The Voice Of My Dark Angel Book 1 Angels of the Apocalypse

6: Keep Calm

He made me no promises. That was the first thing he said. That if I truly wanted to look for my sister without waiting, he could not guarantee my safety.

That, and I would have to accept his Mark.

“Is this going to hurt?” I asked, baring my shoulder to him.

“Yes. Probably. Even the most willing of recipients find there is some pain. And you.. Are not what I would call willing,” Stolas commented tonelessly.

“That’s not true! I’ll do anything to find my sister!” I protested. Stolas gripped my upper arms gently from behind.

“But that doesn’t make you a willing Bearer of my Mark.” Stolas murmured softly, silencing me. His breath brushed over my skin. “Are you ready?” He asked quietly.

“Y-yes.” I mumbled. Stolas moved closer and I felt him lean over me like an ominous shadow.

“Relax.” He murmured. With his lips brushing my flesh and his silky voice purring right next to my ear, I gave an involuntary shudder. He kissed my shoulder, and I jolted.

“With this Mark, I Bind thy soul to mine..” Stolas began, and I heard nothing more as the pain spread like fire through my veins from the place Stolas’ lips had touched. I screamed and jerked forward, trying to escape, but he held me fast, and held me up when my legs gave out. He was right. I wasn’t willing. I fought it every step of the way. I didn’t belong to anyone! And the fire raged all the hotter inside me for it, twisting around within me and tugging at my insides like it was hollowing me out.

“It’s.. done.” Even Stolas seemed out of breath as the last embers of pain burned out inside me. He sank to the ground with me in his arms, face buried in my neck, inhaling deeply. “You’re mine.” It should have terrified me hearing those words in that lovely voice, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was exhausted, and I felt like an empty shell, a mere hollow copy of myself. Eventually, Stolas carried me to his bed and curled around me. Tiredly, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

“When do we leave?” It was some time later. It had been a few days at least. Each night, Stolas carried me to his bed and curled around me like a dragon protecting his treasure.

“Mmm.. as soon as we’re both fully recovered.” Stolas purred above my head. To be honest, I did still feel a bit.. empty.

“It’s just.. I thought we’d go right after,” I muttered.

“And we will. But you want to better our chances, correct? Let me recover my strength. Your will was a lot stronger than I anticipated, even if it made the surrender all the more delicious.” Stolas murmured. His lips brushed my hair slightly, and I almost felt like I could tell he was...smiling. Combined with the seductive voice, it almost sounded like an invitation to s*x. Naughty, dirty, hate-filled s*x. But something about the phrasing bothered me.

“My will?” I pushed back slightly, hands on his chest, to look at him. He hummed.

“It’s in the Ceremony.. ‘Your will is now mine’.” Stolas tugged me back against his chest. I was feeling a growing sense of horror.

“That..that could be taken several ways. What exactly does that mean for me, Stolas?” The panic was pushing at my throat. Was this why I was feeling so empty inside? Had he stolen my willpower? Stolas pulled back slightly to look down at me with a frown.

“Be calm.” He murmured, and I felt my body relaxing. “It means you have surrendered your will to me, as I have just demonstrated. You will find yourself drawn to me, and I to you. You will feel comfort in my presence, and my voice will influence your behavior." The fear that had been suppressed moments before rocketed through my system.

“You made me your slave.” I whispered, horrified. Stolas snarled.

“Not likely. You’re too stubborn for that.” Seeing that my expression had not changed with his half-hearted attempt at humor, Stolas examined me closely. “It’s more that I made you my devotee, or disciple..” He winced at the word. “Perhaps pupil would sound better? Considering how appalling that disciple sounds coming from one who has chosen to defy their homeworld’s decisions and their casual usage of the word.” At my still very angry and confused expression, Stolas sighed.

“I can influence your decisions.” He looked upward as if casting about for an explanation I would understand. Or maybe seeking help he’d never receive. “Think of me.. As the devil on your shoulder.” He grimaced as he said it, but my ‘aha’ moment registered in his eyes. Still though.. The stories about those Demon voices whispering in peoples’ ears, and what they could make people do.. Stolas growled.

“I told you before, I’m not like other Demons.” Stolas ground out, and I gasped.

“You can hear my thoughts?” I recoiled, and this time he let me go.

“The Mark makes it easier, but it’s mostly for communication over distance or when I’m in a non-human form. However, if you are thinking directly of me, then yes, I hear those thoughts. If you project them, and you do. You think loudly. Quite a lot.” Stolas gave me a half-smirk. "It’s actually one of the things I first loved about you. It’s so busy in there, and it’s always so quiet around here..” Stolas examined my face raptly.

“Not really getting any better Stolas!” I squeaked and he reached for me again. I felt my muscles relax as he pulled me against his chest once more.

“Oh come on, it’s kind of cool, right? You can talk to me while I’m an owl? Or a raven? Or if I’m not in the same room or even in the same place as you, you can reach out to me. It means no matter where you are, you can always call me for help. And I’ll always answer.” Stolas’ voice soothed through me like a sedative to my system and I felt myself giving in. Was it my will or his?

“I’m hungry,” I muttered, and Stolas snorted a laugh.

“Then by all means, let me feed my little stubborn-willed acolyte.” Stolas rose gracefully from the bed and tugged me up after him. And for me, the next few days passed in a blink.

‘Up’ The word was less a verbal command than a mental nudging. ‘Up. It’s a good morning for flying.’ This time I could nearly feel a cool beak nudge against my shoulder, and feathers stroke over my body as if a giant bird turned in a nest to walk away, dragging wing and tail feathers over my side. I jolted upright. The room around me was empty, and the light made me think it was just past dawn.

‘I’m outside. Your clothes are at the foot of the bed. Bring the pack beside them too.’ The words stroked against my mind like down. I shuddered. ‘Hurry, I thought you wanted to search for your sister. Let’s be off.’ Stolas almost sounded excited, and I could feel, or sense? The spread of feathered wings in the crisp, cool air. For a moment, I lost myself in the sensation. The anticipation of flight, the breeze playing through feathers, the world stretched out in front of me. It was so.. Freeing. But then I shook myself out of it with a reminder that I was doing this for my sister, and dressed swiftly in the clothes Stolas had provided.

“Stolas, seriously, what’s with this shirt?” I complained, yanking at the swooping neckline that bared my left shoulder to the world. And the top of one breast. I tossed the pack and jacket I was carrying down so I could try to make sure everything ‘important’ was covered up and going to stay put if I moved around.

‘It is to bare your Mark.’ Stolas stated simply, cleaning between his talons. I gaped at him, and for a moment, did a move like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to see what he meant. Stolas’ large owl body heaved a sigh, placing his taloned foot back on the ground. ‘Here..’ He clicked his beak and I noticed a mirrored suncatcher hanging from a tree. I used the reflective pieces to try to catch a glimpse of the mysterious Mark and gasped. A strange looping pattern that looked something like a cross between a circuit board and a puzzle piece someone had tried to make fancy was etched onto, or into my shoulder. Was it scarred? Or like a tattoo? I ran my fingers across it, but felt nothing.

“Are you sure this is safe?” To leave it exposed like this?” I rubbed at it furiously. It wasn’t sore, but its appearance was strange. Like the fire I’d felt burn through me still burned in the Mark. Or like light was seeping out of me through the lines of the symbol. “Oh God, what is that?” I scrubbed more desperately, and a beak nuzzled under my hand.

‘Stop. You’ll only irritate your skin. Only the Marked and Demons can see the shimmer. It’s the energy that Binds us.’ Stolas soothed. ‘If the Mark ever goes dark, either one of us has died, or the Contract has ended.’

“The energy.. You mean like my soul? My soul is hanging out?” My mind raced with panicked thoughts once again. Was that safe? To leave my soul showing? Was it like a wound? Could it get infected? Was I losing bits of myself all over the place?

‘Calm.’ Stolas’ voice instructed, and I felt my heart rate decrease. ‘No one can access your energies but me. Think of it like an invisible umbilicus, if you must. It won’t harm you, and it helps protect you from others of my kind. It also enables you to draw from me just as much as I do from you. We just haven’t had the time to get to any of that yet. Leaving it visible is the best way to ward off others of my kind. However, around humans, you may want to keep it covered.’ There was so much to take in, and so much I still didn’t know. I felt dizzy, and Stolas placed his giant feathered head against my side, helping me remain steady. He gave me a few minutes to try to adjust, and then made a soft hooting noise.

‘Are you ready Char?’ He asked within my thoughts. I twitched. The familiar nickname was a jarring reminder that there were much more important things to worry about.

“Yes.” I replied, digging my fingers into the snowy feathers. “Let’s go.”

Climbing onto Stolas’ back proved to be a daunting task. Even with the strange saddle he had provided, I was wary of pulling feathers and stirring the Demon’s ire. But he scoffed, complaining he was much sturdier than I gave him credit for. I strapped my pack onto my back and followed Stolas’ instructions on attaching the harness and saddle, then strapped down a much larger pack to his back before pulling a chair near him to use as a ladder. He tilted his head at it and made a dismissive noise in his head, but I pointed at the ground and he settled as close to the ground as he could. I clambered onto the chair and then used the harness and saddle to pull myself the rest of the way onto Stolas’ back. I swore I felt feathers pull free, but Stolas never made a sound or movement.

“How do I..” I questioned, bewildered, as I looked at the various buckles and restraints. Stolas chuckled inside my head and guided me through it, straps buckled around my thighs, calves and ankles. Belts circled my waist that also slipped over my shoulders, connecting in a ‘Y’ in the front and back at my waist, which was attached to the saddle like one of those old kid swing restraints with holes in the sides for my legs where the buckles were. It was made in soft leather to my waist, the rest was a tightly woven, thick thread for the straps and belts.

“Damn Stolas.. Overkill much?” I muttered.

‘There are also restraints for your arms, should you need them. I find the harness sufficient, unless you’d rather fall?’ Stolas’ reply was short and clipped, and I half winced, half chuckled at it.

“No thank you.” I mumbled back, though I was tempted to ask how many people he took flying.

‘Alright then. Just a reminder, there will be no chairs for mounting and dismounting on our journey. And if we’re ready? We fly!’ Giving me no more warning than that, Stolas rose, spreading his great wings, leaned forward and shoved off the ground, taking to the air.

I won’t lie, my first instinct was fear. I was flying. On a Demon. Even if he was disguised as a giant bird, which really only made it worse. Because I had nothing but some slim leather straps and wishes and dreams between me and the ground. I got that same adrenaline jolt you get from a roller coaster, and a scream of fear and relief escaped me. Stolas screeched along. And then, the adrenaline surge evened out, and I think Stolas had something to do with that, because suddenly the feeling of air under and around his wings, and the little adjustments he made took over. Not just when he flapped his wings, but the little muscle movements, tiny fanning and readjusting or closing of feathers, the stretching or cupping of his wings. Each fanning and tilting of his tail and the way the feathers moved to adjust the flow of the wind, and thus our direction. So many tiny movements, and yet the overall burst of feeling was simply joy.

Stolas loved flying. And through him, I loved it too. I threw my head back and enjoyed it for a moment, then tucked myself close to his body, knowing I interrupted the airflow by sitting up. He sent a warm feeling in my direction and my heart felt too big for my chest.