Evenstar (47 page)

Furcas got to his feet and wobbled.
 
Pain mixed with pleasure.
 
He held on to his wing as it healed.
 
He touched his bleeding head and glanced up at Paimon.
 
He gazed at him with love and desire.
 

Paimon caught glimpses of his former universe in bright flashes.
 
It was disorganized, cluttered with inconsistencies, fallacies, arguments with no end.
 
He stared at Furcas.
 
Before
him
, he had not felt and he had been perfect.
 
Now he had been touched by that guardian, tainted, corrupted.
 
He 
felt
.  He wanted the safety of unfeeling calculations, not this maddening tempest of sensation.
 
He wanted to undo what he had done.
 
He 
needed
 to.
 
This was not right.
 
He hissed at Furcas.
 
“You…”

Furcas took a step backwards.
 
His smile faltered.
 
“Did I hurt you?
 
I did not know, Archangel.
 
I thought…I…”

“You!”

“I am sorry.”
 
Furcas paled under Paimon’s gaze.
 
He held his sides and backed away.
 
“I am sorry.
 
Please.”

Paimon lunged.
 
He knocked Furcas to the ground.
 
“Give it back!”

Furcas gasped.
 
“What?”

“My numbers!
 
My sense of things!”
 
Paimon’s eyes glowed neon green.
 
“Give it back to me!”

“I have not taken anything from you!”

“Liar!”
 
Paimon punched him in the face.
 
He stared into Furcas’ eyes, and his numbers and calculations swam through his vision.  “They are you now!
 
You are
perfect
with them inside!
 
Thief!”
 
The thing that Paimon craved to understand the most, a design without second, was here in front of him.
 
The more he looked, the more Furcas showed.  Layers of information, all of the knowledge he wanted, a fountain of it, buried in the boy.  Everything in this place seemed 
less
 compared to him.

“
Why
?”
 
He clawed at Furcas’ face.
 
What he yearned for was in this 
angel
, an angel who understood 
nothing
.
 
An angel who destroyed everything he had known.
 
“Why!
 
Why!
 
Why!”

Furcas covered his face.
 
“Stop!
 
Please!”

Paimon kicked him.
 
The force sent Furcas flying into the rock wall.
 
“Why did you come here?
 
This universe was good enough until you!
 
I was perfect until 
you
!
 
You have warped me with your...your—” Paimon searched for words.
 
“Prettiness!
 
Meaningless existence!”
 
He lunged and tore flowers out of Furcas’ hair.
 
“Brainless!
 
Irrelevant!”
 
He grabbed Furcas by the arm and twisted, dislocating the limb.
 
“Worthless singer!  I cannot...it cannot...you have done this!”

 
Paimon lifted Furcas and slammed him into a rock wall.
 
The blow broke one of his wings.
 
Paimon screamed in his face, “I cannot think when you are near!
 
I am my thoughts, nothing else!
 
You take even
that
away with your
being
!”
 
He got his hands around Furcas’ neck and squeezed.
 
“You have done this!”

Furcas clawed at the hands around his throat.
 
“Please do not!”

“I seek you gone!
 
You distract even when not in sight!
 
I am not me with you near!”
 
Paimon sucked in air and fought against the pleasure awash in the earth.
 
He kissed Furcas.
 
He scowled at his weakness and bashed Furcas’ head into the wall.
 
“I wish you erased!”

Tears filled Furcas’ eyes.
 
“Please Archangel, I do not wish that.”

“Your wishes are irrelevant!
 
I am Archangel and you are angel!
 
I
am one of several!
 
You
are one of the countless, faceless,
replaceable
!
 
You are
nothing
and should return to nothing so that I can return to myself!”
 
He panted.
 
Fear fueled his actions.
 
His fingers twitched around Furcas’ throat.
 

“Please—”

“Be silent!
 
I hate you!
 
Stop
being
!”

Furcas searched his eyes.
 
“That is your desire?
 
This will make you happy?”

Paimon nodded coldly.
 
“Yes.”

The light in Furcas dimmed.
 
He dropped his hands and looked away.
 
“Then do as you wish, Archangel.”

Paimon snarled and squeezed.
 
Erasing this guardian would be easy; the pathetic angel no longer fought, the boy longed for his own end.
 
He scraped at Furcas’ face, but he could not bring himself to break his neck, to cut off his air.
 
His hands would not obey his will.
 

Paimon threw Furcas to the ground.
 
He moaned, disgusted with how weak he had become from these
feelings
.
 
Pathetic
that he could not even rid himself of this curse.
 
He was ruined forever.
 
He sat down and held his head in his hands.

Furcas gasped and sucked in air.
 
His head rang from the blow against the rocks.
 
He wiped blood from his face and stared at it in shock.
 
He heard Paimon’s moan and his eyes focused on him.
 
The young angel sensed the Archangel’s pain and despair.
 
He crawled to Paimon’s side.
           

Dahlia screamed.
 
What are you doing?
 
He just tried to kill you!

I love him and he was in pain.
 
I couldn’t leave him like that.

Furcas wrapped his arms around Paimon.
 

Paimon jerked as the touch brought back Furcas’ rush of emotions and mental chatter.  He ground his teeth.
 
“I hate you.
 
I hate you!”
 

Furcas held and rocked him.
 
He poured everything he felt through the link.

Paimon breathed in and his world spun.
 
He bit Furcas and pushed at him.
 
“Why do you do this to me?
 
Why are you hurting me this way?
 
You torture me!”
 
He shrugged Furcas off and grabbed him by his wings.
 
“Stop doing this to me!”

Furcas cringed at the touch.
 
He took a deep breath.
 
“I only want you to feel better, Archangel.”

“I only want you dead!”
 

Furcas dropped his gaze.
 
“I know.”

Paimon could not continue like this.
 
He did not want to feel any longer.
 
He wanted it gone from him, from everything, from Furcas—Paimon’s eyes fixed on Furcas’ face.
 
His eye ticked.  The boy was to blame.  An Archangel would not have been created with this obvious flaw.
 
The affliction oozed out of the guardian like a plague, infecting whatever it touched.
 
But if he no longer existed…Paimon grasped at his hope.
 
He could…he 
would
 return to normal,
and all of the information Furcas had stolen would return to the universe.
 
He was sure of it.

He fanned Furcas’ wings out.
 
It was perfect, an elegant solution.
 
The miserable guardian was obviously a broken design.
 
Lucifer had not sensed it yet, but surely he would soon.
 
He nodded to himself; he would take care of this mistake.
 
It was only right, having seen it first.

Paimon gripped Furcas’ wings.  Soft feathers brushed against his skin and agony bloomed in his chest.  He stared down at the boy and hesitated, unsure.
 
Pain swelled inside him.
 
He let out an agonized breath.
 
He swallowed it back.
 
That malady would end now.
 

Paimon snarled and ripped.
 
He squeezed his hands across Furcas’ wings.
 
Bones and feathers broke in wet snaps.
 

Furcas bowed his head into the pain.
 

Paimon mauled the wings, tore his feathers out, and gouged at the skin beneath.
 
He shredded muscle and bone.
 
He cried and crushed blue feathers in a frenzy.
 
Blood painted the pair scarlet.
 
He made the wings unrecognizable, ruining them as the guardian had ruined him.  He ripped and clawed until there was nothing left inside his heart but a void.

Furcas went limp against him.
 
The empathic connection they had shared was severed.

Paimon went still.
 
It was done.  His eye ticked.
 
He pulled his blood-drenched hands away from what once had been wings.
 
He looked at the guardian.  He grabbed Furcas by the chin.
 
Blood dripped between Furcas’ lips; he had bit his tongue in two to keep from wailing.
 
Paimon flinched and flung Furcas away from him.  

Furcas hit the ground limply.
 
The wail he had held in escaped as a wet wheeze.
 
He cried and bled into the dirt.
 

Paimon got to his feet and stumbled in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from what he’d done.
 
He wiped at his tears and smeared Furcas’ blood across his face.
 
He was confused as to why he cried.
 
He gnashed his teeth and clasped his hands over his ears as Furcas wept.
 
Each sound sent agony surging through his veins.
 
Hate and rage turned his hands against himself.
 
He scratched at his face and chest.
 

Furcas’ back was awash in blood.
 
His wings twitched and flapped uselessly against the earth.
 
He covered the anguish on his face with his hair.
 
He clawed along the ground trying to escape the pain in his back.
 
He reached Paimon and grabbed his ankles.
 

Paimon fell to the ground unmoving.
 
He stared without seeing.

Furcas took Paimon’s hands and placed them around his neck.
 
“Do not leave me like this.
 
Do not leave me to suffer, I did not mean to injure you.
 
I am sorry, Archangel.
 
Please, please stop this for me…”
 
Furcas’ voice died as pain consumed him.
 

Paimon looked at the stars.
 
They said nothing to him, no numbers, no formulas.
 
He dropped his gaze to his blood and feather covered fingers, to Furcas’ broken wings.
 
He reached for the wings in disbelief.
 
Slippery muscle twitched beneath his fingers.
 
He turned and heaved.
 

Paimon stared at his hands.
 
He panted, his eyes wide with fear.
 
He’d destroyed with his hands.
 
A keening moan escaped through his lips.
 
Everything was wrong.
 
His numbers were gone.
 
His formulas broken, ruined, torn apart…Paimon’s heart stopped beating.
 
He slammed his palms into his forehead as his vision focused on Furcas.
 

He had damaged what was perfect.  Now 
nothing
 was perfect.
 
Nothing could 
ever
 be perfect again.
 
Paimon struggled for air.  His fingers curled into claws.
 
This was his fault.  He’d destroyed it, what he wanted most, what he admired, what he treasured and lov—

“No.”
 
Paimon got to his knees.
 
He touched Furcas’ shoulder and gave him a light shake.
 
“
Heal
!
 
Fix yourself!
 
Fix it
now
!”