AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Seraphica, though mostly synthetic, still required blood of an angel, and the task of procuring it was something I was all too familiar with. When I wasn’t reaping souls for the Noxerians, I was betraying my fellow angels by handing them over to be drained, in exchange for my own personal supply. And because I hadn’t technically carried out the slaughter myself, I went unpunished for a number of years. A fact which pissed off Adimus, the leader of the Sentinels, who petitioned the heavens to have me banished to Ex Nihilo after I’d handed over an old friend of his to the Noxerians.
The bastard was the first who’d come to mind when Barchiel had told me one of the Sentinels had made a deal with Drystan, to take Farryn in exchange for safe passage to Nightshade on the night of the blood moon. The night I’d broken their rules and crossed over to the earthly realm, sacrificing my wings.He wouldn’t have gotten far, anyway. The moment Drystan crossed the Vale into Nightshade, I’d have been there, waiting for him.
If any of the Sentinels were so inclined to cross over for Farryn into Nightshade, it’d be Adimus, and if I had to guess, it would be he who’d wanted to impregnate her.A thought that struck a murderous chord in me, and all the more reason I needed to keep my wits.
I needed the drugs.
At the opposite side of the village, I dismounted my horse and tied him to a post outside of a butcher’s shop whose lights were off with it being after hours. Alongside the shop stood a long, skinny door, through which one would have to turn sideways to pass. It wasn’t a particularly noticeable door, just a dirty brown that hardly stood out, where it was wedged between the butcher and apothecary. Tugging my hood up, I gave one furtive glance around, then knocked on the thick, wooden panel where the translucent glimmer of a ward ensured no unwanted visitors were given entry without their heads imploding as a consequence. Seconds passed, then a small square in the center of the door shifted and two eyes peeked out at me through the created window.
“Sangâysh’la cin’tchinez,” I said as a low whisper.Blood of five blades. Five blades referred to the five brothers who ran the joint, and the promise of blood against anyone who ratted them out. With the power of the Noxerians behind them, it certainly wasn’t an idle threat.
The small peeping window slid shut, and at the click of the lock, the door opened on a creak to reveal a tall, skinny man with a gaunt face and black circles under his eyes. The band on his throat told me he was dojzra.
I followed him inside the narrow corridor that opened to a wider passage, dimly lit only by flickering sconces. The sound of feminine moans carried on the air. Though fairly mild when compared to some of the places found in Kilenshire–the neighboring town run by The Fallen–this place had a seedy atmosphere, the kind that crawled over the back of the neck. It was a place of sin and debauchery, where unsuspecting innocence was swiped up and corrupted.
A place I would never bring Farryn.
The path ahead was familiar to me, one I’d walked half-dazed while slipping in and out of blackness. We finally reached a thick, iron door at the end of the hallway, through which we descended a stone stairwell into the bowels of the building.
There, the moans turned to screams. A sickening cold swept over me as distant memories filtered in. The kind I’d hoped to put well behind me, but such was life to bring everything swinging back around like a goddamned wrecking ball. One last door at the bottom of the stairs opened up to an arena, a space which spanned nearly the entire village of Stygian Falls, hidden from the human souls. Nearly every town and village in Nightshade had an underground scene where bad things went down. A sort of Nexus, which linked the ancients in somewhat of an inverse world to the one aboveground.
If the dark web were a physical place, it’d be the underground scene.
The scent of blood and death carried on the air, and something warm tingled across the back of my neck. The form of the man who led me along blurred, turning shadowy and undefined. The surroundings pulled on something inside of me. A force that clawed the back of my ribs for escape. Flickers drew my attention toward a flame dancer at the opposite side of the arena, the orange streaks playing on the air around her, moving in slow motion. I could hear the flame crackle even across the arena. The sound of her breath. My skin crawled.
I came to a halt, and as if sensing it, the gaunt man turned toward me, his eyes quizzical.
Leave. Leave now.
I couldn’t tell who was speaking inside my head–the demon, the voices who’d abandoned me decades ago. Farryn?
It had no feminine or masculine tone, no sense of authority, or supplication. Yet, I couldn’t ignore it.
The heated tingles from before slithered over me, and I lifted my arms to find my skin blackening at my fingertips. Like ink dripping down my hand, the raven tone stretched toward my wrists. A panic settled over me.
I needed seraphica. Immediately.
I kept on, toward the room I’d visited so many times before it’d become a second home. The tall man waved me through a door, and I took the lead into a room where apothecary bottles sat lined on old, crooked shelves, their labels dark and ominous. An aged male, with straggly white hair and spectacles, hobbled toward me, his nails long and yellowing.
“Seraphica,” I said, the bitter sting of the word making me grimace.
“Angels’ blood is illegal, my friend.”
“Don’t fuck with me. You’ve sold it to me before.”
“It’s getting harder to come by. A rare concoction, indeed.”
“I will not leave this place without it.”
The old man looked me up and down and chuckled darkly. “And how do you wish to pay?”
Reaching into my pocket, I kept my gaze on the locked cabinet where I knew he kept the mystical drug and tossed a coin onto the countertop. One well worth his trouble.
“I would ask how you came about this coin.” He clamped his bony fingers over it, sliding it toward the edge of the counter and depositing it into his palm. “But I don’t care. I’ve got one tincture left. I’m afraid that’s all.”
It’d last me no more than a few days, but it was better than nothing. “I’ll take it.”
“Very well.” He twisted away from me and slid open that cabinet, from where he pulled out a small black apothecary jar and handed it over. “I knew you’d be back, by the way. The angels’ blood … it never leaves you entirely.”
