Love Bites

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Have you noticed how many vampire love novels there are out there these days? I was just looking at the cover of Mandy Reidalch’s latest blood sucker love fest book—the vampire a steamy young man with dark hair and an open leather jacket showing his meaty chest—and I just have to say, out of all the vampires I’ve ever met—none have ever been that hot.

Mandy’s eyes were devouring that book as her mouth devoured a ranch dressing-slathered BLT after crunching on baby carrots. I tried to keep my eyes off the book cover and onto my burrito, but I just couldn’t focus. I mean what was the appeal of those books? They all ended badly.

I know. I know. The girl gets the boy in the end—or the boy gets the girl, or whatever. They never have to part for eternity. But they almost always end up with the hero or heroine turned into a vampire—a life choice I would not recommend. After all, there is no cure for vampirism.

Mandy saw me looking at her. She lifted her book up with an awkward smile, so I said, “Is it good?”

Beaming, Mandy then gushed, “Oh yes! Laura has just has a run-in with a rival band of vampires and, man…”

I didn’t want an oration. But I had asked for it. We all knew Mandy liked to talk, and she chattered on about the novel. But she glowed when she talked, and I didn’t mind that about her.

Then she set her book down. “What about you? How’s your little romance going?”

I blushed. “Oh, fine. The engagement party is this evening.”

She grinned at me.

I was engaged to marry Hanz Johaansen, the man of my dreams since… wow, practically forever. We knew each other as kids, but we didn’t start dating until college. Three years before that, I had figured I would never see Hanz again as he had found out over Christmas one year what I was and freaked. Or I had thought he had freaked. I learned later after we met again in college that he had been disturbed to learn I had fleshy bat-like wings which could sprout out from my shoulder blades from two birthmarks He had, but he had gotten over it. In fact, he was sorry he had reacted the way that he did back then. He liked me for me, after all. And I was freaky to behold.

I had orange eyes, you see. And long canines and pale-pale skin. I looked like a vampire, basically. Not that I was. I was only half vampire—my birthfather was a vampire. My birthmother was an imp. I’m a vimp, and that is a demon. Funny thing was, when Hanz found out I was a demon during college, instead of flinching, he asked about the circumstances behind it. Was I born that way? Or was it the result of a choice? You see, this mattered a great deal to Hanz who did not believe in genetic determinism.

The miracle of Hanz loving me was that he was a devout Christian. He was of the Latter-day Saint persuasion, and really had no concept of the Catholic-level of demonhood as I did. He believed there were evil spirits and good spirits and that people could choose their path—that their paths were not chosen for them by an accident of birth. I may have been born a demon, he said, but that was just a challenge and not a determination of my fate.

This was why I loved him so much.

But I had resisted his proposals for marriage for years.

He had first proposed to me while we were still in college. I had said ‘no’.

I didn’t think it was right. He was a good man, and I was demon.

He then proposed to me when I had graduated with my four year degree in computer science and engineering. I still said ‘no’. Same reason.

And he had been proposing to me every year since while he was busy with med school. I had been saying ‘no’ for so long, until one day I asked him why he had not given up and looked for a good Christian human to marry as I was just happy that he was my friend and thought of me that way. And he had replied, “Eve, I can’t imagine spending eternity with anybody else but you.”

That was the thing, though. Spending eternity. Though my mother and my older brother William, along with my best friend Jane, had long converted to Hanz’s Faith, I was afraid their Faith would reject me. I didn’t think their doctrine allowed the baptism of demons after all. Hanz had even asked his bishop about it, and the man was speechless.

Then his bishop asked to meet me.

He was even more speechless.

Finally Hanz’s bishop said he would take the question up to the ‘stake level’ and ask his local authorities about the matter. I had even met with one of them, and they stared at me as if they were not sure I was real. And they said they would have to take it to the ‘general authorities’ to get an answer.

Well, Hanz decided not to wait for their answer. He asked me to marry him for the billionth time now, saying marriage for time will have to do until we could manage marriage for eternity. And my heart melted. Hanz loved me. He really loved me.

So I said ‘yes’.

My parents were overjoyed. My friends were overjoyed. Even my friend Rick Deacon who had a secret crush on me was overjoyed. Of course, I could tell when Rick had met Hanz a while back that he respected my choice and was not going to put up a fuss about it. Rick was sensible guy and knew I never really thought of him in that way.

So, the wedding was this week.

I felt giddy inside.

But I was also worried, worried for Hanz. He was marrying a demon after all. Me. My life was not like those romance novels. I was not super sexy, but I was super dangerous with serious health issues. As a vimp, only one of me is born every three hundred years. I was part of an ancient curse. I was born for a specific purpose—designed to hunt down and kill the Holy Seven—which destiny I had rejected as soon as I found out about it. I also could not be out in sunlight without serious sunblock, and Hanz and I could never eat Italian food together. Oh, and I craved blood, even though I never indulged. I was exercising my agency to become what I chose to be, which at the present moment was a software developer and a surfer on the side.

But the main reason I worried for Hanz was that I would never be able to have children and we would not be able to grow old together. He was from a large family and from a religion that valued family, and I knew he would want to be a father. And though I went through puberty like any girl, I never had my period. Born as part vampire, I partook of their status as undead, eliminating the ability to create new life. Also, being part imp, I knew I would outlive Hanz. I would remain young for three hundred years, according to the experts, and I would watch him grow old and die without me, which I knew would break my heart.

But I loved him. So I had said ‘yes’.

When I went back to work after lunch, I tried to keep my mind on the current program I was developing. Its purpose was to create a better translation method than used by Google. Google Translate was laughable, and our company wanted to produce more competitive apps for the marketplace on the internet. I was unable to focus, though, as my mind went over the wedding details.

We had invited everybody. I had consulted with my best friend Jane, who had married my brother Will as soon as she had graduated from Stanford. Their wedding reception had been fantastic—though the wedding itself I could not go to because it was in one of their temples and only members of good standing could enter (Dad, Dawn, and Travis stayed outside with me while Mom went in)—and I wanted a reception just like Jane’s. Jane was my matron of honor and she was helping me plan. I had also consulted with Jessica Cartwright, once Mason, about her wedding as that one too had been amazing, and I had been one of her bridesmaids. My roommate Star, along with my sister Dawn and her old roommate Tabitha Raines (who had mellowed out a ton after my freshman year of college), were to be my bridesmaids. Hanz’s old mission companion from Denmark was his best man. The man was actually Danish and spoke decent English. Rick was flying in, as were most of the Seven who wanted to meet the groom and wish him the best of luck. It was going to be the best wedding ever. 

The cake was angel food.

My dress was exquisite.

The flowers… I cannot describe how wonderful the bouquets were.

And the band was Clan Celt, who agreed to play for us at a reasonable price.

It was going to be perfect.

Then the clock stuck five, and I woke from my reverie. My work day was over.

I giddily put away the files I was working on. Cleaning up my desk, I then logged off my computer and shut it down. Locking away everything in my drawers that was not nailed down to the top, I put on my shoes (which by habit I took off under the desk for comfort sake), and picked up my briefcase to go.

A crowd lined up at the elevator.

My heart was pounding.

So were the other hearts around me, though not as hard as mine. I could still hear the hearts of everyone in the room. I could also smell their blood as it pulsed just underneath their skin, but my bloodlust had long been under control. It hardly tempted me now. And the invisible imp chatter among my co-workers remained mild. One of them was tempted to drink and drive. Another was tempted to take out a cigarette in the elevator. A pair of them were tempted to have an affair. I resisted the impulse to interfere. I had long learned that the main lesson of life for me is to allow people to choose for themselves and not be such a busybody.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped on with the crowd.

Mandy remarked to Tom, “Are you going to donate blood today?”

“Why? Is the truck outside?”

She nodded, and I inwardly groaned. Our company held frequent blood drives. It was a noble cause, to be sure, but my blood was toxic and I could never donate. But the more annoying part was that people cast me judgmental stares whenever we had a blood drive, because I never walked around with a sticker on my chest saying that I had donated blood. They didn’t believe me when I said my blood was toxic. And their imps were already shouting at them to make snide remarks to me about it.

“Are going to donate, Eve?” Evan Stone asked, knowing the answer.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“She doesn’t donate,” Mandy snickered. “She withdraws.”

That was another thing I disliked about blood drives. Nobody missed that I naturally looked like a vampire. They frequently teased me about it, calling me Elvira, though some Bella Swan. It annoyed me. I was just glad they didn’t know my birthfather actually was a vampire—may he rest in peace.

The elevator-full chuckled.

“Do you want me to do a prick test to prove to you I can’t donate blood?” I finally said.

The elevator hushed a moment.

But then Mandy said, “Yes. Just to satisfy our curiosity.”

“Fine.” I agreed finally, just to get them off my back.

It was a service the blood drive also did. They always tested blood before people donated. It was a safety precaution.

We all went out together to the trucks. They were parked in the front lot where I thought I felt a heavy presence. Heading to the nearest mini blood bank on wheels with Mandy, we greeted the technician who was performing the blood collection.

Mandy said with a flirtatious smile, “My friend here is a first time blood donor. She says she can’t give blood because her blood is toxic. Can you prove to her it isn’t?”

The technician took one look at me, then stared harder. I always got this on first encounters. Though I was wearing brown contacts in my eyes to mask the natural orange, I was still extremely pale with contrasting hair. If I did not smile to reveal my sharp canines, most people just shook it off and pretended that I did not look like a vampire. But this man stared a lot. I wondered briefly if he had had any encounters with a vampires before. Blood banks were easy alternatives when vampires don’t want to make victims.

“Just do the prick test for her so I can go,” I said to him.

He nodded warily and went in for the kit.

“Your blood is not toxic,” Mandy said to me while my other coworkers lined up at other trucks. There were three servicing the company that day.

I rolled my eyes and looked back over to where I was still feeling that ominous presence. For a second, I thought I saw a biker in leather standing near one of the cars. He was familiar. But as I turned to really look at him, he seemed to slip from my sight.

The blood technician came back and requested one of my fingers. He gingerly turned over the hand I offered him, feeling how cold I was under his touch. He stared at me, then glanced at the sun as if to make sure it was there. His imps were screaming for him to jump into the van and drive off.

“I know, right?” Mandy said, snickering. “She does look it, doesn’t she?”

The phlebotomist nodded, pricking my finger.

I flinched.

The smell of my own blood oozing from that tiny hole had, what I could describe as, an acidic quality to it. It was unlike the smell of most human blood which had the sweet aroma of salt, sugar, and iron, among other things. By nature, I had a highly sensitive nose for this sort of thing. A person tended to smell a bit like the things they ate. A Coke drinker had that caffeine odor to them. Someone who ate donuts smelled sticky sweet. A healthy, earthy, granola eater had a tendency to smell a bit like nuts and seeds. But shaking off that thought, I refocused on the phlebotomist who smelled like coffee and nicotine. His heart was beating a little faster than normal as he applied my blood drop to places on the card in hand. I think he knew I was not quite human. Phlebotomists must really see a lot of this kind of thing.

I felt a sudden movement to my right.

I turned.

Walking right up to me was that biker. He had a full gnarly beard, tattoos on both biceps, sunglasses, and a sleeveless leather jacket with a fiery wheel insignia with a set of wings around it on his right pocket. He was wearing jeans and cowboy boots and was chewing on a toothpick at the side of his mouth. He looked like the kind of guy my mother would have told me to stay far away from.

“What do you want?” I asked.

Mandy looked but could not see him. Damn. This was not good.

He ginned at me. Once Mandy turned to look at the card, faster than I could follow, the biker tapped me on the shoulder. Immediately my wings popped out, and I went immaterial. It was like he had pushed a button and turned my imp self on.

“Hey!” I shouted.

He laughed, stepping back from me just out of arms reach.

Mandy turned around to say something to me, but of course she could not see me. When I was immaterial, I was also invisible. Mandy’s eyes searched around, raking over the parking lot. “Hey! Eve! Where’d ya go?”

I flew at the biker, pulling my wings out wider to swipe at him, but he seemed to move as if on lightening. Angrily, I stepped behind the truck to retract my wings and go visible again—only they didn’t. I tried harder, straining to get them back in. But I couldn’t pull them into my back. I could feel it, my wings were permanently stuck out.

Panic flooded over me. I screamed at the biker, “Who are you? What did you do to me? Put it back the way it was!”

“Nuh uh,” the biker said now from on top of the blood truck, sitting on it and peering down “You need to listen.”

“Eve?” Mandy searched around for me. I dodged when she ran toward me, making sure she did not bump into invisible me.

“Good instinct,” the biker on the truck said. “So, you know they can still feel you in that state, huh?”

I growled at him, flapping my wings and lifting off the ground. I had all my imp abilities still. I could make myself lighter than air, and my wings could still expand. They just could not pull into my back anymore. “Why did you do that? Fix it!”

But he just sat back, crossing his legs. “Nope. You need to listen.”

“If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was say ‘excuse me, can I speak with you for a minute?’!” I shouted. “You didn’t have to do that! Put my wings back the way they were! Unstick them!”

He shook his head. “Nope. I need your undivided attention, and you ain’t goin’ back to that life.”

I paled. “What? No! I don’t know who you are? But you can’t do that to people!”

“Actually I can,” he said, smirking at me. “I was commissioned to pick you up. You have been chosen for redemption, and your mortal life is over.”

I felt sick. Looking around him, I realized he had no imps so I could not tell if he was lying or not. No heartbeat either. Landing atop the truck, I glared down at him, clenching my teeth. “What do you mean by that? Who chose me for redemption? Who in the hell are you?”

“I think you mean who in Heaven am I?” He smiled.

Shaking my head, I stepped back from him. “No, no, no.  I am not dead.”

He nodded. “Course not. You are undead.”

“I am not undead!” I moaned.

Mandy was calling out my name one last time end then muttered apologetically the phlebotomist that I must have run off, too scared of blood. She then explained that I always removed myself and covered my nose whenever anyone had a papercut or scrape, which was true. She had interpreted it that I was queasy around blood. But to be honest it just made me salivate, and I did not want to be tempted by the smell of it. Near fresh blood, I was like an alcoholic smelling wine. The temptation was excruciating in those moments.

“Well, technically, not in a vampire sense, no,” the biker said to me. “But in the fact that you are no longer mortal—yes, you are undead.”

He then pointed at me with his toothpick as the phlebotomist below stared at the results of the prick test, showing Mandy that my blood was indeed toxic. The PH was off the charts. My blood also had so many antigens that it would have killed anyone who had taken transfusion from me. He then asked Mandy how long she had known me, hinting that I was not what she thought I was.

“Put me back right,” I ordered, now shaking. “Tonight was my engagement party. I am getting married this week.”

“Not anymore,” the biker replied.

I lost it. Charging at him to rip that smug look off his face, my claws extended. I slashed out.

Any mortal, vampire or demon would have been dead quicker than a heartbeat. But he was gone in a snap. Like a shot of lightning, he sprang off the truck and through the air on wings of smoke before I could even reach him. I could see their shapes as he hovered over the parking lot, though I was not sure those wings were keeping him aloft. “You are going to have to get used to it chickie. This is your new life now.” 

I charged after him, mustering up speed.

He dodged easily. It was like he was ten times faster than me—faster than any imp. I knew what he was too. A death angel—a grim reaper. I remembered now where I had seen him before. Back in my hometown of Cliffcoast, I had seen him briefly when a friend of mine—Deidre Johnson—had been dealing with the ghosts in the Bale’s house so it could get sold. It had only been a moment when I had seen him then, but I knew him.

But why had he targeted me? What did I do to deserve this? I was playing by the rules. I had not killed anyone since my freshman year of college—and he had been a serial killer who had turned himself into a demon so it was not bad thing what I had done. I had lived my life circumspectly. If anything, I deserved a break.

“Give it up, buttercup,” the biker said, chuckling. “This is your new life. And you are to report to the top of the Ordway Building tonight for further instructions.”

“What? No! You can’t do this!” I screamed at him.

But he whisked off.

I tried to make chase, but he was gone gone gone.

What could I do? I could not follow him, not unless he was intending to go to the Ordway Building.

I dropped back down to the ground and went back to the office building. I tried to pull my wings in. I could only get them imp size and no smaller, which was about as big as my hand-span. Also noticed that the imps who had been around me since as long as I could see imps were gone. I could still see all imps, and they could see me, but somehow I was no longer of interest to them.

I grabbed one to make sure.

“Leggo!” he snapped at me. “What’s the matter with you? I ain’t dead. Deal with the dead and leave me alone.”

Shaking, I let the imp go. I was right. They all could see me still, but they were treating me as if I were dead.

I pulled out my cellphone from my pocket. It got no signal. But as I held it, I realized that it too was immaterial. I felt over my purse and my wallet. They also were as invisible and immaterial as I. My fingers shaking, I dropped my wallet.

As it left my fingers, I saw it become material again. Solid.

It hit the ground.

Mandy turned at the sound of it. Her eyes set right on it. Walking over to it as I backed up, Mandy picked up my wallet and opened it. “Oh.”

She then looked around, even to the sky to see if a bird had dropped it. Mandy did not see me at all.

“Mandy,” I said, risking revealing what I was to her. I was desperate. “Mandy. I’m over here.”

But she did not respond or react. She had not heard me at all.

This was different than my imp situation. Before, whenever I spoke while invisible, it would give me away. The fact that she had not heard me shout at the biker was total proof. It was like I had become a ghost.

I looked to my cellphone again. I turned it on, put in the passcode and opened it. All the apps showed up, but it showed no connection to the internet or anything. I opened up the text feature, seeing if that would work. It opened, and I could type in it, but pressing SEND did nothing. No connection was the message.

Looking to Mandy again as she started to ask around to see if anyone knew where I went, watching her hold my wallet, an idea occurred to me. I went back to my text feature on my cellphone and typed in a message to Hanz. Walking over to the step near the blood truck, I gently set the phone down, not quite letting it go yet as I pressed SEND again.

I immediately took my hands off of it.

I watched the phone become solid. The bars on my connection shot up to full. And the text was received.

Breathing easier, I reached down to pick up my phone.

 My fingers went through it.

I tried again.

No use. I could not pick it up again. When it left me, it was no longer part of my condition. That meant my wallet was also gone for good.

“What’s this? Somebody lost a phone,” the technician picked up my cellphone. He then scrolled through the apps looking for one that showed the owner’s identity.

Mandy turned and reached out. “That’s Eve’s.”

I moaned. She had my wallet and my cell phone now.

The phlebotomist held it out to her as if it carried the black plague. He even rubbed anti-bacterial lotion all over his hands after he had touched it. Hissing to her, peeking around, he said, “You don’t know what germs could be on that.”

Great. A germophobe phlebotomist.

And Mandy had my cell phone.

What was I going to do now?

My cellphone rang.

Mandy stared at it for a minute and then pressed then swiped it down to accept. “Eve’s phone?”

I could not hear what was being said on the other side, but Mandy’s face contorted with a little surprise as she responded, “No. Actually uh, I found, or rather this guy here found her phone. I work with Eve.”

The other side responded to her.

She replied, “I don’t know. She was just here, just a second ago. I found her wallet too. What do you mean she just texted you? I mean seriously we just found her wallet and phone—and she just vanished.”

Watching Mandy listening to Hanz’s protests, as he was the one I had just texted, I felt like screaming out for him. Mandy could not hear me, but maybe he could.

“I’m here!” I shouted. “I’m right here! I’m just… stuck!”

“I don’t know,” Mandy replied to him. “Eve does not usually joke around like this.”

I yelled louder. “I am here! HANZ! PLEASE HEAR ME!”

But I detected no sign that either Mandy or Hanz had picked up even smidgeon of my voice

Shrieking now, I was sobbing. “MANDY! HANZ! I’M NOT GONE! SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED TO ME! MY WINGS ARE STUCK! I’M STUCK INVISIBLE!”

Mandy chuckled and said, “Maybe she is invisible.”

I panted, staring at her. Had she heard me?

I screamed, “MANDY! TELL HANZ I MET AN ANGEL OF DEATH!”

I saw her blinking, but then shaking off that thought. Oh, crap. She could hear me, but she was hearing me the same as she would hear her imps. Mandy was a decent person. She had bad taste in novels, but I knew she was the kind of person who ignored the mischievous shouts of her imps. She would ignore me too if it sounded crazy.

So I screamed, “MANDY! TELL HANZ SOMETHING URGENT CAME UP AND MIGHT HAVE TO MISS OUR ENGAGEMENT PARTY!”

She blinked on that thought and said, “Maybe something urgent came up and she might have to miss your engagement party.”

She could hear me. But like an imp, I had to scream to be heard. It explained a lot, actually. I always wondered why most imps screamed all the time. But it made sense also why imps who did not scream worried me. When imps did not scream, it was because they did not need to. They were being listened for in those cases. Only truly evil people did that.

What could I do? I could go find Hanz and shout at him what had happened. Or I could find someone else to help me

But who could help me?

Who would be able to see or hear me?

Nodding to myself, I made a list—people who could see ghosts and people who could see invisible beings such as half-imps like me. Immediately names and faces came to me. Rick had two friends who would be able to see me: Tom Brown, who was half imp, and Joshua Johnson. Then there was Deidre Johnson, who I was afraid I had lost contact with when we graduated high school. I had assumed she had gone on the run when she tried to leave her no-good father and he would not let her. I had told her not to trust him. But who else? These were all east coast people? Who on the west…? My mind went to Tabitha Raines. She could see only beings that were talking about her. But that was like imps. I was not sure death angels fit into that category. But she would not be in town for another week. Not until the wedding. She lived in Reno now. Who else did I know?

There was that kid, Roddy Mayhem. But he had also moved East. But what about that gang he was part of? What happened to them again? I think some of them broke out of prison. They had to be back on the street, though I think they moved locations. Some of the imps said they had moved to Miami, but I had figured they were joking. Besides, I doubted they would help me. I was screwed. I had to find someone who could see ghosts. In the meantime, screaming to be heard would have to do.

Pulling out my wings, I launched into the sky. I had a few hours left before the engagement dinner. I had to get to Hanz.

Emergency

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Hanz worked at the place I liked least. The hospital. It smelled of blood, bleach, and all sorts of things which made me feel ill. I hated hospitals. But he was a doctor in training, and it was a noble career. It was my older brother Will’s career too. I respected them for it. I just could not stand the smell of the blood—or the dead.

But I went to the hospital. I had to find Hanz.

Going through the walls, I searched for him. As a young med-student, worked in the emergency room, I knew he was busy all day, wearing himself out—without coffee to sustain him as he didn’t drink the stuff. He was an orange juice addict, though. I spotted him in the hallway discussing something with a lead doctor, holding his cell phone in one hand and looking worried. Standing next to him, though, was the gray angel I had seen in his hometown that Christmas many years ago.

“You cannot be here,” that angel said, turning to face me. He stood between me and Hanz, blocking my way.

I grabbed the angel by his… I guess it was tunic or robe, “What are you doing here? Why are you people doing this to me?”

Two more death angels showed up, one who looked like a doctor herself, though she seemed more like a doctor name Ludmila Kropotkin who enjoyed torturing people for information. The other wore brown robes making him looked like a monk. He even had a bald spot but it appeared to be just male pattern baldness than a haircut. Both of them grabbed me, prying me off of him and holding me back.

“HEY! YOU DON’T DO THAT TO PEOPLE!” I screamed.

The gray angel huffed.

But Hanz turned around, looking. “Eve?”

The gray angel shot Hanz a panicked glance then one to the other two angels. He pointed, “Take her out of here!”

“NO!” I screamed. “HANZ! I’M BEING KIDNAPPED!”

Hanz went pale, reaching out to feel me.

But I was whipped out of there faster than I could wriggle free, and we were all soon high above the hospital Hanz worked at, just below the airplanes.

“WHAT RIGHT DID YOU HAVE TO RIP ME OUT OF MY LIFE LIKE THAT?” I screamed as a seagull soared by.

The three ‘angels’ (if I could even call them that as they really did not exude the kind of light that I had seen from that true guardian angel way back when that evil spirit was banished from the Bale’s house) held me tight, one with a sword at my neck, another with a scythe. Both weapons felt substantially dangerous—like something I could not avoid ever. Most solid objects passed straight through me if I wanted. I had let bullets and knives and arrows pass though me without leaving a scratch on my body. But these, I doubted would pass through safely. They felt more real for some reason.

“You ask that question of us?” the gray angel said with dry eyes.

Snarling back, I strained against the grips of my captors. “Yes! I have lived my life circumspectly! I have done no human harm! The Holy Seven themselves—”

“Are not God,” the gray angel replied.

“Neither are you!” I bit back. I shoved one of the ‘angels’ off, elbowing ‘Ludmila’ in the gut.

Huffing impatiently at me, the gray angel replied, “But we are sent by Him.”

“What?” My stomach sank. Nausea rose in my throat.

He nodded to me. “He sent us to claim you for redemption.”

I jerked back, trying to get loose from the monk angel. “That’s what that biker said. What the hell does that mean?”

“You mean ‘what the Heaven’ does that mean?” the gray angel replied drably.

“Oh please…” The cheese level was killing me. I moaned. “Is this some kind of running gag among you death angels?”

“So you know what we are?” the Ludmila lady inquired, her gaze full of honest surprise.

I nodded. “Yeah. I knew girl who could see ghosts who mentioned you. And I’ve seen a few already.” I gestured to the gray angel. “You lied to me. You said you were a guardian.”

“I am a guardian,” he said. He then drew out a sword. I stared at it, then him. Were they going to kill me? Was this the end of my sad existence? Right as I was about to marry the man of my dreams, and I get killed by death angels because the Holy Seven wouldn’t kill me? The gray angel pointed his sword at me. “And I was set to guard the people from you.”

My jaw dropped open. “But I haven’t hurt anybody!”

He snorted. “Oh no? What about those men in the mountains who were hunting a dangerous werewolf?”

I rolled my eyes. “They attacked my family. And none of them died. Besides, what right do they have to kill somebody due to an accident of birth? Rick is not evil. He has not killed a soul!”

Snorting again, the angel replied, “Oh no? What about those people in Germany?”

I snarled. Rick had told me about the German werewolf incident. And I said to this presumptuous ‘angel’, “It was in self-defense. They had murdered his friend and tried to eat his other two friends.”

“But what about all those people you killed in the mountains near your town?” the gray angel asked.

I pushed away the scythe, huffing. “You mean all those vampires who killed and ate hikers regularly? The ones who murdered my birthfather?”

His eyes fixed determinedly on me as he nodded and said, “And that man whose heart you ripped out?”

My face flushed as I replied, “He had already been on a killing spree, and he was going to kill my friend Matthew.”

The gray angel then looked to the other two death angels who were still holding me back from going to Hanz. “See? I told you it was not a mistake. The last vimp would have killed just for the fun of it.”

The pair of death angels huffed. The one at my right, the monk, said, “Alright. So it wasn’t a mistake. Was that why you sent George?”

There was an angel named George?

But I did not have time for this. I needed to see Hanz. I knew he could hear me if I shouted loud enough. And he would listen for me. We could contact our friends and find a cure for whatever these kooks had done to me.

I kicked the monk in the crotch, shrank my wings and dropped free fall toward the ground. With no wind resistance, I plummeted fast.

“I told you she was tricky!” the gray angel shouted from up above.

But even my free fall was not faster than their lightning flight. All three death angels grabbed me and quickly flew out of the area. We went faster than I had ever gone, and I think I had passed out before we arrived atop the Ordway Building.

“Not fair!” I groaned when I woke up. It was dark now.

“Life is not fair,” said a familiar voice.

I opened my eyes and looked up. That biker was sitting atop one of those air-conditioning vent structures on the roof. Around me were several so-called angels, each one as different as the next. All of them gazed at me like one would a new recruit for some kind of nasty fraternity. Most of them appeared human in some way, but I saw what looked like elves with pointed ears and sharp angular features. There also seemed to be demons among them with horns and tails. There were a number of people in the group who looked battered, scarred, and some even bloody. And there was one vampire who gazed off in the distance as if bored.

I sat up then rose to my feet. “What is the big idea bringing me here? I had a life.”

“As did we all, my dear,” one demon said with a smirk. “But this is the path to redemption.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Did no one explain it to her?” that demon called out with a groan.

The biker lifted up his toothpick from his mouth. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t!” I snapped, rounding on him. “You stole me from my life! I was going to get married!”

“That marriage is not allowed.” The gray angel showed up.

All the other death angels hushed at his presence. Apparently he was a big wig. But didn’t care. I rounded on him. “How dare you—!”

He held up a hand.

I halted, not because I thought he could hurt me, but that I had the feeling the crowd would. I was outnumbered, and clearly outclassed—which was funny to me. All my life I had been the most dangerous thing out there. But death—even I could not outrun death.

“What is going on?” I demanded. “Why am I here? Why did you steal me from my life?”

“You were going to ruin that man’s life,” the gray angel said.

Tears came to my eyes. Really? Was that all this was about? I was not allowed to marry Hanz? Even though I had never pressured him to? Even though he was the one who had repeatedly proposed to me after all those years? Even though we were as in love as a couple could be? It was not fair. Why couldn’t I be happy? Why was that not allowed?

“Why?” I breathed out.

The gray angel said, “You are a demon. And his is a sincerely good soul.”

I closed my eyes and lowered my head. Sorrow wracked through me. It was not fair. I had done no wrong. Why was I not allowed this one happiness?

“You need to leave him for his own good,” the gray angel said.

Choking on tears, I sobbed.

“That’s not the only reason,” the biker spoke up.

The crowd shushed him.

Lifting my head, my red eyes on the biker angel who had started it all, I growled out, “Oh, there’s another reason I’m not allowed to be happy?”

That biker man leaned back. He looked to the gray angel who dryly gazed back at him. The biker said, “Who said you can’t be happy? You’re here for redemption.”

“Stop saying that!” I shouted. “What does that even mean?”

“You didn’t tell her!” The biker rose from his seat, his eyes on the gray angel. “No wonder she is losing it. You gotta tell her the whole of it.”

“I was enjoying her moment of humility,” the gray angel dryly replied.

“You mean humiliation,” the biker said. He then looked at me and said, “You’re getting a second chance. As of now, you can gain an eternal soul.”

I stared. What did he mean by that? I thought everyone had an eternal soul already. They were just in different states of being.

One of the angels nudged him. “She don’t get it. Explain, George.”

This biker was George? I rolled my eyes.

George, the bearded biker man, exhaled heavily and said, “You are in limbo land, lady. Your soul, which as a demon would have been dammed, is slated for reevaluation.”

“What?” This all sounded like nonsense. And I protested. “What in the blazes are you saying? I can’t help the way I was born! I think it is very unjust for God to punish someone simply by an accident of birth!”

“Your birth was no accident,” the biker, George, said.

I stared at him. What did he mean by that?

He nodded, seeing I was listening now. “Every soul comes into this life to be tested. Human beings are those that properly came into the world for a regular life test. Those affected by the supernatural have a different life test. For example: elves came into this world with a special duty and knowledge of the pre-world.” I glanced over to those elvish death angels who appeared bored with me. He continued, “But demons are those souls who had rebelled against God before this life—mostly elves—but then hurried back to God and begged for a second chance, just so they could have a body. And He granted it to them on the condition that they prove their worth. Any body would do, they said.”

Chills went down my arms. Somehow this felt real. I had wondered about the souls of all the previous vimps before me. I wondered if they were truly evil, or if their passions had overwhelmed them and had driven them to be the monsters that they were. I struggled with mine all the time. And I had wondered about my soul. I had wondered that in being part imp as well as part vampire, if I had any human in me at all. Vampires, after all, were once humans. They had chosen the lifestyle to drink blood. It was not something thrust upon them. Thus their eternal reward or punishment would be just.

“Your soul is a particularly hard case,” George said. “And to redeem it, you have to end your curse in whatever way possible. But in the meantime you must serve as a reaper, shepherding spirits to the other side.”

I lifted my eyes to his face. “I have to what?”

“You’re grim reaper, lady,” one of the other death angels said.

I looked to him. “You’re kidding me.”

He shook his head, smirking at me. He looked like a dude who had been a loan shark at one time. His clothes were the sort one would expect from that sort of fellow.

So I said, “Were you once human?”

He nodded to me. “Deathbed repentance. Special case. This is my second chance after a life of, you know, gangster stuff. I didn’t know any better, I grew up in it, and I had a hard deal. I didn’t learn right from wrong until too late. By the time I was ready to make a change I was dyin’. I saved a stupid kid’s life, and that saved me. But God don’t reward deathbed repentance. He needs sincerity and a true change of heart. You can’t convert in a casket.”

I leaned back and looked at the others. My eyes set on the biker again. “Is that your story?”

George the biker smirked. “Yeah. Kinda. You’ve ever seen that movie Raising Arizona?”

I shook my head.

He cackled. “You missed out. Great flick.”

I didn’t get it.

But then I looked to the demons who were reapers. “So… you changed sides?”

The demon shook his head. “No. And yes. Like you, I did not want my

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 04.02.2019
ISBN: 978-3-7554-7887-4

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