Servers of the Dead (On Hold)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

I suppose a normal girl would have immediately start jumping up and down, probably hide behind Nate in fear that the big bad dark angel of death and lust was bleeding all over their kitchen floor. A normal girl would have grabbed her friends hand and ran like the hounds of hell were on her ass.

But it's been long since established that I was a far cry from what would be considered a 'normal' teenage girl. Hell, my whole childhood was the epitome of abnormal. I mean, honestly, what kind of woman lets her eight-year-old daughter go off with a total stranger off to a very deserted cemetery in the middle of the night to learn the basics of "How to dig up a body 101"?

So no. My reaction was much more...composed.

 "What are you doing here, Lukin?" I asked calmly, folding my arms under my chest.  I could see Nate from the corner of my eye. His reaction was the kind of response you'd expect if a dying Fallen angel popped out of thin air; he jumped right from his seat, the wooden chair flying back from his sudden movement. The piece of toasted bread he'd been about to eat fell to the ground.

Lukin pierced me with an incredulous look. "I just told you!" He made a move like he was going to throw his hands up but he stopped himself with a pained groan. Golden streams of blood dripped down his stomach, travelling down the pronounced lines of his abs before disappearing below his belt. He had a single piece of cloth pressed against his wound but it was soaked through. "Well?" he snapped irritably. "Are ya gonna help me or what?"

I felt my face slip into a frown. "What do you mean 'help you'? What could I possibly do to help you?"

Releasing an exasperated sigh, he gestured Irgon forward. "Speak for me, Irgon. It seems these half-breeds don't understand a simple request." Lukin wobbled a few steps over to the bar stools, slumping down heavily. His skin moved from a icky pale yellow to a disturbing shade of grey. He was loosing blood quick.

"Alexandrea," My head snapped down to lock eyes with Irgon who was looking at me pleadingly. "Help the Fallen."

My frown deepened. "With what? His injury?" I snorted. "Yeah. Right." 

"See?!" Lukin exclaimed dramatically. "I told you the little witch wouldn't help me!"

I turned incredulous eyes on him. "You tried to kill me, remember?"

Lukin shrugged his shoulders, wincing when the movement opened his wound even more. "Eh. But the important thing tae remember is that I didn't.  Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Um, no. I had to have Phoenix save my ass by stabbing you with that sword. How do you think you got into this mess?"

"Given the chance, I wouldn't have done it anyway," He tried to make amends. "You're too pretty a lass to kill," he flashed me that charming smile that I presumed was meant to make me melt into a puddle of goo.

I didn't. Instead, I asked, "What's in it for me?"

I watched as his face slowly morphed into a completely serious mask. "If you can save me, I would forever be in your debt."

I stared at him hard for several long seconds. If that pledge had come from anyone else, I wouldn't have believed them. But I felt a cool rush of air wash over me and knew with dead certainty that the Fallen was earnest in his promise. 

"I don't know..." I hedged uncertainly, nibbling on my bottom lip. I mean, this was the angel of death and lust for crying out loud! Making a deal with him would surely benefit me in the future, right?

The fallen groaned. "Irgon!" he complained in a voice that was decidedly childish. He pouted his full bottom lip petulantly. "She's not helping me!"