A Serpent's Kiss

Chapter Eight

Alaura gulped and leant backwards. A high – pitched wail sounded in her ears and her head was pulsing with light. Then her feet left the firm tarmac and she was flying. Air whistled past her in cool rushes. Everything around her was a blinding grey, shot with streaks of light blue and purple. Closing her eyes, she willed it to be over. What had been something truly amazing at first had now turned into a dizzying sensation that was starting to make her feel sick. The hand on her arm was starting to bruise.

A shudder rolled through her and before she opened her eyes, she knew she had landed on solid ground. She opened them slowly. They were walking down a long driveway lined with trees that seemed to intensify the darkness around them. Confused, Alaura looked around, not knowing what to expect. Pinpricks of light peeked amongst the trees ahead of her and the midnight blue skies, and the further down the drive they went; the more she began to see of what looked like a chateau. It grew larger and grander and eventually they were climbing some stone steps up to the door. Qaphsiel hammered on it, one hand forced to let go of Alaura.

Quickly, she snatched it away and began a close inspection to see whether it had been damaged. Despite an angry red smear it appeared pretty normal.

The doors opened without a sound and a woman who looked like a receptionist stepped out, clutching a clipboard.

“Yes?” she enquired in a nasal voice.

“I have here the demon and the angel.”

The women gave both of them a thorough stare before speaking again. “Ah yes. Those two. Hand them over. We’ll be in contact with you shortly.”

Qaphsiel was eager to let them go and shoved Alaura forward. Stumbling, she felt a hand clutch her arm. Gabriel. She stared up into his eyes and could almost detect fear in them. Alaura gulped. This didn’t bode well. The receptionist coughed and turned on her heel, disappearing inside.

“I guess we follow her,” Gabriel muttered.

“Of course you do scum. Get in there.” Qaphsiel gave Gabriel a push this time and together they entered. Alaura was surprised to find it was fairly normal inside. There was a black and white tiled floor, a huge marble staircase and panelled walls with doors appearing every so often.

“Stop gawping or we’ll lose her,” Gabriel urged starting after the woman.

They followed her down a long corridor and then went down some stairs. As soon as Alaura hit the bottom, she knew what was in store. A small whimper escaped her throat and she felt Gabriel’s hand close around her own.

The further they advanced, the more twisted the corridor became and Alaura was painfully aware of the hundreds of doors on each side. The woman eventually drew to a stop outside one and pulled a card from her pocket. With a swift movement, she placed it on the wall and the door clicked open, swinging inwards. She jerked her head.

“In,” she ordered. With a bang, the door closed behind them.

Alaura was too stunned, too shocked to move, so instead she took in her surroundings. It seemed to be some sort of waiting room, with two chairs on each side, a bookcase and a small table with some food and drink set in the corner by a large window. Gabriel moved towards it, glaring at the food suspiciously. After a thorough examination, he picked up a pristine looking sandwich and crammed it into his mouth. Alaura stiffened.

“How can you be eating at this point in time?” she screamed, all her emotions exploding out of her with terrifying violence. “Do you even care what happens to us?” God, this is sounding like a marital Alaura thought as she watched Gabriel turn to face her, annoyance flashing in his eyes. He waved his half eaten sandwich in the air.

“You know these aren’t even that bad…”

“Gabriel!” she roared with such ferocity that her head started to pound. Dizziness rushed over her and she staggered onto a seat, closing her eyes and clutching her head. She had tried to fight off the fear, the absurdity of this fantasy for too long and now she was paying the price.

Gabriel’s sinewy arm slid around her back, holding her tenderly. She nestled into him, wrapping herself in the blanket of his body heat. Beneath her ear she could hear the steady thumping of his heart. Somehow, this seemed to abate the raging torrents within her and she could feel her own heart beginning to match his.

“You know,” Gabriel murmured into her hair, “these sandwiches aren’t even that bad.” She smirked.

The door was thrown open with a loud crash and a man and woman stood glaring in at them, both wearing white suits. The man stepped forward. “Boy with me, girl with her. Move it.” Her feet were glued to the ground and she could only move her mouth, but no words came out. A hand lightly pushed her in the small of her back and she jolted forward. The woman grabbed her wrist and started to drag her down the corridor. Panic erupted within Alaura and she tried to turn. Gabriel was also trying to look at her and as the distance between them rapidly closed, she felt like her body was being rent in two. She didn’t know when or if she would see him again,

“Gabriel!” she screamed, threshing against the arms that held her.

“Alaura, calm down, we’ll see each other,” his tones managed to partly calm her.

“You promise?” she panted, her heart and head hammering.

“Yes.”

Then he disappeared around the corner. Her whole body sagged and she allowed herself to be dragged down long corridors which gradually became wider with fewer eyes. The woman, one hand firmly on Alaura’s elbow, stopped outside a white door and with a swipe of a card, let Alaura in. The door was slammed in her face.

Alaura gazed blankly ahead of her, not taking in her surroundings. Gabriel was gone, she was alone, and she was facing court. Even that was not normal and would decide whether she would live in hell for the rest of her life or eternity. She made a choking noise in her throat and let out a blood- curdling scream, throwing herself onto the floor. If only that demon had never bitten her, if only she had been able to lead a normal teenage life…the tears poured down her cheeks in bitter waterfalls and she cried herself into sleep.

She woke to the feel of cold, unyielding tiles under her cheek and body. Groaning, she stretched, feeling her stiff muscles pop. Blearily, she staggered to her feet. For the first time, she looked around her. She was in a cell with a single bed, a mirror hung on the door and a table by the door and white walls and a black tiled floor. Nice place. Her eye returned to the table and saw something was on it. Drawing nearer, she saw a bowl of cereal, some fresh fruit juice and a bowl of fruit salad. A derisive snort escaped her.

Alaura set herself down on the chair and waited. After all, there was little else she could do. Gabriel was probably in a similar situation to her. Even thinking the name, she experienced fluttering butterflies dancing across her skin and in her stomach. God, she missed him already. Clichéd but so true. Her mind began to wander. What were her parents doing right now? Or Kate? Did people even realise she and her boyfriend had vanished from prom? Probably not.

She didn’t know how long she sat in that room but she could almost hear the tick-tocking of a clock, even though it was purely in her mind. Alaura felt disconnected from reality, mentally switching thoughts about her upcoming doom off.

A sudden bang as the door opened sent a jolt through her and she stood up in fear. The woman was there and this time holding what looked like a pair of cuffs. As she advanced, Alaura backed away.

“I am not wearing those. I’ll come quietly, I swear. Please.” The woman said nothing and her face remained a stone mask. Alaura’s back jarred against the wall and she realised she had nowhere to run. In a swift, practiced movement, the women whirled her around by the soldiers, yanking her wrists and arms together and ensnaring them into two metal rings. Then another whirl and Alaura was marching out of the door.

Flashes of light blurred her vision and her head felt fuggy. She was dimly aware of the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the sound of the women’s heels on the floor. This was it, the moment when her humanity died. They had said her journey to hell may not happen but she knew otherwise.

They climbed stairs back up to the first level and the woman opened one of the doors she had seen on her way in. An overwhelming and incredible smell hit her; rot, decay overlaid with the sweet scent of purity and light. Her stomach clenched and she doubled over, retching. When she straightened up, she thought for a moment her vision had been affected. The scene in front of her was an erratic blend of light and dark, split in the middle. Underneath these sat people. As she moved forward she saw the huge feathery wings, golden hair, and pearly skin of the angels that occupied the light. On the other half, in twilight, blue light sat what must be the demons. They looked remarkably human but there was an assertion of feral looks, wildness, and elegance. One thing they all shared; huge black eyes, white faces drained of all colour, cruel mouths and glossy black hair.

Welcome daughter, a voice slashed through her head, leaving what felt like a dripping scar. She staggered. There was only one voice that she knew that could work its way into her head. Her eyes scanned the ranks of demons and became fixed on one figure. He had the features of all of them but it was those red eyes that flashed, and streaks of gold in his hair that sent ice flooding through her.

Her hands met with smooth wood and she snatched her eyes away from the one thing she hated most in the world. She was standing in a wooden box, just like in a normal court. Gabriel was standing opposite her, looking exhausted and miserable. Her stomach contracted. This was all her fault.

A voice cut across the silence. It was the judge speaking in loud, clear tones. Immediately, Alaura fixed her gaze on Gabriel who was staring back. Somehow, through sheer mental effort, she was able to block out the words, not wanting to hear. Despite her resolve however, she couldn’t sustain it, and zoned in and out to certain phrases and words.

“-Gabriel”

“A kiss was made on the claim that it could heal her,”

“Possession of Apophis.”

This sounded bad, extremely bad and she didn’t think things could get any worse. It seemed the court was heading in favour of handing her over to that scum demon. Her hand curled into fists and her nails drew blood from the intense fury she put behind it. Then a familiar voice, filled with loathing cut across the silence. Startled, Alaura focused on the owner and gasped at the transformation. The normal woman who had once been her teacher now wore a gown of pure white, and had angel wings growing in a feathery brush behind her. Gone were the grey hairs that had been an essential part of Mrs Forster. Instead, white hair ran in a shimmering waterfall down to her waist and her face, although still old, was not quite as lined as it had once been.

“By rights, that girl belongs to the demon. It was this being that touched her first and the angel quality to her did not come until after. Vice versa with the boy. It is this first touch that marks belonging to a race. Girl, demon. Boy, angel.” There were murmurs and everywhere Alaura looked, she could see nods of heads. No, no, no.

“I didn’t choose to be a demon!” she yelled, bringing the court to an immediate hush. “It wasn’t my choice. But it was my choice to kiss Gabriel.”

“Choice isn’t relevant.”

“What kind of court is this?” she bellowed.

“Your lordship,” Qaphsiel began quickly. Alaura knew this was because Qaphsiel feared that Alaura would provide a strong enough argument to set both her and Gabriel free. “A decision?”

The room around Alaura began to tilt and sway the demon murk and angel light seeming to blend into a painter’s palette before her. Determinedly, she tried to hold on to her senses. She needed to hear this verdict.

“Very well. In light of the evidence and argument -“

“What evidence? What argument?” Alaura slurred faintly.

“I give full custody of the angel Gabriel back to the angels.” Good Alaura thought. “And the girl, Alaura-” Her body tensed. “To the demons.”