Procession Of Broken Hearts
Chapter VI - Concrete Angel

The Halls of Damnation
No POV

Relentless evil dances dauntingly against the menacing shadows of sadistic intention. Callously – sickening to any decent heart – the treacherous angel unfurls his sticky webbed wings, soaring through the frosty air, tearing mercilessly through the innocent night.
A cloak of crimson billows against the hours of darkness; a bloody gash on the harsh darkness.  Moonlight flickers in the angel’s silver eyes, skimming his ivory cheeks and lie-tainted lips.
Reaching the West Tower of the Halls the angel skimmed the edges of the open window as he glanced through it, halting before an ash-coloured throne-like chair, the only furnishing in the room.
A hooded figure occupied the throne, his face hidden beneath the black hood of his cloak. He raised a hand and clicked his fingers softly. The ruby curtains glancing the window frame fell across the open window instantly, blocking the night from view.
The angel knelt before the throne, his ice white hair brushing his shoulders.
“What has she said, Zach?” The figure in the throne addressed his brother calmly, almost wearily.
Zach raised his head slowly, his mouth twisting into an evil smile.

Shadow Quay
Oliver’s POV

As I have only just found my soul mate, my master has allowed me a week or so to settle in Shadow Quay before launching into the whole ‘hey, I’m you’re guardian angel, okay?’ speech thing.
Wandering along the corridors earlier with no idea of where to go, I bumped into Rosetta. We both turned out to be in the same class. Neither of us said much but she smiled at me apprehensively across the classroom and I felt…strange. I think I was almost happy.
I smiled back and she looked away shyly, hiding behind her fringe as I did so often.
I could sense that she was troubled, I didn’t know why, but behind that brave face she was so broken inside. I knew better than anybody. I felt just the same. And as her guardian angel I was going to hold her together and never let her go.

The Halls of Damnation
No POV  

“Niamh.”
The bruised, young soul mate lifted her head hastily to Ira’s gaze, her eyes scared, and her expression curious.
“You have been talking to Zach, haven’t you?”
Niamh’s expression grew agonized, and she backed away from her angel in fear.
But he was too fast. She blinked – and he was there, right in front of her. His hand shot out and locked around her throat; throwing her against the wall. She gasped in pain.
“Ira, please…I-“
“What did you say to him?” Ira’s voice was scarily calm.
“I-I didn’t say anything to him, Ira, I just-“
“You showed him the bruises.”
Niamh lowered her head. “No…I…I didn’t, Ira. He noticed them himself.”
“Why were you talking to him?”
“I was lonely…I wanted to talk to someone.” Niamh whispered, insolent bravery suddenly rising in her voice for the first time ever, stunning both herself and Ira. “Why is that so wrong?”
Suddenly Ira struck Niamh across the cheek; backhanding her so viciously she spun through the air, crying out as she tumbled into the stone wall at the back of the room.
Niamh looked up at her angel, her eyes huge with pain and terror. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and tears spilled across her flushed cheeks. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.
Ira was staring at his hand in horror, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. It wasn’t that he regretted it; just that he’d had no idea that he possessed such strength.
Niamh’s heavy breathing echoed through the Halls, as she lay crumpled beside the ebony-black fireplace. Her angel glanced over at her, before making his way toward his fragile young soul mate. She gasped slightly as he crouched in front of her, lifting her to her knees, taking her face in his cold fingers, forcing her to look at him.
The angel simply gazed into her deep blue eyes for several moments, stroking his fingers across her pink cheeks.
“Niamh,” He whispered softly, thumbing the tears away from her eyes gently. “You know why I did that, don’t you?”
Hastily, Niamh lowered her head. “Yes.” She whispered shakily.
“Good. You must realise your faults, Niamh. You have to be aware that you cannot go wandering around these Halls, spilling out secrets to the first angel who happens along.” His hand shot out swiftly, catching hold of her wrist and squeezing hard.
Niamh whimpered in pain, her pretty face twisted into a picture of hurt, both physically and emotionally. Ira leant forward, his lips beside her ear.
“Because if you ever betray me again, or dare speak to me as you just did,” He whispered softly, tightening his grip on her wrist. “I will kill you.”
He moved away as he felt her nod feebly. “Okay, then.” Ira studied Niamh’s horror-stricken face with a bemused expression. “Hey, don’t look so scared, Niamh. You have been punished enough, and now you can forget about it.”
Still keeping a firm grip on her slender wrist, Ira pulled his soul mate toward him, catching his lips upon hers. She whimpered slightly but let her angel run his fingers along her neck, kissing her face gently. In truth, she was confused at how Ira could have such a split personality. It scared her so much.
And yet no matter how terrified Niamh was of Ira, she loved him so badly. She deserved the pain for betraying her angel. He was so forgiving. If only he could know just how much she loved him. And then maybe, just maybe, he would love her back.