The Soul Thief, Page 2

  What was she looking for? Was the demon responsible still here in the park somewhere? Was it feasting on the girl’s soul?

  Pine Park was blanketed in darkness. The decorative lampposts scarcely illuminated anything. Most of the demons and the other monsters of the Netherworld came out at night. They fed on the darkness, and in return the darkness gave them strength.

  A feeling of being watched crept over her, like icy fingers wrapped around her neck. Even before she saw it, she felt the presence of death, of something not from this world. She could just make out a shadowy, man-shaped silhouette next to a large Magnolia tree. It had no features at all, but the head quested from side to side, as if the smell of blood and death had made it restless. It was large and careful to stay in the shadows. She smelled sulfur. She’d never seen such a creature before, but every fiber in her new body told her that the thing that stood in the shadows of the trees was a demon.

  Alexa knew that blood and souls were favorites on the demons’ paranormal menu. Demons were born in the darkness at the depths of the Netherworld, and they hungered for human life. They always had, and they always would.

  The mortals in the park walked right past it, unware of the danger that lurked in the shadows. They were unware that this demon was hungry for their souls and their life force.

  The demon’s head stopped moving, and Alexa knew its attention was now centered on her. Even from a hundred feet away she could feel its foul, malicious intent, its hunger for life. It moved forward with a predatory gait, slowly at first, but a little faster when it reached the walkway. The nearest lamppost flickered and went out. The demon’s faceless head focused on her. The vile, burnt smell of death and rot wafted through the air.

  Her hand instinctively went to her waist, where she would have carried a soul blade when she had been training in Horizon. But there was no blade there now. Her fingers brushed against the pouch filled with the salt that was her only weapon. Soul blades were the primary weapon that guardian angels used to kill demons, but they could also kill angels. So only trained officers and guardians could use them. Alexa was a rookie, and rookies weren’t allowed to use soul blades on the job.

  She looked down at the pouch and cursed under her breath. “Thanks, Ariel,” she grumbled.

  While salt was used to kill demons and send their spirits back to the Netherworld, you needed a lot of it before it actually took effect, and by then the demon might already have taken control.

  Her first day on the job was proving to be worse than she could have imagined. Still, she’d been trained for this. Hunting demons should come naturally to her. Hopefully.

  When she looked back, the demon’s attention had turned to a group of teenagers making their way down a path. It leapt invisibly onto the back of a boy in a blue New York Mets baseball cap. The boy stumbled like he’d tripped, but then he steadied himself. His smile disappeared and his face turned pale and joyless. A chill went down Alexa’s back when she saw that the boy’s eyes were glazing over with the thin gray veil of the dead.

  Alexa started moving.

  Desperately, she tried to remember what she knew of lesser demons and their weaknesses. Which one was this? An Anstroth demon? A Val’dor demon? Could she kill it with just salt?

  She needed to make a decision, and she needed to make it fast. She had to save the boy’s life. This was her job. If this was the creature that had killed the girl, its thirst for human life was out of control. It wouldn’t stop.

  The other teens didn’t see the creature. They didn’t notice that their friend lagged behind, sick and dying, as they continued down the path. The boy moved clumsily, one leg at a time, as though he had become a puppet. Suddenly, he turned and walked off the path into a patch of darkness.

  Alexa grabbed a handful of salt and ran.

  CHAPTER 3

  IT WASN’T REALLY RUNNING. It was more like a stumbling catastrophe. At first it was as if her legs were made of lead, stiff and extremely heavy. Alexa willed them to move faster, but it was useless. It was as though she weren’t in control of her mortal suit, a prisoner in someone else’s body. Technically, she was moving, but it was more like she had heavy robot limbs that needed oiling. Every stride was a battle. It was almost like she was trying to run through a river, constantly fighting her way through the current. The thought of water sent another chill through her, but she pushed forward, her thoughts on the boy.

  She had to save him.

  She reminded herself that her duty as a guardian angel was to save and protect human life. Given the choice again, she wasn’t sure she would have pledged the angel oath and permanently bound herself to her angel duties. Why hadn’t she just said no?

  Her mortal suit was familiar yet odd. It was all just way too confusing. But one thing she knew for sure, she was wearing a defected one. There was no way it was supposed to be this hard to move. The archangel Ariel had told her the suit would feel completely natural to her, just like her body when she was alive.

  Alexa wanted to punch Ariel in the face.

  The M-9 was supposed to give her superhuman strength, speed, agility, superior healing, a predator’s instinct, enhanced supernatural senses, and innate combat skills. But Alexa had not been so lucky.

  Cursing her faulty body, Alexa was very much aware of the strange looks she got from the mortals she passed. She probably looked like a drunken fool, struggling with a body that wouldn’t listen. She tried to ignore the strange prickling sensation in her limbs and focused upon making the suit work at operational speed. But the more she struggled, the worse her body responded. She staggered down the path, arms flailing about, and she only managed to control herself at the last second before she pitched into a shrub of neatly trimmed hydrangeas. Perhaps her body was rejecting her? Could a mortal suit reject its host?

  “Someone’s been partying hard,” laughed one of the teen boys as she passed them on shaky legs and tried her best not to fall flat on her face.

  Alexa wanted to scream at them for not noticing their friend was missing, but that would have brought too much attention to the boy and his demon problem. The boy would have appeared frail and deathly sick to his friends, but it wasn’t a mortal sickness, and it couldn’t be cured by any mortal means. If his friends discovered the boy before Alexa got to him, the situation for the boy would seriously worsen.

  It would have been a mistake if they had taken him to a hospital. He would die. Without Alexa’s intervention, the demon would have had ample time to finish the boy, and what was worse, when they got to the hospital, the demon would have had free reign to feed on the sick and dying.

  There was only one way to save him. But Alexa wasn’t sure she could do it.

  Her mortal suit, driven by fear and weakened by defects, was on the edge of shutting down, of complete failure. Her legs felt stiff, and her muscles were ready to cramp.

  Just as she was about to give up, she felt a warm surge. It massaged her limbs and worked her muscles so she could break free of the tether that held her back. She began to move with fluidity and purpose.

  She reached the spot where the boy had stumbled into a shadowed area of the park. She leaped over a garbage can and went after him, amazed at how fast she could run. It was as though a switch had been turned to hyperdrive. She’d never run this fast when she was alive. She had always been one of the last girls to be picked for any school teams. With hardly any effort, she was sprinting at a supernatural speed. The balls of her feet barely touched the ground. She smiled and had to restrain herself from crying out. Maybe her mortal suit wasn’t so bad after all.

  When she finally reached him, the boy’s body shimmered. Strands of light like brilliant threads were being pulled from him and sucked into a gaping hole in the demon’s face. The creature was drinking the boy’s life force like a sponge soaking up ink. She knew the demon needed to consume human life to keep itself on the living side of the mortal world, to keep it in life.

  She wanted to scream. While mortals could not see
the trail of life force the demon was stealing from the boy, Alexa could. She knew he wouldn’t last very much longer. The human body could not exist on the mortal plane without its life force. It would suffer a true death and could never be born again. There was no coming back from that.

  The rancid smell of death was a nauseating feast of spoiled meat and human waste. Alexa could taste its putridness in her mouth. While she didn’t need to breathe the air, the stink was there all the same.

  The demon had done a real number on the boy. His skin was pulled tightly around his skull like an elderly man. His hair had turned white, and blue-red veins shone through his paper-thin skin. His mouth hung open in a silent cry, and his face was wet with tears.

  Alexa embraced the familiar anger that flared in her chest.

  The demon turned its head in her direction without breaking its connection with the boy’s life-source. Although it had no eyes or face, she knew it had recognized her for what she was. She was close enough to see the thing clearly now. Its massive and misshapen head was a deformed monstrosity made of rotten, black flesh and bone. The featureless head began to contort when it saw her, twisting and bunching muscles in ways that no face should.

  “Let him go, demon,” she said. She half surprised herself by her new courage. It had to be the M-suit.

  The creature watched her for a moment longer, and for a second Alexa feared it had discovered the salt in her hand. But then it slowly turned away from her, as though it had decided that Alexa wasn’t a real threat, as though it could smell the rookie angel fear on her.

  Although she’d been trained for this, she’d never faced a real demon before. She knew this one had just fed and would have superior strength. It could kill her. If the demon consumed her soul, then she, too, would suffer an angel’s true death. She couldn’t help but feel the terror that threatened to keep her frozen in place. It was like a cold jewel on her breast.

  Thinking too much would let the fear in, and fear would get her killed, even if she was an angel. So, she reacted on instinct.

  She leaped forward, faced the demon, and threw a handful of salt at it. The thing’s head snapped back, and it began to thrash about and scream in a voice that was not human. The salt burned at its dead flesh and sent waves of rotten carrion stench into the air. It was like roadkill that had been left for days in the hot sun.

  Alexa whirled around and looked behind her, afraid the screaming would attract some mortals. But the demon’s wails were not for human ears. The demon continued to scream and thrash, but it did not let go of the boy.

  The boy’s forehead was pasty, and he looked about to fall over. His pale eyes stared out at nothing. He looked worse.

  Alexa threw some more salt, and again the demon screamed and thrashed, but it did not let go.

  The boy swayed and then suddenly fell to his knees. The creature was still attached to him like a large engorged tick. Alexa began to panic. Without a real weapon, the boy was going to die while she stood and watched it happen. On her watch.

  “Get off him!”

  Desperate, she hurled herself at the demon. Her hands slipped on its cold, wet clothes. She tried not to think about why they were wet, but she managed to grab ahold of him, and she yanked and pulled with all her strength. There was a loud ripping sound, like the tearing of cloth, and she and the demon tumbled to the ground.

  As her instincts and training kicked in, Alexa rolled and jumped to her feet, fists up in front of her, her only weapons. The demon was already on its feet, circling her. Thin trails of smoke coiled from its body, as though it burned with a shadow fire. Its head swayed as it muttered some dark spell in a guttural language that was not human. It sounded like the grinding of rocks.

  “Your spell won’t work on me,” bluffed Alexa.

  But a new terror spiraled inside her. She had no idea if a demon’s curse would work on angels. The air suddenly chilled and smelled of burned matches. She recognized the smell of demon magic. She knew that whatever dark curse it had spoken had begun to work on her. She felt her limbs tighten, as though invisible bonds were tightening around her body.

  “I have protection,” she said loudly and hoped she sounded convincing. She reached inside her shirt and pulled out the tiny silver bell that hung from a silver chain around her neck. The archangel Raphael from the Department of Miracles had given it to her to ward off demon curses. She shook the bell once, and it tinkled in the eerie silence.

  It had no effect whatsoever, and Alexa’s limbs continued to cramp.

  “Great. Just great.”

  A wet, hacking sound like mocking laughter shrieked out of the gaping hole in the demon’s face. The deformed thing jabbered poisonous words and leered at Alexa. Its grotesque, gulping voice released a variety of horrible sounds, as though it were trying out difference languages. Finally, it found the one it was looking for.

  “Angel,” said the demon.

  She could smell the stench of rotting flesh on its breath.

  “It has been centuries since I had the unfortunate pleasure of being in the presence of you creatures. My last meeting with you was an ill-fated one, as I was defeated and sent back to the Netherworld. But not before I had fed on more than a hundred, delicious lives.”

  “I won’t let you kill another mortal, demon,” said Alexa, standing her ground. She would not let this demon frighten her. But she knew she was fooling herself because she could feel her limbs growing heavier and heavier. The demon’s curse was taking hold of her. “You might have slipped through the Legion’s watch when you attacked the girl,” said Alexa, “But I won’t let you kill this boy.” She could see that he still lay motionless on the ground. She saw a flicker of warm light in him. He was still alive. His soul was still intact, but barely.

  “The girl?” The demon cocked its head, as though it didn’t know what she meant. “You are a girl…an angel girl, and without weapons. Curious.”

  “So, what kind of demon are you?” Alexa asked. She wanted to keep it talking instead of killing her. She knew she was floundering. She needed a plan before her fear overwhelmed her. Her mortal suit was a dead weight. Although her limbs were stiff, she could still move her arms and legs a little, and she shuffled back. She suspected that her body would soon become completely useless and she would be trapped in her mortal suit.

  But she still had the salt.

  The demon stepped closer, and Alexa cringed at its ghastly, wet, rotten skin and its rancid smell. She held her breath, although it was a very mortal thing to do, and stared at the spot where she felt its eyes should be. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and her skin began to crawl. She struggled to maintain her courage.

  “You cannot fight or defeat me, little angel girl,” mocked the demon. “And your beloved Legion cannot stop what’s coming. The time of angels is over. You are weak, monkey-lovers who serve a flawed and murderous species. But not for long. What has fallen will rise again. Before there was light, before your precious Legion and archangels existed, there wasn’t nothing. He was there. He was the beginning, and He will be the end. He will become everything.”

  Alexa managed to take another step back. “Who is he—?”

  The demon lunged.

  It was on her before she could react. Its taloned hands scratched at her face, her chest, and her arms. The white light of her angel essence spilled from the deep gashes on her hands as she held them up to protect her face and eyes. The demon pinned her to the ground like a great boulder. She could feel its fingers wrap around her neck and begin to squeeze.

  “Your angel soul is mine,” said the demon. Its hot breath smelled of rotting flesh, and her mortal suit caused her eyes to water.

  It tilted its head sideways and opened its mouth wider and wider, until it was practically as large as its head. Its carrion-breath misted out of its great maw.

  Alexa thrashed and kicked as much as she could, but her M-suit continued to weigh her down. She had some movement in her arms, and although she was almost o
verwhelmed with terror, she tried to push it off. But her hands kept slipping on its slimy clothes, and she couldn’t get a good grip.

  The thing leaned down to embrace her. It lowered its mouth, sucking at Alexa’s angel life force. She felt a tug inside her chest, and then a prickling as a piercing cold entered her body, and sudden darkness weakened her strength and spirit. Her vision blurred, and she began to shiver uncontrollably as black specks spotted her vision. Her eyes burned with tears.

  This thing was going to kill her. She was going to die.

  With the little life that remained in her arms, Alexa instinctively curled her hand around the pouch at her belt. Her trembling fingers cracked as though they were frozen.

  The demon moved its putrid hole-mouth closer and closer until green ooze dripped onto her face, until she could see the darkness that was its throat.

  And she suddenly knew what to do.

  With one swift motion, she shoved the salt pouch into its mouth and pushed it deep. She felt her hands brush the slimy sides of its throat.

  The thing jumped off of her, and in doing so it pulled her arm out of its throat and spilled the salt in the pouch further down inside it. In a mad frenzy, the demon hacked and spit. It pulled at its mouth, ripping at it with its sharp talons. For a second, she thought it had reached the pouch, but it pulled out what looked like an arm in the stages of decomposition. The demon cried out and squirmed about as it tried to force fingers into its throat. But it was too late.

  The demon fought to retrieve the pouch of salt. Its blazing hands formed and reformed, and its body twisted and turned as it yacked up bile that stung her eyes with its rot.

  And that’s when she felt a small prickling. It started slowly, but then a warm surge soared through her, all the way to her toes and fingertips. The demon’s spell had been broken.