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  “Much obliged, Miss Isadore.”

  He knew her name. Ruin closely watched the hard, gray eyes that matched scraggly hair, lying in disarray on broad shoulders. Moving in a slow circle around him, Ruin didn’t miss that those eyes watched him too. “What are you carrying?” Ruin asked.

  The silver beard extending from his chin obscured his mouth, until he smiled. “Does it look like I’m carrying anything?”

  Ruin noticed the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You are.”

  The man slid aside his coat and reached behind him, producing a hunk of onyx metal in the shape of a crude knife. “Only this.” He threw the knife, his speed beyond human. The instant its tip hit the door, blinding light exploded into the room and body slammed Ruin. Isadore's screams dwindled to whimpers as Ruin looked down to see blades of light staking him to the floor through every tattoo.

  The man sauntered over to him with inquisitive eyes. “Well look at that," he muttered. "You are indeed the one. Heel,” he ordered. The shards of light shot back into the blade in his hand and Ruin gasped at the sudden release, watching the man return the strange weapon to its hidden sheath.

  He held a hand out to Ruin, and again, he was compelled to act contrary to his instinct. The man's grip bit into Ruin's hand as he pulled him easily to his feet. He then pointed to Ruin’s torso.

  Ruin glanced down and realized his t-shirt was gone and every tattoo on his body glowed white.

  “Sorry it took so long,” the man mumbled, twirling his fingers over the tattoos like he was making a selection. “Damn Olethros are like cockroaches around here. I did try my best to remain concealed.” He touched several tattoos like they were a form of button, his finger roaming over them.

  “But no guarantees I wasn’t followed. There. That should do it.” One last press on a tattoo and Ruin suddenly had exact coordinates to a location burned into his brain.

  Ruin suddenly felt weak as he stumbled back, a million questions clobbering his head. The questions seemed to know things, they were demanding Ruin find the answer, so they would be free to...

  be. Exist. Like Ruin was the one blocking everything. “What is, what are you—” he couldn’t seem to breathe or speak now. “What am I?”

  “Woe,” the man said simply.

  Ruin gasped as several definitions of the word came to him. “Do you mean... whoa or woe.”

  The stranger stepped back with his hands on broad hips, angling his head. “Kind of both, I guess.

  Now, time to take a breath. I just gave you the coordinates to your first assignment. I'm Caliber Creed, Messenger of the Seventh District in the Third Heaven. You are Ruin, the chosen Carnificem," he explained in a carefree tone. "Woe is what you’re all about, it’s your purpose. Doom and gloom.” He shot his arm out and peered down at nothing on his wrist. “And you’re late to your first party. Sorry about the mess, Miss Isadore,” he said, heading to the door. “But I had to make sure he was the one.”

  “What is…is a…” she snapped her fingers.

  “Carnificem,” Ruin helped, not wanting him to leave without answering at least that question.

  That term wasn't in the book of words.

  The man paused with his hand on the door. “It’s a kind of angel.” He opened the door then. “And I’m afraid I've reached the allotted words my message is to contain.”

  What? “How do I know to believe you?” Ruin demanded.

  The man paused without turning for several seconds then said, “I am Caliber Creed, Messenger of the Seventh District of the Third Heaven.” His tone said Ruin had committed some grievous crime.

  “Enjoy your first assignment, oh ye of little faith.”

  Ruin’s sight suddenly vanished, leaving him gasping and reaching out with his hands. “Where are you going? I can't see!”

  Isadore grabbed hold of his arm. “I’m right here," she whispered. "Oh my God, you seriously can’t see?"

  "Where is he?"

  "He's gone, he just waved and left," she shrilled, sounding near panic.

  “We need to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “To the coordinates he put into my head.” The power inside him swirled as though knowing it was scheduled to the job, and already geared up, eager to go.

  “He really did that?” she gasped.

  “Yes, he really did. How am I supposed to do anything blind?”

  “What are you supposed to go do?”

  “I don’t… actually know.” Ruin pondered the half- truth, realizing he could speak them as long as they were partially true. He didn't know what he'd actually do, but he did know it involved the fire and ice. He now understood that both were powerful entities with their own agenda. He was merely the doorway, the portal. To their world.

  “Well, how will we get there if you can’t see?”

  “This way.” He pointed where the flames in his mind reached. “We go this way.”

  “Let me get the keys to the truck. You direct me. Hold on, stand still, don’t move.” Isadore hurried off and Ruin became concerned over the sound in her voice. Her mind was being challenged beyond her natural, scientific boundaries. But then her ability to believe in God, to believe in supernatural things she couldn't prove should aid her. He hoped.

  Isadore directed him in the dark, and soon he was able to use his other heightened senses to see enough to walk quickly. She guided him into the truck and she hurried around and got in, starting it up.

  They were soon driving down the gravel road at a reckless speed, Ruin sensed.

  “Slow down, Isadore."

  "Don't you need to hurry?"

  "I need you alive."

  "Why? Sorry, dumb question. I just wondered if... if I'm somehow supposed to be there.

  Supposed to be a part of this... whatever this is."

  Ruin wasn't sure. "I don't know all the answers. I just know I want you alive."

  "Oh," she mumbled, sounding confused and maybe happily disappointed. The odd emotion distracted Ruin in a negative way.

  He realized he'd said need and want. "Both."

  "Both what?"

  "I both need and want you alive. I don't know why to either of those."

  "Don't worry about it, JD."

  "JD?"

  "John Doe. It'll be your name because I'm not calling you that awful other one."

  Ruin. He didn't want to speak the name either and wasn't offended she didn't want to. It provoked too many questions he couldn't be distracted with right now.

  "I mean, no offense," she went on.

  "This way," he interrupted when the fire changed directions.

  She took a sudden turn and Ruin held on to the door, feeling Isadore's frequent glances at him.

  "Why do you keep staring at me?"

  “Your... tattoos are distracting.”

  The ice spiked hard in his body, indicating she spoke an untruth. “I hate when you lie.”

  Several sputters escaped her before she blurted, “Well, it’s a big part of it.”

  “That way,” he said, pointing left.

  “There’s no road. Nope, wrong, here’s one.”

  They drove around that way for nearly an hour then finally stopped when he sensed the coordinates close enough to walk to. “Damn!” he growled, feeling it. “I can’t go without you! This is ludicrous!”

  “Ludicrous?”

  “By every word that you deem holy in that dictionary...” he grabbed his head, “stop repeating me while I’m blind. I don’t know why you have to come; I just know you have to.”

  “Well, I want to go, to help you. You don’t even know what you’re going to do.”

  “Well, if you recall the Royal Messenger of the Seventh District of the Third Heaven, it’s going to be something woeful and doomy. So, no, I’m not eager to drag you along.”

  “Well, but, if you’re…some kind of angel, it can’t be too bad?” She opened the truck door, and he listened to her hurried steps around. “Here I am, coming to get you.”
/>   Being helpless and dependent on her for such simple tasks, like an invalid, was infuriating him more. “You seem to take joy in my temporary handicap.”

  “Not joy—”

  “Lies. Why do you lie so much?”

  “Okay fine, I like it. I think it serves you right for watching me while I slept and not being sorry.

  Okay, I’m rattled, I’m freaking the fuck out, not gonna lie,” she whispered guiding him.

  “You used that fuck word in yet another way.”

  “Yes, I did. I still didn’t use up all the ways. And if I ever catch you watching me like that again, I will fuck you up, Mister.”

  He focused on the feel of her hands on his arms. “Stop. I need to whisper in your ear.”

  She obeyed immediately, and he leaned toward her. Putting a hand on the side of her head, he held her still. His mouth encountered her temple and he lowered his head, his lips touching along her face as he navigated. Before he got there, that ravishing power for her exploded to life in his veins. The feel of her skin on his lips and hearing her pulse racing in his ears held him immobile. And she was aroused.

  “Your need cripples me." The fire and ice wrenched at him like adamant children as he fought to remember what he needed to tell her.

  “I’m…sorry.” The tiny whisper was sincere.

  He slid his hand along her neck, wanting to touch the silk just briefly. It occurred to him it was the first time he truly felt her this way. “My hunger to answer your need debilitates me.”

  “Hunger?”

  “Isadore," he croaked, his lips tracing the shell of her ear. "Why do you constantly repeat me?”

  “Sorry.”

  The sound of his assignment reached him suddenly. A burst of inhuman wailing in the distance followed by chatter and laughter. He finally knew what was coming. "I know what I’m here for. Do not take your hand off of me the entire time. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her fingers tightening on his forearm. “What did you need to tell me?"

  "I don't remember."

  "So what are we here to do?”

  "Not we. Me."

  "What are you here to do," she corrected exasperated.

  "Execute judgement."

  Chapter Eight

  Ruin made his way to the group of seven humans. Judging by the terrain, they were in the woods.

  The smell of fire reached him, along with other smells. Alcohol, sex, human blood, and…animals.

  “I see them, JD, a group of people. Men,” she whispered. “And they look dangerous.”

  “Do not let go of me.”

  Ruin could see now, but not with his human eyes--with the fire and ice. Ropes of lava exited his tattoos in the form of a net until it created a fiery dome that extended in every direction for nearly a mile radius.

  He looked around.

  “Can you see?” Isadore asked.

  “I can see everything.”

  “Oh my God." Her fingers dug into his arm. "We’re here.”

  “Who the hell is this? You two look a little lost.”

  “We’re not lost,” Isadore said.

  “Shh.” Ruin fought to focus on what the fire and ice was doing inside him. The ice acted first, racing through his veins and lungs, forcing Isadore to release him.

  “Dude, what the fuck is your problem, you sick?”

  “You’re white,” Isadore whispered. “Even your hair. And your eyes, oh my God. I’m scared.”

  The ice had overtaken Ruin and he opened his mouth to speak its will. “The measure of your guilt has been weighed and now judged.” The sound of his voice echoed loud, and strange. “My name is Ruin.”

  He took steps toward the seven humans, now outlined by light. “The power of Judgment and Execution are mine.”

  “Okay you’re on fire now,” Isadore whispered just behind him. “Real flames. Purely impossible,”

  she sang lightly. “Oh shit, something’s coming out of your tattoos. JD, you’re smoking. Your tattoos are smoking…oh my God," she shrilled. "The smoke is...is alive!” she barely whispered.

  Ruin saw exactly what she did. The wind around them swirled in a mix of heat and ice as the breath of Four Horses left his body, morphing into seven stallions of fire. Their war cries ripped through the air like tortured violins screeching a horrific symphony of doom and woe.

  Isadore whimpered behind him as demons climbed out of the human's head’s and raced for the fiery beasts, mounting them. They turned the horses and faced Ruin. “Command us.”

  “They shall reap what they have sown," Ruin said. "For twenty and seven days, you will cause them to suffer. Then you shall overcome them with death.”

  The demons shrieked in unison, and the horses followed with a violinic chaos as they circled the seven humans.

  “You deaf man? I ask if you lost,” one of the men said, the rest laughing.

  “We were just passing through,” Ruin said. He took Isadore’s hand and hurried away with her.

  “You can see?” she whispered as they walked off.

  “I can see.”

  "Why didn't anything happen?"

  The second she asked, their screams erupted into the air behind them. "Don't look back." Ruin felt the fire carry out the initial judgement, spewing a liquid upon their bodies that covered them in boils.

  Buried within the boils was their final fate. Death. And it would fulfill the fire's command at the end of twenty and seven days.

  Back in the truck, dense silence accompanied their entire ride back. Ruin knew Isadore was struggling with what she'd witnessed. “I want to do something for you when we get back.” More like he needed to. For her. Or him, he wasn’t sure now.

  “Oh?” she said, calmly. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Ah, a surprise. I don’t really like those.”

  “You’ll like this one.”

  “Well, I know I could stand a hot shower, that’s for sure. Few bottles of Xanax.”

  Ruin remembered that term in the word book. It was a type of medication and confirmed his fear of her state of mind. “I’ll do it after your shower.”

  “You’re not going to rape me I hope." A wild laugh escaped her. "Ooook, bad joke.”

  “Only if you ask me to.”

  She snorted. “That wouldn’t be rape then.”

  “I could never hurt you, Isadore.”

  “Ohhh, I’m sure you could.”

  “Not intentionally, no.”

  “Yes, I know this, because you accidentally choked me.”

  A strange feeling assaulted him, and he glanced at her. “I’m sorry.” That he was able to say it meant he truly was. And he was relieved that he was. That he was capable.

  “Really?"

  "Yes."

  She was quiet for a few seconds. "At least I know you’re being honest. Be kind of weird being a...

  lying angel.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “I guess you’re right, what with the whole demon slash fallen angel bit?”

  He looked at her. “The what?"

  She glanced at him a few times. "Fallen angels? Demons? You never heard of that?"

  He looked out the window, feeling like he did. "I know it. I think. Somehow."

  “Maybe part of your memory, I’m sure. I think we may all have some of those memories of God, in some respects."

  He didn't want to argue faith with her. "Maybe."

  "But you're not a fallen angel."

  "How do you know?" He regarded her as she pulled up into the driveway.

  “Because you saved me.”

  “And then I wanted to kill you. And him.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No because… the ice inside me wouldn’t allow it.”

  “And you listened."

  "It made me."

  She shut off the truck and stared ahead, her fingers tapping the steering wheel to a tune he feared might be unstable. "How about you
not be so hell bent on being bad."

  Hell bent. The term escaped him. “What exactly did you see tonight, Isadore?”

  She was silent for a few seconds then took in a deep breath before singing the entire incident in a light voice, “Ohhhh, nothing much. You turned into this ice man, then there was fire, and your tattoos started smoking, then the smoke turned into horses of fire and scary people climbed out of…” Her words trailed off in mumbling and she suddenly fell forward.

  Ruin shot his arm out and caught her before she could injure herself. He was pretty sure this response to the night’s events wasn't a good one. He managed to get her in his arms and carried her into the house. Heading upstairs with her, he laid her in bed, staring at her before raking a hand through his hair. Now what?

  Lock up.

  Ruin headed downstairs and secured everything that could be secured in the house then returned to her bed and paced while watching her. He finally sat next to her and touched the back of his fingers to her forehead, measuring all the signs he’d learned about the body--her body in particular. He seemed to be able to read hers better than he could any other. But then he’d never really come into close proximity with other humans the way he had with her.

  He placed his fingers on the pulse at her neck and found the blood pumping with the momentum of deep sleep. The strong feel of life loosened his muscles and he took a deep breath then slowly let it out.

  The need for worry hadn’t presented itself but it wasn’t entirely ruled out. He could be missing something important in his knowledge still. He carefully slid his fingers along the hair framing her face.

  Remembering her bookshelf downstairs, he hurried down to it. There could be no risks. Not with her. He skimmed the books and selected the Science of the Brain and ran back up to read it while sitting next to her. Racing through the pages, he read the things that seemed connected to her situation and did various checks on her according to the material he read.

  Satisfied she was safe, he set the book down and lightly slid his fingers across her forehead, finding that he truly liked staring at her in sleep. Another revelation hit him. Her breasts weren’t the only thing perfect on her. Her entire face was. Not perfect in a symmetrical sense, but perfect in… an Isadore sense. She was...beautiful yes, that word fit her exactly. And when she was angry...even more breathtaking.