Page 10 of Hazel’s Choice (A Monstrous World: Next Gen)

Chapter Nine

Zephyr

M y meeting to find accommodations in Black Cove goes well. I can move in at any time and, luckily, the room is furnished.

A quick tour of the place is in order to ensure I’ll be comfortable, but I’ve already paid the deposit to secure a room and the first month’s rent. All I ultimately need is a safe home base in the area, and I’m not picky. I’m sure it will be fine.

Spending prolonged amounts of time in the human realm is tedious, but Heaven is even more monotonous. At least the human realm has things like sports and television to pass the time.

Angel culture in Heaven is much like demon culture in Hell. It’s ruled by a monarchy that makes the rules and passes them down.

We’re assigned a job when it’s our time to enter the workforce, and we’re expected to meet all the requirements of that position.

If the angel is especially career-minded, they’ll advance without the need for strict oversight or discipline.

Hence, how I’ve become one of the most prolific harvesters in Heaven.

My job is very similar to what demons call reapers, but we have different methods and callings.

Where reapers intercede at death, harvesters learn the importance of culling a rotten soul long before it can cause harm.

We’re taught the signs to look out for, and much of our job is reliant upon studying the signals and gauging the intent of those we come across.

Each angel starts out with a gilded dagger that can hold one tainted soul to be deposited in the labyrinth. As the harvester proves their ability and levels up, they can earn weapons with a much higher soul storing capacity.

It’s all by the books, but I suppose there is a bit of a free will aspect to my position.

Where I might judge an individual one way, another archangel might choose to watch and wait to see if the target might take another path.

There are risks and benefits that come with both acting and surveilling.

Free will is abundant in the human realm, and I find that equally fascinating and frustrating. In my experience, humans and other Earth-based supernaturals do not make the best choices, but they are given the chance to improve themselves with every new day.

Sadly, that’s rarely the case.

From what I’ve seen, once a being heads down a particularly gruesome path, they rarely tear themselves free to rectify their sins.

When the call is made that a soul is corrupted past the point of no return, it’s culled and deposited into the labyrinth.

I’ve heard murmurings that the labyrinth is connected to the pits of Hell, and that’s why no one who goes in ever comes out.

I’ve spent many hours wondering about how all of that works, but ultimately, it’s none of my business.

The light buzzing under my skin pushes me to put a quick end to the meeting with the vampire, Novak, and I spend several minutes wandering the club, trying to determine what my magic is telling me.

This place is stuffed to the brim with sin and debauchery, but most isn’t to the level it would need to be to tease out my magic. Something especially heinous is about to happen or is currently happening.

Now I get the joy of seeking it out so I can exact retribution.

Shimmering isn’t the name I would pick if I were given the opportunity to select what angels call teleporting.

Demons do something similar, and they coined the word siphoning.

It’s the same exact principle, but with all that distaste between angels and demons, the archangels of old didn’t want to be caught using the same term.

My eyes land on the body at my feet as I appear in an alleyway. The bass bumping through Chaos is unmistakable, assuring me that I didn’t travel far to answer this call.

The echo of the panther shifter’s soul lingers near his body. It’s always strange to see an immortal creature reanimate after a non-permanent death. If he were human, the shade I’m currently staring at would turn into a ghost, but his echo doesn’t even notice me.

My power pulls me farther down the corridor. Something big is happening, and I’m meant to intercede on the side of whoever is being wronged. The confusing part is there are no sounds that indicate a struggle or even the begging cries of whoever needs to be rescued.

Coming around the corner, I study the three large male monsters.

My head tilts as my eyes light with my power. The assailants are so big that I can’t even make out their victim, but they’ve got someone cornered against the brick wall at the back of the club.

It doesn’t take long to determine none of them are moving.

Dammit.

That means one of them has time magic. It’s an ancient skill that has been mostly lost over the ages. One of them must be ancient—a djinn, perhaps.

I step out of the ether and call my blade, which appears in my left hand. As soon as I’m free from the shadow realm that I use to travel, the men seem to pop into my timeline.

I don’t hesitate.

My wings erupt through my jacket, and I use the momentum to propel myself across the alley. The spell on my clothing has saved me much human money over the years, but it’s always an uncomfortable experience.

Still, I ignore my physical response and focus on my targets.

The aura of the one on the end closest to me indicates that he’s a naga—a type of demon shifter that can transform into a massive snake. My forearm twists, and my blade slices across his neck. Black blood pours from the wound as I reposition to jab his heart.

Oathkeeper doesn’t technically need to connect with the heart to harvest someone, but it does hasten the process.

The troll who was positioned in the middle takes a swipe at me with a clawed hand. My sword is still collecting the soul of the first fool, so I use my wings to lift off the ground and slam my boots into the troll’s chest.

Oathkeeper glows with silvery-white light, and I can already tell the transfer was complete by the vibration of energy that pulses from the weapon into me. It refuels me, and I pull the blade free, spinning to run through the bear shifter on the end.

My entire body stiffens as I recognize the face of the woman with her back to the brick wall.

Hazel.

The witch from Spellbound.

Oathkeeper works swiftly to suck up the soul of the corrupt bear shifter, but noise comes from behind me. The troll must have reached his feet.

Hazel raises a hand, sending a pulse of smoky black magic at the troll.

Ahh, so she’s shadowborn.

I’m not sure why I assumed she would be a lightbringer. Technically, it doesn’t mean anything. A witch’s affinity is determined by when they were born under the moon cycle, nothing more.

I give her a nod of thanks and move on now that the bear is fully harvested.

My nostrils flare.

That scent.

It’s burned into my memory from the night Levi was murdered. It lingered around the clearing where I found his body, searching for any clue that could lead me to understand what happened.

The creature must be around here somewhere. It could even be responsible for egging on these monsters.

Dammit.

Am I responsible for Hazel being attacked?

The thought causes a pit to form in my stomach as my head swivels, and I search for the creature. Not only did it kill one of my best friends, but it’s now attacking anyone I reach out to for assistance in tracking it down.

Something hard slams into my temple in my distraction.

I pivot, ramming my blade through the troll’s ribs. It’s not a perfect connection with the heart, but Oathkeeper begins to drain his life force as my head thunders.

Gods.

I forgot how painful it is to take a solid hit from a troll. Giants are the one monster that might be worse. Well, those and orcs.

The venom of Oathkeeper’s magic prevents the troll from fighting back. At least beyond some light twitching as he tries to break free.

My gaze settles on the little witch once more.

She’s backed up to the wall with her palms resting on the brick. It looks like she’d be willing to climb inside the wall to get away from me.

Hopefully not from me .

I’m sure she’s just overwhelmed with appreciation at being rescued.

I offer a soft smile. “Thank you for the assist.”

Her head bobs awkwardly. “Um, yeah. You too.”

The poor woman is confused again.

She pulls her hands to her face and groans. Perhaps she realized thanking me for assisting her made no sense.

Oathkeeper finishes harvesting the troll’s soul, and I pull a foot up, connecting with his hip. His body goes flying, and I release my sword to return to the ether.

“Are you okay? Any injuries?”

Hazel whimpers.

The sound claws at my heart. She’s clearly terrified from the heinous encounter she just endured.

I’m still confused who the dead shifter is, and how he relates to this mess. I approach slowly with my palms raised to let her know I’m not a threat, but her hands still cover her face, so I doubt she can see me. When I’m directly in front of her, she finally pulls her arms down.

Her eyes are glassy, like maybe she’s about to cry. It would be a very human reaction for a witch, but they are closer in their constitution to humans than they are angels or demons.

“I’ve got you, little witch. They’re gone. They can’t hurt you,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone soft and soothing.

“T-Thanks.” Her dark hair falls over her face, and the backs of my fingers brush her cheek as I tuck the wave behind her ear. Her long locks were straighter last time, indicating she must have curled it for a night out.

I can’t help myself, and my thumb runs over her cheek, producing the same electric sizzle that occurred in Spellbound the other day. There’s no clear explanation for what causes the reaction, but my system aches to put her at ease.

“You’re safe now. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Hazel?” The voice is familiar, belonging to Novak, the vampire owner of the club. It comes from behind me, and a cascade of stomping feet accompanies him, indicating he has several others with him.

“What the fuck happened, baby doll?”

Oh, goody.

Another voice I recognize. That fucking incubus who interrupted my time with Hazel in Spellbound.

I dislike the way the little witch gasps, flinging herself at the sex demon. “Annex.”

I spin around, watching as the deviant incubus squats down to accommodate her as she climbs him.

My nose wrinkles.

That practically confirms they have some preexisting relationship. I can’t see her wanting to be that close to him while he’s in full demon form otherwise.

His name must be Annex.

I greatly despise the way he cradles her to his chest with one hand on her ass and the other on her cheek, where my fingers were only moments ago.

“What the fuck happened?” Novak growls, coming to a stop at my side.

I take a step back and fight my natural instinct to put more distance between us. Angels might not despise vampires to the level of demons, but they’ll never be my preferred supernatural creature.

“Someone fill me in on what occurred,” he says, drawing me out of my thoughts.

“I harvested their souls. They had ill intentions.” I shake out my wings. “But I sensed something else. I believe they had a creature egging them on. I need to search for it before it can get away. Have the witch give you the specifics.”

“The paranormal council is going to want your statement.” Novak’s eyes narrow as I crouch to push off.

“That’s not my problem. My gifts supersede their purview. Harvesters, much like reapers, fall outside of their jurisdiction. I answer to no one in this realm.” My eyes meet Annex’s as I take off. “Take care of her. She’s quite shaken up.”