Falter (36 page)

“Oh, nothing much really. Its mouth moved, but I couldn’t understand a single word it said. I only heard what sounded like wordless music playing in my head. Then it handed me this.” Her knobby fingers reached toward an empty section. Whatever book she intended to show me was missing. “Oh, my. Well...it
was
here.” I watched as she frantically searched the titles to see if the book was misplaced. “I never let anyone check these out because they are so old.” Her wrinkled brow deepened, panic sparking in her eyes. “Nevaeh, I’m not sure what happened to it.”

“It’s okay, Margie. No big deal.” I assured her, but it was a big deal. What if it held the answers I’d been looking for? I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled. It wasn’t her fault the book disappeared, nor was it her responsibility to be involved in this anymore than she had to.
 

“But…but I feel like it was the one I was supposed to show you. I’m not sure why, but it was important to you for some reason.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I…I just know I was supposed to show you that one book.” She nervously tugged at her sweater, crossing it tight over her chest like she was trying to hide her suddenly naked body. Her glossy eyes flicked back and forth over the shelves.

Why was she getting so upset over this? She didn’t have any clue as to what was really happening. Did she? “Do you remember what the title was? Maybe we can see if it’s at another library.”

She stared through me in thought, her thin eyebrows pinching together. “The binding was smooth, red velvet with silver lettering on the front.” She continued with absolute certainty as if trying to convince herself that she’d really seen it—that it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. “This book was different. It was special. The knowledge it held radiated from the pages like sunbeams. There were secrets in that book. Secrets only meant for you. It vibrated with them,” she said softly, her words fading as she became lost in the memory. Her eyes darted down to the floor while she roughly massaged her forehead.

My heart sank to my stomach. “Margie, how do you know you were supposed to show
me
that book? Why not anyone else?”

“I don’t know how, I just know,” she answered, pulling a crumpled tissue from her pocket and dabbing tears off her cheeks.

“Why didn’t you give this to me when you saw the angel?” My words sounded harsher than I’d meant.

She blinked a few times, confused by my question. “Honestly, Nevaeh, I’m not sure. It’s as if everything has been wiped from my memory save for a few fragments. Just enough to know that this could be disastrous.”

Disastrous? What the hell did this book have in it?
 

“Do you remember what the angel looked like?”
 

“I can’t remember. I can picture the being, but not any specific features. It’s just a jumble of faces all at once. I’m so sorry, Nevaeh.” A short groan escaped her lips as she tried her damnedest to hold back a deluge of sobs.

“No, I’m sorry.” This stupid curse had touched even those who are distant in my life. I smoothed out the wrinkles on her sleeves and hugged her reassuringly. “It’s fine. I’ll just search these books.” I said, hiding the concern underlying my words.

Before I could say anything else, Margie raced past me and disappeared beyond the end of the aisle. I pushed aside the frustration and slid a book off of the shelf next to me, impatiently thumbing through the pages as soon as I opened the cover. I shoved the useless book back in its spot and yanked out another, searching for one that might reveal some sort of secret that would instantly speak to me.
 

Bits and pieces of information about the different kinds of angels and their duties filled the pages. Drawings of humans morphing into demons illustrated others. This was all very informative, but it wasn’t what I was looking for.
 

I leaned against the shelf behind me and sighed. Margie’s reaction replayed in my head. Who—or what—did she see? Two angels came to mind, but realistically there were likely more heavenly beings than I could count. I couldn’t assume it was Malach or Archard.

A dreadful thud from the lobby echoed through the shelves.

“Margie?” A sinking feeling knotted in my stomach. “Margie?” She didn’t answer.

Sprinting between the bookcases, I feared something bad would be waiting when I found her. My heart pounded heavier and faster as I neared the front of the building. Sour bile rose to my throat, and I recognized the symptom well by now. A demon was near.
 

I rounded the last corner leading to the lobby, bracing myself for what I might find. Pungent air choked the breath from me. My feet stopped abruptly the second I saw her, causing my shoes to squeak against the smooth floor. I gasped in shock, covering my open mouth with a trembling hand. The sad sight of Margie lying on the crimson splashed marble floor scarred my cheerful memories of her for life. She lay motionless and damaged, coughing on her own blood, looking at me through lightless eyes. The sweet, carefree woman she used to be was diminishing fast.
 

The steady patter of something dripping on the floor pulled my eyes upward to the loft banister above us. Red smeared along the railing, beading into little droplets of life that plummeted next to Margie’s dying body.
 

She must have fallen
, I thought, glancing back at Margie.
 

Then, I saw the monster skittering down the stairs. It had pushed her over the railing.
 

An Animus demon crept over from the bottom step, crouching on its haunches beside my librarian. It wasn’t taking her soul, but clutching onto something in Margie’s right hand. Rotted talons ripped and scratched at her flesh as it struggled to pull the object from her grasp. Somehow her frail, arthritic hand kept a determined grip on whatever it was.

“Nevaeh, it stole it before I could give it to you…I tried to get it back,” she gurgled, death overpowering her life.
 

“I’m so sorry,” I cried to Margie, hoping that she would forgive me.

The muscles in her agonized face relaxed, and her eyes went blank. With her last breath, she released the object.
 

The demon scrambled backwards, clenching onto what it had stolen from Margie. The monster stopped to watch my movement, glaring at me with deep, dark orbs. It didn’t appear to be scared, but rather curious about me.

The more I looked into its horrid eyes, the more I felt a burning inside. The demon’s gaze was like acid to my soul. I averted my attention from the monster’s stare and found what Margie had died for. The object had a reddish sheen to it, but I couldn’t tell if it was blood or something else. The monster hid the treasure within long, boney fingers, grasping it as if life depended on it.

“I’m tired of your games,” I yelled, surprised by the confidence I suddenly acquired. That wasn’t so bad. I could stand up to this evil fiend. I’d seen it before and knew what this monster was about. But why did he want the object? Why didn’t it steal Margie’s soul like they’d done to George?
 

“Give it to me.” I held out my hand and eased toward it.

If I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn it laughed at me from that hideous, mouthless face. The wall behind it began to shimmer and waver in solidity, like fumes in a hot desert. Streaks of red-hot electricity bolted from the wall. That ever-growing pull to the darkness called to me.
 

“Oh, no you don’t!”
 

The demon’s atrophied muscles twitched with anticipation. Energy hummed from the shimmering wall, beckoning to the demon as it did me. The portal begged me to enter.
 

“Don’t do it,” I commanded the demon.

Dammit, the demon was definitely going to do it. It slowly retreated backwards, keeping its gaze fixed on me. Was it testing me—teasing me? Did it want me to chase after it?

A white, crackling bolt whipped out from the opening and illuminated the object in the monster’s hands. It was a book.
The
book. Erratic sparks of light shined along the deep, red velvet binding. The fiend hugged the book close and sped up its retreat toward the wall.
 

I leaped for the Animus without thinking. My stomach cramped in excruciating pain. My skin singed from the inside out. That tell-tale taste of stomach juices leaked into my mouth, letting me know I’d ventured too close to Hell’s danger.
 

I locked onto the demon’s leg. Bits of rotted flesh slid like jelly beneath the pressure of my fingers and peeled off the monster’s muscles. “I’m not letting go, you bastard. I’ll latch onto bare bone if I have to.” I tightened my grip, digging my nails into rubbery strands of tendons on its ankle.
 

The demon arched into the air and screeched.
 

Oh, so it does feel pain,
I silently mused as the monster dragged my agonized, frozen body into the portal behind it.

This journey into Hell seemed more painful than the last—maybe because I didn’t pass out. This time I actually begged to be unconscious. My body burned from an inferno within that was unreachable and unstoppable. Blood boiled in my veins, threatening to melt the very fibers of my being.
 

Time seemed to stop while we traveled the space between Earth and Hell. Willowy black figures reached their desperate hands out of the darkness and tugged at my legs, screaming for redemption. I held onto the Animus and ignored the wretched spirits.
 

Every surface, even the air, felt like saw blades shearing my skin. The demon screeched, hefting me along with each slow step. It never once tried to detach me. It wanted me to ride along into the hopeless pit of Hell.

Finally, after an unfathomable time lapse, a humid orange glow brightened the space around us.
 

We had crossed the threshold.
 

The limping demon halted and scowled down at me. My pain subsided to a dull sting; at least until a blow to my ribs stole the breath from my lungs. I grunted and coughed from the pain, curling into a ball on the ground, but I kept a tight grip on the demon’s leg. It lifted its free leg and positioned it over my head in anticipation of smashing my face in. As it thrust its foot downward, I quickly rolled out of the way, keeping my hands clasped around its other ankle.
 

I gulped back the nausea and yanked on the putrid limb as hard as I could. Brittle bone grinded against brittle bone. The creature fell to its knees, squealing.
 

The book, where is it?
 

I pushed myself up and searched the ground. Under a mound of chalky, yellow dirt, I was able to see the faint sheen of red velvet.
 

I dealt the demon one good kick in its rigid spine and dove for the book. Clouds of the yellow, sulfuric dust puffed up from the ground, sticking to my face and eyelashes, shielding my view. I gasped uncontrollably, my nose and lungs coated in the foul smelling granules. I was winded, blinded, and disoriented.
 

That was a stupid move, Nev. No more leaping for anything in this sulfur pit.

The bastard grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled up, lifting me high off the ground, leaving my feet to dangle in the air. My scalp stung with a sharp, ripping sensation. I sunk my fingers into the demon’s wrist, struggling to lessen the tension on my head.

Another high-pitched squeal sounded from the demon’s head. Swinging from my hair, I kicked and punched at the monster. Distant screeches reverberated against the rocks, answering my monster’s call. My chest tightened and my heart skipped when I realized they were getting closer.
 

What have I done?
 

“LET ME GO!” I yelled at the fiend, tugging against its grip. Its large hand swung around and punched me in the face, catching me off guard. My fingers pressed against the stinging spot on my cheek bone. The scenery around me became blurry, my head swimming from the impact.
 

Oh no, don’t pass out, don’t pass out
.
 

My equilibrium teetered back and forth, keeping me guessing at which way was up and which was down. Black spots speckled my vision.
 

Oh, no
.

Heavy steps skittered toward us, then alarming screeches rang in my ears.

This is it
.
 

My body gave up and hung limp from the demon’s vise-like hands.
 

The sudden smell of ash filled my nostrils. I fell to the ground with a thud. My legs ached from the crash, but my scalp praised the release. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw the demon lying beside me, black orbs staring into mine. Its gaze was hollow now. No evil, no dread—nothing. It was completely vacant.
 

“Come on!” A nervous voice yelled from above me.
 

The awful odor of burning flesh triggered my nausea, again.
 

“Get up! You have to get out of here!” Strong, steady arms raised me off the ground, cradling my body against a heaving chest. “Nevaeh?” The man kept saying my name, trying to wake me from the fog. My head throbbed more and more as he set into a jog. “Nevaeh, you’ve got to wake up! You can’t stay here!” My body bobbed limply in his arms as he increased speed.