by Randi Darren
Picking up the radio off her lap, Stacia clicked the button.
“Sam’s going to whammy someone for their vehicle. We’re looking for a heavy duty SUV,” Stacia said. “Can’t stay here and these vehicles are likely being looked for. Over.”
“Understood. I’ll turn off into that neighborhood and we can check homes as we go. Over,” responded Decima.
The turn signal on the sedan blinked to life.
“We can pack Hillary into the trunk if we get a nice big SUV,” Irene said, as Stacia started to follow the sedan into the neighborhood. “She can rest there while we get out of this. Or at least far enough away for a portal opening.”
Sam nodded his head to that.
The simple reality was they were a bit too reliant on portals. Without them being available, it severely limited their mobility.
I’ll need to make sure we somehow shore that up. One way or another.
Maybe find some Druids who can shapeshift into flying creatures.
Or some Dragons.
Something that can fly us out while someone else makes us invisible.
Just in case the portals fail again.
“—about that one? It’s big. Looks like a damn Suburban,” Irene said pointing out the window.
“Definitely. I like it. Let’s have Sam go hit the owner up for the keys and we’ll get moving,” Stacia said, pulling up next to the curb in front of the home they were targeting. Stacia picked up the radio and clicked the button. “This one. Over.”
Sam only nodded and went to the door. Opening it, he got out and started heading over to the front door.
Looking at the big SUV as he walked past it, he realized it’d actually work out rather well for them.
The front door opened but the screen door in front of it remained shut before Sam had even gotten to it.
“Get the fuck off my property. Not interested,” came a gruff voice.
“Ah, but you don’t even know what I’m selling,” Sam said, continuing to get closer.
“Get-the-fuck-off-my-property,” repeated the man. The sound of a gun being chambered punctuated the demand.
Holding his hands up, Sam kept walking until he made it to the front of the door.
“You could shoot and kill me, friend, and then hear everything the nice policemen have to say to you about that,” Sam murmured with an easy smile. “Or you can hear my pitch, and then I can leave.
“Personally I think I’m the easier option between the police. Because then the news would want to get involved. And I can only imagine what kind of things they’ll drudge up about you and your family.”
Sam figured this man wanted his peace and quiet enough that he’d allow it to be disturbed by Sam.
Rather than everything else that would come with murdering Sam.
“It’d be self-defense,” argued the man.
“According to you. But to everyone in the RV watching? Not so much,” Sam said with a chuckle. “So, hear my pitch?”
“You got ten seconds, boy,” growled the man behind the darkened screen door. Sam still couldn’t see much of them.
Checking a mental sigh, Sam nodded once.
“I’d like to buy your big SUV out there. Willing to pay top dollar for it or something else in trade,” Sam said.
“Don’t need nothing, don’t want your money,” said the man. “Now get off my—”
“No,” Sam said and jerked open the screen door as quickly as he could.
Before the man could pull the trigger, Sam snared him with his eyes. Mentally smashing the man into the deepest recesses of his own head at the same time.
“Get me the keys. I’ll send you cash for the vehicle in the mail. You agreed to sell it for one hundred and five percent of the book value for the car,” Sam commanded, holding the man’s eyes. The glamour he was laying on the man was so heavy and thick that it’d be visible to others.
Thankfully, Sam got the impression this man might as well have been called a hermit.
“Okay,” mumbled the man in a slow voice. Then he wandered off into the house.
Sam followed the man inside.
Five minutes later, Sam had the ownership slip for the car along with signatures signing it over to him and the keys.
Decima and Hillary had already opened the SUV and were rapidly filling it with all of the supplies and equipment they wanted to take with them.
He had no idea how they’d managed to get it open, but he was glad they were already ahead of him.
“Got the keys, we’re ready to go,” Sam grumbled. The man in the home was a splendid example of all the reasons why people had to be careful of others. He was a powder keg waiting to go off on some poor unfortunate soul.
“Great, Hillary’s already in the back with Mitch,” Decima growled. “And Mitch should be listening to Aunt Decima right now and pulling that vest over his head.
“It’s too hot. And it stinks,” complained Mitch though Sam couldn’t see him.
“Mitch? Sweetie? Please put the vest over your head?” Stacia asked as she walked up with a box.
“Okay,” Mitch said.
Decima looked annoyed at the fact that he listened to Stacia but not her.
“I’m driving,” Carissa said moving into the driver’s position. “I’m the most rested and honestly I’m probably the only one trained in high speed chases. I was a cop, remember?”
“I’ll take shotgun,” Sam said.
“My gun’s up there. You can use it,” Hillary said from the inside. She sounded weary.
But she was at least conscious, which was more than he’d expected from her after he’d tapped his reserves.
Stacia’s blood is strong.
Moving into the passenger seat, Sam reached over and stuck the key in the ignition. Then he put the paperwork in the glovebox.
At his feet, he saw a small compact SMG. It was indeed Hillary’s.
Looking in the side-view mirror, he watched as Irene finished up the spell she was working on. The RV and the sedan simply vanished as soon as she completed it.
Okay. Either she sent them to launch with such force that they vanished, or she’s blocking the view of them before she does that. And—
There was a “poom” like noise. Dirt and gravel chips spread out in a small shock wave from the point where the vehicles had stood.
Jogging back to the SUV, Irene clambered in. Fitting in next to Decima and Stacia.
“We’re good. Those’ll land somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico,” Irene said and pulled the door shut. “Or maybe South America. Somewhere.”
“Wonderful,” said Carissa with a grimace. Starting the car, she put it into reverse and got them rolling.
And almost immediately came to a complete stop.
Staring in the rearview mirror, her single eye was opened wide.
Looking backward, Sam saw something there he really didn’t want to.
A bright silver and golden tear in the middle of the street. It was rapidly becoming wider and longer by the second.
“Go!” Sam hissed. “Go now!”
Carissa jammed the gas and they bounced down out of the driveway.
Slamming the whole thing into drive, they squealed and roared forward.
It lasted for about a second before the whole SUV came to a shuddering stop.
“Halt right there,” boomed a voice from behind them. “We must speak.”
“Stay in the car, don’t let him see you,” commanded Sam. “Don’t say anything either. If you get a chance to drive away, do that.”
“What? What is it?” Irene asked
“It’s a gods-damned Archangel of the Silent One,” Sam said opening the door. “And there’s not many of those left. And if it’s who I think it is, I’m going to get my ass kicked.”
Stepping out of the SUV, Sam slammed the door shut. Walking to the back of the car, he could already see a brilliantly bright white wing sticking out.
Don’t be the Swordsinger. Just… don’t be the Swords—
Rounding the end of the car, Sam found a seven foot tall man. Built more like a statue, with ripped muscles, a golden breastplate, and some type of robe that flowed down to his ankles, the man was something out of a storybook.
Bless my twisting nethers, it’s not the Swordsinger.
“What do you want?” Sam asked jumping straight to the problem.
“How dare you address me as if I were some mortal,” proclaimed the Archangel. “You’re nothing but a lesser planar being. I will serve you your own spleen on a platter.”
“No, thanks,” Sam said and lifted the SMG up he’d carried with him out of the car.
Holding the trigger down, he unloaded the entire clip into the man’s face from point blank range in several seconds.
Blood and gore began spraying out in every direction as the Angel’s face crumpled under the storm of rounds.
Sam turned and sprinted the short distance to the car door.
Yanking it open, he tossed in the SMG and hauled himself in quickly.
“Go, that’s not going to—”
Sam was physically yanked from the car and thrown across the street as if he were a rock.
Bouncing several times, he clipped the curb and went up several feet into the air only to land in someone’s front yard.
“Lesser being! You dare harm me in such a way,” shouted the Archangel stomping after Sam.
Freed of whatever hold the man had on the SUV, the spinning tires suddenly had traction again and Carissa and company zoomed off.
Good.
Now to just escape myself.
“I will tear your soul from that avatar and carry it personally to darkest part of the afterlife. Where those who can never be forgiven dwell!” shouted the man.
Giving himself a firm shake, Sam got to his feet. Clawing up a hand of dirt and grass as he did so.
In the same movement his wings appeared and spread out behind him. Letting go of his Human facade, Sam spread his arms out and readied himself.
“And that’s just where a demon such as you belongs, filth,” declared the man as he reached Sam.
“Yeah, well. Been there, done that,” Sam said. “I’m a lover first though, fighter second.”
Whipping his hand around, he scattered the soil across his opponent’s eyes and face.
“Gah!” shouted the Angel, immediately brushing at his face.
Gathering himself, Sam pumped his wings and leapt into the air.
Fuck that. Not fighting an Archangel.
Flapping wildly, Sam began to gain altitude quickly.
A chunk of pavement tore through his wing and ripped it apart.
Screaming from the pain, Sam fell back to earth.
Slamming into the road.
“You’re a truly pathetic excuse for a planar being,” accused the Archangel.
“Yeah, well, like I said. Not a fighter,” Sam said in a groan. Getting to his feet. The Angel was walking toward him once again.
Fine. Fine, then.
A fight.
As soon as the Archangel was within arm’s length, Sam threw out two jabs. Followed by a right hook after they both connected to the man’s chin.
Leaning in low, Sam planted a deep body shot into the Archangel’s ribs. Lifting the man momentarily off his feet.
Each blow had been landed while implanting a small splinter of Essence at the same time.
“And what do you think you’re doing? This is—”
Snatching hold of the splinters with his control, Sam expanded them. Made them bigger and bigger till they were almost too large to control anymore.
Screaming, the Archangel’s jaw literally tore from his head and his stomach billowed out, his guts shooting out like a can of silly string with a hole in it.
Hollowing out the center of those massive pipes, Sam slammed a scorching amount of his own Essence into the Archangel.
Then ripped it all back out.
A glut of Angelic Life Essence flooded out of the man. Spewing out in every direction and spraying the area liberally.
Sam gorged himself, of course. Choking it down as fast as he could and stuffing it into every part of his being.
The Archangel stumbled away from Sam, a bright light infusing him from head to toe.
When it faded the man was once more unharmed.
Whole.
“That was… that was impressive. Little planar demon,” said the Archangel with a great deal more respect in his tone now. “I’m going to kill you now.”
“Mm. I’ve heard that before, you know,” Sam said flexing his hands. He was filled to the brim with Essence he hadn’t tasted in centuries. “In fact, I’m pretty sure the Archangel Valis said the same thing to me. Before I tore his head off and ate his brains.”
“Valis? You… you killed Valis?” asked the Archangel in a hollow whisper.
“Yeah. That was after I bedded his daughter though,” Sam said. It was all true of course. It was one of the reasons Valis had come after him. “She’s an amazing Nephilim. In the sack, at least. She really knew how to work her hips. Better than you fight even.”
Screaming wordlessly, the Archangel came at Sam again.
Lifting his hands up, Sam waited for the next attack.
A brilliant blue bolt of Angelic Smiting came zipping toward him instead of any physical attack.
Gritting his teeth, Sam swatted at it with some of the Angelic Life Essence he’d taken.
With a bang, the crackling Holy Attack zoomed off into the sky, bouncing off the stolen Essence. Then it began to sink toward the horizon. Coming back down to earth.
Sorry whoever that hits. It’ll be like a bomb going off a—
Shrieking, the Archangel tackled Sam and lifted him up off the ground. Slamming him down to the ground, he sat down on Sam’s waist and leaned back to begin raining blows down him.
Before the second strike had even started, Sam thrust his hips upward.
Yeah, let’s get on top of the sex demon like you’re riding me.
Idiot.
Catching his balance with one arm to the ground, the Archangel lifted his right arm to start punching again.
Sam simply pushed his arms out as well as his legs, throwing the Angel off balance again. And straight down into Sam.
Wrapping his right arm around the Archangel’s head, he held on tight to him.
“I’m g—”
Ignoring his opponent, Sam reached down with his left arm, grabbed ahold of the Archangel’s foot, and pulled.
At the same time, he thrust with his hips and pushed with his feet.
In a flash, Sam had the Archangel on his back, his wings flapping awkwardly against the asphalt.
Using his left hand, Sam made a blade of Essence and drove it into the Angel’s guts. Six more stabs rained down before the Angel blasted Sam off him with a massive explosion of Angelic Essence.
Hitting the street and sliding for a few feet, Sam winced in pain. But when he got back up to his feet, Sam was grinning.
Using a piece of the Essence that sent him flying and was still floating around everywhere, he repaired all the damage caused to him.
Good to be a planar being.
“Next time, I’ll start off on top,” Sam said with a dark chuckle. “You’d make a better bottom than I ever would, I bet. Just not in my tool set I’m afraid.”
Shambling to his feet, the Archangel was bleeding heavily. There was even a trickle seeping down from the corner of his mouth.
“You ready for the second round?” Sam asked, the knife made of Essence still held in his hand. Converting it into something that would give him range and a shape he was familiar with, he molded it into a sword.
Holding the tip out toward the Archangel, Sam laughed.
“Because I am. After I’m done, maybe I’ll eat your heart,” Sam said. “Valis’ brains only gave me so much power. I bet the heart would have done more for me.”
And after, I might be able to actually take Aster on in a direct fight
and have a better than fifty-fifty chance.
Licking his lips, the Archangel looked determined to fight to the death.
“So be it,” the Archangel growled. Standing up, he held his hand out to one side and a blazing silver light coalesced into a sword of Holy Flame. “I’ll take your head from your shoulders and complete my task.”
“You can try,” Sam said, holding his weapon up with a smile. “Got any daughters, by the way?”
With another scream, the Archangel charged Sam.
Twenty-Three - One and One -
This’ll be more like fencing than a sword fight.
Gritting his teeth, Sam held his thin blade of Essence out in front of himself.
As soon as the Archangel got within range, Sam lunged forward with his blade while simultaneously taking a step backward with his rear foot, allowing him to step out of range as he retracted.
Catching the man low in the guts, Sam felt a modicum of satisfaction in the strike.
Making an odd “snrk” noise, the Angel tripped over himself and went to one side. Getting his blade up in front of himself, he was clearly rethinking the whole situation once again.
“You could always leave,” Sam offered. “No one knows you’re here and I sure as hell don’t want to be here. Leave. Or let me leave.”
“Spawn of evil!” called the Angel. “There is no backing down from the worst things. One must confront them!”
“Uh huh. Well, come on then. Looks like I need to take a few more chunks out of you,” Sam said, tipping the point of his blade toward the Archangel.
Breathing hard, the Angel continued to bleed down his front. The wounds he’d taken were no longer being healed.
Thank the darkest part of my asshole that Angels all weak to Essence attacks.
A faint shrieking noise slowly rose in volume.
Frowning, Sam didn’t want to look away from the Angel but, in the same breath, he needed to move. The noise was coming from behind him and he really didn’t like that.
The more he thought about it in fact, the more it sounded a lot like a Spellbound Wraith.
Looking at the Angel, Sam thankfully found that his foe seemed to be as confused as he was.
Taking a number of steps to the left, Sam put his back to the house he’d gone in earlier and his side to the noise.