Satan's Vessel

7.

Kaitlyn didn't get far before she skidded to a stop. There was a man on the ground. A police officer. He was lying on his side, his back facing her.

'Are you—are you okay?' she said quietly, hesitantly. A feeling of dread turned her cold. She glanced up at the roof but was at the wrong angle to see anything.

She walked around him, then turned away with a wince. He was so pale he was blue. His mouth was open. His eyelids seemed to hang over his eyes. One arm was stretched out, a gun gripped loosely in its fingertips. His other hand was clutching at his chest. Kaitlyn could smell the blood. She could see the dark patch beneath his hand.

He was dead. He was an actual body. She'd never seen one before.

Kaitlyn whipped her head around at the sound of more screaming. Forget him! Run! Run! Run!And she flung herself away. There was a road. Buildings. Trees. She found a footpath and raced ahead. Kaitlyn paused briefly to yank off her shoe. Her pounding footsteps sounded so loud in the silence, too loud. Could they hear her? She glanced up at the sky but all she saw were dark clouds and a half-moon drifting behind them. She needed shelter. She needed to hide.

She took a sharp left towards what looked like a park. If she could hide herself in the trees ...

Then she heard it—a familiar beating sound, faint against the ringing in her ears. But it was there! Her heart clenched as she turned to look over her shoulder. They were following. No longer looking like birds but great big bats. The moon gleamed against their wings—three of them.

With a cry, she raced ahead. There was no escape. Samuel was right—there was no way they were going to win this. She thought of the demons in her cell. How could they combat that? How many more Fallen were there?

Legions.

The beating became louder. Kaitlyn dropped into a crouch with a shriek, raising her arms over her head as one of them soared over her. It swooped skilfully, then landed with a thud in the grass in his bare, white feet. His back was facing her and Kaitlyn stared at his astonishing wings. They were beautiful, in a horrifying sort of way.

He turned.

Kaitlyn swallowed. He was so pale he glowed in the moonlight. His eyes were so deep in his head that they looked blacker than the night itself. Kaitlyn shivered as a chill ran up her spine. She would never forget their cold hands, their icy arms.

But there are those who aren't so good—dark angels. Those who have turned away from God.

Turned away from God.

Which meant he had been like Jacob once: breathtaking and beautiful and glorious. Had his wings been white? It was hard to comprehend such a thing with the way he looked now.

She turned at the sound of two more thuds as his companions landed behind her. They stood silently, their wings folding against their backs as they watched her. The same white skin. The same black eyes. Again, she couldn't comprehend how they could have once been as glorious as Zeke or Jacob or Catherine.

'You will come with us.'

Kaitlyn turned back to the first angel with a start. 'You-you speak.'

His thin lips gave a faint smile. It made the hair stand up on her arms. Kaitlyn's eyes flicked to the sky at a distant glitter—just a star. She looked back down again.

'I'm not going with you. He can't have me. He won't have me.'

'He will have you. It has been prophesized. You will come to him, whether now or the next time we meet.'