved to Luc’s side at the window.

  “When do we head out?” She said tilting her head up to look Luc in the eye.

  Taking out his Blackberry, Luc fired off a quick text message. “As soon as Amir’s free.”

  Chapter Ten

  Katia

  Placing her hand lightly on Amir’s shoulder, Katia stepped out of the swirling grey mists of the spirit world. Luc stepped out on Amir’s other side. As the trio hit the pavement in the alley behind Sergei and Katia’s condo building, Katia let out the breath she had held. That had been the most amazing, confusing, and strange experience of her life. Though it had been a short trip through the ghostly fog that had twisted around them, Katia had been tempted on more than one occasion to reach for Luc’s hand. She hadn’t been afraid, but the strangeness of it all had her wanting the comfort of contact, something real and tangible in that world of smoke and fog. The solidity of the real world was like a slap in the face in comparison. Removing her hand from Amir’s shoulder, Katia blinked at the harshness of the smells, colours, and textures of the human world. Judging by the light on the horizon, Katia figured it was almost dawn. She had been away from the city for about four hours, but it seemed like a lifetime had passed since her abduction from the café.

  Standing a few feet away, below the security light at the backdoor of the building, were Sam and B. Noticing the arrival of their small group through the mystical doorway, B flicked the cigarette he’d been smoking onto the pavement, crushing it with his boot. “Nice of you guys to finally show.”

  Luc saluted his two friends. “Been waiting long? Never know how long those trips will take.”

  Sam smiled and shook his head. “Nah, fifteen minutes or so. B’s just being a dick, as usual.”

  “Can’t let y’all down,” B said flippantly.

  Rolling his eyes, Luc motioned Katia and Amir forward. “Smartass. Ready to head up for a cozy little chat with our witchy friend?”

  The five of them headed through the back door of the building, letting it slam shut behind them. Nobody noticed the set of glowing red eyes watching from the shadows down the alley.

  In the hallway in front of Sergei’s door, Luc reached out to knock, but Katia stayed his hand. Reaching down, she pulled the spare key out from under the Welcome mat placed invitingly in front of Sergei’s door. Inserting the key and turning it quietly, Katia turned the knob and opened the door. After hiding information and lying to her, Katia wanted the element of surprise for this meeting, fully planning to rip Sergei a new one as soon as they were face to face. As the door opened, thumps and bumps could be heard coming from the living room. The five of them rushed forward in Katia’s wake, emerging into a living room littered with books all over the floor surrounding a pentagram drawn in chalk on the hardwood floor, candles lit at each point of the star. Sergei looked up from the book he had frantically been flipping through noticing his visitors.

  “Katia, what the fuck?!” Sergei dropped the book and rushed forward, grabbing her up in a bone-crushing hug. “Where have you been? I’ve been frantic!” Noticing Luc, Sergei released Katia and charged forward, throwing a punch that Luc easily dodged and was grabbed and held back by Sam and B. “You! What the fuck are you doing here?” Sergei screamed at Luc.

  Stepping between the restrained Sergei and Luc, Katia motioned for peace. “Calm down, Sergei. I’m fine. You, on the other hand, have some explaining to do.”

  As Sergei stopped struggling against his captors, Katia could see the realization come over his face at the state of his living room — the pentagram on the floor, the candles. Sergei sighed and visibly sagged. Realizing that Sergei wasn’t on the offensive anymore, Sam and B released their hold on him. Rubbing his hands over his face in exhaustion, Sergei moved over to the couch and dropped down as all the fight left him. Elbows resting on his knees, he dropped his head into his hands. Some of Katia’s anger slipped away; he looked so defeated, it made her heart ache for him.

  Looking pointedly at Luc, Sergei shook his head and sighed again. “I knew there was something about you in the café.” Turning back to Katia he continued. “I put a protection spell on you years ago. I wanted to make sure nothing would hurt you. Spells leave a connection, like a thread between us. I could feel it vibrating tonight at the café. I knew something was coming — that’s why I wanted us to leave.”

  Nodding, Katia made her way over to the couch and sat down beside him. “So you’ve been trying to protect me. Thank you for that. But, did you know there was something different about me?”

  Taking a big breath and expelling it slowly, Sergei nodded. “You give off energy, like electricity. It’s actually stronger now than it was earlier. Then there’s the fact that you don’t age, Katia. I’m almost a decade younger than you, but we look exactly the same age.”

  “What right did you have not to tell me?” Katia asked, twisting her hands in her lap.

  Sergei slumped down further in his seat. “I knew you already felt different enough, I didn’t want to make it worse. I’ve been trying to put the pieces of what you are together, so when I told you, I’d have all the information. My family has been dealing in the supernatural for centuries. I’ve been going through all the grimoires at my disposal, talking to my contacts. I’m so sorry, Katia. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

  Nodding, Katia passed her eyes around the room, stopping on the pentagram drawn on the floor. Her purse and keys rested in the middle of the diagram. Frowning, she motioned towards them and raised her eyebrows at Sergei in question.

  “I was doing a locator spell to try and find you.” He said. “Something was blocking me. I couldn’t get a read on you.”

  “That’s because she was in Outer-Sheol.” Luc said, stepping forward. “Your type of magic is only useful in the human realm.”

  Sergei sat bolt upright. “You took her to hell? Why the fuck did you do that?”

  “Long story,” Luc said calmly. “Look, we came here because we need your help.”

  “You need my help with what?”

  “We’re trying to get Katia out of a nasty situation. To do that, we need information we can’t get from our side of the playing field. Too much chance for discovery.”

  “Let me get this straight. You need me to summon help from the light side to help a bunch of demons save m
y friend,” Sergei said doubtfully.

  Katia shook her head. “Not demons, Sergei, angels. Well, fallen angels anyway.”

  Looking at his visitors incredulously, Sergei finally understood what they were asking of him. “You want me to summon angels.”

  Nodding tiredly, Sergei motioned towards the books strewn about the floor and furniture of his living room. “If you want me to do this, you’ll need to give me a hand finding the Grand Grimoire. Look for the title Le Dragon Rouge. Angels are not fans of being summoned, so you’d all better have my back when they get here.”

  The group got into action, everyone crouching down to rifle through the disorder Sergei had left in his wake in his bid to locate Katia. Kneeling down on the floor, Katia drew a stack of books towards herself. The bindings were all leather, well-worn, and looked as though they were centuries old. It was clear that Sergei’s family was indeed an old family within this world. Lifting the books one by one, Katia opened each to the main title page. Most were hand inscribed, with detailed artwork she had only ever heard spoken about from the rare book dealers who frequented her concerts and typically requested an audience with the performers after the curtains closed. These collected works must be worth a fortune to any bookseller. Some of the titles were terrifying — others mystifying. She searched for the one book that would hopefully summon the help they so desperately needed — Malleus Maleficarum, Compendium Maleficarum, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis, Dictionnaire Infernal, and finally Le Dragon Rouge. This grimoire was evidently much older than the rest, the leather heavily cracking, the cover having been repaired multiple times over the centuries. Katia judged it to be at least five- or six-hundred pages of carefully hand-scribed incantations that appeared to be written in an early French derivative. As she flipped carefully through some of the pages, detailed diagrams and sketches depicted the casting of the spells contained within along with a variety of symbols and what appeared to be the instruments required. That this belonged to Sergei, the man she thought she knew best in her life, drove home the fact that she wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

  Dragging herself back up onto the couch, Katia dropped the book into Sergei’s lap. “Found it.”

  Nodding, Sergei opened the enormous volume to the table of contents, sliding his finger down the entries, easily reading the obscure language as though he were reading a pulp fiction novel he’d just picked up from the drug store. Shaking her head, Katia wondered if anything in her life would ever be normal again. Snatching a pen and paper off the side table to his left, Sergei began to make notations, listing all of the items he required to perform the rituals necessary to call upon the angels. The group watched him in silence for several minutes. Suddenly, a cell phone alarm began to go off, jerking everyone out of their heads. Everyone frantically reached into pockets, pulling out a small army of Blackberries.

  “Sorry, that’s me.” Amir said, unlocking his phone and turning off the screeching alarm.

  Shaking his head with a disgusted look on his face, B turned towards Amir. “What the hell man? Who sets their alarm for six o’clock in the morning? That’s an unholy time to be getting up.”

  Rolling his eyes at B, Amir stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket. “Listen, bud, some of us have jobs to get to in the morning.”

  “Highly overrated,” B said, smiling at Amir.

  “Lazy jackass,” Amir shot back at him with a smile. No matter how flippant or crass B seemed to get, nobody could find it within themselves not to like him.

  Clearing his throat loudly to cut through the conversation, Sergei held up his hastily scrawled list to the group. “I need a few things if I’m going to do this. Hopefully between the four of you, we’ll be covered; if not, this won’t work.”

  “The sooner we get this taken care of the better, so shoot. What do you need from us?” Luc said, urgency evident in his voice.

  Looking over his list again quickly, Sergei nodded and looked back up at Luc, but pointed at Amir. “You’re fallen angels. But he’s not, am I right?”

  Nodding, Luc replied, “Yes, he’s a demon.”

  “All right then. Would he be willing to donate some blood for the ritual?” Sergei asked.

  “Oh, for Sheol’s sake!” Amir spat out in an annoyed voice. “He’s right here! Why don’t you ask him directly? Or do you have a problem with demons, witch?”

  Turning to Amir, Sergei took a deep breath. “No, I don’t have a problem with demons. I just figured you might have a problem with me. My people have quite the history of summoning and enslaving demons, too. I figured that might be an issue for you.”

  Irritation subsiding, Amir nodded slowly. “Makes sense, but it’s really the farthest thing from anyone’s mind right now, so let’s get on with it. Yes, I’ll give you some blood.”

  Turning to his side, Luc gave Amir a nod of appreciation. “Thanks, man.”

  Looking at Luc, Amir could see the relief in his eyes. In a hushed voice, he replied, “This is obviously important to you and you’ve been a good friend. Whether this is about the girl or something else, I’ll help however I can.”

  “Thank you.” Came Katia’s quiet voice from across the room. “You all have no real reason to help me, but thank you for this.”

  The four men across the room fidgeted uncomfortably at Katia’s thanks, as though it was something they were no longer accustomed to receiving. Even Sergei looked slightly uncomfortable, as though his omission of truth overruled his right to receive gratitude for his current actions. Clearing his throat again, Sergei broke the tension by explaining his needs for the ritual. “Goetic magic is all about maintaining a balance — just like everything else, action and reaction, dark and light. Summoning spells require sacrifice and balance. The blood is the sacrifice but, to keep the balance, we need a sacrifice of both dark and light. The demon blood is the dark, so I’ll also need blood from the light…an angel, or in your cases a fallen angel will work.”

  Luc shuffled his feet uncomfortably, warring emotions flickered across his face. Every eye in the room was locked on him expectantly. Katia gazed at him with a mixture of hope and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on fluttering like a butterfly in her gut. His eyes settled on her face and he nodded slowly. “I’m in.”

  Turning towards Katia, Sergei leaned close to her and took her hand gently. “I want you to know that I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you. I care about you so much,” he said, voice cracking with emotion.

  Uncomfortable with the emotion radiating from her friend, Katia nodded and slid her hand out from his. “I care about you, too, Sergei; that hasn’t changed, but you broke my trust. Let’s just take care of this and we’ll talk about our personal stuff later, okay?”

  With sadness and regret in his eyes, Sergei nodded. “Yeah, we’ll talk about it later.”

  Getting to his feet, Sergei moved towards a large wooden cabinet against the far wall. Reaching into the collar of his shirt, he removed a chain from his neck, from which dangled a large metal key. Fitting the key into the antique lock, Sergei opened the cabinet, revealing a large assortment of stoppered glass bottles that contained a variety of powders and herbs. The two bottom shelves were virtually empty, save a few books. This was clearly where he had been storing the grimoires, Katia assumed, knowing why she’d never seen them before.

  Removing a bottle from the top shelf, along with a mortar and pestle and a silver dagger, Sergei placed the items on the coffee table and knelt down. He removed the stopper and shook some of the powder into the mortar, replaced the stopper, and set it back on the table. Taking the silver dagger in his right hand and raising his left above the bowl, Sergei closed his eyes briefly. Taking a breath and opening his eyes, he sliced into his palm, allowing the blood to flow freely, mixing with the powder.

  Luc stepped towards him holding out a linen napkin he had found sitting in a pile on the buffet against the side wall of the room. Nodding his thanks, Sergei wrapped
his hand, wiping the blood-coated blade against the material to clean it as best he could. Looking up at Luc, Sergei held out the knife. Taking it gently, Luc stared down at it for a long moment, then turned and handed it to Amir, who had moved to stand at his side. Amir stepped forward and repeated the same process as Sergei, allowing his blood to mix with the contents of the bowl. Turning towards Luc, Amir held out the dagger hilt first. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Luc reached out and grabbed it. Nodding his encouragement, Amir stepped back to join the group of waiting men. Luc knelt down in front of the table, raising his left hand above the mortar, dagger pressed against his palm. Applying a slight pressure, the tip of the blade pricked through his skin allowing a bead of blood to form. Staring at the ruby droplet, Luc was amazed as he always was that it still ran red and not an oily black. Pressing the tip of the blade back into his palm, Luc made one sure slash downwards. Squeezing his hand into a fist, Luc allowed his blood to flow freely into the bowl. With each drop that fell, the air in the room thickened. You could almost taste the magic. Setting the blade down on the table, Luc reached over and picked up another napkin, opening his palm and wrapping the deep cut that would heal in a matter of minutes. Moving around the coffee table, Luc sat down on the couch beside Katia. Reaching out, Katia took hold of Luc’s uninjured hand, giving it a light squeeze in thanks.

  Taking up the pestle, Sergei began the process of mixing the contents of the bowl. As he mixed, the pressure in the air continued to increase, and the unease of the room’s occupants became more and more palpable. Sergei dipped his finger in and out of the bloody mixture as he drew a circle around the pentagram. Looking up at the group, he explained. “The circle of blood is drawn in protection. It prevents the beings that are summoned from harming the summoner.” Turning back to the pentagram, Sergei began to chant in low tones, the language unfamiliar to Katia. Slowly he began to circle the outside of the blood circle, his chanting growing in volume with each revolution.