Immortal Alliance (IMMORTAL ALLIANCE SERIES Book 1)

by A. Catherine

  I slid out of the booth and walked out of the diner, which had since emptied out, leaving me as the last to leave. As I stepped onto the dark street, I looked up to the sky to see dark clouds beginning to cover the light of the moon. I could smell the rain in the air, only a few minutes and I’d be drenched.

  It’d be much faster if Kale winnowed us back to the warehouse. But after our talk in the diner, I knew that wasn’t an option.

  So I tightened my bun and stretched my legs before taking off into a jog back towards the warehouse district.

  A town sign told me where we were. Sudbury, Ontario. Canada.

  No wonder it was so cold here. Just as I was passing through downtown again the rain started. First as a sprinkle and then as I reached the edge of the town towards the city road I had originally came from, it turned into a full downpour.

  I could see my breath as I continued running down the side of the road. Thinking about what Kale had said in there.

  Religion is an illusion. He wasn’t wrong about that, I used to believe that. I knew it to be just a way for people to make sense of the world and the universe in ways they could comprehend.

  It puts you in a box and tells you that your confinement is a blessing. That’s what I did, wasn’t it? I put him in a box and decided that that was who he was. Maybe he was right, I was being biased without a real reason. I wasn’t trying to, but inevitably I had judged him. And I didn’t give him a chance before doing so.

  I made a mental note as my skin felt heavier from soaking in the rain. I would give him a chance; I would give them all a chance. I’d observe and remain as open-minded as I could.

  After that, after I was fully convinced that he genuinely could be trusted, after that—I would apologize to the Prince of Darkness.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Kale

  YOU’RE SURE LETTING IT bother you a lot.

  Seere said internally while I was punching the concrete wall. She was sharpening her favorite double-sided blade. She had been waiting for me at the warehouse when I returned from my thrilling late-night experience with Heather.

  Naturally Seere realized right away that I wasn’t happy, no longer in the good mood that I’d left her in. She questioned me about the experience, and I just let her see the whole memory. I immediately wrapped my hands and began working my fists on the wall.

  I didn’t even bother looking at her when I responded. It’s fine, Seere.

  I could hear the ring of the metal as she ran it with the stone, sharpening its edge.

  That’s a big ‘ole pile of horseshit fire-boy, and you know it. What I wanna know is why. This isn’t the first time you’ve been judged for your name. Hell, we’ve heard a lot worse in the past. So why are you letting a dumb human get under your skin? Seere asked.

  Forgive me if every once in a while I get upset when someone hates me for no logical reason. I sneered.

  I punched again, hard enough to crack the wall.

  I felt her vibrant chuckle ripple through my blood. Gabriel hates you. And you don’t seem bothered by that, actually you seem to devour it like it’s candy.

  Feathers actually has a good reason for his prejudice. He was there during my last blowout remember?

  I smiled at the memory. That was a dark time in my life, and I had paid the consequences. I’ve managed to keep myself under control since then.

  Gabriel was there, yes. And he gave me enough of a fight to spark my interest. I’ll have to provoke him hard enough one of these days to settle the score. But it wasn’t the time for that.

  My tether remained on Heather during her run back to the warehouse, I was completely aware of where she was. I didn’t feel the overwhelming need to watch her in person, in-fact, just thinking about her made me grind my teeth.

  It was with that tether that I sensed when she finally reached the warehouse. And when she unlatched the door to walk in Seere whipped her head to her. Heather was soaking wet and shivering from the downpour outside. But I didn’t care.

  She walked in and closed the door behind her and glanced over at us. Sure I could’ve winnowed us both back here after we’d left the diner, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that I wanted her to suffer a little bit for her unfounded prejudice.

  To give Heather credit, she didn’t shy away from me and Seere’s sharp gazes as she strutted past us.

  Seere was itching to say something snarky, instead, she just stared at Heather pointedly for good measure. The sight of it threatened to break through my resolve, I could have laughed at it.

  It was juvenile, and hilarious. But when I looked back at Heather our eyes met, and that hot fury tasted like coal as it burned my throat.

  Heather held eye contact, and dare I say her eyes betrayed her by showing signs of regret for the things she said before. She eventually turned away and slunk upstairs to dry off.

  Seere snorted, making me look at her. “After all this alliance shit is over, you want me to kill her?” she asked, half-serious.

  I chuckled, “Tempting. Ask me again when the alliance shit is over.”

  A column of light flashed and then Duma and Daevas appeared in the pentacle. They spotted us and immediately made their way over to our side of the room.

  “Where did you just come from?” I asked, mostly towards Daevas.

  Duma was the one who answered though, “We visited some Scribes in Beijing.” He lifted a few pieces of parchment. “This is all we could find on the Eternals. Not mention of the relics, but they had those symbols on them. So maybe they mean something.”

  I took the parchment from him and looked down at it. It was a timeline, outlining the first creation and some of the first things created during that time. Including the formation of earth and its surrounding planets.

  I sighed, “I don’t know how much this will help, but it can’t hurt to factor it in.” I handed it to Seere, who read it over some. She wasn’t as fluent in the angel languages as the demon and human ones.

  Duma crossed his arms and remained a generous distance from the rest of us. Daevas took some glances around the room, observing his surroundings as though he hadn’t been here hundreds of times.

  “How’s Heather?” Duma asked simply. Seere did her best to suppress her chuckle but both of them noted it. The twitch of my brow probably didn’t help either. “What happened?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

  I sighed, bored. “She decided to make a run for it earlier, don’t worry I reeled that fish back in. I would suggest being aware that she’s a flight-risk,” I said.

  Daevas smirked slightly as he watched me speak. That demon never missed a thing.

  “She’s got a rebellious streak.”

  I shrugged. “A stupid one more like.”

  Duma looked up at the open archway towards where Heather had left, and then back at me.

  “Not enjoying your own protective detail, Prince?” he asked, a knowing smile on his face.

  Even though the angel might’ve just been trying to include himself in their humor. His implication didn’t miss its mark.

  “I can handle it,” I stated.

  I kept my expression neutral, but Dumdum read between the lines.

  “Would you prefer Gabriel resumed as her Guardian, if it is bothering you so easily?” he asked.

  Oh, this bastard is asking for it.

  Seere chimed in, “As much as the human would probably love that, let’s not forget that you angels have a tendency to overreact.”

  Duma snorted. “The Heir Inferno seems to be on a hairline trigger himself.”

  “Would you like to go head-to-head with that trigger, Dumdum?” I challenged.

  Gabriel could hold his own in a combat with me. But this lesser angel would be easy to reduce to rubble. And I would enjoy doing it.

  Duma laughed. “You are just itching for a fight, aren’t you? I’ll pass. Some of us have to remain impartial and collected.”

  “I think he’s afraid to lose,” Seere giggled.

  If he g
ave in to our goading, I might’ve just let her have her fun with the angel.

  Duma tilted his head and smirked at her. The action of it was very demonic and interesting to see on an angel’s face. Then a knowing glint flashed across his eyes.

  “Not in the slightest, Jazar Danti.”

  The air in the room tensed, but not because of me. Seere’s eyes widened and then turned murderous. Her old nickname, the name she earned in the pit as a teenager when she fought her way from the bottom, taking down powerful demons and even putting some of the Fallen to shame.

  Dante’s Butcher.

  Not a name Seere picked for herself, but one she was forced to uphold. Lucifer had attached a spell to the name, had it inked into her bones to make it permanent. Whenever someone dared to invoke the name, she was compelled to accept the challenge regardless of her physical state.

  To challenge the Jazar Danti, was to ask for death, or brutal pain. Lucifer laid out the rules in the spell explicitly. Seere would have to fight with only her hands, but her opponents could use whatever weapon they desired.

  A fighter could only win when one of them yielded or if death claimed Seere’s challenger. But if Seere yielded, every wound she had every received, every scar—would reopen. And she would have to suffer all that pain again for a full twenty-four hours, before her healing would seal them up again.

  The only loophole given was that she would never die from her challenges or her wounds.

  My father was a cruel man, and he forced this on her because she and I bonded in the pit. With her help, I was finally able to defy his will. For thirty years following his punishment he placed Seere into the fighting pits, and every day as soon as she had healed from the previous challenge, he made one of his higher demons or one of the Fallen challenge her.

  He made me watch every fight as they tore her apart. It was punishment for us both. Eventually he let her out—bored of it. But the spell still remained, and even though demons in hell rarely challenged her after that, it still happened from time to time.

  But with an angel, Seere couldn’t kill them and they healed much faster than her. On her weakest days she would be forced to yield.

  But this was not one of those days. And Duma was invoking the challenge.

  “I see you angels know more about what goes on in the pit than you let on,” I stated.

  Even Daevas had tensed his entire body. He didn’t know Seere then, but after her release from the pits he made a point to know her. Especially when he knew what she meant to me. That was one of the main events that resulted in Daevas switching his loyalties from Lucifer to me. Though, there was still progress to be made there.

  Seere stood to her full height from where she was, crouched and stepped onto the sparring pads. She began clicking her knives and daggers off, tossing them to the side. Never breaking eye contact from the Spectral.

  She eventually freed all of the weapons and remained without them to aid her. She opened her arms towards Duma. “Shall we see how good your training is, shiny boy?” she asked with the lethal calm she only spoke with when she was gearing up for a bloody fight.

  Duma hesitated, shooting me a wary glance before he finally stepped onto the sparring pad. He was my height, standing a foot and a half taller than Seere. She scanned him up and down, assessing his weak spots.

  “No weapons? You know you’re allowed to use them,” Seere said.

  Duma widened his stance and raised his fists. “I’m best at hand-to-hand. Seems only fair to be on equal ground anyway.”

  Seere chuckled darkly. “Among monsters like us, there is no such thing.”

  She closed the distance between them and sent the first punch, he dodged it with his forearm and countered it with his own upper cut. But she spotted it and caught his wrist before it connected with her chin. She spun and flipped him over her tiny body, using his weight against him.

  He hit the ground with a grunt but didn’t miss a beat as he swung a low kick, knocking her down as well. She went with the backwards motion and got her hands underneath her in time to catch herself and instead swung her legs over through a back handspring, kicking his chin in the process.

  Duma reared back for a moment, but lunged back in. Punching her in the gut before her arms lowered. She grunted, blocked the second jab, and turned to elbow him in the nose.

  It connected with a sharp crack, but Duma got ahold of her elbow and twisted the arm behind her back.

  Before she could get out of it, he slammed his feet to the back of her knees with a sharp crack and she dropped to the floor. Seere threw her head back, connecting once again with his nose, and he let up just enough that she was able to twist. She led with her back and hooked a turning leg around his neck and dragged him down.

  But he was fast. His knee bent forward and slammed into her skull hard. She reared back and didn’t react fast enough when his other knee repeated the action. Her lip split open on her teeth, and blood began to pour.

  His legs flipped her around, and then Duma was on top of her, punching without holding back. She blocked a few, but not all. She let down her guard so she could grab around his neck and his shirt, and tightened. Using his own shirt to choke him. While trying to get her off he rolled to the side, and she didn’t hesitate.

  She shoved her head into his nose again, and then released him, putting some distance between them. She panted but sucked in air quickly, venting as trained. Duma coughed and slowly stood. Blood dripping from his nose down to his mouth, but it had already begun to heal.

  They smiled at each other, then both rushed back in. They both punched, blocked, and lunged. At one point Duma sent a solid fist into her open side, and she kicked him right in the balls. But the angel didn’t falter, sending another jab towards her face. She caught it and twisted his wrist, and we all heard the small crack that resulted.

  He winced and shoved into her stomach hard enough to send her flying onto her ass. She landed and raised her legs over her head and back to propel herself back onto her feet. Then she took off into a sprint towards him and leapt to wrap her legs around his neck. She twisted and released, flinging him across the mat into the ground.

  A flash of light on the other side of the room signaled someone’s arrival.

  “Ooh, what I miss?” Lillith chirped.

  Iaoel and her quickly joined us, watching Duma and Seere spar.

  “What’s going on? Why are they fighting?” Iaoel demanded, worry laced in her tone.

  I looked at them. “Duma invoked the challenge,” I replied.

  Lillith chuckled, a hand on her hip. “I always loved to watch the butcher brawls.”

  I glared at her, she responded with a wink. I turned back to the fight, neither still backing down, but I knew Seere was getting tired.

  She would never admit it, but fighting an angel required more energy than with the demons.

  But she had fought worse.

  She had him on the ground again, pounding his head against concrete. Snarling with her teeth. He kicked her in the stomach, and it took the breath from her. Duma didn’t stop while he was ahead, he jumped and kicked again, throwing her back. Then he spun and kicked her head twice with each foot as he soared in the air. She stumbled back.

  He lifted his leg and kicked her stomach again and again. Each time she stumbled further and further back. She was choking and gasping for air with each blow, unable to recover fast enough to block them.

  Come on, you’ve done better than this. I urged internally.

  I felt her hiss back. Bite me, fire-boy.

  Duma spun and kicked again, and the force threw her to the ground. And then his knee was on her neck, the other holding her legs down and his arms locked hers tight. When she struggled against him, he jerked.

  Seere cried out as one of her arms broke with a loud crack.

  She was seething. As she puffed for air she spit out blood on the concrete. She couldn’t get out of this, he had won. And now she could only yield.

  “Duma,”
Iaoel warned sternly.

  Duma’s sharp face turned towards the Angel of Sight, and then recognition flashed through his eyes. He wasn’t thinking about what her yielding would do to her, he was solely focused on winning. Which is why he didn’t hold back, and why he had gotten the upper hand.

  But what I didn’t understand was why Seere let him? I’d seen her fight much stronger opponents with less strength and succeed.

  Duma turned to gaze down at the wrath demon, his brows still tight in focus, but his expression was softening.

  “I’m going to yield,” he said to Seere.

  She growled, and it was the voice of her demon form that spoke, “Don’t do me any fucking favors.”