The Bound Angel (Sacrilege Rising: Book 1)

Mike was swaying from side to side. Something was pressing into his shoulder. “Mmph,” he mumbled as his head rolled on a hard surface. “Not yet.” Something was wrong. He tasted smoke.

“You must wake up,” a nearby voice said. It was high and clear. He’d heard it before, but where? The image of a woman wavered in his mind. Blonde and tan with a long braid draped over her shoulder. She was kneeling. Why was she kneeling? Thoughts came faster than he could process. Warriors in gold. Elijah. The goddess in black. The blonde woman holding the sun in her hand. Fire in the church.

Mike’s eyes snapped open. He woke up in hell.

Sheets of flame were rolling across the ceiling while the walls smoldered with dark heat and glowing embers. Smoke hung thick in the air, turning every breath into a coughing fit. The world was distorted in a shimmering haze, like looking over asphalt on a hot summer day. The church’s heavy front doors were warped from the wall of flame cascading from floor to ceiling.

There was no way out. This was where he would die.

“Michael,” the voice repeated. He looked up to see a woman’s face. She was lovely. Shimmering blonde hair hung in a braid over one shoulder, and her eyes were blue like the sky on the first day of spring. She shook him again. Panic set back in and he sat up. He tried to take a deep breath and coughed so hard he wretched. What were they supposed to do?

“We leave.”

Had he asked that out loud without meaning to? He croaked, “Where? How?”

“Through the front door.” The woman pulled him to his feet with as much effort as it took to lift a bag of groceries.

They met each other’s gaze in a moment of understanding. Then her smile touched her eyes, and his fear melted away. “Have faith,” she said, and turned to the door, still holding his hand.

She nodded, then sprang forward, instantly hitting top speed, and it felt like his arm was tearing from it socket. He was jerked into an awkward sprint as the woman hurtled toward the door and he scrambled to keep up. At the last moment, she lowered her shoulder and braced for impact. The collision sent a tremor through their joined hands. Metal squealed and wood crunched. Then they were through.

Several things hit all at once.

First, the air. The fresh, cool, clean air. Mike breathed deeply for the first time in what felt like hours, lightheaded from unconsciously taking shallow gasps inside.

Second, the darkness. The world outside was seared with the after image of fire. Even the heavy smoke couldn’t dull the flames. It had surrounded him, consuming his entire field of vision with rolling sheets of flame. And in an instant, it was gone. It was jarring, like stepping onto a plane in the middle of the day and arriving at your destination to find it night.

Third, the quiet. Burning buildings were loud. The splintering of collapsing timber, the rushing in your ears from your pounding heart, the ever-present crackling of smoldering wood. It was much louder than the city noise he was used to tuning out and added another layer to the fear that made it hard to think. Maybe quiet wasn’t so bad after all.

He was okay. He wouldn’t die. That was, unless the church fell on top of them, but it was best not to think about that. Instead, he rested on the sidewalk with his hands on his knees and focused on breathing. The panic began to fade, and clarity slowly returned.

A siren wailed in the distance.

“We must go,” the woman said.

The siren grew louder and was joined by a second.

He asked, “Why? Shouldn’t we stay to fill out a report or something? Someone should know what happened.”

She looked him in the eye and asked, “What, exactly, did happen?”

He waved at the burning church and spluttered, “I don’t know. Something.”

When the corner of the woman’s lip curled, Mike resolved to try to make that happen again. She was trying not to laugh. “You are more familiar with the mortal authorities than I, but it is unlikely your story will have the effect you believe.”

He sighed, then remembered what happened inside.

The woman in black. Golden warriors appearing by lightning to fight hooded assassins. The blonde woman, who now stood not two feet from him, holding a glowing orb. He took a step back. “Who are you?”

She tilted her head. “That is a more complicated question than you know. This is not the place to discuss it. We must go.”

More sirens had joined in and were getting louder, their wailing pitches rising and falling like wolves howling to the moon.

“Where do we go? Are you going to…?” He made a vague gesture to the sky.

She followed his hand and looked up at the stars. “I… do not know. I think not. For now, at least. Where is your home? We will go there.”

To his apartment? With her? He suddenly wished he’d cleaned before he left for the church. “Why there? Won’t people, you know, see you? Is it a problem if they do?”

“Michael,” she answered, facing him directly. “We can discuss your questions on the way, but we must not linger here longer than we have already.”

He could protest more, but that seemed like a losing battle. Taking one last look at the church, he said, “Okay,” and they started to walk.

The fire behind them cast the sidewalk in a flickering orange glow. When he’d arrived at the church it was warm and sunny, but now the temperature was quickly dropping. The woman’s armor left her arms and shoulders bare, and her legs from the bottom of her gilded skirt to the top of her boots. He wondered if she could get cold.

“This city…” she began, glancing around, snapping him out of his wandering thoughts. “Baltimore? Maryland?”

He nodded.

She asked, “Have you lived here long?”

Were they really going to small talk? Then again, there wasn’t anything else to do, and he had his own questions. “My whole life,” he answered. He thought for a moment. “How did you know my name?”

She smirked. “After all that has happened tonight, that is the first thing you wish to know?

Mike shrugged. “As good a place to start as any.”

“Very well. I can… sense… certain things about the people around me. Thoughts, feelings, emotions. Though it is not always clear. Human minds and hearts can be fickle.” Something passed over her face. “I apologize if that was inconsiderate.”

“And you sensed my name?”

“Yes.”

Nobody called him by his full name, but it wasn’t so bad when she said it. “And what’s yours? Your name, I mean.” Why was he nervous all of the sudden?

“You may call me Lana.”

“Lana,” he repeated. “That’s a nice name.”

That’s a nice name? Who talks like that?

“Thank you.” Her smile gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling that banished the chill.

They turned onto his street. Only a few more blocks to go. The church was out of sight now and the orange glow was gone, like the chaos hadn’t happened at all. The storm had moved on but the night was still dark, only interrupted by pockets of light where streetlamps stood sentinel. The ones that still worked, anyway.

Mike asked, “Why did we need to leave the church?”

She hesitated before answering. “That place held darkness this night. Darkness the Host could not see. Others may have been watching, waiting for the fallout, ready to pounce at the right opportunity. Creatures of the night seldom challenge boldly, and seldom challenge alone. Their kind prefers to strike at weakness, or when there are scraps to feast on. Your walk home is safer with me by your side.”

Creatures of the night. That wasn’t creepy or anything. Beautiful blonde women walking at night in the city usually wouldn’t make him feel any safer, but just now, she did.

“So you’ll head out then? Once I get home?” He couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.

She paused again before answering, “I do not believe so.” She fingered the silver loop on the collar at her throat. It caught the light from the streetlamp overhead.

He stopped in his tracks. “What is that? She was wearing that.” He started backing away. “What’s happening? Who are you?”

Lana raised her hands in a calming gesture. “Peace, Michael.”

The pleading tone in her voice kept him from running the other way. But he stayed tense, ready to bolt if need be, mentally mapping out an escape route.

“I do not yet have the full picture of what occurred tonight, but I believe the spell may have… rebounded, in the face of the demon’s attack. The binding was achieved, though not as intended.”

“What do you mean? What binding?”

She looked conflicted. “There is much you do not know. It is difficult to explain without context. The Host planned to bind the demon, to capture her and bring her to judgement. But when the spell was triggered, there were no others left alive but you and I, and it seems to have settled on us.” She trailed off at the look on his face.

He spoke slowly. “And what, exactly, does that mean, ‘settled on us?’”

She looked toward the direction they were heading and said in a small voice, “I cannot flee from you.”

Flee from him? Why would she… Realization hit him like a truck. ‘We are also here to bind you’, Elijah had said. ‘Shackle this creature of the night. Bind her to the will of her holder.’ Lana herself spoke those words back in the church.

Mike said, “No.”

“I cannot lie to you.”

He held up his hands. “You can stop right there.”

“I cannot cause you harm.”

“Nope. No thank you.” He started backing away. Her face softened as she watched him, and she fingered the collar around her neck.

“It is not what either of us intended,” she continued. “This was not meant for you and I, but we must all bear the burdens that fall to us. We will persevere until the time comes when we find a way to remove the spell.”

“How long will that take?”

“I do not know.”

“It was your spell! I saw you holding that orb! How can you not know?”

“It was not meant for us,” she repeated. “Specifically, it was not meant for you, a mortal. I do not know what will happen to you if it is removed by force. You may die, and should you fall, I do not know what will happen to me.” She held out her hand. “We should not linger.”

Mike stared at her while he tried to collect his thoughts. The whole night was a whirlwind. It was too much, too fast. His head was spinning. Were there hidden cameras somewhere? The church really was on fire though. He could still see smoke rising over the buildings. People really did die in there. He almost died in there.

But then he looked at Lana, and the pleading in her eyes, and the black band around her throat. He accepted her hand. What else could he do?

“I’m sorry. Your friends seemed like good people, or, whatever.”

She nodded and said simply, “Thank you.”

The clouds were gone. Now the sidewalk was lit by pale moonlight, reminding him of painting in the church. He thought of the woman in black, and her terrifying sensuality.

“I heard you call that woman a demon,” he said quietly. “What does that mean?” He looked over her golden armor. “And what does that make you?”

Lana hesitated before answering. “There are things mortals are not meant to know. Things that may damage you. It is called faith for a reason.” She touched the collar again. “I ask that you not compel me to answer your questions. I am bound to your will, and while I do not know the full extent of what that means, should you press it, I feel I could not deny you.”

There were things he wasn’t meant to know. But here was a real life… what? Angel? Holding his hand, walking down the streets of his city. Did that mean it was all real? God and Satan? Heaven and Hell?

“I don’t know what that means,” he nodded to the collar, “at all, really. But I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable or… damages me.”

Lana nodded soberly. “Thank you.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was no urge to fill the empty space, no fear that saying nothing meant they had nothing to say. Though they’d just met, it was the relaxed silence between old friends as they passed by his elementary school. The new playground was brightly colored plastic with rounded corners everywhere. Mike remembered when it had metal slides and monkey bars with jagged edges waiting to catch a misplaced hand.

They walked by the old bakery, the only building around with lights on. There was nothing better than waking up to the smell of fresh bread. He’d walked these streets a hundred times, and as they passed familiar sights, his head began to clear. Maybe he’d imagined the worst parts of the evening. Yes, there really was a fight and the church really was on fire. But that didn’t have to mean there were angels and demons or heaven and hell. People got into fights. Accidents happened.

He glanced at Lana and found her watching him with a little smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. Mike forgot they were holding hands until she tensed. His apartment building loomed just ahead. The door opened and someone stepped outside. Lana stopped.

“Are you okay? Is it a problem if someone sees you?”

“I am…” she began, but stopped. Her face clenched in concentration.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was going to say I am fine, but that is not strictly true,” she scowled, touching the collar again. “This may be more inconvenient than I imagined.” Her eyes closed and her body relaxed. She mumbled something under her breath. Then she doubled over and grabbed his shoulder for support.

“Whoa! What was that? What just happened?”

“There,” Lana said through gritted teeth. She still held his shoulder, but was able to stand a little straighter. “When he looks at us, he will see only you. That should not have taken such effort. We must be quick.”

Mike didn’t press any further, and they made it inside with her arm over his shoulder. It felt nice to hold Lana close, even if her armor was digging into his ribs.

His one-bedroom apartment was standard for a college student. Which meant it was tiny. It made the dirty dishes and dingy furniture look worse. As soon as he helped Lana into the couch and let go of her, his nerves began to return. It was like the sun had disappeared behind the clouds, stealing warmth on a chilly day. He tried to look casual while cleaning up, embarrassed for her to see the place as it was.

“Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?” He looked through the fridge, then hesitated. “Do you?”

Her face was carefully neutral. “Do I what?”

“You know. Do you,” he lowered his voice, “eat?”

“We are the only ones here. Why do you whisper?” The glimmer of a smile made it clear she was enjoying herself.

Mike sputtered, “I don’t know. You’re…” he gestured at her wildly, “you. You just fought an actual demon and charged through a flaming door and hid yourself from that guy out there. What am I supposed to-”

“Yes, I eat,” she interrupted, her smile sunning her face. “But I am not hungry just now, thank you. Water would be appreciated though.”

Mike handed her a bottle from the fridge, then stood there awkwardly as she drank. Her chin was raised, and he found himself staring at the smooth skin under the collar at her neck. The armor left the top of her chest bare, and-

Enough of that.

“Please. Sit,” Lana said when she was finished, and patted the space next to her on the couch. “What happened tonight was a surprise for many reasons. It did not go as expected. My companions were slain, which is not something to take lightly.” Her eyes were distant. “There is darkness in this city. I can feel it in my bones and taste it in the air. I do not believe this is the end of it. We must be vigilant.”

Mike nodded. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but it seemed like the appropriate response. “Do you think someone will try to get us here?”

They wouldn’t be able to get into the building without a passcode. Then again, Lana just showed that wasn’t a foolproof defense. He eyed the furniture, mentally judging how much it would help propped against the door. Though, after seeing her barrel out of the church without a scratch, he decided if she was afraid of someone then an old couch wouldn’t make much difference.

“No,” she answered. “I do not believe so. While tonight was very much a surprise, in other ways it was by design. The ambush took coordination and planning. We are not easy prey here with so many mortal witnesses.”

Mike nodded. That made sense.

“You don’t seem bothered by our, um, arrangement.”

She looked him in the eye for a long moment. “Should I be?”

“What? No. I mean, like I said, I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But it doesn’t bother you at all? Being bound, whatever that means?”

Lana touched his arm. “You are thoughtful. That is one of the reasons I am not bothered. I also have faith. He works in mysterious ways.” She moved to stand. “Now, I must-” she doubled over and Mike jumped to his feet.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she answered through gritted teeth. “I was about to say I must rest. I am weak. Tonight has taken a toll.”

“Right. Of course.” He wrapped her arm over his shoulder and led her to the bedroom. “I’ll take the couch tonight.”

“I would not wish to be an imposition,” she began.

“Absolutely not. You’re in the bed. I’ll be fine out here.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Michael.”

As he turned to leave, she murmured, “Would you mind assisting me? It will just take a moment.”

She was reaching for a buckle on the back of her armor, but her range of motion was limited.

“Um, sure.”

Mike approached until he stood just inches from her, and the moment suddenly felt intimate. She smelled like fresh flowers. Her blonde hair shone in the dim light. He felt along the armor at her back where she was trying to reach and found the clasp. She moved her hair to the side. When he unclasped the first buckle, the armor shifted. After the second it began to fall away, and his fingers brushed bare skin. She was able to remove the rest of the top herself and let it drop to the floor. A moment later, the golden skirt fell next to the armor, leaving her in a simple white shift.

Lana stood in a glorified nightgown, and Mike couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering, taking in every inch of bare skin. The shift fell just past her hips, and her legs were long and lean and tan. The top wasn’t cut scandalously, but it was effectively pajamas, and his eyes lingered on the valley of soft cleavage. Her skin pebbled under his gaze, and he wondered how soft it would feel in his hands, how smooth it would be to his touch. Her lips parted, glistening in the dim light, and he thought of kissing her.

Then he realized neither of them had moved and he was still in her personal space. He quickly backed away. “Do you,” he coughed. “Did you need anything else?”

She ignored his question, watching him for a moment before quietly asking, “Do I make you uncomfortable?” Her soft blue eyes held his gaze.

“What? No. Why do you ask?”

She glanced down at the tent in his pants, then back up. There was no mocking or amusement in her eyes, just a knowing look.

Mike’s face grew hot and he moved to stand behind his desk. “Right. Um. I think I’m going to go to bed. Er, not bed. Sleep. I think I’ll go to sleep now. It’s been a, um, long day.”

“Very well,” Lana answered, her eyes still on his. “Goodnight then, Michael.”

When he reached the end of the hall, he looked back over his shoulder. Lana was kneeling by the bed. Her head was bowed and her hands folded. But Mike was more focused on how the shift had ridden up, revealing inches of round, tan flesh.

He lingered, staring for longer than was appropriate. Then he tore his eyes away and closed the door. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep thinking of a white shift and tan skin.

Enjoying the story so far? Ratings and comments are the absolute best motivation, and I always love hearing your thoughts. See you in the next chapter!