Wings of Momentum

"I'll kill you, by the Almighty, I SWEAR!" My scream echoed in the cobble stoned room. I could feel the moisture against my back, but I wasn't sure if it was blood or the dark moldy dampness that stuck along the stones. With my hands in rusty shackles pulled above my head I struggled, sweat and blood dripped down into my eyes when he hit me again.

"Emmm, oh yes, please, struggle more, MORE!" he said probably thinking I was trying to struggle to get free. His smooth and wicked tone gave me the goosebumps. He was sick, twisted and too damn handsome.

I kept struggling just to buy time. King Lou knew I wouldn't stay dead, instead, he'd kill me and a damned soul would take up residence bringing me back good as new. I hated souls of the damned, unlike souls from heaven, the damned felt foggy in my head. Years of torture, past lives of being murderers, thieves, degenerate slime, gave them a power to sometimes cloud my judgement. All that hate is a powerful thing.

My clothes were ripped, and though rumors say Oblivion is nothing but fire and brimstone, there was no heat in this cave of a dungeon. I was sweating but freezing all at once, so the rumors were wrong. King Lou, the lord of Oblivion caught me. I foolishly chased a demon down his hole when he tried to kill the Other I was protecting. Landing in the Kings lap, I knew I had made a foolish mistake.

"You'll never kill me if that's your plan, so keep having your sick fun. Heaven already knows I am here and soon you'll have a war on your hands!" I spat at him. I prayed somehow word would reach Heaven that I made another horrible mistake. I was starting to think my mess ups were just horrible perks of the job as a bodyguard. Right now, I could really use someone to guard my body.

"Haha, but my love, we are having so much fun! I know you'll give in eventually. There is always going to be a bit of pain with pleasure, so why resist me. I could make you my Queen, we could rule together. Does that not sound fun?" King Lou wasn't convincing me with those words, but with his looks, I might be swayed to the dark side.

His large emerald green eyes framed in almost alabaster skin, and broad straight nose, a pointy chin sporting a bit of fuzz. His skin looked like satin pulled hard over muscles. I needed to wake up, to find a way out of here or I'll end up on a dog chain at the foot of this Adonis's throne. For once I liked my job, but hated I couldn't die.

I was starting to pass out, he had ripped my cloths off seductively, playing an abusive lover, then cut me gently in random places along my body where my flesh was exposed. He even traced his tongue along those cuts to heal them ending with a kiss. He was having fun, I was not.

"You're crazy! I think I would find sticking a hot poker in my butt much more of a good day then play with you. Are you wanting a war Lou? Keep this up, once I am free, I'll cut off that manliness to feed to your hounds! LET ME GO!" Screaming at him I looked at his crotch trying to envision if I could actually do it, and he noticed where I was looking. I looked up at him to feign bravery and force a determined look on my face, then I smiled. He finally showed a weakness, covering his manly part with a free hand he let a little anger slip.

"I will NEVER let you go, NEVER!" Slamming the knife down on top of the stone slab table he turned towards the bowl of water and grabbed a dripping cloth from it. I noticed how nice his butt looked in jeans, and found it funny a Lord of Hell was standing in front of me shirtless with a pair of worn jeans on. His golden locks barely reached the tops of those jeans. An idea came to me.

"You know, Lou, there are better ways to convince me. I don't do well with being restrained with torturous threats and being cut. I'm more of a fried chicken, beer and movie type of gal. Get a few beers in me, and I can agree to almost anything." I said it as girly as I could muster, praying for time, or for a savior. I would play it cool, interested, and get the chance to get out of these shackles. I couldn't call on my aura or my wings, but I would find a way to escape. It's only ever in Heaven, and now Oblivion, that I can't use either. I really needed to find out why, but now wasn't the time.

He looked at me after that then smiled as he wrung the cloth of water out on the cold stone floor. His smile chilled me but at the same time gave me hope that maybe he would fall for it.

"Movie? Beer and food? Ah, are you not having fun my sweet?" he asked casually.

"Rusty shackles, blood, cold damp dungeon, not really the setting that screams romance. If you're wanting my undying devotion, you should try a little harder. Let me go, get me some clean clothes and a beer, then we can talk." I responded with as little sarcasm as I could, I needed to keep my temper and defense on the back burner for this.

He walked over to me and dabbed the sweat and blood from my face. Being careful not to put force on the cuts, he made slow movements in cleaning around them. I watched his face closely. If it wasn't for him being the king of hell I would genuinely be attracted.

He caught me watching and turned those green eyes to mine. Half cocking his smile he leaned in a bit closer to my face.

"So special you are my love, I can keep you here forever to play with me. The Almighty sure put a lot of effort into you, sad really, for him to lose a creation like you." He turned saying this as he walked away then stopped and looked back at me.

"Sad for him, but such a blessing for me." He suddenly had a lustful look feeding into his smile as he said this.

He walked over to a high back wooden chair sitting by the stone table and sat down crossing his long trim legs. He started bobbing his foot as he rested his elbows and tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair.

"Women, demons, you name it, in this place, are all drama queens! They fight over me, gossip over who's my favorite, try to seduce me! The moment I start to play with them, they beg for me to stop, and when I go a little overboard, they'd rather die than tough it out. They never try to get to know the REAL me. I have feelings, I have wants and needs. If they'd just play nicely, I would give them whatever their heart desired. But noooo, they just want me to give, give, give, without receiving. The moment I break them, they stay broken." When his verbal tirade ended, he got up fast and before I knew it, we were nose to nose. His breath smelt like honey.

"Not you. You beg to be let go, then threaten me, then you tell me you would be more pliable with food, beer and movie? You want me to seduce you!? Convince you? Tsk, tsk. I believe it should be the other way around Ayda. You should be begging me to touch you, lay with you, let me into you, not the other way around love." Saying this as turned around to go sit back down, he picked up the knife, he started pressing it into his left, long, middle finger, turning it to the point a small pearl of blood appeared, I watched in disgust. I tried harder to sway him into getting me out of these shackles.

"Romance is a 2-way street buddy. If you have emotions, or feelings, as you say, me trying to use you as a piece of party meat wouldn't be fair right? How's about you let me go, I'll even put on a dress if you want, we have dinner like normal, er, people, then sit down and have a chat? You sent me straight to the bowls of the dungeon once I got here. I haven't even had a proper look at the place. It's not every day a girl can see a Kings quarters ya know." I responded a bit enthusiastically, trying to convince him I was totally interested in what he was offering earlier.

He looked up from his sick amusement and a somewhat normal look of indifference crossed his face before he shrugged and stood up.

"Okay, if you wish. I warn you though, sweet, that the final destination of my glorious abode tour will be the grandest, my bedroom!" Saying this and then reaching into his jean pocket like a giddy school girl, he pulled out the key to unlock the restraints. I did it, but I waited and would bide my time before I would escape.

Michael snapped his fingers at me to bring me back to reality. I had been sitting there lost in thought about my last encounter with King Lou, the ruler of Oblivion, or Hell as humans would call it. I had earned my self a vacation that lasted a whopping 24 hours before Michael had called to tell me I had another job.

Now, here I sat at our usual place, the coffee shop called Corner of Bliss, as Michael sat across from me.

Meeting here for about the last 20 years made us regulars I suppose. It'd become the point of job delivery. It wasn't far from my home, and the location was prime also for hearing tad bits of gossip from the smokers and sippers that monopolized the free Wi-Fi with a coffee.

"Thinking I could enjoy a nice vacation, but not one day after the last job, here I am again Michael. When is the Almighty going to let me breathe for more than 24 hours?" I needed to whine a bit, I would get used to having time off from being the bodyguard for the scaly and furry, then surprise, I get a call from Michael saying a new job has come in.

"Look Ayda, I'm just here to deliver the message. It's not my type of fun and games, you should know that." Michael cracked an innocent grin that hid the truth.

He wasn't my supervisor, but more a messenger between the Almighty and myself, so here I was again, squaring off with him verbally, like many other occasions, when the Almighty sent his orders. His smooth to sharp features, deep eyes with white bleached waves perched on top of his head looked like the basic pretty boy pop idol. Forget the chiseled bodies that are portrayed in bringing you that rough, manliness, Michael was lean, tall and all smoothness of rolling snowy covered meadows. He was the first Angel that I had met, and taught me the basics of what an Others aura felt like, what most of them were. I forgot the information most of it at that time and have been learning the hard way since.

"The mark refuses to join the West city juncture of werewolves. He's refused too many times and finally someone put a big hit on him, or at least that's the word on the street. Not sure it's the truth, but the Almighty has a reason Cash needs to stay breathing. " Michael stated the assignment to me as always in a very bored tone this time.

"I refuse." I tried whispering softly, playing on that femininity of innocence. It failed, however, because I couldn't stop glaring at Michael's pointy nose.

"You can't, you know it, get over it." Short and to the point as usual.

"Michael, there is not an Other more annoying, cocky and an absolute pain in the butt on His holy earth than those damn things." That was a lie, but I was trying to get out of it.

Just like many Others having 'particulars', if you can look past a werewolf's one night a month furry episode, they are pretty normal. It wasn't the violence or control that I was hung up on, it was for their ironclad pride and cockiness.

Even though this would be the first werewolf I'd be guarding, I still knew enough for it to leave a bad feeling. I may just be some puny, revived human, but I was oh so nicely graced by the Almighty with some interesting perks. He had a twisted sense of humor when 'creating' beings.

"And if I still refuse?" Sounding flat and stern, stomping my feet as I tried sitting forward, the result caused the chatter of the small chipped, fancy coffee cup on a saucer at our table. The sound gathered a few looks from several humans and Others sitting around us. I could feel the stares but one glance from Michael, and they went back to sipping and eating.

"Try to Ayda, I dare you. You'll end back up on Mt. Juniper with the Dryads. Staring at trees and being bullied by the Dryads overpopulating it. I do dare you though, I so loved hearing you beg for forgiveness." Saying that with a sly smile, I knew Michael was right. I had no service there so I could only yell to the skies, begging for him to get me the heck out of there.

"The mark will make his way here shortly, and you won't have much time, little bird, so I suggest you quit your pity party early, down that sludge you claim is coffee, and get ready. This one, will be a little tricky." Tricky rolled off his tongue in such a way that it caused a cascade of shivers down my spine.

"Tricky, oh fantastic, I needed something to upend my boring life" The sarcasm I laid on in response failed.

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. Michael would rather wipe the entire race of others and sip a cold cocktail then deal with anything. He won't elaborate either, it's not his style to get caught in too deep with the ways and workings of upstairs.

"I wonder why a wolf wouldn't want the safety of a pack, he gets to live comfortably and bump fuzzies with whatever female he wants." I mused out loud glancing out the yellow stained window. He looked at me and chuckled.

"Well, that is, if he's strong enough. I however think there is more to it, but alas, I am just the messenger." Michael had a point on both accounts. I wasn't overly confident in my knowledge of the inner workings of Pack Others, but I knew some basics. Strength and pride are handled delicately among most things, and the thought of that made this even worse.

I wasn't getting out of this, no matter how much I whined. I sat there thinking and sipping my sludge. Sometimes the realization I needed to grow up and get over it slapped me.

"Be careful on this Ayda, I'm serious. I won't be around to snatch your little rear from the Devil's mouth this time. It's my tour season." He ended with a wide grin. How convenient for a pop idol to come and go as he pleases.

"Snatched, humph, more like dragged by my hair and fingernails." Mumbling this I remembered the last run in I had with him. The Devil is no joke. He definitely finds himself hilarious, but if you want to compare scariness, Michael is a bunny compared to him.

My thoughts of meeting King Lou for the first time, and Michael playing intervention counselor ended up on repeat in my head for a moment before I was interrupted with his voice slithering in and announcing "Almost time little bird". I hated when Michael called me that.

I wasn't an Other, Angel or Devil. I was something close to a Reincarnate but not quite. I can't die, since I already did once and came back with a nice fresh and shiny soul. That way I can keep serving for eternity and it was explained once by Michael in a way he thought was useful.

"Consider every time you die, you get a new dress, or pair of shoes. You put them on, and wear them till they are ruined. It's the same with the soul you get from Heaven. You try it on, or in, rather, until its ruined, and then it gets replaced. The soul isn't damaged, but wearing the same one too long can wear it out also. Heaven creates the souls that inhibit each of the Almighty's creations. You just borrow them, with a few small changes to your appearance, but your still you. Your mind, that big heart. Still Ayda. Like a dress, as I said." I kind of understood, but the mechanics of it were too much for me to wrap my mind around.

"My oh my. Here comes the wolf of the hour Ayda, think you can handle that big boy?" I heard , napping my attention to where the Angel was looking.

I looked back at Michael, and caught myself whispering, "You're wanting me to protect that? That huge thing! Is this a joke Michael?"

"Why? You can't handle that big puppy?" He just stared at me for a moment and then snickered.

"For the Almighty's sake Michael, why could that thing possibly need protection? It could eat me for dinner!"

Michaels thin frame shook from laughter, causing the coffee shop dwellers to pause their coffee sipping, smoking and peak from tops of phones and computers. His voice was one of an Angel, that's for sure. I am being punished, that's all I could think of at that moment, and the light metal chime on the door rang through the shop.

My skin was seriously ready to take a hike, it wanted to crawl under the table and hug my sneakers. The Wolf didn't hide his aura, it was almost imposing to me, I was sensitive to any Other. I didn't have an aura, I just appeared human. The soul inside me gave off a lullaby sounding hum if any Other were to check.

I nonchalantly glanced over my shoulder to peek at him. From the side, standing at the counter that was below waist high for him, you could see the tractor frame shoulders. He was dressed casually so that came as a surprise, most others tend to dress to the nines when even visiting a pharmacy.

I quickly wondered if his lack of joining a pack had something to do with it. Without a pack, or a place to belong, some Others tend to swim and look like the normal dredges of human society. A financial constitution doesn't extend to those who don't cater within the walls.

"Approach him cautiously Ayda, wolves tend to be jumpy. They can be very protective and full of themselves at the same time dear, so you may have to let your personality take a back seat on this one." I blew a childish raspberry at him, guess Michael knows me better than I thought.

I could hear the mark give his order to Beth, she just smiled affectionately at him and nodded. I would have expected straight black, burns going down with bitter results, for his coffee choice but I was wrong, he chose the same fancy water Michael was drinking and a slice of cherry pie. This made me glance back in question at Michael, pulling a squeak from the pleather, and he just raised his eyebrows with a shrug.

I dug some bills out of my jeans and tossed them towards Michael, I always come prepared with a few ones to cover coffee. Michael prefers cold hard cash to payment apps on the phone.

"Here, for the coffee."

Michael smiled, gently took the dollar bills and uncrumpled them with grace only hands of an Angel could do. Rule of thumb, never owe for even a coffee, even to an Angel.

"Next time, just call me. These little 'shop on the corner' meetings are starting to rack up." I acted like it hurt my pocket, but it really didn't.

"Would you answer Ayda? What if it wasn't about work, but something...much more fun?" He cracked a sly grin as his butter soft inquiry leaked through my defenses and started to caress my inner curiosity. I grimaced as I kicked the thought. I wasn't

Michael's Other type preference. He tended to like common humans, male or female, safer so he says. Shaking my head at Michaels amusing question, I heard Beth let Cash know his order was ready. I threw a wave at Michael and headed out to do my job.

Gently rushing out after him, cool October air hit me so my blood started to dance at the feel of it. None the less I started a good pace at a distance from the Wolf, keeping to the growing evening shadows the best I could from across the street. Random old fashioned street lights started to flicker. The smell of food filled the air making my stomach growl. The wind was silently blowing from my back. I forced my eyes upwards for small favors. It must have been later than I thought because traffic from the street had almost stopped except the occasional bump the radio blasting.

I pulled my hood up to cover my hair, it was grabbing the wind, so I knew it best to cover the orange tendrils. My hair can't stay one solid color coming back from death, but bright orange was definitely one of my best looks this time. My complexion varied as well. It is what it is I suppose, but it sucks having a consistent color them for my wardrobe. That's why Black is best. When working, I tend to stick to tank tops under zipped up hoodies during the chilly season. Leather pants are just practical for movement and dragged along the pavement burns. I always prefer boots, but again, for practical reasons, I was sporting sneakers this time. The Wolf was walking down Nimble Street at a steady pace, my short legs are were starting to protest.

Trying to hang back, but keep the Wolf in my sight, I realized he was aware, too aware, of his surroundings. At one point he started to slow his pace. He must have realized he was being followed because I noticed the slight turn of his head showing his profile over his shoulder. Seeing this I ducked on the step of one of the little shops that shared the sidewalks.

Peering around a window that displayed years of dust and forgotten collections, it made me toss a sad thought around my brain, people get older and so do our memories encased in those items. I could see through the glass display that he stopped to turn directly into a 6-story apartment building.

The apartments were fairly new, built in the last 7 years or so. Its brick front faced the street, sitting next to a Chicken and beer joint I was a regular to . I could smell the crispy fried goodness hit my nose. Later, I whispered out loud.

The bikes chained to the racks on the outside didn't surprise me. It isn't an uppity area, but it was fairly safe. The zigzagged parking lot across the street held several nice cars, and a security booth. I didn't see anyone in there but if this wolf is staying here, then the property didn't need security.

The doors were very clean and free of random stickers. They had a lock installed on them but I didn't hear the jingle of keys when he entered, so prayed it was unlocked.

Climbing the steps slowly, looking through the glass, I pulled the door open.

He wasn't in there so I assumed he took the elevator that was straight ahead at the end of the newly painted off-white foyer, or maybe the door that had a sign stating stairs and exit to my right.

I noticed the slots with advertisement fliers peeking out on my left and slid over to it. It had 5 aluminum mail boxes all on row. Such a big building for just having 5 apartments I mused.

The labels on them were stamped with apartment number, first letter of persons name and then last name. Being only 5 names, I found two that started with a C. I didn't know if Cash's last name was Cornell, but I went with my gut and chose apartment number 101.

I mused if he could be any relation to Cornell Plaza, but living here, I doubted it. Not that this place wasn't nice, but it didn't scream 'Rich'.

I turned to look at the elevator but something caught my peripheral vision.

The window on the metal door leading to the stairs was empty when I turned my eyes straight at it but I could have sworn something was just there, I had the feeling of being watched. Taking my chances, I headed to stairwell door. Curiosity always kills the cat, luckily, this kitty had more than 9 souls.