Dark Angel Ch. 04

Ashriel frowned. The plate of waffles and sausages looked so tempting and the taste Anniel had given him still lingered in his mouth. So delicious.

That was bad.

He looked at the plate of congealed prinut. That was by far healthier for his body...but after having had a taste of Anniel's food...

He clenched his fists, his eyes going from one plate to the other. He had to eat both. He couldn't let either go to waste. That would be sinful, but the prospect of eating two platefuls of food felt...wrong too.

Confusion and anxiety began to give him a headache.

"The food replicator recycles whatever you can't eat."

Sethaliel's voice startled him from his dilemma. Ashriel still frowned when the young weretigri sat across from him, his pale blue eyes studying Ashriel from a face that held little emotion.

Ashriel still did not know what to make of the youngest Alpha Angel.

His parents had been guardian soldiers three hundred years ago. Ashriel knew Algor Whyte wasn't really Seth's father. The mother had collected semen from past lover's; lovers she'd hand-picked for their physical attributes. Smitten with a lover named Seshmel's fragile platinum-blond looks, she conceived and gave birth to the weretigri before him now.

When she realized her son could shift into a white tiger and had telekinetic abilities, she abandoned him into Devon's care. The boy had only been eight or nine sun orbits old.

Seth's eyes dropped down to the plate Anniel had left. He licked his lips.

"I'll eat it if you don't want it."

Ashriel contemplated Seth's lean, hard-muscled body. "Do you use magic to keep yourself so fit?"

Seth stared, his face blank. "No. I like to work out with Zak. I also train rigorously five hours per day."

"I need to exercise also. I usually rise before the morning sun has begun to caress the skies. I sit upon the altar of offerings and meditate on my vocation, and pray for the strength to stay true to my responsibilities. When the morning sun begins to lighten the skies, I go to the edge of Mount Chielos and pick up a boulder. I hold it between my wings and climb the mountain side. When I reach the top, I hold the boulder in my arms and descend the mountain using my wings. Not an easy task with the strong winds coming off the seas. I do this one hundred times going up and another hundred going down."

The weretigri's mouth went slack. He blinked a few times before saying, "That's a pretty brutal workout." His eyes roved over Ashriel's bare chest and arms. "No wonder you're as big as a star freighter."

Seth's eyes went back to Anniel's plate of waffles and sausage. Ashriel looked too, and his stomach rumbled in the most embarrassing way. "Are you eating that or not?"

Ashriel really wanted to taste Anniel's food again, but letting the young weretigri have it was a good way for him to practice self-control and denial. Just because he was fallen didn't mean he needed to lose his soul completely to the pleasures of the flesh.

Ashriel opened his mouth to tell Seth he could have the food, and had to force the words out. They came out as a strangled whisper.

Seth's eyes narrowed and he eyed the prinut suspiciously. "You prefer that?"

Ashriel looked at the prinut sullenly. "It is very nutritional."

Seth cocked his head to the side. "So is this," he said gesturing to Anniel's waffles and sausages.

Ashriel raised a brow and gave him a dubious look.

Seth pulled the plate of Anniel's food closer. Ashriel almost had to sit on his hands to keep from snatching it back. The weretigri gestured to the food. "These waffles are made with many whole grains. Good for your digestive system, and the sausages are made from a blend of vegetables. She seasons the mix, and it really tastes just like meat. It's loaded with protein too."

Ashriel's mouth watered as Seth cut a piece of waffle and sausage, spearing it with a fork. He swirled it around in the syrup.

"And the sweet fluid it's drenched in."

Seth's lip kicked up in one corner. "A little indulgence. Pure maple syrup from the trees in our enviro level."

Seth pushed the forkful of food into his mouth and closed his eyes with a sigh.

The weretigri seemed to forget his presence until he finished off the entire plate of food.

Ashriel watched him pop the last forkful into his mouth in dismay. Seth rose and retrieved a glass of yellow-orange fluid from the food replicator. He downed it in three gulps, wiped his mouth, and winked at Ashriel. "I'm off to the training room now. You're welcome to come and spar with us if you'd like."

With that, he was gone in a flash of sparkling white.

The silence around Ashriel was like a vacuum.

With a soft sigh, he pulled the plate of prinut to himself and began to eat slowly...until there was nothing left.

There was nowhere to wash his dish, so he slipped it into the same slot Seth had deposited his with a shake of his head. They didn't even wash their own dishes. How lazy.

Exiting the dining hall, he walked down the corridor, the glossy black floor cool against his bare feet. Briefly, he wondered who's black pants he wore. He was naked when he was deplumed and all fallen reapers were cast out of Seraphia naked and within a silver trash cylinder.

He fingered his hair with a frown. He needed to cut it too. He felt disheveled and unkempt, barefoot and poorly dressed. The pants he wore were too loose and rode indecently low on his hips. No wonder Natanael tried to throw himself at him. Ashriel looked very much like a male whore.

"God-I've fallen so low."

He reached the elevators and paused. Turning on his heel, he walked further down the corridor. Round doors flanked either side of the pale grey corridor, but not too much farther away from the elevators, he found a pair of plain metal doors in a niche. Pushing against the doors, he was surprised to find a stairwell.

Ashriel's eyes widened when he looked first up, and then down. The stairs seemed to rise to infinity and descend into a bottomless abyss. Each landing had the number of the level and section stamped upon it.

Ashriel grinned at his discovery and began to ascend the stairs at a quick pace. Fifty floors later, he opened the doors to the level where the training room was.

He entered and was immediately drawn to the fight taking place in the center of the training hall.

Devon sparred with twenty high level demons. The sight of the creatures had Ashriel's body switching into kill mode even though he knew they were nothing more than projected holographic images.

They swarmed Devon like roaches, but he moved so fast he looked like a black and white blur.

In a few seconds, he killed all twenty demons and stood amidst a pile of about fifty more twitching, hacked up corpses.

He breathed a little heavy, holding his sword at the same angle he'd used to behead the last demon. Black hair streamed over his face, and sweat made his pale body shine. Devon lifted his gaze to look at Ashriel.

The insides of his eyes were completely black, like a reaper. It wasn't the first time Ashriel saw Devon manifest traits of a reaper, but it still stunned him. A demon reaper. Could he kill angels the same way Ashriel killed demons and devils?

Devon lowered his sword and motioned to Ashriel with his hand.

Ashriel's eyes narrowed. He advanced toward the center of the training hall, toward Devon. When he was twenty paces away, he reached back and drew his divine sword out. The sword remained at his back, invisible until summoned. His fingers wrapped around the hilt and the weight of the blade made him smile as he swung it once in an arch. Fire glowed off the blade, bright and white. Devon's blade also glowed, but the fire was blue and almost blinding.

Ashriel stopped a few paces from him and squared his shoulders, tucking his wings tightly to his back.

"I will not use my wings, to even the fight."

Devon's eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into a seductive grin—so much like Davariel's insolent grin. "Don't hold anything back, reaper."

From the sidelines, he heard shouts of anger. He looked over his shoulder and saw his precious Alpha Angels banging their fists against an invisible barrier, shouting at them. Their voices barely permeated the strange bubble that cocooned him and Devon.

Ashriel looked at Devon askance.

Devon's grin only grew. "We usually don't spar each other for real. We do it on separate training mats." He pointed behind Ashriel.

Ashriel turned to see a holographic projection of himself and Devon on the other side of the training room. With a frown he turned back to Devon.

Devon was no longer smiling. "You've always wanted to kill me. Now's your chance."

Ashriel scowled. "I don't trust you."

"I know."

"So you're going to let me kill you?" Ashriel raised a brow.

Devon grinned again. "I'm going to let you try."

Ashriel began to circle him. "Why?"

"To see if you can." Devon followed his movements with eyes that were glowing blue again.

"You think you can kill me?" Ashriel lifted his wings slightly off his back, feeling the adrenaline start to heat his flesh.

Devon frowned now. "I'm not going to kill you."

Ashriel had to laugh at that. "So I'm to try to kill you and you're going to do exactly what?"

"Convince you otherwise. Convince you you cannot beat me."

Ashriel became solemn. "The worst thing a warrior can do is be too sure of himself."

"The worst thing a person can do is doubt themselves," Devon countered.

Ashriel nodded, also seeing the wisdom behind those words, though not agreeing whole-heartedly. "If I kill you, I want your people to release the reapers."

Devon frowned. "They're here of their own accord, Ashriel."

"They're lost, hungry, and abused. They're like a lost animal that finds solace at the hands of a stranger."

"And you want the Alpha Angels to turn them back out?"

"I do not trust the intentions of the Alpha Angles with the legions of reapers taking refuge here."

"And if I win?"Devon began to circle with Ashriel, holding his sword at the ready.

Ashriel let languid power flood his body, his eyes watching any signs of so much as a twitch or blink from his opponent. "Not that you have a chance in hell of winning, but what would you have if you supposedly convince me not to send my blade through you?"

Devon grinned again. "Now who's being cocky?"

Ashriel scowled at him. Devon rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay. When I win, you promise to kill Lucien only if you feel in the bottom of your heart that he truly deserves it."

Ashriel almost faltered in his steps. "I will not go back on my vow," he snarled.

"I'm not telling you to go back on your vow. You spared my father's life because he'd changed...he'd become pure."

"I hacked his demon's wings off his back and left him to rot on Megdoluc," Ashriel spat.

"You were going to kill him first," Devon insisted. "But you didn't. I just want you to have the same consideration for Luke."

"I doubt your twin brother has any purity to redeem."

"But if he does, you won't murder him. Swear it," Devon hissed.

Ashriel snarled in rage. "I am no murderer."

"Then we have a wager."

Ashriel was about to protest his words being twisted, but Devon flew at him...flew as if he had wings to Ashriel's astonishment.

Every strike of Devon's divine sword sent jolts up Ashriel's arms and through his body. He hacked away, using speed and strength, but soon realized it was like sparing with his own shadow. His hair was annoying him to no end. It fell across his face and eyes, but Devon's jet locks were also flying everywhere. Ashriel thought he could easily reach out and trap him by his glossy locks, but it would be a fool's tact, for it would also put him within reach of the demon's blade.

He snarled a frustrated curse when he suddenly realized Devon had his eyes closed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Ashriel shouted in anger.

"Evening out the fight, Ash," Devon replied with an annoying grin.

God-in-heaven. How many times had he seen Davariel do the same thing to his opponents to goad them.

The truth was, seeing him fight with his eyes closed was very disconcerting.

No matter how hard Ashriel slashed and swiped at Devon, or how fast he tried to jab at him in hopes of drawing just a bit of blood, he couldn't get close enough to so much as nick the unholy wretch.

Devon's muscles rippled in a glorious display of masculine beauty. His frothy lashes rested against glowing pink cheeks as the blade literally sang through the air like a chorus of angels from heaven.

Ashriel didn't give up though, not until three hours had gone by and he glanced at his precious Angels sitting with bored looks on their countenances outside the bubble. Even they knew he couldn't best their commander.

Ashriel ceased all movement and Devon lowered his sword with a triumphant smile.

Ashriel stared at him through slits. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Stop the second I stopped. You lowered your sword the second I did."

Devon shrugged. "I'm a good swordsman. I knew when you were going to yield." Ashriel stiffened when he raised his sword to point at Ashriel. "Now you must keep your word, reaper. You won't kill my twin unless he deserves it. If Lucien's soul is completely corrupted I will not stand in your way when you slay him."

"Swear it to me, Devon."

Devon's eyes became brighter with moisture. "I swear it, Ashriel of Angelos."

Ashriel walked past the Alpha Angels. Anniel ignored him, making like she was picking at some invisible lint on her training uniform.

He gripped Natanael's arm and forced him out into the corridor.

"What gives, man?" Natanael said breathlessly. "You finally decide to give me a good plowing?"

Ashriel shoved him against the wall by the door when they exited and scowled into his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Was your hair not red just a few hours ago? And yellow green this morning when I awakened?"

Natanael ran his fingers through his heavy head of hair, cropped short at the sides and cut into long layers across the middle down to the back where it ended in a thick tail that reached his ass. "I change it depending on what mood I'm in."

Ashriel eyed the frothy mop of blues, purples, and black he sported now. "And what in hell's name are you feeling now to inspire that ridiculous array of colors."

Natanael pouted, his eyes welling up. "I'm still sad about my mom. I wish I could've at least said good-bye before..." He stopped talking, his grey eyes wide, and just shrugged as one tear rolled down his cheek.

Ashriel sighed and shook his head. "Silly angel," he whispered, reaching out to stroke the tear away.

Natanael took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "It's cool. I'm a big boy, you know. Nothing can be done to change the past. Soooo...why'd you hustle us out here?"

Ashriel frowned at the way he talked. He sounded just like the annoying red weredragon. "I want to gather a group of reapers to run a mission with me."

Natanael's interest sparked immediately. His wings began to twitch in excitement. "A mission? I can get a bunch of guys together for that. What's the mission? Uh, you do realize we're breaking the law if it has nothing to do with taking our clothes off and either fucking someone or getting fucked."

"No one is going to care about what we do. We're going demon hunting."

Natanael's eyes went completely black and his grin was diabolical. "Yes," he hissed. "God-yes. I haven't killed anything evil in too long. I crave it like you don't know."

"Who else can we recruit?"

"Ha! Abdiel will have my nuts in a sling if I don't include him. We can take Reiven, Amadashiel and I think Eriel will be here the night after tomorrow."

"Eriel?"

"Yeah. He accompanied Zakreel and Remuel to Vildminoria to restore their friend Drakken. He's—"

"I know who he is, and who they are." Ashriel sneered. "They're Davariel's disciples. Natanael, does it not frighten you that Davariel's son is bringing all of his father's followers together?"

Natanael regarded Ashriel with wide innocent eyes. "Er...no. Dev's cool."

Ashriel wrinkled his nose. "If you weren't a full blooded reaper, I'd say you were angel-struck by that demon."

Natanael rubbed the back of his neck looking up at Ashriel through his dark blue lashes.

Ashriel frowned. "And the next time I see you I want to see you with the color of hair God gave you."

The reapers eyes widened. "Ew. I look gross like that."

"Don't be stupid. Your hair is stark white. It looks beautiful."

"It's boring."

"It's unique."

"Like hell. Sethaliel has platinum blond hair and Devon's mate and his son—"

"Enough," Ashriel snapped. He looked at Natanael's hair again in disapproval. "Just make sure it's monochromatic...and within the realms of nature."

Natanael grinned. "Yes, sir."

Ashriel remembered his partially dismantled Silver Comet. Only three people fit inside, four if you squeezed together. "Natanael, do you still have that old starcruiser you lived in with Eriel?"

Natanael nodded. "It's down in the hangar. Devon fixed it up for me. It's better than new now."

Ashriel nodded. "Good. We're going to need it. How fast can it go?"

"As fast as you need."

Ashriel started at the Devon's deep voice behind him. He turned to narrow his eyes at the commander of the Alpha Angels. "As fast as I need?"

Devon smiled, making Ashriel clench his fists. His resemblance to his father was creepy.

"I can move that starcruiser as fast as you need to go."

"But in order to do that you need to be on it."

"Not necessarily, but in this case I will be."

"So you're inviting yourself on my mission."

Suddenly, Devon didn't look so sure of himself. His smile faded and he stared wide-eyed at Ashriel. "I've always wanted to go demon hunting."

Ashriel regarded him with narrowed eyes. Who was he kidding? "How interesting. Aren't you afraid they're going to capture you again and turn you into what you really are?"

Devon winced, but then frowned. "I've been told I'm a divine angel."

"Ah. But You've yet to recall or get in touch with your divine nature. You let yourself be ruled by your weak human nature and its desires."

"Perhaps it's necessary for me to experience what being human is. Otherwise the Divine One would not have let me remain lost here."

Ashriel frowned. Why would the Divine One leave one of his perfect children in this realm to suffer the condition of physical creation?

Anniel retired to her quarters after her training session. Devon communicated with her telepathically telling her to prepare for a trip. They were taking Natanael's starcruiser for a mission.

She rolled her eyes and tried to tamp down the shiver of apprehension that shimmied down her spine. She really didn't look forward to being enclosed in the tiny starcruiser with Ashriel. He was so frustratingly complicated. One minute she wanted to hug him, the next she wanted to whack him over the head. Oh, and every time he blushed—gawd—she could barely suppress the urge to grab his face and just kiss him hard on that sexy lush mouth of his.

Her com-unit screen was blipping, telling her that someone was trying to communicate with her.

Anniel frowned. No one knew her personal code. At least not for the past three hundred or so years.

She sat at the console, intrigued, and opened the link. Garethiel's white wings and blond-framed face filled the screen.

He was pinching the bridge of his nose, a lit cigarette between two fingers, until he realized she'd responded to his hail. He immediately smiled, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Baby, I finally get hold of you."

"What the hell do you want Garethiel?"

He pouted adorably. "Aw, come-on, beautiful. Don't be that way. It's been so long, baby," he crooned looking seductively at her.