Ange et Demon

Chapter 1Staring into the mirror, Matteo fingered the detested scar at his throat. He ran his fingers around to touch another other scar at the base of his skull. In an act of bravado and defiance, he had assimilated that scar into a tattoo: Who Shot Me. Each word was below the next and encased in a circle where the ‘o’ of ‘shot’ was his scar. The scars were a result of being shot by a demon’s dart, without rhyme or reason, just after his twenty-second birthday. It had taken a year before they had established the demon’s name and even then it meant nothing. Although the demon responsible was one that served dark forces, neither Matteo, nor anyone else in his grandfather’s team, had been dealing with Ciaran. “A year to find out who did this, since these scars are as unique as the demon that caused them. You marked me, Ciaran. I’m sure of it. But even after three years I still don’t know why. The reason is as obscure now as it was the day you did it. Knowing you’re the cause still hasn’t given me the reason.” According to his grandfather, Ciaran, while one of the more powerful denizens of the world of darkness, was not a demon they had ever fought or challenged. Yet like his grandfather and the rest of the team, Matteo was certain that such a mark had not been made simply from a sense of malicious mischief. Fortunately his wounds had cauterised instantly, but Matteo had spent several days in a demon-toxin induced fever. Peering more closely into the mirror, he moved his hand to card his fingers through the dark, thick hair so much a part of his Italian heritage. His eyes weren’t just hazel, they were bloodshot and looked every bit as tired as Matteo felt. The week had been hard, but also a successful one. One less demon on the dark side to contend with and, fortunately, no casualties for the side of light. Turning from his reflection, Matteo stretched and sighed. Sometimes he forgot about his mark, his day-to-day life too busy for him to be sorry for himself. However, over the last couple of days, the scar had tingled; there was no other word for it. His grandfather had no explanation for it either and that alone made Matteo even more uncomfortable. With another sigh he pulled on a turtleneck sweater to hide his scar and tried to push it from his mind. With a determined air he strode from the bathroom to meet up with his two best friends who were accompanying him to the Bar. As he strode into the common room, a demon looked up at him, his yellow eyes almost glowing. “Prissy’s still manicuring his eyelashes or something. Wanna look at a game mag with me while we wait?” The blue-skinned demon’s voice dropped to become conspiratorial and he patted the seat on the couch next to him. Grinning, Matteo went to sit with his friend. Ull had become a part of the team just before Matteo’s birth and he had grown up with the demon acting as his baby-sitter, co-conspirator, confessor and big brother. Thick, indigo hair reached Ull’s shoulders, as well as being in a lion-esque ruff around his neck, and was as unruly as the demon himself. As usual Ull was naked. Beneath the thick dark fur at his groin, he possessed a genital slit in which his prodigious genitalia usually remained safely ensconced. As Matteo settled alongside him, Ull’s tail waved lazily as though Ull had no conscious control over the appendage, but Matteo knew better. Where all demons were possessed of a greater strength and speed than humans, Ull was not particularly strong for a preternatural. Instead his greatest talents were agility and speed. He could scale a tree or a skyscraper with equal ease and rapidity; a useful talent in urban jungles. “Games again?” The new voice was crystal clear and lightly melodic and both men looked up at the newcomer. Despite growing up around the reformed fallen angel, sometimes Priel’s appearance still took Matteo’s breath away. Today he was dressed in a light grey Armani suit with a darker grey shirt and looked as though he should be gracing the cover of any of the top glossy magazines. His silver hair was gelled into short spikes and his lilac eyes were warm with amusement. He looked drop-dead gorgeous. “Had to keep ourselves amused while you manicured your eyebrows.” Ull growled the words, but his lips were curled into a smile. “I thought you said you were dressing for the occasion since Grandfather told us he had an announcement.” Priel eyed the naked demon critically. “I did,” Ull crowed, bouncing to his feet and moving some of the thick, lush fur at this throat. Matteo could not stop the laughter as a black-and-white spotted bow tie was revealed. “Demons.” Priel shook his head and sighed. His gaze became more thoughtful as he regarded Matteo. “Is that scar giving you trouble again?” he asked softly. “Why didn’t you say something?” Ull stared at the high collar that hid the Matteo’s throat. “Because I knew you’d fret and want to blame yourself when it was never your fault and it’s just…just…tingling. Nothing more. It just makes me more conscious of it.” Matteo shrugged and sighed loudly, frustration bubbling inside him. “Take that thing off.” Priel’s tone brooked no argument despite its gentleness. As he was still Earth-bound, Priel did not have the full healing abilities of one of his celestial brethren, but he could still help. He waited until Matteo removed the sweater and regarded the scar. “It looks no different. Grandfather mentioned the tingling to me, but I have no answers for it either, Matteo.” “I know. I just get frustrated, you know?” “I know,” Priel murmured softly, peering so closely Matteo felt his breath against his skin. “Is he okay, Priel?” Ull’s voice briefly drew Priel’s attention from his study. That the demon had used Priel’s proper name was indicative of the concern he felt. “He’s fine, Ull. Let me see if this helps.” Using just the tips of two fingers, the angel touched the scar. “I can sense the strange tingling. Let me see if I can soothe it away.” He moved back a step and looked at Matteo. “It worked.” Matteo smiled. He touched the scar. “Nothing.” “Good.” Priel smiled. “Now exchange that sweater for a nice shirt and then we can go.” Matteo positively basked in Priel’s smile and then hurried to obey.