“I didn’t quite catch that,” whispered Vortigern, settling his head down near Imorean’s. The demon commander’s hand rested on Imorean’s neck and he flinched.
“No,” said Imorean firmly.
“No?” asked Vortigern, his eyebrows rising and the smile slithering from his face.
“No,” replied Imorean, shaking his head. “I won’t give you the coordinates for the schools. I don’t know them.”
“I think you do,” said Vortigern, spinning the small knife between his fingers.
“I have no idea,” replied Imorean, shrugging. He shivered as Vortigern took hold of his chin.
“Tell me, Imorean, is your squad, is Michael, really worth protecting? Being tortured for? Dying for?”
“They all are.”
“Oh, Imorean, did you really have to look this gift horse in the mouth?” asked Vortigern, pressing the point of the knife against Imorean’s neck. Imorean could feel his own pulse beating against the metal. His breath hitched. He was trembling. Vortigern was going to cut his throat. Already, he could feel his own blood spilling onto the floor, his throat cut from ear to ear. Those sharp teeth flashed again as the commander smiled. The demon moved.
Imorean cried out in sheer terror as he felt the skin from his temple to his jaw burn away beneath the searing metal and blood well up to the scorched wound. A dizzying sensation invaded his head and Imorean’s world started to spin. He felt ready to be sick. He hadn’t been slaughtered. Injured, but not killed. Vortigern smiled and pulled one sharp-nailed finger away from Imorean’s jugular. Imorean choked back a sob and trembled, his throat dry.
“Punch a man in the stomach and he will not realize you have stabbed him. There’s more than one way for me to get this information out of you. It’s just so much easier when you glorified pigeons choose to work with me. I can torture you for weeks, but so often it makes no impact on you angels. It’s fun for me though. Demonization is such a long process, but in your case, it may be worth it,” said Vortigern, removing the knife from Imorean’s cheek.
“D—demonization?” asked Imorean, his awareness coming slowly back to him. He remembered that Haroel had touched on the subject of demonization. All he could recall from the lecture was that it was the process of changing an angel into a demon.
“I’ve always wanted to do it to an Archangel,” said Vortigern, pulling away for a moment. “Come on, it’ll be fun. For me.”
“It won’t work,” said Imorean, shaking his head. Vortigern crooked one eyebrow and Imorean decided to continue. “Archangels can’t be demonized. It just doesn’t work.”
“You’re bluffing,” said Vortigern, shaking his head. “Honestly, Imorean, do you think I was born yesterday? I might not act like it, but I’m as old as Mikey. Don’t try and play me for a fool. I held Uriel captive for several months. I know exactly what I am capable of. I’ll have to break your mind for the demonization process anyway, which is a bit of a shame. If it works, you’ll be completely under my power I’ll have gained something with the power of a nuclear bomb. If it doesn’t, you’ll be just as useless to Michael as you are to me.”
“Wait,” said Imorean, buying for time.
“Sorry, Imorean,” said Vortigern, grinning. “I don’t make offers twice, but then again, you already knew that. No sense in wasting time, is there? Let’s begin.”
Imorean’s mouth ran dry as Vortigern reached toward him, one hand landing directly in the center of his forehead. Imorean’s eyes rolled up into his head and his vision flashed black, red, white and green. He felt as though he was floating as he fell backwards onto the stone floor. His soul was leaving his body. It had to be. His body was too hot. It was burning from the inside out. Fire lashed through his veins, boiling his blood away to simple vapor. Imorean opened his mouth in a silent scream, his body too rigid to produce sound. He was dying. He was certain of that. He was dying.
Everything stopped. Imorean could open his eyes again. Where was he? Deep inside, he knew that he was still lying on the rock floor in the cell with Vortigern, but his mind was elsewhere. For the first time since he had woken up he was free to move. Quickly, Imorean stood up and looked around. It was nighttime and he noticed that he was standing on grass. He was in a field? Imorean swallowed hard and looked around. He could smell trees. A forest. Everything was dark, but some distance away, he spotted some figures standing around what looked like a large bonfire.
“Hey!” called Imorean, waving and running over toward them. “I was wondering if you could tell…”
He slowed to a walk, then to a halt. The figures weren’t standing around a bonfire, they were standing at the edge of a cliff. Beyond the edge, red and orange flames were leaping upward into the sky. He could feel the heat from here. Imorean peered over the edge of the cliff. The base of the fire burned hundreds of feet below. Where was he? Now that he was closer, Imorean was able to make out the figures. He recognized some of them. One of them was Vortigern, looking up and scanning the skies with contempt. There were a few demons on either side of him. Most were bigger and bulkier than the commander, but seemed to give him a wide berth. Imorean was confused. Despite the fact that he was very close by, the demons took no notice of him. It was as though he wasn’t there at all.
“They aren’t coming,” said Vortigern. “I knew Michael wouldn’t bend for Imorean. The boy must have worked himself into a storm by now. I can only imagine the little brat’s fury. He’ll have nothing left to lose now though.”
Imorean frowned. Vortigern already had him. They had no reason to wait for him.
“Bring them here,” said Vortigern, turning to a cluster of demons nearby.
“No,” said Imorean aloud as he saw the silhouettes of five people being manhandled toward Vortigern.
“He’ll come,” said a confident voice. It was a voice he thought he would never hear again. Imorean leaped forward. That was his mother’s voice. He had never had the chance to say goodbye. Whether he had traveled back in time or this was a fever dream of some kind, Imorean knew he had to try to change what had happened.
“Mom!” called Imorean, running across the grass toward her. He stumbled when he saw the rest of his family being brought forth from within the crowd of demons. His grandparents, Rachel and Isaac. They were all there. Imorean picked up and ran onward, reaching his family and breathing a small sigh of relief.
“Please don’t do this,” said Imorean, stopping between Vortigern and his mother, desperate to change the outcome now that he had been given another chance.
“Imorean will come to help us,” said Amelia, causing Imorean to turn.
“I’m here,” said Imorean, turning to his mother. “Can’t you see me? I’m right here!”
“I highly doubt that,” said Vortigern, walking within a hair’s breadth of Imorean. “He can’t go anywhere without Michael and regardless, their time is up. I gave them five minutes of extra time just to play in your favor. So, who wants to take the swan dive first?”
“Mommy,” whimpered Rachel from her position near a demon’s feet. Isaac was sitting near her, his face streaked with tears.
“Rach,” said Imorean, running to her and kneeling down next to her. “Don’t worry. I’ll find out what’s going on. I’ll figure out how to stop this. I’ll get you home. Okay?”
“You are beyond help,” said Vortigern, unsheathing his brutal, curved sword. “How about you, old man? You’re head of the family, aren’t you?”
Imorean turned to see Vortigern addressing his grandfather.
“Stop!” shouted Imorean. “Just stop for a moment. Let me think!”
There was still no reaction.
“Let us go,” said Imorean’s grandfather, William, standing at his full height. “We have no part in your war.”
“Oh, yes, you do. You all have such huge parts yet to play. You particularly, Old Man,” said Vortigern, flicking the blade of his sword with his fingernails. The metal hummed menacingly and black flames licked up and down the blade.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said William.
“I think you do,” said Vortigern, taking a step closer. “Spread your wings, soldier.”
Imorean watched as his grandfather looked at the rest of the family in apology, then flared a set of massive, brown wings. Imorean’s mouth opened in shock. In the middle of his horror, a wave of betrayal swept over him. Why had his grandfather never mentioned anything?
“I knew it,” said Vortigern, smirking. “Angel runs in his blood. You were part of their early projects, weren’t you, Old Man? Sent you into Vietnam, didn’t they? One of Raphael’s medical teams.”
“I never imagined Michael would come after my family again. I had no further contact with him after I left the school.”
“Well, he did,” said Vortigern, grinning. “And now I finally get to kill you. The first blow against the little Archangel.”
“When Imorean finds you, you will be made to pay for what you have done,” said William.
“Your foolish little grandson? He’s playing his part to perfection. It’s his love for all of you that I’m banking on. If I can’t use it now, I can use it later down the road. I couldn’t be less terrified of Michael’s little protégé. It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic,” hissed Vortigern, approaching William, his sword raised to shoulder height.
“Please! Stop!” shouted Imorean, as Vortigern rested his sword point under William’s chin. None of his cries were reaching anyone.
“If you don’t move, I will move you,” said Vortigern. “I’ll make sure Imorean receives your last words.”
“Leave him alone!” screamed Amelia, shaking off the demon holding her.
“I’m getting to you,” said Vortigern, looking away from William for a moment. His gray eyes were blazing. “Wait your turn.”
William moved quickly, grabbing the blade of the sword and yanking it from Vortigern’s grip.
“Dad, don’t!” shouted Amelia, making to move forward. She was grabbed hold of again by three demons.
Vortigern sighed in what seemed like long suffering exasperation as his own sword was leveled at his chest. In a flash of black, Vortigern moved around his sword, kicked William directly in the hand, caught his tumbling sword and plunged the blade clear through William’s chest.
“No!” shouted Imorean, feeling as though he was the one who had been stabbed. His own cry drowned out Vortigern’s laugh and the screams of his family members.
“I’m not a Prince of Darkness for nothing,” said Vortigern with a laugh, walking toward the flames and pushing William backward with the hilt of his sword. Imorean could see blood on the blade glimmering in the firelight. He could vaguely make out his grandfather grappling feebly with the handle, trying to pull it from his chest. His brown wings were fluttering weakly.
Vortigern pulled the sword from William’s lifeless body, leaving him to tumble backward into the fire.
“Now,” said Vortigern, turning back and cleaning his sword blade. “Don’t tell me anyone else is going to try this. I love seeing spirit and fight in a person’s last moments, but I really don’t want to play games tonight. My patience is just a tad too thin.”
“Why are you doing this?” asked Amelia, her voice shaking and her face streaked with tears. Behind her, Rachel and Isaac were reaching for each other, trying to gain comfort from one another. Imorean’s grandmother, Leanne, was quiet. Shocked into silence. Her eyes stared straight forward, empty. Imorean choked on his sobs as he watched more demons march forward with his grandmother. This couldn’t be happening. If only they could see him, if only they could hear him. If only he could do something.
“A little leverage. It gives me the edge over your son. Besides, it’s fun,” said Vortigern. He looked at the demons holding Leanne and snapped his fingers. Leanne barely moved as they walked her toward the inferno.
“No! Mom!” shouted Amelia, struggling against the demons who held her.
“You know, Amelia,” said Vortigern, sheathing his sword as he walked to her. He stopped just short of her and placed one hand on her cheek, softly stroking. “It’s your fault really. All of this is your fault. If you had stopped Imorean from going with Gabriel at the end of the summer or if you had killed Gabriel when he dropped off Imorean or if you hadn’t gotten romantic with Gabriel I would let you go. But not now. You just hold too much value for me to simply forget about. You’re in too deep.”
As Leanne was thrown into the flames, Vortigern held up his other hand silencing her screams and the roar of the fire behind them. The only audible sound was the terrified sobbing of the twins and the awful calm in Vortigern’s voice. Imorean collected himself as best he could, hoping to find some information in what Vortigern was about to say.
“You can’t possibly say you have nothing to do with the angels. You are obviously their supporter. Now, I’m going to be merciful and give you a choice. Do you want to see your children die or do you want them to watch you die?”
“Don’t make me choose that,” said Amelia. “Please don’t make me choose.”
“I love it when humans beg,” said Vortigern, smiling. “Pitiful, soft, weak creatures that you are. So, Amelia, what’ll it be, your children first, or you?”
“Stop this,” hissed Imorean, knowing he wouldn’t be heard. “I know what the outcome is already. Just stop.”
“Let’s toss the kids in,” said Vortigern, smiling. The demon commander circled around behind Amelia and placed a hand on her shoulder. He settled his chin on her other shoulder. “I hope you enjoy what you see.”
“Enough!” shouted a voice that rocked the world around them. Imorean looked up. Vortigern seemed to be the only one who heard it as well. An unnatural stillness settled on everything around them. Everyone seemed to freeze in place. Vortigern was the only one who moved. The demon commander shook himself, as if throwing off an irritating fly and turned to Imorean.
The gray eyes narrowed as Vortigern stepped away from Amelia. “You heard that as well?”
“You could see me?” snarled Imorean. “All this time, you could see me?”
Vortigern smiled and shrugged. “It was fun for me. I thought you’d like to see this for yourself. Quite the little spectacle.”
“I’ll kill you,” growled Imorean. It was the second vow of murder he had made in the last twelve hours. “I swear, I’ll kill you.”
“Cute,” replied Vortigern. “Did you enjoy seeing your grandparents kick the bucket? From the looks of them it was high time. I wish I could have shown you what I did to your little siblings. Little Rachel and Isaac.”
“I said enough!” shouted the voice again. Imorean looked around again. Suddenly, emerald green flame cut the scene in half as though it was a piece of paper. The surroundings fluttered into nothingness at Imorean’s feet. All around him now was darkness and void. The only other living thing was Vortigern. The demon commander had his sword out. His sardonic smile had dropped and he looked scared. Imorean spun. White cracks split the darkness. Vivid, green flames erupted from the ground and Vortigern leaped into the air, hissing like a cat.
“Holy fire,” whispered Imorean, smiling slightly as it passed under his feet. It could not burn him.
“Get out!” shouted Vortigern, hovering.
“I said enough. You didn’t listen,” said a figure, appearing from the void of darkness. The style of walking was familiar, as were the fully flared double set of emerald wings that matched perfectly with the color of the flame beneath Imorean’s feet. The only thing that momentarily threw Imorean were Michael’s eyes. Instead of pale emerald, they were vivid and glowing, doused in green flame.
“Michael,” said Imorean in a quiet voice.
“You shouldn’t be able to be here,” snapped Vortigern.
“You forget who I am, Vortigern. I am more powerful that you give me credit for. I know your precise location. Your hands are resting on my blood. With that knowledge, I have every ability to invade your head and command your visions,�
� said Michael, smiling and stopping next to Imorean. “I swear to you this, Vortigern, I will kill you. Or perhaps I will allow Imorean to do the honors. You have caused him enough grief.”
“Get out!” cried Vortigern, diving from his hover and reaching for Michael with his sword. The Archangel though, was no longer there.
Imorean turned quickly, feeling Michael’s presence on his other side. Before he could speak to the Archangel, Michael reached out with two fingers and touched them to Imorean’s forehead.
Chapter 24
Imorean’s body arched upward off the floor from the strength of his inhale. He felt as though he hadn’t breathed for hours. He lay still for a moment, catching his breath. What had just happened? Nothing quite made sense. He felt as though he had just woken from a dream. A terrible, horrible nightmare. Imorean groaned and rolled onto his side. His hands were free of their bonds, but his wrists were bleeding heavily from where the thin, wiry cord had cut through the skin. Gritting his teeth and gathering his senses, Imorean managed to climb up onto his hands and knees. Sounds of scuffling made him look up and Imorean furrowed his brow in horror at what he saw. Vortigern was still on the ground. His body was racked with spasms and he was seizing wildly. His eyes were wide open, staring sightlessly ahead. One eye was clouded gray, the other blazing green. Imorean flumped backwards onto his rear and stared at Vortigern. What was he doing? What was going on? Imorean looked up as he heard shouts from above. Was that the sound of metal on metal? There were pained, agonized screams and something that sounded disturbingly like an explosion.
Imorean swallowed hard and picked up the knife Vortigern had dropped on the floor, careful to avoid the blade. He could dwell on this later. Right now, it seemed that he had a perfectly good distraction and opportunity to get away. Carefully, he used the small knife to cut through the bindings on his wings. Imorean swallowed as he saw dark, black marks on the white plumage. They looked like burn marks. He hoped they wouldn’t scar. He had enough black marks on his wings already. Imorean tucked the knife into his boot. He may need it later.
Angels Defying (Angels Rising Book 3) Page 19