Runaway Devil
27

It had been quite a while since Karau left Hell. It had been a couple of years since she was threatened by the ones she served, and they tried to have her killed. She had fought for them, she bled for them, the thought of their ignorance made my blood boil.

But, the resistance she sparked still raged on. Not only was the great war still being fought, but a war on our home soil was just as bloody, just as taxing. Us Elites took to the head of it, we lead our soldiers into battle against the council and their men. The great war, between demon and angel kind, had gone on long enough. The ones that were tired of fighting and dying for a council that did not care about them, followed us.

But, it took a dark turn after Tanodath was taken. He sacrificed himself on that field, so we could keep our soldiers safe, so we could keep ourselves safe. Igoth ran onto the rain-soaked battlefield that day, reaching for him, desperately reaching. But she was too late. She was reaching for a body that was no longer our Tan. She was close enough to see his light burn out. She caught his body in her muscled, scarred arms. We all stopped breathing.

The pain was acute, we could all feel it piercing through our hearts as if the arrow that killed Tan killed us all. The silence was deafening for a moment, even the rain seemed to still in the thick air around us. Igoth's mournful roar turned into one of pure, unadulterated rage. She set Tan down in the sloshing mud, rising with murder in her eyes. Thalmol and I ran to meet her at the front. We single-handedly finished that battle, our rage and grief spurring us on. Our soldiers stood back in awe and possibly in horror. They watched us make the sodden fields flood with blood. There was no plan, no organization. We slaughtered them, ripped them apart with our teeth, tore their bodies to shreds.

Tanodath was taken from us, same as Karau, my Karau. After Tan, our spirits turned hard. Our eyes collectively lost any light they once held. I would lay awake at night, my hand grasping at the sheets she was once wrapped in, now cold with her absence. I couldn't stand to look at anything that reminded me of her. My heart ached painfully in my chest, it took my breath away. I would only let the tears out at night, alone, grasping the edges of the counter we would share breakfast on. I held her pillow, desperate for just the slightest scent of her, suffocated by my rage. My whole shook with my frustration, my longing, my grief. Not even my hound, Stella, could comfort me. My soul had been torn in two, and it was irreparable without my Karau.

Igoth, Thalmol, and I could only talk about battle plans, anything else was too painful. Our family was split up, it was deteriorating. And the thought of Karau alone, in a place where I couldn't reach her, was tearing me apart. They could see it in me, they were worried about me. I was more aggressive than usual, I was snapping at people, threatening our own soldiers. They were the ones on our side, they trusted us with their lives. They were blindly loyal, just as they were to the council. That had its own dangers that we didn't want to think about too closely.

Thalmol had placed his heavy hand on my shoulder one evening, we were about to turn in for the night. I looked to Igoth, she was already starring at me. I looked from her to Thalmol questioningly. "You need to go, Jareth," he said. The voice that was once light and joking, that made us all laugh at the most inappropriate times, was heavy and tired. I had a moment of clarity, a moment of sorrowful clarity. We had changed, and not for the better. "Look for her. Bring her home, to us. She can fight with us now. They're after all of us, not just her anymore."

My lips parted, maybe to protest, maybe to thank them. I couldn't find the right words to say. So I closed my mouth and nodded. Stella was sleeping restlessly on my bed in the other room, her snores sounding like chuffing growls. I looked to it, debating what to do with her. Igoth rolled her eyes. "I'll take care of her. She's like our mascot now, we couldn't let you take her up there." Stella had been at my side since I was Karau's age. Just as she had grown up with Balan, I grew up with Stella. I nodded and swallowed against the tenseness in my throat.

I held my hand out and Thalmol grasped my forearm, embracing each other. Igoth and I did the same, parting ways and sending reassuring energy to each other. Everything was going to be okay. I was going to get Karau, and bring her home.

The next morning I was disoriented and my mind was blurry. My head pounded, it felt like something was trying to break out of my skull, banging their fists on my frontal bone. I was laying next to my bed and the course carpet felt scratchy on my skin. Balan had his chin resting on my thigh, waiting for me to wake up. He lifted his head and looked at me with sad eyes.

I sat up and took a deep breath. Cradling Balan's massive head, I kissed the spot between his eyes. "Good morning." I rested my cheek on his head for a moment before getting up. I stretched, feeling my back pop. A strange itching pressure wouldn't release in my back. I stretched it a few more times, bending into awkward positions to try and get rid of it. It felt like the irritation was under my skin.

Wait, I hadn't let my wings out in a while. They were trapped under the surface, they probably needed a good stretch. I slipped my t-shirt off and dug through my dresser drawers. I found the training shirt that I had on when I left Hell. It was designed to accommodate wings of all kinds and give the person wearing it maximum mobility. I slipped it on and let them rise up, preparing them to come out. Since I hadn't released in a while, they punched through the glamour aggressively. It felt like a satisfying pop of a stubborn knuckle.

I heard a clamor behind me, objects falling and rolling over the floor, and I cringed before I turned around. My bedside table was on its side, everything on it was all over the floor and the poor lamp was cracked, some pieces of it littering the floor. Balan looked at the mess and then back to me. "Oh, hush, they were excited."

A flash of fear from last night still lingered. I took a deep breath and shooed it away. Now that I was calm, after finally getting some restful sleep, I remembered where my weapons were around the apartment. I couldn't think of where I had put my gun. But, I was out of that sea of panic and my mind was functioning normally. Well, as normally as it could.

I opened my closet and reached just to the left of the door. I was there, taped to the wall. I smiled and grabbed it. Its weight was comfortable in my hands, and even more comfortable tucked into my waistband.

I walked down the hall to find the angel in my kitchen, reading a newspaper, and drinking a cup of fresh coffee. "Good morning dear, how did you sleep? I heard there's going to be a doozy of a storm this afternoon." I thought to myself in the voice of a 1950's father figure. I raised my brow at him.

He looked at me over the rim of his mug. He placed it on the table and looked at me for a moment. "Morning." I nodded and hummed a reply. "Letting them breathe today?" He was looking back at his newspaper. It took me a moment to realize he was talking about my wings.

"Oh, yeah. Where'd you get the paper?"

"There's a house a couple streets over that bothers to get the newspaper. But they won't be reading it this morning." I fought the smile that threatened to bloom on my face.

"The angel stole someone's paper?" It was very counterculture. He looked at me with the whisper of a smile on his rough face.

"I'm one of the bad ones." I turned so he couldn't see my smile, and poured myself a cup of coffee, and slipped a cigarette between my upturned lips.

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