Darkness Unmasked (Dark Angels 5)

I swore and drew Amaya. Don’t cut or burn the woman’s flesh.

Will not, she replied.

Fire ignited along her blade, the lilac flames bright in the smoky darkness. I used her steel to hack apart the larger chunks of wood, plaster, and metal that lay between me and the receptionist, kicking the smaller bits aside as Amaya’s flames consumed everything else.

From somewhere under the mess came another groan.

“Maggie? Can you hear me?” I shoved Amaya’s tip under a long piece of wood, then thrust it up and back.

There was a pause, then a weak, “Here. Help.”

Something shimmered in the smoky shadows near the door. I tensed, my fingers tightening around Amaya, then realized it was a reaper. She wore the image of an elderly woman and had a kind face and sorrowful blue eyes.

“You can’t have her,” I said fiercely. “She’s not going to die.”

“That is neither your decision nor mine,” the reaper replied softly.

I blinked. None of them had ever talked to me before. None of them except Azriel, anyway.

“That is because you have never spoken directly to any of us before now,” she said, her expression somewhat amused.

“I had no real reason to before now,” I muttered. I grabbed another chunk of wood and threw it away.

A flash of familiar heat across my skin told me Azriel had also appeared. “I thought you weren’t coming in here in flesh form,” he said.

“Yeah, well, you knew it was a lie, so why sound so aggrieved now?” I shoved another piece of wood out of the way. “You could help, you know.”

“I cannot interfere in this one’s life or death, Risa, and you know that.”

“Damn it. I’m not asking you to interfere. I’m just asking you to help me remove some of the rubbish on top of her.”

“I cannot.”

“Well, fuck you both, then!” I raised Amaya and brought her down hard. Her blade hit the desk and, with a resounding crack, split it in two. As her lilac flames began eating into the wood, I raised a foot and kicked half of the desk with all the force I could muster. It tumbled up and back, revealing the bloody and bruised torso of the young receptionist.

I squatted beside her and gently brushed the hair from her eyes. “Maggie? Can you hear me?”

She nodded, though she didn’t open her eyes, and the movement was so weak it might have been imagination on my part.

My gaze slid down her length. Her hips and legs were trapped under the remains of the desk, and the blood I hadn’t seen earlier was there. Everywhere. I bit my lip, then added, “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked, and just for a moment, confusion briefly outshone the pain in her eyes. “You. Changed again.”

I frowned, not sure what she meant. Not even sure if she was seeing me. “Your legs are trapped under the desk, Maggie. I’m going to free you, but it could hurt. Okay?”

She swallowed, then nodded and closed her eyes again. I rose, stepped over her, then, as quickly but as gently as I could, grabbed the edge of the desk and flung it up and over her. She screamed. The sound cut through me, as sharp as a knife, then abruptly stopped.

The reaper stepped forward.

“No,” I said. “Please, don’t.”

“Her decision is made. Her soul moves on.” The elderly reaper’s voice was filled with gentle understanding. “There is nothing you can do for her now.”

“Damn it, no,” I said, and looked down. A soft shimmer rolled over the receptionist’s body; then her soul pulled free. She looked at peace, happy almost. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see her spirit take the reaper’s hand and move on.

Not wanting to acknowledge my failure to yet again save someone.

Another explosion ripped through the building. Above, the ceiling cracked and plaster began to fall, the pieces small at first, then getting gradually larger as the cracks grew and joined.