Ch 1, Let Me Introduce Myself

Lena was cooking her favorite kind of toasted cheese sandwich, smoked Gouda on seeded rye bread, when her dad and grandpa showed up. She knew it was a business call because the sound of her sandwich frying disappeared as the steam rising from the skillet froze and the light in the kitchen became effervescent. Only eternal light can do that, and only eternal beings can create a bubble in reality simply by appearing in the room. Angels. At least I won't have to fix them a lunch, she thought.

As was typical, her grandfather Raphael gathered her into a hug and kiss on the cheek. With his intelligent expression, white hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, untucked shirt and loose jeans he most resembled a strikingly handsome software designer.

Aware of his position of authority, her dad Michael wore a sharp blue suit and made sure that his human appearance was appropriately respectable, right through his blond hair and matching gold cuff links. He stood as if he preferred not to be wrinkled by too much contact.

Always direct, Michael gave no greeting. "You are needed."

"I figured as much when you didn't bother to knock," Lena said, shaking her spatula at them. "One of these days you're going to catch me in my skivvies."

"You know that's men's underwear, right?" Raphael chuckled. "I know you don't like girly clothes, but…"

"No fashion advice from you, Grandpa. That paisley shirt is straight from the '60's. So last century."

"It's coming back, haven't you heard?"

"Caedis Cruciatus is running amok in England," Michael interrupted. "It needs to be stopped but we haven't been called in yet. We'd rather it didn't reach that point."

"Caedis Cruciatus! Wasn't that bastard demon run back into the pit by its own creations?" Lena wasn't the most precise student of demonic history.

"It was weakened and bound in a human, but escaped before the human host could be killed. It has been in hiding and has apparently found a way to strengthen itself through the beings that carry its curses," Raphael explained. "I know you've been in America for the last couple of hundred years, but you really should keep up on these things."

"I'm semi-retired, you know this," Lena said. "Call in Uri and his family. They're closer."

There was a slight pause before Michael said, "We did. They failed." He looked out the window at a world frozen, unnatural, waiting.

Lena caught her breath. "Casualties?"

"Yes." Michael looked back at his daughter. She stood in her sunny kitchen in sweat pants and a math nerd t-shirt showing Pi to 3045 digits, looking for all the world like a 20-something college student instead of an ancient nemesis of all things evil. He would never understand her, just as he would never understand her mother's more human aspects, but he knew her well enough to know that she would grieve the loss of life, even though she recognized eternity.

Raphael put his arm around Lena's shoulders and pulled her to him. "I know, Lovely, I know. It is hard to see old friends leave the world, even if you still know where to find them." He released her, getting back to the reason for their visit. "Caedis Cruciatus is much stronger than we expected. It plans a full-scale apocalypse and is calling other demons to its cause. It is trying to become a big 'D' devil. It must be stopped."

Lena looked around her peaceful, rural kitchen with a frown, eyes wandering over the hand-turned pottery coffee mugs and bowl of apples, her mind moving outward to her garden and the hammock under two oak trees. I don't want to leave this and go chasing after some dickhead demon! She caught her breath. Holy shit on a shingle! When did I become a Hobbit?

"Alright. Fuck it. I'm in." Lena deftly flipped her semi-toasted cheese sandwich out of the skillet with one hand and caught it in the other. "Close up the house?" she asked Raphael as her dad grabbed her arm and they disappeared.

Lena and Michael reappeared near a television station, apparently abandoned. Lena took a bite of her sandwich. "Fill me in?"

"Right." Michael pointed toward the station. "This is where it started. Caedis Cruciatus commandeered the national emergency broadcast system with a plan to tell everyone watching to kill themselves. Apparently it developed great powers of verbal persuasion while trapped in human form. This type of demon feeds on death and violence, and suicide usually has both, so every death it causes makes it stronger."

"Smart move," Lena said, assessing the threat. "So, where are we?"

"Cardiff."

"Wales! Again? What is it with this place and disasters? First vampires and now demons! Shit fire and save the matches! What next?"

"Language!" Raphael appeared next to Lena. "I turned off your stove and locked up, by the way. You may be gone for a while."

"Thanks, Grandpa. So, is Caedis Cruciatus still in there? It doesn't feel like it." She took another bite. "Is the plan in play?"

"It went slightly awry when our old friends the Men in Grey cut the satellite feed halfway through the demon's speech." Raphael said with a slight smile. "Still, enough had been said to effect the weak-minded. There were just over five million suicides."

"Holy shit!" Lena gasped. "That many weak-minded, eh? So that'll be the government and some sectors of the business world decimated, I guess."

"Lena! Not funny! People have died! Another quarter-million have been murdered in the last two days. The demon is on a rampage and growing stronger." Raphael shook his head. "What's more, it is building an army, drawing others to its cause. Even the MiG are out of their depth here. Nothing in their archives will have prepared them for this. That's why Uri's family got involved."

"So if Caedis Cruciatus isn't here, why are we?"

Michael answered, "The cursed beings who first gave it the strength to move are in there, guarded. A vampire and a werewolf, and a ghost as well. The demon's power is linked to them somehow, or it would have killed them already."

"Are they in cahoots?" Lena was a fan of Western movies. Michael was not. At his frown, Lena continued. "Come on Dad, you know what I mean. If they're helping Caedis I should kill them. Might weaken Dickhead Demon and make it easier to track down."

"You can't kill them, they aren't helping Caedis. In fact, they were trying to stop the demon, even though they believe it is the Devil itself they were fighting. They had some kind of blood ritual started," Michael said. "They are victims, not "cahoots'."

Lena sighed, barely refraining from an eye roll at her dad. "Really? Then why is the ghost still in there? He can't hold a ghost against its will." She continued, "The werewolf may be a victim, but I've never met an innocent vampire. Killing it would do some good, maybe slow Dickhead up enough to make it easier for me to catch." I'm not passing up a chance to dust a fanghead, she thought.

Raphael and Michael exchanged uneasy looks, neither one of them wanting to break the news. Finally, just as Lena was going to ask them what was up, Raphael said, "Lovely, I'm sorry. It's Hal Yorke."

Lena staggered, her legs suddenly weak, her vision hazy. She put her hands on her knees and took a couple of steadying breaths, trying to keep her sandwich in place in her heaving stomach.

"He survived the explosion at Stoker's? He didn't die with the rest of them?" Lena felt herself winding up into a full-blown tantrum, and she didn't care. "Hal. Yorke. Hal "the butcher" Yorke. Hal "the only vampire in creation I'm not allowed to kill" Yorke. I have to save Hal fucking Yorke? Oh, this is rich! My god! The creator has a sick sense of humor! I pass. I won't do it. I'm out."

Raphael grabbed her arm before she could disappear. "Not this again! Lena, you're better than this! Let it go!"

She pulled her arm away, viciously. "No! I promised not to harm him, because you forced me to. That's all you're getting from me!"

Michael stepped between them. As far as he was concerned, the discussion was over. "You are the only Seraphin Nepos* with the strength and experience to keep this mini-apocalypse from becoming the real thing. If human life is important to you, you have no choice but to do this thing."

"Can't you call up a legion of angels and deal with it, Dad? I know you're itching for a good battle, you're wearing chain mail under your suit."

"You know we can't act on our own volition. I may be the commander of the host, but I still wait for orders." Michael gave his daughter a tight smile. "If, however, a family member was in desperate need of help against dark forces, I'm sure I'd be forgiven …"

"Michael, don't talk like that," Raphael interrupted. "You know Lena's not going to need help. She's your daughter after all, and she's been protecting humanity for a long time." He turned to his granddaughter. "Off you go, you have work to do."

Lena stood for a moment, shoulders drooping, eyes on the ground. "Language!" her grandpa gasped.

"I didn't say anything!"

"No, but you covered Carlin's seven deadly words and then some in your mind," he said. "I know you, remember?"

"Shit! Fuck!" Lena snapped out two of the seven, her personal favorites, as she turned to go.

"What, you're going into battle like that? No chain mail?" her father arched an eyebrow, teasing her gently, reminding her in his own way to get her act together.

"I'll have what I need when I need it, just like you taught me." She smiled slightly. "At least I've got shoes on this time, not like the day you dropped me on Vesuvius." She pointed to her canvas Keds, turned, and stepped out of eternity and into Wales.

Michael and Raphael watched their powerful, ethical, troubled, ageless child walk away. "We may lose her completely this time," Michael said. "She could get lost in her rage and not come back."

"We won't. She has too much of her mother and grandmother in her. She'll find her way."

"You trust humanity's corrupting influence instead of her angel nature?"

Raphael turned to his son-in-law. "Lucifer had no humanity and he fell. Human mercy, human empathy, the human capacity for love, those human qualities drew us to our wives, remember? Lena has those qualities too. That's what I'm trusting."

Michael nodded. "Let's hope you're right."

Lena walked toward the driveway of the television station, changing her appearance slightly as she went. Red-gold hair became soft brown, rich brown eyes became quiet grey, her face became rounder, her skin slightly blemished. No reason to draw attention to herself as anything other than normal and human.

One of her gifts as a Seraphin Nepos was the ability to take any human form she chose. Runs in the family,she chuckled as she considered what her dad and grandfather looked like without their human camouflage.

Because she was part immortal Lena could interact with things beyond the physical world. She could see blessings resting like the wings of doves across the shoulders of their hosts, or draped like garlands of flowers, adding beauty and fragrance to their blessed ones.

More often, in her line of work, she saw curses: the shadow of the werewolf that hung over its victim and grew more clearly defined as the full moon approached: the vampire curse that propelled dead flesh into horrific violence, growing as it fed, eventually hiding the form of its human host almost completely.

Lena also saw demons peeking through the eyes of murderers and rapists, whirling clouds of minions following the great devils who commanded armies and countries through the guise of generals and politicians. She had lost count of how many she had destroyed.

No wonder I'm trying to retire, she grumbled to herself as she considered Caedis Cruciatus. Fucking demons and their fucking curses. I'm too old for this shit. I've probably come across every kind of demon and curse there is. Bastards only get uglier.

Reaching the driveway, Lena turned casually, as if checking for traffic. She took one more look at the two beings she loved more dearly than any human on the planet. Right. Let's not drag them into this. She stepped onto station property and walked calmly toward the next battle, keeping step to the lyrics of "Yellow Submarine*" that she sang quietly and slightly out of tune. Lena sensed the evil enclosing the station and she knew it was guarded, probably by a good number of Caedis' minions.

As she advanced, Lena could see the curse that Caedis Cruciatus had placed to seal the station from outsiders. Its formless black malevolence draped over the building and rippled slightly as she approached; unblinking eyes moved into position to watch her. Red eyes, Lena noticed, not yellow. This is not your typical curse designed to keep out unknowing humans, she thought. Uri's assault gave Caedis enough trouble to warrant increased defenses. Still, she had dispatched countless curses this tough or tougher. She silently thanked her father and grandfather for her training.

One of Lena's favorite gifts was the ability to hide recognition of what she was from her enemies until she was ready for the big reveal. Feigning ignorance of all things supernatural, Lena reached the front door and gave a sharp tug, pulling it open slightly and drawing the red eyes of the curse in close to inspect her. She stepped back as if puzzled by the stuck door, then looked the curse directly in the eyes and smiled.

Before the curse had a chance to react, two ephemeral blades appeared in Lena's hands. They became fully formed and perfectly sharp as she spun them in her hands and gouged the eyes out of the curse. It writhed briefly, then disintegrated. Lena flung open the door to the television station and stalked in, calling out "Honey, I'm home!" for all its occupants to hear.

"I'm feeling a little Michelle Yeoh, anybody want to come play warrior with me?" She called out as she walked into a cavernous studio. Lena held her swords at the ready as a herd of expressionless soulless corpses with burning eyes advanced toward her. "What, you don't know Michelle Yeoh? Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*?" She laughed; her battlefield monologue was as snappy as ever.

She rushed the crowd, quartering a demon-possessed body in a flash, then another as she charged through, the body parts landing with thuds on the floor, what looked like coal dust flying into the air. Lena ran a few steps up a wall, flipped, and spun in mid-air like any great martial-arts action hero, splitting two bodies lengthwise as they turned to face her, too late. She was behind them again. "Come on guys, you're making this too easy! What are you, Uma Thurman fans? Pick up the pace!"

She slashed the next two from shoulder to hip, giant X's appearing on their torsos before they fell to pieces, more black dust landing around them on the floor. "Haven't you figured it out yet? You can't stop me! I'm not human and neither are these blades!" She laughed as the remaining seven demons hesitated and began to back away. "Angel blades, baby! Eternally sharp and guaranteed to rend you to bits. No going home for you lot, this is your Oblivion Day."

Okay, that was way cheesy, I've clearly seen too many Bruce Willis movies, she said to herself, then shrugged. Eh, what the hell.

As if they shared a brain, which they did, the demons circled her, each one picking up a weapon of sorts from the equipment lying about. "Six down, seven to go. Lucky 13, eh? Classic cliché evil. Can't Dickhead think of anything that hasn't already been done?" Lena relaxed, poised and calm, waiting for the next move.

A once-cute, now-dead girl threw a chair at her, which she avoided by jumping straight up, allowing it to fly across the circle and knock down a once-cuter, now-just-as-dead girl whose weapon of choice was a letter opener. Not much loss, really, Lena thought as she landed and charged the camera-boom-wielding guy next to letter-opener girl. She sliced the boom into pieces as it was swung at her, ending with one sword piercing the fellow's chest, the other pinning the girl to the floor. A quick flip of her wrists and two more down, five to go.

"Two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate? Me!" she chanted in classic American cheerleader fashion as she hacked the arms off the next demon (microphone-stand man) and quartered his head for good measure. "Score, score, we want more!" she murmured as she ducked to avoid a video camera whizzing past, then sliced the legs off of its flinger, a now empty-handed ginger fellow who looked slightly puzzled as he fell into her other sword.

The three remaining demons dropped their weapons and any pretense of humanity and charged her, contorting their host bodies as bones broke, limbed extended, and fangs and talons appeared ready for the attack.

"Finally!" Lena cried, "I get to see the real you!" The demons moved with supernatural speed, but Lena matched it, trumped it, as a suggestion of wings appeared across her shoulders, propelling her and protecting her from their onslaught. Within moments it was over.

*Seraphin Nepos is a creature of my own invention. The term means 'angel descendants' and is used to refer to all of those who have angel/immortal genetics as part of their heritage.

*"Yellow Submarine" is a Beatles song.

*Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is an excellent film.