The guards made us empty our pockets, which contained nothing interesting, and once we passed the guys with the metal wands, we were free to rejoin Umar. “Security is extra-tight lately. There have been death threats against the prime minister.”
Death threats against a dead guy. Interesting.
We took an elevator up to the second floor and walked down a long tiled hallway. When we passed two glass double doors, Reuel grabbed my arm to stop me. Inside was a group of people gathered for a meeting.
My attention pulled like a magnet to the death at the head of the table. It was the prime minister. And his being dead wasn’t the most interesting thing about him—a glowing purple haze swirled around him.
Before anyone saw us, we moved out of the way of the door. I looked at Cassiel since as a general rule, she always knew more than the rest of us. “What was that?”
“That was a dead guy in a purple cloud and an angel,” she said.
“An angel? I was too distracted by the dead guy to even notice.”
“I didn’t get a good enough look to see who it was. What is that purple fog?” she asked.
“I was hoping you could tell me.” No more keeping the secret now. “Samael is in northern Italy investigating a few human souls who carried that same purple fog across the spirit line, except not so bright. Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Never.”
I looked over at Umar, who was watching us carefully. “Is there anything weird about the prime minister other than the angel he’s working with?”
“Yes…” He visibly swallowed. “I think the prime minister is dead.”
A chill made me shudder. “Why? You can’t see human souls, right? Only spirits.”
“Because I’ve known Saare Kelifah for many years. Whoever is here now, is not him.”
Just then, the conference doors opened, and the men who were inside filed out. I looked at Reuel. “Do you have a plan?”
He held up both his fists.
“At least one of us is prepared.” I let my power build and sizzle at my fingertips as the men dispersed in the hallway. The prime minister and the angel I hadn’t noticed were not among them.
Umar nudged me forward. “You might not get another chance to catch the Prime Minister alone. You should go in now.”
“If we take him out, can you make sure the food and supplies get to the people?”
“Yes. Without Kelifah in power, I will take his place until another election can be planned.”
I offered my hand. “I’m trusting you, Umar.”
He shook it. “I’m happy to do what is right for my country.”
“Stay out of sight. No one needs to see you involved in this,” I said.
He nodded, then took off down the hallway.
Reuel went first. Cassiel and I were right behind him. A third man had stayed behind with the prime minister and his aide. When they saw us, the aide—the angel—said something to the man, and he left quickly.
The angel’s back was to us, but he stood and slowly turned around. I didn’t recognize him, but Cassiel grabbed the back of my shirt. “Moloch,” she whispered.
The fallen Archangel of Knowledge.
The prime minister stayed in his chair, but from this distance, I could get a better look at him. His dark skin was ashy, more gray than it was black, and it had a waxy quality, almost like it was made of plastic. When he looked at me, I saw sparks somewhere in his eyes. The body was dead, for sure, but there was some form of a human soul present.
“Cassiel,” Moloch said, his voice deep and even. He tucked a cell phone into the inside pocket of his gray suit jacket, then buttoned the front. He was about my height, broad-shouldered, and appeared to be in his late forties. The body he occupied wasn’t his own. A fact that thankfully weakened him. He wouldn’t likely pick a fight with us.
He could, however, outsmart us all—probably even Cassiel.
“Hello, Reuel,” Moloch said.
Reuel didn’t answer, but his fists were still clenched, ready for a fight.
Moloch offered me his hand. “And we haven’t had the pleasure of being introduced. However, one look at you tells me you’re Azrael’s son. Hello, Warren.”
I knew better than to touch him. Instead, I let my power dance in my palm as a warning. He smiled, and it was so bright and perfect it creeped me out.
Cassiel stepped closer to the prime minister for a better look at him. “Moloch, what have you done?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Moloch asked, his voice mockingly melodic.
She leaned closer to the prime minister. “Who are you?”
The man (I think?) looked up at her. “My name is Saare Kelifah, prime minister of the great country of Malab.” His voice was flat, almost robotic, like he’d been programmed to respond.
Cassiel grabbed the man’s hand. “Who are you really?”
His eyes pressed closed, and he twisted like his entire upper body was being wrung by an invisible hand. “Haile Menelek,” he choked out.
She released him and took a step back. “Haile Menelek,” she echoed.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“He was the leader of Malab during the famine in the early 1980s. Azrael killed him and banished him to Nulterra. History is repeating itself,” Cassiel said, her voice full of something alarmingly akin to wonder.
I looked at Moloch. “How did you do this? Human spirits can’t cross back into this world.”
“Oh really?” His wicked grin deepened.
Cassiel stepped toward the prime minister again, and he flinched away from her hand. “Where is Saare Kelifah?”
The man’s eyes rolled in different directions as he focused on her face. “Saare Kelifah is dead.”
I pushed up my sleeves. “Then he won’t miss his body.” My power surged as I took a step toward the prime minister.
I paused.
“What’s the matter?” Cassiel asked, her voice laced with panic.
“I want to see his spirit. If it’s really him, his spirit will have Azrael’s mark. But if I use my power and it’s not him…”
“The spirit will still have the same mark,” Cassiel said.
I patted my hip where I’d always kept a weapon when I was human. Now, there was nothing there. I also didn’t want to use my bare hands to kill him. Maybe I could—
“I’ll do it.” Before I could react, Moloch produced a semiautomatic handgun from inside his suit jacket and fired a round through the prime minister’s temple. The man slumped sideways over the arm of his chair.
I flinched with shock.
“You’re welcome,” Moloch said.
A siren blared through the halls.
I turned to Moloch just as Reuel’s fist connected with his stunned face. He flew backward into a bookcase, rocking it sideways and collapsing two of its shelves. Books spilled out onto his head as he fell to its base.
Before he could pull himself up, Reuel grabbed him by the lapel of his suit jacket and hauled him to his feet. Moloch swiped away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth onto his sleeve.
“Warren, look,” Cassiel said.
I turned back toward the prime minister. The spirit of a man who looked nothing like Saare Kelifah, the real prime minister, stood slowly. Then he looked at me, smiling. His whole form swirled with the purple mist, and in the center of his chest was the mark of the Archangel, just as I’d suspected.
I held up my palms facing each other and conjured the power of the final death. Unlike any of my other powers, it looked like a smoking black hole suspended between my hands.
Cassiel took a step back. “You can do that here?”
“Of course I can.”
“Is it a good idea?”
“Don’t want to risk him getting out again, do we?”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but it was too late.
My hands shot forward, releasing my power. It exploded inside the spirit with so much force it shook the building and blew out t
he windows. The purple seemed to catch fire and burn away in a flurry of tiny ruby sparks.
A wave of insane nausea hit me, and I staggered sideways. Cassiel grabbed my arm to steady me, curling one arm around my lower back. My head was spinning.
“You know, you really shouldn’t inflict the final death here on Earth,” Moloch said from where Reuel had him pinned against the wall.
I covered one eye with the ball of my hand to stop the spinning. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“He has a point,” Cassiel said quietly. “Inflicting the final death this side of the spirit line could have consequences. There’s a reason it’s forbidden.”
“It’s obviously not forbidden now that the power is mine.” The queasiness was easing, but my head was pounding. “Besides, it’s got to be better than the alternative.” I turned toward Moloch.
He was smiling over Reuel’s shoulder as I closed the space between us. “Will you destroy me now too, Warren?”
I opened my right hand and conjured my killing power into it. While I couldn’t destroy him permanently, I could separate him from his body.
Reuel slammed him against the wall one more time and moved out of my way. Moloch tore open his white shirt, exposing his smooth black chest, then spread his arms wide and laughed.
My power landed hard in the center of his chest just as Cassiel screamed, “No!”
Light fragmented Moloch’s body with fissures, like cracks through an eggshell. Suddenly, they detonated, sending blinding light through the room with another thunderous boom.
The lifeless body crumpled at my feet, its eerie smile still cemented in place.
I spun toward Cassiel. “Why did you scream?”
“That was exactly what he wanted.” She clutched my arm. “He didn’t even put up a fight.”
Before I could process what she was saying, a small army ran into the room, weapons drawn. They looked at us, then at the bodies of the prime minister and his aide. Moloch’s body was in bloody pieces. The prime minister’s eyes were open and lifeless.
I sidestepped in front of Cassiel as the men opened fire.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been shot. That checkbox had been ticked off back in Iraq when I was still with the Marines. And under a hail of gunfire was how I’d died the first time. This wasn’t exactly new.
But getting hammered from two assault rifles and two handguns all at once was something else. The pain actually drove me to knees. And the Malab soldiers were no respecters of persons. I was sure Cassiel took almost as many rounds as me, especially after I fell in front of her.
Reuel was taking most of the heavy brass as the logic of the guards was simple: aim the big guns at the big guy. Still, he was unfazed enough to use his force to disarm one of the shooters and sling the assault rifle through a glass case along the wall.
Finally, the gunfire ceased. My arms were braced against the carpet, barely holding my body upright. I looked around for Cassiel. She was on the floor behind me.
“Are you all right?” I reached for her, then swore in pain, crumpling forward again.
“God, that hurts.” I wondered if He could hear me nearby. I glanced down at my shredded shirt, and my head swooned, not in a good way.
“Warren.” Cassiel’s tone reflected the concern on her face. Her eyes were fixed on my head. If the pain radiating from my skull was any sign of what she saw, my head was splitting, maybe literally.
Gently touching my forehead, I felt a hole. When I pulled my fingers away, they were bloody. “Well, shit.”
The soldiers looked on, petrified with fear, as I sat back on my heels. I pushed my hair back. Then I pinched my nose closed, took a deep breath, and tried to blow the air out of my closed nostrils.
My left ear popped.
Then my right.
Then a 9 mm bullet squeezed out the inside corner of my left eye. It plopped out onto the floor and rolled across the hardwood.
One man cried out in horror.
Reuel was grinning a few feet away.
I squinted and shook my throbbing head. “That’ll hurt for a while.”
I’d felt the larger bullets from the assault rifles tear straight through my torso. They ripped through flesh, muscle, bone, and what would have been vital organs had I still been human.
And I hadn’t gone to the floor simply because of the pain—though that was definitely part of it. A bullet had destroyed my left knee. Thankfully, the round was something smaller than a 5.56. Otherwise, the healing situation would’ve been a hell of a lot more complicated.
I forced myself to stand, and it wobbled underneath me. Something ached in my lower back; I suspected a round was lodged in my spine.
“This,” Cassiel said, pulling herself off the floor. “This is why I hate coming to Earth.”
“You get shot a lot over in Europe?” I asked, pulling up the front of my shirt to inspect the damage.
“Shut up, Warren.”
Two more bullets slid out of oozing holes in my chest and stomach. One from between my sixth and seventh rib on my left side. The other from just beneath my right collarbone. They toppled to the floor in a splash of blood and lung tissue.
Then all the holes, all six of them that I could see, closed slowly. I swore.
“What’s the matter?” Cassiel asked, holding her hand over a bloodstain on her side.
“Everything’s closing.” I twisted my spine. “And I still feel brass in my lower back.”
The guards were finally starting to regain their mobility, but panic was setting in. They were yelling at each other in their language and waving their guns around in the air.
Cassiel was checking the holes in her outfit. “They want to know what kind of body armor we’re wearing. And that guy is calling me a witch.”
When she pointed, two of the men cowered back in fear, dropping their weapons in surrender. The other two lit us up again.
With a painful yowl, I limped my way forward through the wall of bullets. I grabbed the end of the rifle first and yanked it out of the man’s hands. Flipping it around, I used the butt to break the nose of the guy still firing his 9 mm at me. Then I swung the rifle like a baseball bat to knock the final guy off his feet.
The two who hadn’t shot at us a second time ran and crawled screaming from the room. The man on the floor scrambled back toward the door. And the guy with blood pouring out his nose had passed out cold.
I walked over and stuck my finger through one of the holes in Reuel’s chest. “That hurt?”
He shoved me sideways, then held up his middle finger. “What’s with you falling to the floor like a crying tiny canine?”
My head swirled around. “Like a what? I’m trying to be offended, but I have no idea what you said.”
He spoke in Katavukai.
I laughed. Then I doubled over, laughing harder until the bullet pinched a nerve in my back. I straightened and patted Reuel’s shoulder. “You need to work on your English, my friend. The phrase is whiny little bitch.”
“That’s you.” He pointed at my face. “Whiny little bitch.”
“Crying tiny canine is a hell of a lot funnier.” As my laughter faded, I looked over at Cassiel. “You OK?”
“All the bullets are out, but I need more clothes again,” she said, pulling Fury’s bloody tank top away from her stomach.
“I think we all do,” I agreed.
Reuel grabbed my arm so hard I winced. Then I spun toward him and saw his worried eyes. “Something’s wrong.” His hand covered his face. “The guardians at Echo-5…” He tapped his forehead and stumbled over his words. “They sent me a message.”
The phone in my pocket rang out with alarm bells. Miraculously, it hadn’t been hit by the spray of bullets. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was an auto-generated warning from the security system called Ahab in Iliana’s building. The message made my throat tighten.
Atmospheric Breach.
Iliana was under attack.
Chapt
er Eleven
The journey back to Asheville took less than a second, but it felt like an eternity. Inside the breach, I searched for my daughter’s spirit and couldn’t find it—a good sign. If she was hidden from me, she was still hidden from those who might hurt her.
We came in too fast through the spirit line and landed hard in the front yard of Echo-5. Normally, it would have been no big deal, but that was before all the cartilage and bone in my knee had been shredded. And before a bullet was lodged between my L3 and L4. Stars twinkled in my eyes at the impact, and I went down on my injured knee.
Reuel hauled me to my feet. Searching the darkness, I took a step forward, and blinding pain seared through my spine and leg again. Bones were harder to heal than flesh, and sooner or later, that bullet would have to come out. I didn’t have to be a prophet to know pain would be in my future for a while.
But no time to worry about that now. My eyes, darting from side to side, spotted nothing out of place. Still, the property was buzzing with supernatural activity. It was so strong, gooseflesh rippled my skin. But I didn’t see anything anywhere. “Reuel, think you can brighten this place up?”
With a grunt, he stepped in front of us and held both hands toward the sky. He whispered something even my keen ears couldn’t hear to whoever was watching in the auranos. Then a streak of stars brightened, illuminating the grounds.
“Where are your guardians?” I asked him, looking around us. A unique power to the guardians who were in spirit form was the ability to camouflage themselves from other angels.
“Kavalar, nikal tiyar,” he said.
Four hulking angels revealed themselves, standing guard at all four points of the building.
From the front, Echo-5 didn’t look like much, just a concrete block with rows of dark shuttered windows. In reality, even without its supernatural protection detail, it was probably the most secure building on the planet. It was made of steel, concrete, lead, and a composite metal foam known as high-Z.
A team of scientists had developed high-Z to be bulletproof and radiation proof. As an added bonus, it was also angel proof—making it more valuable than all the gems in Eden.
Beyond the building was a crater about the size of a football field where Azrael and Nathan were overseeing the construction of an underground bunker. When completed, it would be able to withstand almost any natural disaster, a nuclear war, or a full-on demon attack. Too bad it wasn’t ready tonight.
The Soul Destroyer: The Soul Summoner Series Book 7 Page 12