I've tried to upload files from my laptop, but for some reason they are not accepted so I've been copy pasting everything into the little box provided. There are some parts of text that should be italicized but can't with the copy/paste. Whenever my characters communicate telepathically I always italicize instead of putting into quotation, because they really aren't speaking with their mouths, but mind to mind. So if you run into a piece of dialog that isn't in quotations, its not a booboo on my part. it supposed to be italicized. Sorry for not posting sooner, but I really wasn't able to. I'm going to try to post on a bi weekly basis, but can't really promise much because I'm writing sporadically on Saturdays, my only free time because during the week I work and am really too tired to write when I get home. Thanks to everyone whose voted and especially commented. I really appreciate the support and it makes me not want to disappoint.
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Anniel awaken to utter silence within herself. It took her a moment to realize she no longer felt Devon's presence inside her before panic struck making her sit up panting in terror.
Her mind reached out to feel for any of the other Alpha Angels and there was nothing. She couldn't see anything either, but then a light went on and a big looming shadow came toward her. She blinked, trying hard to clear her eyesight. All she saw were clumps of grey shadows with no clear definition. She was blind.
A snarl of warning erupted from her lips as her fear ratcheted higher. Heavy boots thumped the floor—concrete by the sound of it—as the very big shadow loomed closer. Anniel continued to snarl, baring fangs and drawing deep breaths between trying to pick up anything familiar.
The scent of something metallic mixed with the sweet scent Seraph's usually exuded and... a hint of wolf drifted through the air.
Backing up away from the approaching person, her snarls grew louder and her skin prickled with the desire to shift.
A touch on her cheek had her snapping her elongated canines, but her sharp teeth came into contact with metal beneath velvet cloth and flesh. Whoever tried to touch didn't even flinch when she bit him.
"You cannot hurt me," a rasping voice said. "Not much of me is human anymore."
"Who are you? Why am I here?" She winced when the feather-light touch stroked her cheek again, and turned away trying to avoid his touch
"I am no one," the voice rasped, deep and demonic, giving her the chills, but not in a good way.
Anniel curled her feet beneath her butt when the bed she sat on dipped with his weight. She would have scooted farther away, but her back was wedged into a corner. "Where am I?"she demanded reaching back to feel that it was a metal grate and not a wall she leaned against.
"King Dred wanted to defile you. You are safe."
She slapped away what she assumed were his hands and yelped at the pain that caused. His skeleton was made of some sort of metal. "I don't feel so safe with you touching me," she snapped.
When he tried to take her hands, she pulled them away and crossed her arms over her chest and scowled to show her displeasure.
His arms rose, bringing his hands to his face. She narrowed her useless eyes and blinked to see if she could figure out what he was doing. When he removed his goggles and respirator, she wished she could see better.
"Kiss me," A deep voice rumbled.
"Go to hell," Anniel spat, smacking her head against the grate behind her as she tried in vain to put as much space between her and the cyborg as possible.
"Neo," a feminine voice shouted from behind her. Boots stomped closer. "You said you felt no desire of the flesh."
The female sounded enraged.
"I do not," he answered getting up again.
"I heard you asking this bitch for a kiss," the female shouted venomously.
Anniel opened her mouth to protest, but a vicious snarl had her gasping with a start. It came from the cyborg in front of her.
"Get out," the male grated.
The sound of objects crashing to the ground had Anniel's heart in her throat. A door slammed, the sound reverberating in the room.
From the sound, she surmised she was in a large, sparsely furnished room. Blinking up at her captor, she saw the shadow of his one wing and the glare of his metallic one, but she still couldn't make out the features of his face.
He bent toward her and she shrieked when he seized her beneath her arms to pick her up. Anniel kicked at him, immediately regretting her action when her bare feet connected with more metal. She cursed roundly when her big toe began to throb.
Cyneolle, she supposed it was, sat her unceremoniously on a flat surface, and she soon found her mouth stuffed with a small, square, foul-tasting object.
Anniel yanked the horrible thing from her mouth and poised to throw it in his face. "Son-of-a—" She stopped, sputtering. "Did you just stuff soap in my mouth?"
"Soap helps wash out dirty little mouths. Now say something nice."
Anniel stared dumbfound. The soap fell from her numb fingers as she looked up into the grey shadow before her. She'd overheard Gareth say a swear word once and had put a little bar of soap in his mouth. She'd told him the exact words Cyneolle had said when he'd protested.
Her hands lifted slowly, until her fingers touched skin. When her hands skimmed up a strong jaw, her left hand touched an edge of metal while her right continued over soft skin.
"I lost part of my face in the first Rhylosian civil war," he explained.
A lump formed in Anniel's throat, but she continued to feel his facial features. His jaw was squared with an indentation on the chin, like a dimple. His lips were full, warm and soft, like Ashriel's.
"Like Garethiel's," she whispered, her hands now beginning to tremble as she touched his nose and traced the shape of his left brow.
He drew her close, and she blinked, feeling tears bathe her cheeks. Her nose bumped his shoulder and then his throat. She felt the heat of his skin, heard the beat of his heart and the rush of blood through his jugular. Had she wanted to, she could have easily unleashed her fangs and torn his throat out. Instead, she ran her nose up the thick column of his throat and breathed in deeply. The scent was definitely a combination of machinery, wires, metal, and electricity, but beneath it all was the faint scent of Seraph and Wolf...mixed as one.
"No," she gasped pushing him away. Her son couldn't be alive after all these years even though he did have Seraphian blood in his veins.
Gareth's blood had been so diluted. She assumed he would have a normal human life span.
But if he'd inherited his father's life expectancy...? At a little over three-hundred years, he'd be considered a very young Seraph still.
"Who are you?" she asked again, this time her voice tremulous with tears.
"I am Cyn."
"That woman called you Neo."
"Those of the rebel group call me Neo. The Cyborgs named me Cyneolle. In their language it means newborn cyborg angel...but I am no angel."
Anniel didn't know what to make of this. She was curious about his background, but only Devon or Seth would be able to really help with that. They were the most powerful of the Alpha Angels. "I need to find my friends. They will be looking for me. Can you take me to the black market?"
