The Night Angels Novels & Stories

Ω Time passes just as slowly up Above, and Night comes on the same leisurely cycle for us as for you. The Sun sets in a riotous blaze of glory and the brilliant stars of the Celestial Heaven spread out above us. It's the same sky as for you, just... brighter, somehow. More oil, less pastel. Angels don't really need to sleep, but those of us who were once human still do, from time to time. It's a comfort thing, I guess.

The tension in Dirty Angels coiled tighter than a garrote wire as the night deepened. The bar wasn’t some dive with sticky floors and cheap beer; it was high-class sleaze, polished brass rails, leather booths that cost more than most people’s rent, crystal tumblers catching the amber glow of pendant lights. Velvet ropes at the VIP section. A dress code enforced with a single raised eyebrow from the doorman.

Sleep pulled me under before I could fight it. When I woke up, the room was dark. The lights were off. “Angel?” I called out. I sat up and went to the window, pulling the curtains aside. Outside, night had already fallen. “Angel,” I called again. No answer. My heart began to race. I fumbled for the switch and turned on the light. My eyes scanned the room, and then I saw her. She was on the floor. Sleeping. “What the hell…” I whispered. Why was she on the floor?

To his credit, Ethan didn’t flinch, his hand tightened on my back; almost unnoticeable. “It wasn’t a scandal, it was a choice, Father.” “It was a choice made under the influence of alcohol and poor judgment,” Michael snapped. He pointed at a thick brown envelope laying beside him. “Those are annulment papers. I’ve already spoken to the Archbishop. For a generous donation, this weekend will be wiped from the record. You’ll sign them, she’ll be compensated for her... time... and we will tell the press it was a staged PR stunt for a new procurement."

asked Erika enthusiastically. "Of course. There are also Angels selling such dresses, wing accessories and crowns!" "Wow! Angels selling? What did they buy it with? Money? Gold? Or what?" "Fresh fruit and flowers! Why do you think Angels need money for?" "Why do Angels want flowers and fruit? Do they eat fruit like fairies?" "We don't eat it. We inhale the aroma. Fresh fruit is very fragrant, as are some flowers and wild grasses!" Erika's eyes widened perfectly.

"Back so soon? Did you sent them already?" "Eto..." The angel gave a laugh, scratching the back of his head. "It is not their time to go yet. I think they should be given chances whether they have it to come back." "Ano ne, why? Why do you always pick some souls and do this?" The Angel of Death stopped flying, making Muchie turn to see him gazing up at the sky. He has never got the chance to see such beautiful sky when he was still human. What he saw were pure darkness at night, a ceiling with its plasters falling in the morning. It was sad, lonely and cruel. "They never understood."

I find a fresh outfit before stripping out of my sweaty morning clothes. I put my old clothes in a basket. Each dorm room has their own personal maid that keeps our rooms clean and washes our clothes. Because apparently angels are incapable of taking care of that themselves. I go to my bathroom and quickly take out my contacts. The damn things dry my eyes out and burn like hell but the Council would kill me if I didn’t wear them. Light angels have light eyes and hair. Dark angels have dark eyes and hair. The Council forbids the mixing of the breeds: hybrids are killed on sight.

"For the goodwill of heaven's council and by the votes of all fellow Angels, Laurent, is hereby relieved of his duties under the name of our lord, he has been exiled from the community of Angels and given the domain of fallen by the order of our lord. He may not hold any power over the godly actions taken by the Angels unless and until asked to do so. May lord give you his blessings." The announcer yelled out for everyone to hear. Laurent stood at the side clad in white, looking straight ahead, his yellow-green eyes cold as ice and hands wound behind his back like a soldier. His head held up, proud.

The original peace treaty still lay in the position it had millenniums beforehand, untouched by visitors. Dusty pages flipped silently. Words flew threw his mind at inhuman speed. He had been reading about the unwritten rule of pureblood angels. These angels were to only be royalty, however it came with a deadly price. Many of these newborns were ticking time bombs of anguish and destruction, having the power to level entire cities. Some never made it past infancy. This caused a very large shortage in heirs to the throne, with only one child surviving every millennium.

I will die, Angel," she added in a whisper. Angel lowered his face to kiss her. "You will not lose me. The gods can not be that cruel. I have suffered enough… lost enough," he rasped against her lips. * * * Around midnight, the phone on the bedside table rang and Angel answered it. Cole Miller's voice sounded from the other end. "We are moving out," he said. "Noted," Angel said and dropped the phone. "Babe?" he called to Nadia, shaking her awake. "Uhm?" she replied. Angel dropped a kiss on her lips.