Chapter Two

Brax focused his attention on Abby in her room, ensuring she was asleep. When he focused, he could hear the slow and steady thump of her heart along with rhythmic breathing from the next room. The hotel rooms were adjoining, and he nodded to Dante. “Go ahead and close the door.” While she appeared to be sleeping, he wanted to make sure they had complete privacy for the discussion ahead of them.

Dante looked reluctant as he stood up and moved over to close the door, not locking it before returning to the scarred table in the moderately priced motel room. He reached for another beer, and Mal nodded at the cooler, saying, “Pass me a fresh one.”

“You’ve been nursing that one for the last hour,” said Brax as he took a pull from the neck of his bottle. It was some cheap crap Dante had picked up earlier in the day so it would have time to sit in the cooler and be cold by the time they stopped for the night. It wasn’t to his taste. He preferred craft brews or dark lagers, while Mal had a greater appreciation for aged wine. Dante was young though, and at only two hundred twenty-one, he could hardly be expected to have developed a sophisticated palette just yet. He grimaced at the bitter aftertaste as he set down the bottle, staring at his friends.

“Well?” asked Mal after a long silence.

“Well,” said Brax as more of a statement. “What do we all think she is?”

“She feels like an angel,” said Dante, and there was a clear shine of admiration in his gaze. “Except not entirely.”

“That’s ‘cause her sol is damaged, kid,” said Mal. “I’d bet anything she’s an angel too though. I don’t how she came to be so weakened and damaged, but she feels like one of them.” His voice was dripping with disdain when he spoke the last word.

Brax had no love for angels either, just like the rest of his race, so he could hardly fault Mal’s reaction. “I concur. She has that angelic vibe about her, without all the taint of some of the older angels.”

Mal nodded. “She doesn’t seem to have developed her brutality yet. She feels almost like a newborn in some ways.”

“She doesn’t look like a newborn,” said Dante with a chuckle of appreciation.

Brax rolled his eyes, though he could hardly fault the younger man for noticing how attractive Abby was. “You must know how angels are born, kid.”

Dante shrugged a shoulder. “I know the featherbrains take all the fun out of it.”

Brax couldn’t help but chuckle as he nodded his agreement. “Yeah, they do at that. Angels aren’t big on messy emotions or physical interaction. They meld pieces of their sols together to reproduce, and the angel comes out fully formed and already grown. It’s a handy tool when you’re making more soldiers for cannon fodder, though I imagine they aren’t pumping out nearly as many these days since Earth became a neutral zone, and Zephael seems content to bide his time before launching a full-scale invasion.”

“He knows he can’t win against their numbers and ruthlessness,” said Dante before asking, “Why would they decide to make angels that way?”

“Don’t know and don’t care, but it isn’t natural,” said Mal firmly.

Brax nodded his agreement with that again. “Demons and humans have a lot in common, particularly when it came to their reproductive processes. If you’re going to end up with a kid, you might as well have fun making it.” Realizing he’d allowed himself to be distracted from the original topic, he shook his head slightly. “The question, gents, is what will we do about the angel?”

“There’s clearly something wrong with her. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” said Mal as he lifted a hand, obviously realizing Dante was about to object. “I just mean she’s damaged in some way. It could mean nothing, or it could mean the other angels are after her. Hell, even our own kind might be hunting her, and we’re just out of the loop since we keep to ourselves here on Earth.”

“That’s true enough.” Brax drummed his fingers on the scarred tabletop for a moment. “She seems pretty vulnerable.”

“She is,” said Dante with passion. “Uzrael would’ve hurt her or worse. She seems lost and clueless. It would be unfair to leave her to the mercy of the world.”

“You’re such an idealist,” said Mal with a hint of accusation in his tone. “Do you really want to get dragged back into the war? You hardly experienced it at all before you had the sense to ditch the whole thing and come to Earth, but I can tell you how ugly it can get.”

“As can I,” said Brax with a sigh. “I lost my father, mother, and siblings to the conflict with the angels before I decided to hell with all of it. I’m not sure I want to get dragged back in, particularly for an angel.”

Dante crossed his arms over his chest, looking vaguely sullen. “I think we should keep her.”

“She isn’t a toy, kid,” said Mal with a hint of irritation. He scowled at the younger demon. “You can’t just keep her.”

“Imagine if we could,” said Dante with a sigh that revealed where his thoughts were. They had clearly taken a carnal direction judging by the way his pupils dilated.

Reluctantly, Brax shifted in his seat when his faded jeans, worn from age, suddenly felt too tight. He could easily imagine what it might be like to touch her soft skin or stroke her silvery blonde hair. He had no trouble seeing the appeal of keeping her in that context, but he was also experienced enough to realize she likely would have no interest in carnal matters anyway.

Angels considered themselves above such things, and none of the three of them were the type to force any sort of interaction a woman didn’t want. They had shared in the past, but only with willing women capable of giving their full consent. That had never included an angel. To his knowledge, there had never been any kind of relationship of that sort between angels and demons even when they all lived on Caelum, before the angels betrayed them.

“I’m not saying we should toss her to the wolves,” said Mal. He seemed to be moderately affected as well, for his cheeks had taken on a ruddy hue. He cleared his throat. “I’m just saying she can’t be with us for long. I don’t want to get dragged back in, and I’m not interested in fighting for either side. I just want to be left alone here on Earth. The angels can keep Caelum, and I couldn’t give two shits about Infernum.”

Brax winced, though he didn’t entirely disagree. After losing his entire family in the fight to regain Caelum, he’d realized it didn’t matter. One realm or the other, it was all about the same. True, Caelum was practically a paradise compared to Infernum, which had been a second-rate sanctuary chosen by a desperate group of refugees trying to avoid genocide from the angels, and he had no interest in living there, but he didn’t care about Caelum either.

The expulsion of the demons had happened well before his birth, so he had never lived there like some of the original demons. He didn’t feel the compulsion to return to it, and he was pretty happy with his life here on Earth. It was mostly peaceful, and he no longer needed to kill or be killed on a daily basis. Was he willing to risk the balance of that just to help a girl who might possibly be an angel with a mysterious past and shrouded future?

“Maybe we could just help her get somewhere safe,” said Dante, though he clearly wanted to do more.

Brax shared a look with Mal, who sighed and nodded after a moment of contemplation. He looked at the younger demon and nodded as well. “Yeah, we’ll do that. That’s all though. After she’s safe, we all walk away. You okay with that, kid?”

Dante scowled at him. “I’m not a kid. I’m two hundred twenty-one.”

Mal snorted. “When you get to be four hundred, then we’ll talk age, kid.”

Brax grinned in spite of the seriousness of the discussion. “I’m only three thirty-two, but I’ve reached a level of wisdom and maturity as well. You’re going to be the kid for a while longer yet, Dante, until you learn to think with more than just your emotions and instincts.”

“And little Dante,” added Mal with a snort.

Dante scowled at both of them, but he didn’t stalk away. He just reached for his beer and kept sipping it, not looking at either one of them for a while. “You’re sure just leaving her and walking away is the right thing to do?” he asked after setting down his beer.

“It feels like the only thing we can do,” said Brax, realizing that wasn’t a full answer, but how could he give one? The idea of leaving her as she was didn’t sit well with him, but neither did he want an angel or demon magnet that might draw him and his friends back into the fight. It was a fight he’d walked away from long ago, and he had no intention of returning to it now.