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And the Angels Cried
The Story of Angel Eros Haemon
Part 2
After that, and I am not sure how, I discovered I had gained a kind of fame throughout the Vampires for being friendly with not only the other races but all of the tribes of Vampires as well. Almost as soon as I left school, the leader of my tribe, Prince Aubrey, hired me as a personal advisor and liason between the two tribes he ruled. I should not say he needed my help, but he truly did.
Aubrey is…perhaps “touched” would be the best word. He is intelligent, to be sure, more so than many of our kind. Still, a thin line exists between genius and madness, a line that he often seems to cross.
Of course, much of that was a result of how he has been treated his whole life by those meant to serve him. He is a Halfling, the result of an affair between the old leaders of the Elfin and Incubus tribes. Neither of them had another child, so he was the only heir of the two tribes and therefore became the ruler of them. As a result, neither group gives him much respect. We Halflings are treated like an under-species, below even the Turned, by pureblooded Born-Vampires. Unfortunately, and as another strike to him, Aubrey also has never possessed the proper amount of power for his age and lineage. Had he been properly powerful, his lineage would not have mattered quite so much; I myself have always been far more powerful than I should be for my age and have never been the target of much hatred. However, Aubrey never possessed much power at all, and this fact was often the source of more ridicule and claims that it only proved Vampires should never inter-marry.
Because of all of this, Aubrey and I understood each other more completely than anyone I am sure he has ever known, although much of that rested on one fact in particular: we were both in love with men whom it was dangerous for us to communicate with, much less love, at all. In fact, that was what this whole war was about: Aubrey’s love. For Aubrey had fallen utterly, completely, deeply in love with the prince of the Dark Angel tribe, a prince who had not even known he existed until Aubrey told him. He did not love Aubrey back in the slightest. In fact, I believe Prince Bran was the one who hated Aubrey the most.
Not long after Aubrey employed me, I arranged a meeting with Bran. It was foolish, I thought, to be coordinating a war against someone I had never met. For I was coordinating the war; Aubrey was absolutely hopeless when it came to strategy. I may adore him, but I have no idea how he managed to survive for as long as he has.
As I said, I had never met Bran before that meeting, so I hardly knew what to expect. He seemed nice enough for the enemy, as he had responded to my letter himself and had even promised they would be expecting me and I should run into no trouble.
However, no trouble does not mean no one. I expected to be stopped at the doors of his mansion, asked who I was, then led to wherever I was supposed to go. I was not, not at all. As I approached the doors, the guards stepped aside and bowed. One even ran to hold the door open for me. It was bizarre.
And it only got stranger. Everyone stepped aside as I walked through the halls. It was a little irritating, in fact. I wanted someone to stop me, so I could ask where I was supposed to go. Bran had not enclosed directions or a map in his letter, so I was completely lost. I finally decided that if no one was going to approach me, I would just have to approach them, and that was when all this peculiarity transformed into something almost worse.
I walked up to a guard, ignoring his look of confusion. “Excuse me,” I said, trying to sound as polite as possible, “could you direct me to wherever the prince is? I am supposed to meet him, but I am afraid I was never given directions as to where.”
The guard stared at me as though I had suddenly sprouted another head. Then without warning, I found myself face-first against the wall, my arms twisted uncomfortably behind my back.
“Clever disguise,” the guard growled in my ear. I winced as a rope of magic wrapped tightly around my wrists, binding them together. “But it ain’t good enough. You got a bit to research still.”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” I protested, not struggling in the hope that he would realize I was not a danger. I could have easily eliminated the rope binding me, but that would not put me in this man’s good books.
“You’re bein’ arrested for impersonation and, probably, attempted assassination, bud,” the guard growled. He tugged me away from the wall and gave my back a solid shove to get my legs moving. Normally, I would continue to play along just to be cooperative, but I was not feeling very cooperative just then. I could not understand why I was being treated like a criminal when I had done nothing wrong, and I felt a little offended by it all; Bran had promised I would not be given trouble.
I turned around and faced the guard. “I do not understand. Who am I impersonating?”
“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” the guard warning, his fingers crackling with energy.
“What is going on?” I demanded.
I expected the attack. I had seen from the beginning that this man was not the type who took pressure well, and I was definitely pressuring him. I pulled up an energy shield just in time to block the blast of energy he sent at me. At the same time, I broke the magic binding my wrists. Through the rippling air of the shield between us, I saw alarm forming on the guard’s face. I could only assume no one had broken free of his magic before.
“Forgive me, I must be going,” I said quickly. “I am already late.” Then before he could react, I turned and ran in the direction he had shoved me in, away from him. I heard him shout behind me, and I am sure he threw more energy-balls, but now that I had my hands free, it was a simple task to keep up a powerful shield behind me.
I still did not know where Prince Bran might be, but I was sure I would find him eventually, or perhaps someone who would be more willing to help me than that guard.
I tried all of the doors I came to but none were unlocked. I turned the corner without looking to see what surprises it might hold and found myself at a dead end with only a set of tall double doors before me. Cursing my luck, I ran up to them, expecting them to be locked like all the other doors. To my relief, the door moved under my touch and I ducked inside.
As I looked around, I sighed in relief. The room was huge and extremely impressive, almost to point of being intimidating. In fact, I would not be surprised if that was what the builder had intended. Aubrey had several rooms like this that were supposed to scare the enemy into weakness. In the middle stood a long table, host to several people near the farthest end, but I only paid them the slightest notice. I was on the run, after all; I needed to find a place to hide.
“Who are you?”
I looked over and finally took in the group of people sitting there. I heard a few gasps, mirrored by my own. Sitting at the head of the table was myself.
“Who are you?” repeated my look-alike, whom I now realized was the one who had spoken before. I could understand why. It was a huge shock to see someone who looked identical to me.
As I looked closer, though, I could see a few slight differences. We did not dress alike, though our dress was similar. His voice was deeper than mine, and he looked to be a little taller. But the most obvious and striking difference I could see, even from so far away, was that our eyes were completely different colors. Then I spotted a gold circlet in his hair and immediately bowed.
“Forgive me for being late,” I said. “I ran into some trouble in the hall.”
Said trouble chose that moment to run in, out of breath. I tried to move to dodge any attacks he might send at me, but my body no longer wanted to respond. Looking up, I saw that my look-alike had stood with his hand outstretched toward me to keep my body frozen, though his glare was directed at the guard. I was amazed; very few Vampires could hold me so easily.
“What is going on here?” the prince demanded. “Guarin, who is this?”
“An intruder, sir,” the guard said. “I underestimated him. It won’t happen again.”
“I am not an intruder!” I protested. I turned to the prince, since speaking to the guard would be useless. “My name is Angelo Haemon. I wrote you to ask for a meeting and you replied so I came.”
Bran was startled and nearly lost his hold on me. “You’re Haemon?”
“Yes. I tried to tell your guard, but he would not listen.”
I felt a wave of magic pass over me and I could move again. Bran’s arm had dropped to his side.
“How is this possible?” he wondered aloud. “We look exactly alike, but it’s no enchantment…”
“Our eyes are different,” I pointed out, “but I am truly as amazed as you. I have known Dark Angels, and they never mentioned this.”
“No, they never did…” Bran suddenly smirked. “Wanna switch places?”
“My lord?” the guard exclaimed in shock. The few people at the table shook their heads, a few giving exasperated sighs.
I smiled. “I am afraid we would have a bit more difficulty pulling that off than the characters in the book, your Majesty.”
Bran laughed. Everyone other than the two of us looked utterly bewildered at this turn of events.
“My lord, what do I do about the intruder?” Guarin asked hesitantly once he thought he would be heard.
“He’s not an intruder,” Bran said, sitting down. “We’ve been expecting him. Get back to work.”
“Y-yes, my lord,” stuttered Guarin. He glanced at the two of us one last time before backing out of the room.
“I had been wondering why I hadn’t heard of your arrival yet,” Bran said conversationally.
“I was able to walk in unchallenged,” I answered, “at least, until I had to ask for directions. I think it is clear why.”
“Yeah…” Bran frowned and waved me over. “Hey, come sit down. You’re not here to stand in the doorway.”
“Thank you, your Majesty,” I said, heading over to him. To my surprise, he pulled out the chair next to his for me.
“You don’t need to be so formal with me, either,” he said as I sat down. “We’ll probably be hanging out a lot, so I’d rather we acted like friends rather than a prince and pauper.”
I smiled faintly at the reference. “Thank you. To be honest, I have never liked being so formal.”
“Great. I can see already we’re gonna be close.”
I found myself smiling without realizing it; Bran was a very likable person. I could understand why Aubrey was so taken with him.
“I know you’re one of Aubrey’s,” Bran said, now frowning curiously. “I’ve heard of you a little, though not much. But you didn’t mention that in the letter you sent.”
“No, because Aubrey did not send me. I wanted to meet you myself.”
Bran stared at me. “Why?”
“Well, it is rather hard to plan a war against someone you know nothing about,” I said jokingly. I waited for the few titters among the others to cease before going on more seriously. “Really though, I would like to find a way to end the war.”
“I think you’re talking to the wrong prince,” said one of the other Vampires.
I shook my head, still addressing Bran. “My lord—”
“Bran.”
“Bran,” I repeated, little surprised. “This war has been going on since before I was born. When I was very young, I thought there was a noble reason for it, I quickly came to realize that is not the case. We are losing lives—very rare, valuable lives—for an obsession, for that is all Aubrey’s love is. It is foolish to continue this war.”
Bran cocked an eyebrow. “You think you can single-handedly end the war?”
“Of course not; it would be folly to try,” I said, shaking my head. “But I think I can help. I know quite a few people who want it to end.”
“There are far more who want to keep it going,” Bran said. “The Strigoii for example. Their society is in turmoil. They’re hoping a war will help them get on their feet again.”
I nodded; I knew that. The Strigoii had sent representatives to both of our tribes, offering their assistance. Aubrey had flat out refused them.
“I can understand that,” I said, “but neither of our tribes is in that position. We could end the war now and suffer no more ill effects than we already are.”
Bran frowned at me for a moment. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” I answered, bewildered. “Almost nineteen, why?”
Bran sighed. “That’s why…You can dream about a simple end to the war and a happily-ever-after, because you’ve never lived through a war. There’re people dead that have to be taken care of, war debts, damages…all sorts of thing you can’t imagine.”
“I am sorry, I did not mean to sound as though I knew more than you,” I said quickly; this man was far more powerful than I was, so I did not want to make him angry.
Bran shook his head. “It’s fine. Like I said, you can’t know. I want this war to end, too; Aubrey’s fighting pretty dirty, and I’ve had personal losses. But ending a war isn’t as simple as you seem to think.”
I remembered those words, and it was good that I did, because they proved to be very true. I tried for weeks to persuade Aubrey to end the war and find someone else to pursue, but he would not listen to reason. It finally got to the point where he threatened to destroy me if I brought up the idea again, so I chose to follow another option for my own safety. I began speaking to the people instead.
Up until then, I had a kind of fame throughout the Vampire tribes, but it was a fame of rumor rather than knowledge. I tended not to stray into my world very often, so the only people I knew personally were those I had gone to school with. Otherwise, I was the Halfling who kept the company of an Angel of the Sun and had friends among every race. Hardly anyone had ever actually seen me up close or even knew my full name.
Therefore, when I began talking to my fellow Vampires, I received a number of reactions, the most common being that I was Bran. Most of my people did not like that, since they had been fighting the war long enough to become prejudiced against him and his tribe. A few were intolerant of Halflings and instantly mistrusted me because of it. Some simply disliked that I was dating an Angel, or that I was friends with other races, or that I was so close to Aubrey and Bran. It was very difficult at first to get anyone to listen to me, much less my ideas.
Then suddenly, they did begin to listen. I had no idea why at first until one day I saw Dominique talking to a few people, then Alexander a few days later. I have never felt more gratification towards others in my life; those Vampire friends I had in school were now trying to help me because they knew me, knew no one was listening, and knew they could convince others that I meant no harm and actually had good things to say. Without them, I know I would still be struggling against that giant block of distrust and prejudice.
One of the first to come over to me during all this was a Psychic Vampire named Constantine Adfaer. Ah, Constantine. He was my undoing, my complete and utter defeat. My Constantine.
Psychic Vampires have long been considered “fake” by many of our kind, along with the Turned. They have no Hunters because they are not born Vampires the way the rest of us are; rather, they “Awaken” as Vampires when they turn seventeen. Most are born to the Other Races, though a few come from pure humans. Because of this, they are the shortest lived of all of us, and they have no sense of our culture or history before they enter our world.
Constantine was one of the few who came from a human family. His family was small, only four people, and highly religious. They were the type who went to church five days a week, participated in all church-run events, and thought one would go to hell for even talking to the wrong person. For Constantine, all that changed when he Awoke as a Vampire. I have never known someone from a background like his to accept his fate so quickly. That is probably what drew me to him in the first place.
I must admit, if I have one failing, it is that I love too easily. Of course, I love nearly everyone I am even fond of; I do love Bran and Aubrey, and all my friends from school and outside it. I am most fond of those willing to allow me to Feed on them, because they are so willing to place their lives in my hands. However, they only took up a small place in my heart, and Kiran possessed the rest. I would have gladly died for him by any hand but his. However, that was until I met Constantine.
I did still love Kiran; that has never changed nor ever will. But I quickly began feeling the same way for Constantine as I did Kiran, and it was frightening, even shameful. After all, how could I give my heart to two people?
I am not sure Constantine ever knew exactly what Kiran meant to me. I never told him out of fear of driving him away though he might have guessed. I loved him deeply and could not stand to see him hurt.
Did you know, Kiran? Did you ever suspect how much he meant to me? That he shared your sacred place in my heart? I know I was obvious about it, that much became plain to me. I even tried to be obvious, so that perhaps you could drag me out of my sin like the angel you are.
Look at me; I am growing almost hysterical. Of course you knew. I saw it every time I looked into your eyes, yet I still betrayed you. I can see it even now; you hate what you are doing, and yourself for doing it.
Will you come with me? I do not want to die alone…I…I am truly getting hysterical. Come with me, for we are both dripping in sin and denied eternal happiness.
I know you will not. You do not need to tell me so. I can see my betrayal shining in your eyes. You are still hurting deeply because of Constantine.
My Constantine, my shameful love, my deathly affair. I cannot help but love him still, though he is the reason for my death.
We were happy for a while, or as happy as we could be in the middle of a war. Often we were very stressed: I because I felt guilty for what I was doing, and he because his people had joined Bran’s side in the war. I loved Constantine’s presence; his calm nature was a pleasant contrast to Kiran’s chaotic one, and his energy was nearly as pure as that of a true angel. I hardly noticed I was slowly beginning to spend more time with him than with Kiran.
Then one day I arrived home to find Kiran waiting for me. I was immediately on the alert, for Kiran rarely ever came home before me.
“Who is he?” he demanded before I could even greet him.
I nearly took a step back in surprise. “What do you mean? Who is who?”
Kiran’s gold eyes narrowed. “You know perfectly well. The other person you’re seeing. Who is he?”
“Constantine Adfaer,” I answered. I had no reason to lie. “You know that. He has been working with me in the Resistance, and he offered to Feed me, even though it is dangerous for him.”
“I should have known,” he muttered, looking away. Immediately, I felt alarmed. Just before he had looked away, I thought I had seen a flash of betrayal in his eyes.
“Kiran, it is nothing. You know I develop close relationships with my donors—”
“But he’s different, isn’t he?”
My chest seemed to shrink. “What?”
“You haven’t even noticed, have you?” he whispered harshly.
“Noticed what?” I asked, completely confused since I had not noticed anything different.
As soon as Kiran closed his eyes, I knew I had severely messed up. For Kiran to show his emotions so freely, he must have been extremely upset.
“What did I do, Kiran?” I asked as I took I step forward, desperate to fix whatever I had done. It hurt to see him like this.
“I know you have relationships with your donors,” Kiran said. I nearly recoiled from the blank tone he was using. “It’s impossible for Incubi not to. I know that.”
“I…I do not understand what the problem is then,” I said carefully. Kiran was volatile at best when he got like this.
Kiran’s body shuddered. I noticed his hands twitching, as though they longed to be holding a weapon of some kind.
“You’ve been spending more time with this Constantine than me!” Kiran finally exclaimed. In an instant, a sword was in his hand. I took a step back, my hand finding the hilt of my own sword.
“You would kill me over this?” I whispered. Kiran seemed shaken but no less incensed.
“I would kill you over a lot of things,” he answered. He brushed past me and walked out of the apartment.
“Kiran, wait!” I called, running after him. “Please, I can explain!”
He paused a short way down the hall, as though ready to listen, but instead disappeared in his customary burst of white feathers.
I sank to the ground against the wall, unable to stay standing. For the first time since he had given me my sword, I felt terrified of him.
The murder appeared on the front page of the newspaper the next day. A picture was included with the article, but I could bear no more than a glance at it, for I already knew what it would show. The article only provided the bare bones of what had happened, for the police knew next to nothing, but that was hardly an issue for me. I could see what had happened as I read over the article shaking in my hands; it was a skill of mine.
Kiran appeared in the middle of Constantine’s home in his burst of feathers, looking every bit the vengeful angel he was. It was a breathtaking sight, literally, as I knew why he was there and it petrified me. Kiran cast a spell to locate Constantine, one I had always intended to learn from him but never did, and smiled coldly when it worked. He stalked across the room toward then up the stairs. My vision followed him, though I wish it had not.
Even before Kiran reached it, I suspected Constantine was already in his bedroom, fast asleep. It was close to dawn, and Psychics like him usually still had jobs in the human world, so he would need sleep. Still, I prayed he would not be there, that Kiran had not really found him, though I knew it was in vain. I knew from the article that he had. Kiran took steady steps toward the bedroom until I could see that, yes, my beautiful Constantine was asleep, unaware of the danger so close to him.
I wanted to cry out, to warn him, but it would do no good. This had already happened; he could not hear me, and I could do nothing to stop it.
I closed my eyes in a futile attempt to stop seeing it, but the vision persisted in torturing me. I was forced to watch as Kiran sheathed his sword, drew a dagger out of his sleeve, and plunged it into one of Constantine’s wrists.
Constantine screamed before he woke. I felt sick with guilt that my actions had brought this upon him. If only I had ignored him, treated him that same as anyone else, he would not be dead.
He jerked in pain as he woke and screamed again. The sound echoed in my ears, as I am sure it will forever. Kiran must have used one of his special daggers that were laced with a poison that targeted a Vampire’s very soul. That was all I could think of that would make Constantine let out such a raw, tortured scream.
“He made such beautiful sounds while he died,” hissed a voice in my ear. “I wonder that you did not do it yourself.”
The vision vanished. I felt something wet on my cheeks and realized I was crying. I turned without a second thought and buried my face in Kiran’s neck, letting my tears soak his collar. I felt as though half my heart had been ripped from my chest and trampled upon by a thousand feet. Everything was coming to an end. I could only pray that Kiran would quickly end this wild ride, because the controls had stopped working for me.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, nearly choking on my sorrow. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”
“I know,” Kiran murmured. I felt his arms close around me and only sobbed harder. I had hurt him beyond repair with this betrayal, he whom I had saved from certain death so long ago. I could do nothing to fix that now.
“At least give me a chance?” I whispered, finally running dry of tears.
“I could do nothing less,” I heard him say, a little distantly. Was I going to faint? I could not allow that. “You are everything to me, my Angelo. Angelo, my Angel of Death…”
“Will you forgive me?” I murmured as I pressed my lips to his. Sometime during this kiss, my tears began again, because either way, I knew one of us was not going survive this.
I screamed, a scream that sounded raw even to my own ears. White fire flooded my veins, fiercest in my back. My knees buckled and I collapsed against his legs. Another scream tore from my throat as the fire spiked again, then I was left with a dull throbbing that was no better than the original misery. I felt a hand grab my collar and was dragged to my feet.
“I don’t forgive,” Kiran’s voice whispered coldly in my ear. A wet blade trailed across my cheek and I was instantly on guard, shoving the pain away. This was no longer my Kiran but the Hunter destined to kill me, and he would show no mercy.
“And I never forget,” Kiran finished in a hiss. The blade whipped toward my neck, but I reacted first. I kicked him in the stomach, breaking his grip, and ducked away. Before he could recover, I set up my strongest shield around him and ran out of the room.
I doubted I would get very far, since Kiran could fly and I could not, but it would be difficult for him to break though my shield, so I had that much time, at least.
My back throbbed where Kiran had stabbed me, but I could not afford to use up my energy healing it. Besides, I knew Kiran well enough to know he had probably poisoned the blade not only so I would have difficulty healing it, but also just to slow me down. Indeed, I could feel fatigue creeping through my limbs as I ran, but I pushed on. I was going to fight to my last breath.
I teleported myself away as soon as I reached the stairs that led down to the next floor of the building. I would not endanger the lives of the humans who lived there anymore than I already had. Kiran would follow me wherever I went, but that too would take time and give me more of a chance.
I landed in the midst of battle. A little shocked, it took me a moment to gain my bearings, but then I was off to find a suitable spot for us in a less hectic place.
My world exploded in fire again. I distantly felt my face and palms scrape against the ground but kept my mouth shut, unwilling to give Kiran the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I still wound up in a shaking ball.
I opened my eyes as I felt a shadow loom over me. Kiran stood there, as magnificent and terrible as when he had killed Constantine, his sword idly spinning in his hand.
“You aren’t playing very nice, my Angel,” Kiran murmured, barely audible among the ruckus around us.
“And I do not plan to,” I answered. I rolled out of the way as he drove the sword into the ground where my heart had been. Before he could recover, I scrambled to my feet and ran.
Cursing my stupidity, I erected a shield around me that would stop nearly everything. Then I flicked my fingers back toward him over my shoulder, hardly pausing as I heard him scream when the spell took effect. Many of the soldiers had taken notice of us and had stopped fighting, but I hardly cared. They would stay out of our way.
“You think you can defeat me by running, Angelo?” Kiran called behind me. He had dispersed the spell then. I glanced back and felt a jolt of fear when I saw that he had called out his two huge, white wings and was steadily gaining on me in the air. Really, that was unfair.
I stopped and turned to face him. I would not win by running, and I would no longer gain any time. I turned my focus inward and directed my energy to form a thick vine. I could see it wrap around me, though no one else could. Then as soon as he drew near enough, I whipped the vine out at him.
He jerked in the air as it wrapped around him, obviously trying to get free. I shook him a bit to get him unsettle him, and then slammed him down into the ground. As I pulled my energy back, I nearly collapsed. Controlling energy was an ability of my people and my strongest attack, but it was extremely tiring.
I watched him for a few moments, and when he failed to move, I almost allowed myself to relax, and rest, and mourn. Then my heart nearly stopped. A sound so ethereal it made the angels cry floated up from where he lay as he began singing the one song that made him so dangerous.
“Heaven’s Light?” I whispered. I could hardly move for fear. Heaven’s Light was a spell-song that could only be cast by the Angels, and it was deadly to my race. I had not expected Kiran to use it on me, not at all.
“Kiran, stop!” I cried, but he could not hear me over the song, or perhaps he simply chose to ignore me. Either way, the music continued, a constant stream of notes bringing me closer to my downfall. He was singing the first part of the spell now, one of healing, which was not at all dangerous to me. However, the first part could not work properly without the second, and that was the part I most feared. And yet, I found myself unable to move; Kiran’s voice was simply too beautiful to run from.
I felt, rather than heard, the scream that ripped from my throat as the song changed. The white fire of earlier was like a warm breeze compared to this. I could feel my body falling apart, and terror nearly consumed me. It was all I could do to pray for it to end quickly.
Kiran’s song echoed in my ears as it ended. Even in the state I was in, I knew something was wrong. Obviously, I had never been subjected to this spell before, but I knew that a Vampire never lived to hear the end of it. Yet, I was definitely still in my body, as damaged as it was, so I was not hearing this as a ghost. I wished I were; anything would be better than this.
Kiran suddenly loomed over me. I felt my resolve breaking again. I had no tears left to shed, but blood came to their aid and poured down my cheeks instead.
“End it, Kiran,” I gasped, shaking in pain. “Please, just end it…”
Kiran knelt beside me. His hand on my cheek burned. “You should not be alive,” he murmured, sounding as confused as I was.
“Angelo!”
I hardly recognized the voice, but I prayed he would not come near. I did not want Aaron to see me like this.
“It must be because you’re part-human,” Kiran went on, his hand now in my hair. “Heaven’s Light doesn’t work on humans.”
I did not care. That really only made me feel worse. I was denied death because of something I could not help. How enlightening. “Please, Kiran…”
Kiran stood and drew his sword. I heard Aaron skid to a halt nearby.
“No, Kiran, you don’t have to do this,” he panted. “You’ve proven your point. Let’s get him some help.”
I could only stare up at my Angel, pleading silently for him to finish it. I was in pain; I was scared; I wanted Aaron to understand. Kiran stared down at me, I mixture of emotions in his eyes. Foremost was betrayal, but it was fading the more I watched.
“I’m scared, Kiran,” I whispered.
“So am I,” he murmured. His sword gleamed in the fading light. Aaron screamed. I felt no more pain.
I tell you this at the moment of my death so you will know that my angel cried again. I knew this first hand. His tears fell on my cheek as the world fell into darkness.
And the angels cried.
Anyway, this is a sample of a series I'm currently working on. This is actually the rough draft/outline of one of the books, one that won't be published in a while. However, I am using this world in the whole series. So, if you enjoyed this, find me on MySpace, and look around in about a year for a book!
