among us.
- What thing? And who is the Ultimate Angel? And what does that mean among you?
- I don't have the answer to your first question and I can't answer the second. As for the latter, the Ultimate Angel feels that you belong in the eternal resting place, if that is your desire. Now you must choose. However, I warn you, staying alive will cost you more than you can imagine. To go against death is not trivial.
And one more riddle, one. It's surreal! I am talking to an angel and I have the right to choose life. Moreover, I should pay the price. A high price. Decision, decision...
- I want to live.
I've never been afraid of challenges. I like challenges. The angel nods and snaps his fingers. I feel like I’m being propelled forward, towards my body, as the angel's deep voice echoes in my head.
"Fight to survive. You will not remember me, but I will watch over you as long as the Ultimate Angel will let me.
After an endless fall feeling, I regain possession of my body, my soul and my pain. I would like to shout out my suffering, but I am as if paralyzed. My eyes do not open. I can't make any movement. I feel as if I am in a body that no longer functions, that does not belong to me. But I can hear everything.
- The heart has started again. Encephalogram OK. No pupillary reaction. Multiple fractures. Probably cranial haemorrhage. She's in a deep coma. Run her every Glasgow tests. I'll let her friend know she's in a critical state.
Diego. It must be him. I'll fight for him. I'm gonna get through this. I'm going to live and make the man who sent me here pay.
Chapter 3
Yekun
With my dermograph in hand, I trace the lines with application, following the lines I have sketched with the pen without ever deviating. My art is not an exact science, but a painting where the body becomes a work of art. I never imagined I would have my own tattoo parlour. It is thanks to Azazel that I am where I am today. I arrived on his doorstep in the middle of the night, like all the fallen ones before me. I smile as I recall his statement: being fallen is not a fate, but the beginning of a new life. I couldn't agree with him more. After all, I pushed the Ultimate Leader to banish me knowingly. I knew I wouldn't regret it. And I still don't, two centuries later. How could it be otherwise? I keep my mind closed as much as I can, and the vibrations of my device allow me to forget the voices the rest of the time. I hasten to finish the trace on my client, who does not move an inch. I prefer this to clients who whine throughout the session, complaining that it's painful or that it's taking too long. No, I'm not a magician! A tattoo is done with needles that penetrate deep into the epidermis. Besides, I can't draw a dragon in thirty minutes. I'm a fallen angel, not the superhero on TV who's as fast as lightning! On the other hand, I fly. That's better, isn't it? Except that the average person doesn't know it and that's just as well. I have no desire for lost souls to come knocking on my door for help. If I've done everything I could to be fallen, it's certainly not to do it again once on Earth. Anyway. It is precisely because I owe Azazel so much that I hurry to finish with the man lying on my table. My friend asked me to do him a favour. Although I found his approach a little strange, I agreed to his request. I couldn't see myself refusing him. I just hope he knows what he's doing.
The woman named Mallory stares at me without moving. I can see the fear shining in her pupils. Azazel explained her friend's phobia to me. I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see her right now. More than a phobia, it is a relentless struggle against breathtakingly painful memories that is playing out before me. Azazel taught me to close my mind in order to live among humans. However, I cannot shut off strong emotions and there is none more powerful than fear and anger. Mallory is feeling both right now. Yet I can see that it's not directed at me. So I give her time to adjust to the new data. After all, many people are put off by my appearance. I am tattooed all over. My arms, neck and legs. Not a patch of skin is left out. Only my back has not been inked, as it is already covered by the representation of my wings. Against all odds, Mallory chooses to trust Azazel, and thus me, in turn, and hesitantly steps forward to kiss me.
- Nice to meet you.
Her little voice is quite pleasant. The arrival of Caitlyn, and now Mallory, in our testosterone-filled group is a blessing. It changes the conversation a bit. I love my brothers. However, in the centuries we've known each other, I needed a little change. Abaddon and Kasyade have already told me a lot about Mallory and I was looking forward to getting to know her. The evening is very pleasant. We talk, we joke, like at any family reunion for real. To a stranger, we are a classic group. No one would imagine that the most powerful people the earth has ever borne are gathered in this room. Azazel asks us in turn about our plans. He comes to me last. My plans are simple: to expand my tattoo shop.
- I'm going to hire a new tattoo artist and a hostess.
Mallory's curiosity overcomes her apprehensions. She has relaxed during the evening and doesn't hesitate to ask me questions.
- Do you have a tattoo parlour?
Ha ! If she asks me about my baby, I'm not about to shut up. Angel's Ink is my most prized possession and I am extremely proud of it.
- For many years, yes. It was I who inked Azazel's skin.
As well as Abaddon's. However, I'm sure she's only interested in the first of the Fallen.
- They are very well done. Especially the wings on his back.
Azazel warned me that she knows nothing of our nature. I'm not going to lie to her, though. I've never drawn angel wings. Not even once. Even when a client comes to me with this request, I refuse. Angel wings are not decorative. If you're not born with them, why add them? I guess I think that way because I've never considered them a blessing. I prefer to deflect the conversation, although I suspect the answer to my question.
- And you, Mal, do you have any tattoos?
She shakes her head sharply, making her hair fly in all directions, and opens up to me without fear.
No offense, but I knew a man who had both arms tattooed and he hurt me a lot. I've associated your art with my pain for a long time, so...
She doesn't need to say any more. I understand her pain. It echoes in my head, as it does in the heads of my brothers who unconsciously wince. All except Azazel and Baraqiel. For Baraqiel, I understand. Since he's been linked to Caitlyn, he's only felt his wife's emotions. For Azazel, however, I am more puzzled. He is in love with Mallory, that much is obvious. Yet he doesn't seem to be touched by her distress. However, I wish Mallory would look at the tattoos in a different way. I have seen how the young woman strokes Cerberus. That dog may be impressive, but he always melts the ladies.
- You know, it's not the tattoos that do the bad things, but the people who wear them, just as a dog is not born evil, but can become evil because of its owner.
I see Mallory thinking about my words. She is smart. She knows her fear is irrational.
- You're right.
I'm glad to see that, although her fear is still there, she puts it into perspective. I can even ignore it now that Mallory is putting it in the background. I'm really glad I helped her even though I know she still has a long way to go. Azazel then continues the conversation.
- Do you also tattoo damaged skin?
That's a strange question for an angel who can't be hurt.
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