Dominion (Re-edition) Page 3

  “Boo.” At the sound of my voice, the angel screamed, so I screamed back at him. “Dude, relax, I just wanted to know what the time is.”

  But he didn’t relax. Instead he started shaking, the awe in his eyes now replaced by fear. “You…” I waited for him to get his words out. “You’re…” he was still stammering. His heart was now pounding, racing faster by the second. He was frozen to the spot, which was sad, really, as it was the one spot he very much didn’t want to be in. He wanted to be in nearly any other spot at that moment.

  I took a step closer. “I’m what?” I asked.

  “You’re…” he moved away from me. “You’re Gideon.” And then he flew into the air, hoping to escape. I flew after him. He had only reached as far as the top of the nearest building before I caught up with him.

  “You know it’s very rude to keep a man waiting for his dinner.” And without warning, I plunged my hand straight into his chest. He screamed, and then he gurgled. My hand found his heart and I grabbed it.

  The sound of his suffering was like music to my ears. “Of course, who am I to talk? Here I am, playing with my food,” I added, and slowly squeezed the heart in my hand. The greater his pain, the stronger I got, and the harder I squeezed. Slowly, the light from his wings started to dim. I watched as he took his last breath, his heart nothing but goo in my hand.

  Because he was on Earth, his physical body disappeared the moment he died. When he’d gone, my hand was dripping with blood, and unfortunately so was my shirt. Damn. I like this shirt. I blinked, and my hands were clean and I was wearing a new, clean shirt.

  I really can’t say why angels are so afraid of me. It isn’t just the angels, either—other creatures feared me as well. The moment they see me they try to flee, or, worse, start begging me for their life. Really, I have no idea why everyone’s so frightened.

  Well, I kill nearly everyone I meet, but that didn’t seem like a good enough reason to me. It is only nearly everyone, after all.

  Everyone had feared me for as long as I could remember. The furthest back I could remember, though, was only about six years. I woke up one day six years back and found out I was the scariest thing alive, and I didn’t even remember why.

  My memories started with a bang. As in an actual, real live hit-me-upside-the-head bang.

  My oldest memory was a banging sound far away in the distance. I was in the middle of the Grandinian Town Square, watching as the last winds of a wild storm died down. The storm had torn the kingdom apart. Most of the buildings were reduced to rubble, and bodies were strewn on every corner. The most powerful storm the kingdom had ever seen, and everyone blamed me for it. Somehow, I had conjured up that awesome tempest, but I couldn’t remember doing it. I couldn’t remember any of it.

  Sometimes, I tried to call up a few memories from my life before I was eleven, but nothing ever came of it. All the same, I was pretty sure that I must have been just as amazing back then as I was now. My ability to drive a whole kingdom’s population from their homes for months had to start somewhere, right?

  Yep. Most people had backgrounds, but not me. I had whispered tales of my notoriety.

  I loved it.

  And while there isn’t much I can tell of my life before the Apocalypse, there isn’t much to tell about my life since then, either. I’m just your average, run-of-the-mill bad guy. I don’t know how I became the bad guy, but, truth is, I love being the bad guy.

  For one thing, it saves me from an awful lot of unnecessary small talk. Since the destruction of the kingdom everyone stays away from me, even my parents. And of course I’m too proud to reach out to people who ignore me, so I’ve stopped talking to them as well. That might be why I talk to myself so much, actually. Hadn’t thought of that.

  When I was sure I had rid myself and my clothing of the angel’s blood, I flew downward, back to the traffic light where Paul and his mother still stood.

  I had a ‘take no prisoners’ policy, so I couldn’t let Paul go now that his guardian angel was dead.

  Looking a little way down the street, I saw a Ferrari sitting at a red light, music rattling its closed windows. Two punk teenagers sat in the car, bobbing their heads to the song. They were trying to look edgy, but it’s nearly impossible to look edgy in a Ferrari, however you’re dressed. Maybe they’d like to see what it was really like to be on the edge.

  Looking from the young boy to the sports car and back again, I snapped my fingers. Instantly, the signal changed. Without waiting for his mother, the little boy pushed through the crowd at the curb and sped toward the street to cross.

  “Paul!” his mother shouted, running after him, but the boy was too far ahead. She shoved her way through the crowd, hurrying to reach him.

  I snapped my fingers once more, and the Ferrari surged forward. The driver tried to brake, but the car fishtailed through the intersection, the teenagers inside yelling in panic.

  Paul didn’t even have time to look up. The Ferrari accelerated and veered right, the driver still stomping uselessly on the brake and blaring the horn. His mother screeched for him to get out of the way, but too late. The gap between the little boy and the car had closed.

  There was a sickening thud as the car collided with the boy. His body flew into the air and hit the ground nearly thirty feet away. The car’s horn continued to blare.

  The humans around me fell eerily silent as Paul’s mother reached her son. Her eyes were fixed on the boy, whose limbs were at horrible, impossible angles.

  “Paul!” she sobbed. People on the sidewalk crowded around. Many who saw him grew tearful.

  Humans! I never understood how they managed to feel sad for people they didn’t even know. There they were, circled around the dead boy and his mother, useless and murmuring, sharing their sadness. It would never make sense. But their sorrow made quite a meal for me.

  “Now,” I said, flashing a quick smile to D, who had appeared, up to her elbows in paperwork, “all I need is dessert.” I had just about made up my mind to push more cars into the crowd that had gathered round the boy when—

  Gideon, do you have a minute to come to the palace?

  What? What the hell was King Daligo doing summoning me? I was about to send back a message saying I had better things to do when I remembered that I wanted dessert, and what better place to find a decadent dessert but at a palace?

  I didn’t give the broken child a second look as I flew into the air. I could hear the sirens wailing, drawing closer to the scene of the accident, but I didn’t wait around to find out what would happen next. At full speed, I flew away from Earth and made my way home.

  I passed the clouds and flew forward into the clear, still blue. I squinted, on the lookout for approaching planes. Unfortunately for me, there were none. Appearing midair in front of planes was one of my favorite things to do. The looks on the faces of the pilots! The possibility of causing one of them to have a heart attack! Pure joy.

  I flew toward the portal to Grands, invisible to human eyes, but clear as day to me, a swirling vortex of not-quite light. As soon as I crossed the threshold of the portal I was transported to Grands, with its howling winds and its grimness.

  If I were to be frank, Grands could have used a light or two. I knew our kind were meant to be bad, and the dark-and-foggy thing gave the place a suitably scary ambience, but couldn’t we switch it up a bit? A few lights wouldn’t get rid of the darkness. In fact, they would accentuate the darkness, make it look more ominous by contrast. And I would be able to get around without constantly fearing I would bump my shins on things.

  “No, from what I saw, they had two teams. I think they called them Barcelona and Real Madrid,” I heard someone say off to the west, and out of curiosity, I flew over to check it out.

  I saw four young Grandinian angels hovering in the middle of a football stadium. One of them gingerly held a football, or as the Americans call it, a soccer ball, as though he’d never held one before. He probably hadn’t. I could see they weren’t a day
older than thirteen, and I could tell just by looking at them that they had recently returned from their first stint as guardians down on Earth. Everything human was brand new to them, and full of wonder, and nothing more wonderful than the sport of football.

  “So how do we become this Barcelona and Real Madrid?” one of the boys, a brown-eyed youngster wearing a baseball cap, asked.

  I saw this as an invitation to join them. “I can teach you how to play. I know a lot about football,” I said, approaching them. They smiled, and then, when they realized who had spoken, their happy faces fell.

  “Gi-Gideon,” one of them stuttered, moving backward. “Please don’t hurt us.”

  I pretended I couldn’t see how scared they were. “First day on Earth?” I asked, but no one answered me. “I really could teach you guys how to play.” I took the ball gently from the stammering angel.

  “We… we just… please don’t hurt us,” cried another one.

  I smiled at his innocence. “Real football—soccer—isn’t painful. American football, on the other hand, is quite painful.” The boys’ hearts were now pounding so fast, I was afraid they might just jump out of their chests. “Look,” I said, making myself appear in the middle of the field. “It’s simple. You make teams and then—” One of the boys didn’t wait to hear what I had to say. He flew off, as fast as his wings could carry him.

  I was faster. I was already in front of him, blocking his path. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” I shoved him, and he plummeted toward the field. I hated when they tried to get away from me.

  “Anyone else want to run for it?” I asked the three remaining boys. I smiled as they quickly shook their heads. “Come closer, then.” I flew down to the angel who had fallen, and his teammates hesitantly gathered around us. I started spinning the ball on one finger.

  “Do you guys want to see a really cool trick?” They didn’t, but they didn’t dare say anything. I made the spinning ball rise off my finger so that it hung in the air above us. “Don’t take your eyes off the ball.”

  The boys slowly lifted their eyes. The air practically crackled with the energy and intensity of their fear. It was delicious. I backed away from them, my eyes still on the spinning ball, and made it descend slowly toward them. They couldn’t look away, not even when I transformed the spinning ball into a whirling torrent of flame. There was no time for the boys to scream. Before they could even cry out they had been reduced to ashes.

  “Now that’s how you keep your opponents from being able to score a goal off you,” I said to myself, and took to the sky once more.

  SUPER-MAN

  Landing in T-minus three seconds

  Three.

  Two.

  One!

  I landed at full speed in the Grandinian Great Hall, leaving a three-foot-deep crater and filling the air with dust. I spread my dark wings behind me and stepped out from the hole, leaving a trail of burning footprints across the mosaic floor.

  And he sticks the landing! I really know how to make an entrance.

  I turned around and saw a girl behind me with a look of shock on her face.

  “I am sorry about that.” I pointed at the hole in the ceiling. “The door was…” I turned to the door and saw, embarrassingly enough, that it was open, so I magically closed it. “…was closed.” I smiled, in hopes my joke might break the tension a bit.

  It didn’t.

  The first thing I noticed was the elaborate medieval-y gown she wore, which made her look like she was with the circus. Probably not the look she was going for. The second thing I noticed was her beauty, and immediately I knew who she was, because a girl this beautiful, here in this palace, could only be the princess Sela.

  Look at that, a princess for dessert.

  I dusted my clothes with my hands and walked over to her. “Really am sorry about the ceiling, my lady.” I gave her the best bow I could muster. I didn’t tell her I’d intentionally landed like this because I hated every glittering gilded inch of the place. Our Great Hall was ostentatious, and I loathed it.

  “Gideon, welcome.” She was obviously no longer in shock.

  “Sela, right?” I asked.

  She managed a nod. “Yes, daughter of King Daligo.”

  “Please.” I gestured for her to take a seat, and saw that the chair was covered with dust. “Here, let me get that.” I dusted the chair as quickly as I could. I knew I wasn’t supposed to play with my food, but I couldn’t resist. “All done,” I said with a grin, and then I took her hand and gently helped her down.

  She let me take her hand. Once she sat, I bent forward so that I was hovering over her, with one hand behind her chair and the other on the big table in front of her. Sela blanched.

  Everyone was right, she was beautiful, this much I’d admit. “You have…” I touched my hand to her cheek, and felt her resisting the urge to pull away. This was new. “Ah, you have the most…” slowly, I moved my hand to the corner of her mouth, brushing my thumb over her lips “… beautiful … hair,” and just like that, my hand was wrapped tight in her famous tresses.

  I was about the comment on the color when I heard the door opening, so I straightened up and stepped back from my prey. When I turned around, Daligo stood in the doorway with two palace guards.

  He looked past the mess I’d made of the Great Hall as if he couldn’t see it. “Ah, Gideon. I thought I heard you come in.”

  Everyone heard me come in. That landing was awesome!

  “Sela, your mother requests your presence in her quarters.” Curses. Daligo had made me lose my dessert. Sela walked out with carefully measured steps, though she clearly wanted to sprint for the door. This was new. She didn’t like me, but somehow, she wasn’t all that afraid of me. I was doubly disappointed.

  When she was out of sight, I took her seat and put my feet up on the table, leaning back with my hands behind my head to relax. Daligo took a seat opposite.

  “What do you want?” I asked him hurriedly. Now that my tasty little morsel of dessert was gone, I saw no reason why hanging around the palace was going be of any benefit to me.

  “I called you because of the énas you killed a while ago when you Shifted,” he said. The Lumenians called the humans they guided énas, meaning “one,” because the guardian angels became one with the humans they were assigned to.

  “Which one?”

  “Fair question. How many humans have you killed today, Gideon?” Was he seriously asking me this?

  “I’m sorry. If this is going to be a Q&A, I’ll kindly ask that you send all your questions to my secretary, and I’ll get back to you at my earliest convenience.”

  I’d just about made up my mind to leave when he said, “The Elders are not happy.” This piqued my interest. I’d got the Elders’ attention? Finally! Took them six years!

  Lumens and Grands were different in many ways, but one thing we had in common was that both our kingdoms were subject to the authority of a single family of powerful immortals, the Guardian Elders. We angels probably had as many fanciful tales about the Elders as humans had about angels.

  They were said to have descended from the first king of Grands and first Queen of Lumens. It was also said that the Elders were immortal, but that each generation of parents would cross over to the land of the dead voluntarily when they thought they had served out their proper time as rulers and they were sure their children could take over their duties.

  Immensely powerful immortal beings who willingly gave up immortality? Personally, I found that idea incredibly stupid.

  The current Elders were said to have a daughter by the name of Madalong. She was said to be the heart of our kingdoms, and a host of powers were attributed to her: she could foresee the future, she could read minds, she could travel through time. There were probably also stories claiming she could tap dance, or sing beautifully while gargling. You know how legends are. There were also supposed to be two princes—twins—called Sun and Moon, who were said to be the very reason why our worlds we
re able to stay in balance. I had never seen the Elders or their children. It wasn’t clear that anyone ever had. But they’d apparently seen me. And I was worthy of comment.

  I’d been wanting to get their attention, because I wanted to know just how powerful they were. I also wanted to know why they’d ever give up everlasting life.

  Daligo continued, “Killing the humans is against our laws.”

  Did he just say laws? People still bothered with those? I didn’t understand why the king would expect me to follow anyone’s laws but my own. Wow, I should never have come here today.

  “Our job is only supposed to cause the humans little harms, to tempt them, to try to lead them astray, not to kill them.”

  Apparently I had a big neon sign on my forehead that said I gave a shit about the humans. The king could plainly see it. I must have missed it when I was fixing my hair in the mirror this morning.

  “The humans are—”

  I lost interest. “Something interesting had better comes out of your mouth in the next three seconds, or I’m leaving,” I said, cutting him off in midsentence. “Your Majesty,” I added, in my most scornful voice.

  Daligo moved a little in his seat, and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw real fear in his eyes. I wasn’t sure why he was nervous, and frankly, I didn’t care.

  “One.” I started counting down for him. “Two. Thr…”

  “The Elders would like to present you with a challenge. They want to assign you to the human Prince Tristan is currently guarding.” And just like that I was experiencing my first-ever shock.

  That definitely got my attention. “Tristan?”

  Daligo looked a little confused. “I assume you know who Prince Tristan Silas is,” he said, reading my surprise as ignorance.

  Of course I knew what’s-his-face. Everyone knew Tristan.

  On a planet full of do-gooders there was one who stood among them as the kindest and most loving of them all. Not only was he the master of do-gooders, but he happened to also be the most powerful angel in Lumens.