Seals (10 page)

Kara frowned but crept a little closer to
hear more.

“There was no
official
mission,” said
a woman’s voice. “It was the one with the demon wings, the
freak
. No doubt she orchestrated all of this to bring more
attention to herself. She lied to her team and nearly got them all
killed. She’s always been a real problem with the legion. She makes
everyone uneasy. Cathy in Operations told me that she was supposed
to be
terminated
last year.”

“No way,” said one of the men.

Kara’s mood darkened. She clenched her
fists.

“I swear it on the souls,” the woman’s voice
rose with excitement.

“There’s something
foul
about her. I
just know it. She’s corrupted, and she corrupts everyone around
her, like a bad apple. I honestly don’t know why they keep her
around. If it were up to me, I’d get rid of her.”

“Well, it’s not up to you.”

“Her team is going to die because of her,
you just watch,” said the woman.

“If they’re stupid enough to follow that
freak,” said another man’s voice.

“Then they’re stupid enough to die along
with her.” The voices laughed.

“I wouldn’t be sorry if she did die,” the
woman snorted. “We don’t need mutants like that here. She doesn’t
belong in Horizon. They should have left her locked up in Tartarus.
Or better yet…fed her soul to the demons.”

The all laughed as they went past Kara.

She stepped out of the shadows. She wanted
to shout at them, to tell them off. It took every ounce of strength
to keep from dive-bombing the three of them and slapping them
around with her wings. She’d show them how much of a
freak
she was. She had to tell herself that these were ignorant
fools.

But they didn’t appear to know anything
about the seals; otherwise they would have said so. No. It was
clear that her mission was a secret one. She might look like a
freak, but she was important enough to Mr. Patterson, and hopefully
some of the other archangels, to entrust her on this secret and
vital mission.

“Idiots,” she said under her breath.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here,
ladies?”

Kara froze. And then she cursed. Even before
she turned around, she knew who it was. She kept her head hidden in
the shadows of her hood and turned around.

“Kara Nightingale,” said Metatron between
puffs of his cigar. “The one with the mark—or should I say the one
with the
wings
.”

He looked exactly as she had tried hard to
forget. His charcoal-gray suit was a bit tight around the middle,
and his thin, straw-colored hair was drawn back from his receding
hairline. He hid his eyes behind his glasses, but she knew he
watched her with great interest. He was oily, like a gangster lord,
full of false promises, full of criminal resolve and evil
secrets.

His entourage of stunning angel woman in
skin-tight, black leather suits, red high heels, sunglasses, and
bright red lipstick stood in his shadow.

Kara held back a growl.

“Why are you hiding?” he laughed as he
tapped the ashes from his cigar.

“With such a pretty face like yours I’m
surprised you’re not flaunting it around.”

He glanced toward the group of guardians who
had just passed. A knowing smile spread on his lips.

“I wasn’t hiding”

Metatron laughed harder. “But you
are
hiding. But the question is why? And from whom are you hiding?”

The archangel’s laughter only made Kara’s
fury bubble even more. He was a rude and arrogant fool who still
thought it was cool to smoke cigars. She hated him and his stupid
entourage. Their sweet cherry-blossom and vanilla perfume was
giving her a giant headache.

“Leave me alone,” growled Kara. She
remembered who she was speaking to and added, “Please.”

Metatron’s face twitched.

“Remember who you’re speaking to, guardian,”
he warned with a dangerous edge to his voice. “I’m not some
mindless, spineless archangel. I’m your commander, and you’d do
well to remember that.”

Kara wasn’t about to apologize. Maybe if she
ignored him, he’d get bored and walk away.

Metatron
smiled
.

“
Come,
come, Kara.
Aren’t we friends? Of course we are. Let me gaze
upon that pretty face of yours.”

But Kara didn’t budge.

“Come here now,” he ordered. “I won’t say it
again.”

Kara had been caught by the worst archangel
in all Horizon. Why couldn’t it have been Raphael? She cursed
herself for not going with the others.

She took a step forward and kept her head
down. But she knew he was close enough to see the markings on her
face.

“Oh dear,” said Metatron.

Smoke from his cigar billowed into her face.
“It’s worse than I expected. You
have
been busy.”

She raised her head slowly and angrily and
stared into his sunglasses. The entourage gasped, but she ignored
them.

“You know this isn’t my fault. I never asked
for any of this.”

Kara caught her reflection in his sunglasses
and froze for a moment. The shock of the thick, black veins
tattooed on her face was still very fresh. She didn’t like the
monster that stared back at her. She looked away and hid under her
hood.

Metatron took a drag of his cigar. She hated
that she couldn’t see his eyes.

“Maybe not,” he said, and then he was quiet
for a while. “But it’s happened, hasn’t it.”

Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she
knew he was taking in
everything
.

And then Metatron said finally, “Your
transformation seems to be progressing faster than I had
expected.”

“This
complicates
things,” he said to
himself.

What things
? Kara wanted to ask.

“How are you
feeling
?” he asked.

Kara thought that it was an odd question,
coming from him.

“Does it hurt? Are you in any kind of pain?
Do you have a fever?”

“Fever? No. I feel fine.” Kara glared at one
of his entourage who was openly staring and laughing at her.

Metatron took another drag of his cigar. To
her surprise, he blew a butterfly.

“You certainly don’t
look
fine. Such
a pity. You had such a pretty face.”

He was silent again, and Kara had the
feeling that he knew more than he let on.

“I feel fine,” she repeated. She couldn’t
let him remove her from her mission. She needed to save herself, as
well as the world.

“I can still do my job, if that’s what’s
worrying you. Nothing’s changed—”

“Except for those black marks all over you.”
His eyes rolled over her body too long.

Kara controlled her temper. “It doesn’t
affect my skills as a guardian. I’m just as good as I was before,
even better because of the wings. I’m a real asset to the legion
and to my team. My—my
condition
won’t affect my work. I
promise.”

The women snorted at this. She wanted to
slice off their pretty heads.

The archangel gave her a sly smile. “It’s
already affecting your work if you feel the need to hide in the
shadows. You can’t hide your wings anymore, and you certainly can’t
hide your face.”

He flicked his cigar toward her. “You say
that your wings are an asset, so why do you shy away like you’re
ashamed of them?”

“I’m not.” Kara contracted her hands into
fists and concentrated hard to keep the darkness from taking her
over.

Metatron’s smile faded a little.

“Only the guilty shy away from others, those
who do not wish to share their secrets, those who do not want to be
discovered. Tell me. Are you guilty of something, Kara? What
shameful incident have you done that makes you lurk in the
shadows?”

“I haven’t done anything,” she said
coldly.

“Really?” Metatron shared smiles with his
entourage. It made Kara want to vomit.

He turned his attention back to her and took
a long drag from his cigar.

“From where I’m standing, it sure looks like
you’re hiding something. I told you before, I can always tell when
someone is lying…and you, my dear, are lying. It’s all over your
face
.”

Kara flinched.

“I’m
not
lying. I haven’t
done
anything. I’m just standing here waiting for my team. I don’t
recall any laws against lurking in the hallways.”

“A tongue like a razor. I like that. I find
it very charming in someone so young.”

Kara made a face.

“We all have our secrets—though I’m curious
why you’re so jumpy. If I were a fool, I’d say you can keep your
secrets. But I am no fool. And keeping secrets from the legion,
from me, is a capital offense. I could send you straight to
Tartarus without questions or a hearing.”

“Fine,” she spat, before she knew what she
was saying, before she could control her temper. “Send me to your
prison! See if I care. But if you’re so sure I’ve done something
wrong then why haven’t you sent me to Tartarus already?”

She narrowed her eyes, surprised at her
courage or stupidity to be speaking with such impertinence to the
archangel. The darkness was making her mad.

“I’ll tell you. It’s because you’ve got
nothing
. Because I haven’t done anything.”

To her amazement Metatron laughed. “You’re
so feisty and insolent, such anger in that tiny little body. It’s
one of the reasons why I like you so much, and why I haven’t sent
you to Tartarus…yet. It’s because I like you, and I like having you
around. There are not many angels who have the nerve to speak to me
like you just did. In fact I don’t recall it happening for over
three hundred years…and come to think of it, he’s still in
Tartarus.”

Kara’s throat tightened as she remembered
the heart wrenching echoes of lost souls she’d heard during her
stay in the angel prison and wondered if she’d had heard that poor,
forgotten angel’s cry. How could Metatron forget an angel for three
hundred years in that despicable place? It only made her hate him
more. Why would the legion appoint such a ruthless, uncaring
commander? It was crazy.

Metatron smiled at her grimace.

“I admire a guardian who’s not afraid to
speak her mind. It sets you apart. But like I said, not always in a
good way. Lucky for you, I find you amusing.”

“Wonderful.” Kara stepped back into the
shadow of the corridor and fought back the scream that she held
inside her. If he did anything to prevent her from becoming a
normal angel again, she’d feed him his cigar.

“Amusing, yes, but also significant.”
Metatron sidled closer to her and brushed her wings with his
fingers. Her skin crawled at his nearness, but she didn’t move an
inch.

“Truly, your wings are remarkable,”
continued the archangel. “But these…these veins tell a different
story, don’t they?”

Kara was restless, but at the same time
remarkably still. Was he aware of the darkness that brewed inside
her? How much did Mr. Patterson and the oracles tell the legion
about what they saw in her future?

Perhaps he didn’t know…not yet.

“What is their purpose?” he asked sweetly,
standing too close to her. His breath was like an ashtray. “Why are
they there at all? Are they trying to tell us something? What does
it all mean?”

Kara’s brows knotted. “Your guess is as good
as mine.”

She wouldn’t tell
him
anything. He
would have to beat it out of her.
God, why can’t he just go
away?

Metatron watched her in silence for a
moment.

“Well, I’m sure whatever they are they will
reveal their mystery soon enough. They don’t seem to pose any kind
of threat that I can see…for the moment. Either way, I’ve allowed
you to stay in the legion until we discover more about these
dreadful marks.”

“Thanks, I’m sure.”

Something shifted in the reflection of
Metatron’s glasses, his smile flattened. “You are remarkably
ungrateful
.”

That was too much.

“Ungrateful? I’m
ungrateful!
”

Now she was yelling. “After everything
that’s happened to me? Over and over and over again without being
able to stop it, without being able to say no! I’ve never asked to
have elemental power! I’ve never asked for these wings…these marks.
I’ve never even asked to be an
angel
. It just happened, and
I had no say in it. And was I ungrateful for all of this? For all
these things that keep happening to me? No. I’ve always only shown
my appreciation and my devotion to the cause because I believe in
it. Even if it doesn’t believe in me. I’ve always been grateful. I
do my job to the best of my ability, and I’ve saved countless
mortal and angel lives. If that’s ungrateful, then shoot me.”

Kara shook with rage. She’d carried these
feelings with her for so long, and now they had exploded out of
her. Her only regret was that she had unleashed them on Metatron,
the one who really could send her away forever.

The female entourages’ smiles had
disappeared completely. Their pretty faces looked stunned. They
watched Metatron and waited. No one moved. No one said a word. The
fact that they weren’t laughing at her sudden outburst was an
answer in itself—she had gone too far. Metatron would never let
this go, especially in front of his groupies. He would punish her
severely.

Kara braced herself.

He tapped the ashes from his cigar.

“Well, someone forgot to take their happy
pills this morning.” He stared at her sullenly. “I’m feeling
generous today, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of this
juvenile tantrum. Because, that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A
tantrum, brought on by stress, no doubt.”

When Kara realized he was waiting for her to
answer, she said, “Yes, yes I guess you’re right. I should be
grateful to you.”