Apollo, p.18
Apollo, page 18
“Apollo!” The speaker rose from his chair behind the grand wooden table where all five council members sat.
Apollo strode quickly toward the front of the elongated room. He prostrated himself upon the large star in the middle of the floor where all angels waited until summoned by the members. The speaker’s boots thudded across the floor, stopping short of where Apollo knelt.
“Why are you here? We did not summon you.”
“I am here because my charge is in trouble. I need to find her but in order to do so, I need to return to my last duties. I request to do so, temporarily, and to return to her guardianship after I have found her.”
“What you are asking is highly unusual. The Council does not take changes in job duties lightly.”
“I understand that. I only ask for a temporary re-assignment so I may find my charge.”
The Speaker remained silent.
Apollo pleaded. “If I don’t, she will die. Please.”
“I know the pain of a loved one perishing before your eyes. I do not wish the same for you, angel but tell me how did she escape and where? Was Ophelia on watch?”
“I don’t know but I aim to find out.”
The Speaker turned toward the other four council members who nodded their consent. “So it shall be done, Apollo. You are now a hunter.”
Apollo stood up and thanked the members. The Speaker stopped him as he turned to leave. He placed a hand on Apollo’s shoulder. “Find her,” he whispered. “If she is your true love, Apollo, don’t ever let her go.”
Apollo nodded and walked through the double doors.
His next step, gathering The Guardian League members, was not an easy task. After four separate meetings, he had the consent of all to assist him with the location of his beloved. Now all he had to do was reach the Hunters. He flew to the known gathering spot of the hunters, in Greece.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Parthenon was deserted at this time of day. Angels were shuffling in, flying in from all areas of the world like planes on a runway at a local airport. Several greeted Apollo, others acknowledged his presence with a nod while others looked on, unfamiliar with the angel. They all stood in a circle awaiting their leader who dropped out of the sky with a loud thunderclap.
A tall, broad-shouldered male emerged from the clouds, falling into the center of the crowd, his boots touching concrete. He smiled at his comrades, scanning over the circle of men gathered, abruptly halting his perusal when he found Apollo. His grin fell. He stared at Apollo while all eyes watched him, taking note of his next move. He drew his sword and pointed it at Apollo. The others followed suit. He turned his head right then left at his colleagues and sheathed his sword with a long chortle. “Well, if it isn’t the little runt. The hero has come back to claim his throne?”
Apollo shook his head and was surrounded by a solid wall of muscle. Solomon, the leader, embraced him.
“Tired of guardianship, are ye?”
“No. I am here on another matter. I need your help.”
“Oh?” Solomon lifted one bushy eyebrow. “What could we possibly do to help a guardian?”
“Hunter. I have been temporarily assigned.”
“I see that. Talk.” Solomon spread his arms out, indicating the crowd around them.
“My charge is in trouble.”
“You’re charge?” Solomon took a step forward. “You come to us about a charge? Was said charge taken by demons?”
“I’m not sure but I do know someone who would take her.”
“Her?” Solomon’s grin widened. “Now we are getting somewhere. So what does this her look like? Does she have a good set of—”
“She’s mine.” Apollo interrupted. “And I’d prefer you not talk about her like that.”
“Oh.” Solomon looked about the room. Several of his men chuckled aloud.
“Angel, you are coming to us for help. I don’t think you have much choice here.”
“I’m not playing.”
“I see.” Solomon rubbed his chin. He pointed to Apollo. “She must mean a great deal to you for you to change your status and to come to us for help.”
“She’s my mate.”
Solomon raised his eyebrows. A merry glint bounced off his irises. “She is?” He clapped his hands and the others followed suit. “Good for you. You have found your one when many don’t. I applaud you and yes, we will help you. Tell me how we can do this.”
“I believe Xavier has her. We must find him to find her.”
“Xavier, eh? He always had it in for you ever since you left him alive.”
“I gave him a second chance.”
Solomon whipped his arms out to his sides. “There are no second chances when it comes to derelicts. All beings we hunt are to be eradicated not saved. That was your weakness. That’s why you failed.”
“One mission. My first and you tell me I failed. Did you forget all the other conquests I’ve brought for you and your men?”
“It only takes one failure to devastate us. Xavier has become more powerful since you let him escape.”
“All right, can we get past this? My love is in trouble.”
“We will put our issues aside, for now.” Solomon held his hand out to his side as one of his men approached. He presented the sword to Apollo. “If you will join us, you must be outfitted as one of us. Here. You will return this upon the end of your assignment, however it may end.”
Apollo closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He understood Solomon’s message. The end of the assignment would be in one of two ways: finding Lauren alive or dead. He looked forward to the former because the latter was unacceptable. He held out the sword given to him to ease his mission. All hunters were equipped with a similar sword. The gleaming, tarnish-free silver stemmed from the same source, the one beheld by Archangel Michael. The Sword of Truth.
When the hunters were created, for pursuing and exterminating demons and other factions of evil that popped up through the centuries, their numbers grew at an impressive rate no one predicted. A glorious weapon was needed to annihilate and defeat those it came into contact with, making the mission of the hunter easier and swifter than in previous days. Once the nefarious prey was found, the sword sliced through them like a knife through butter. The idea for the sword of the hunter was Archangel Michael’s. Though their swords did not wield the same power as Truth, they did the job, protecting the hunter in their missions.
Apollo wanted, no demanded, the opportunity to annihilate Xavier, now the leader of the derelicts. Several centuries ago, he allowed him to live, believing his apologies of regret and bending to his pleas for mercy. Xavier vowed to change his ways and Apollo afforded him the chance only to find his nemesis grew stronger through the centuries, building himself an army and now, taking what was his—his precious wildflower—shoving Apollo’s grave error and Xavier’s freedom in Apollo’s face. If he had taken Lauren, Xavier was dead. And Apollo would wield the fatal blow with no remorse.
The trouble was in locating Xavier. As the leader, he wasn’t easy to find though several of his followers were. The hunters flew into the hotel room, surrounding it, and guarding the windows as several derelicts attempted to escape. Solomon slammed the head of one against a desk, while Apollo strong-armed one in a chair, holding it at bay with his silver sword. Their grunts gave way to inhuman squeals. Neither would give them what they wanted. They remained mute except for the one spitting at Solomon. He was dealt with swiftly and perished under the slice to his scabbed, bulging throat. Solomon wiped the spit off his cheek.
“What do you have to say? The same?” Solomon pointed his weapon at the grey-colored derelict mapped with black veins all over his face and body. Apollo tightened his grip on the sword as the derelict attempted to bolt.
“I have nothing to say. Xavier will find you and end you.” The derelict cackled, globs of spittle drooling out one side of his mouth.
“Your life means nothing to you?”
“My life is Xavier’s. I will die for him.”
“Piece of trash. I wonder if you’d think the same under torture?”
His eyes bulged further, if that was even possible.
“I will not give up my master.”
“You know,” Solomon flipped the sword up in the air and caught it. He tossed it and held it in front of the creature once again. “Slicing up a derelict can be pretty fun. All the caverns, dips and angles inside. Takes a very long time but we always get our information by the time we start slicing deeper cuts, especially around the eyes just before we cut them out.” Solomon pulled back the sword and thrust it toward the creature who screamed.
“No. No! I’ll talk.”
Solomon pulled back the sword. “I thought you might.”
“Talk or I’ll slice your throat. Where is Xavier?” Apollo pushed the edge of the sword higher. A drop of black fluid slipped over the derelict’s throat just before he screeched.
“Tell your goon to get off me,” the derelict shouted.
“No. We are here because of him. So talk creature. We don’t have all day and we need information. Where is your leader?” Solomon asked.
“I don’t know.”
Apollo dabbed the tip into the creature’s shoulder. A smoky substance surrounded the point of impact while the being screamed. “I don’t know, I swear, but I know someone who might.”
“Who?” Apollo asked.
“Jandar.”
“His second? What makes you think we can find Jandar when we can’t find Xavier? Apollo—” Solomon did a slicing motion across his throat.
“No, stop! Jandar has a mistress,” the derelict offered.
Solomon took a step forward. “Ah. The devil himself has a mistress, eh? Where? You better be right, or we’ll be back to finish the job. I could use a pair of eyes in my collection.”
“Listen, I’m telling you the truth. She lives in the village. Her name is Voletta. That’s all I know.”
“Let him go.” Solomon waved at Apollo who released the derelict. Faster than Solomon could say “good-bye” the derelict escaped into a puff of black smoke.
“So the mistress. Let’s get her,” Apollo said.
“My men have been working for two weeks now to get to this point, non-stop. They must rest.”
“I can’t. Every minute without her means life or death. If Xavier has her, you know what he must be doing to her.” Apollo clenched his hands into fists. “I can’t have that happen not if I can prevent it.”
“I understand, but my men need time, or they will mutiny. Some have families you know.”
Apollo stepped up to Solomon. “If you won’t help me then I will go on my own. I can’t fail her and I’m not resting until she is in my arms again.”
“This is your mission, not ours. You are invested. We still have a job to do, and we’ve devoted more than enough time for you but now we must switch gears. Demons will not stop just because your girl is gone.”
“She’s more than a girl to me.” Apollo pushed in, his face mere inches from Solomon.
“Back away, angel. You do not want to fight me.”
“I am going after her, with or without you.”
“Go ahead. We will catch up, later.” Solomon turned on his heel and flew out of the hotel room’s window with his men in tow.
Apollo slammed a fist into the table. He would not fail Lauren. He’d continue the mission without the hunters and with the help of The Guardian League, instead.
Apollo trudged up an uneven hill, too weary to fly. He planned to get to Lauren and safely transport her home with or without anyone’s help and regardless if it ended up being the last thing he did. His strides sight grew dim, and his footing became troublesome, but he plodded on, climbing further, for his love was on the other side waiting in whatever condition Xavier left her in. He was not about to fail her now and leave her to die. He worried what he would find when he walked into whatever room they kept her in. A shiver scurried up his spine and chilled his nerves. Was Lauren alive? He stopped to wipe a tear from his eye. He brought his pointer finger, which held the watery substance, in front of his view to stare at the first tear he shed in all the centuries he’d lived. His first tear was because of Lauren, the woman he loved and wouldn’t want to live without. Guilt entangled with hope and dread, weakening his resolve, as vivid images of humans taken by demons from his past flashed across his mind. Bodies mutilated, sodomized and tortured beyond recognition caused him to cry out in agony. He slumped to his knees and fell forward, tears flowing freely from his eyes, and used his telepathic communication to message the leader of The Guardian League. He couldn’t continue alone. There would be too many of them and to rescue his wildflower, he needed help. A reply sounded in his ears but before he could respond, he floated down into a blackness so deep it engulfed him completely and pulled him in.
Apollo opened his eyes and blinked several times, shifting them left and right in an attempt to determine where he was. The sun was no longer overhead as it was, previously, when he was on his way to…where was that again? The patches of grass beneath him cushioned him from the soil. He stretched on the ground and found a package by his right arm, no—not a package but an envelope. A medium-sized manila envelope greeted him with no name or return address. Undoing the clasp, he pulled out the contents and met the item with a confused, bewildered look. Strands of dark-colored hair fell over the palm of his hand. Peering into the envelope he only found more of the soft, once lush substance that adorned the top of someone’s head. He pulled the strands up to his nostrils and breathed in, shoving them away, startled and wide-eyed when he recognized the honeyed scent. There was no mistaking the familiar fragrance. Her perfume was ingrained in him, something he lost and thought he’d never find again, the owner of a necessary part of his soul. Lauren.
A sudden tightness squeezed his chest and burned through his veins. He grasped the delicate strands, balling his hand into a fist, clenching his beloved’s hair as if his life depended on it. He gulped back the sadness, the guilt, the betrayal, attempting to make sense of his current situation while struggling for gasps of air to fill his hollow lungs. His heart raced, his mind unwilling to see the probable truth—she was dead. He stared at the object in his hands with mixed emotions scrambling for dominance within his fragile heart. He couldn’t go on. His life was meaningless without her—his precious wildflower. To face another day without seeing her radiant smile, hearing her musical laughter and relish in her thunderous orgasms when he drew out her pleasure, was to ask him to stop breathing. He failed her and she paid with her life. He’d never forgive himself.
Apollo scrambled up, holding onto the precious remnants of Lauren within his fingers. His head fell back, and he uttered an unearthly cry. He held Lauren’s hair over his heart and wept for the future they’d never have. It was over. He opened his eyes, grinding his teeth with the onrush of images and ideas, sorting out Lauren’s demise, as a jigsaw puzzle.
Who dared send him her locks of hair to tease him? Xavier? He’d die for what he did to Lauren. Before Apollo could second-guess his actions, he caressed her soft hair against his cheek and murmured her name, distress cracking his voice. But what if she wasn’t dead? What if she was alive? His heart lifted and he tried again to contact her through telepathy, but it was no use. There was no response. If she lived, whoever held her hid her well enough to impede communication. Apollo thrust her hair back into the envelope, re-fastened the clasp, and chastised himself for collapsing on the hill from sheer exhaustion wasting hours of her precious life on rest. He thrust one foot forward, vowing never to repeat the error, to find Lauren alive or dead, and strode down the hill into the village where Jandar’s girlfriend, Voletta, resided. Little did Voletta know in less than an hour she would sing like a bird at the mercy of Apollo.
A loud crash announced Apollo’s arrival. The wooden door proved no match for his fury. It flew across the room almost hitting an angel already inside.
“I don’t know where she is,” a meek female form leaning against the wall shouted. Apollo took a closer look and found Centurion, the leader of The Guardian League, holding her and interrogating her.
She turned her head and screamed when she found Apollo. “No, don’t let him near me.”
“So you know who I am?”
“You’re the hunter Jandar talks about. The one whose charge is missing.”
“My mate.” Apollo corrected, through gritted teeth. “And you are Voletta.”
She breathed in a sharp, raspy sound and snapped her head back to Centurion. “Don’t let him near me, please.”
“I think the threat of Jandar is enough,” Centurion said, holding her arms back. “Especially, once you tell us where Lauren is.”
“But I don’t know anything, I swear.”
Apollo studied her physical structure and sniffed the air. “You’re human,” he spat. “And you’re with a derelict, voluntarily. Despicable.”
“I love him.”
“You love his lies,” Apollo replied with a grimace.
“I can’t help it. He treats me well.”
“For now but wait until he’s done with you. I advise you to leave him before you find out what he’s capable of,” Apollo said.
“He’d never do that to me.”
Centurion laughed before Apollo could reply. “He’s dangerous, Voletta. Listen to Apollo. Leave while you can. Once he knows we’ve been here, he won’t take too kindly to you. You’re in danger.”
“I don’t believe it. He loves me. He cares.”
“Then you’re a fool,” Centurion retorted.
A soft white light radiated near Centurion, growing brighter and emerging into a form. White wings followed by a suit of armor appeared. The form strutted up to Centurion and whispered in his ear. Centurion nodded and pulled back from Voletta, releasing her.
Apollo reached for her as she ran past him out the door. She scooted out of the way in time, and he missed.
“Stop,” Centurion commanded. “We don’t need her. We know where Xavier is.”
