“What would happen if Daddy found out you’ve lost his favorite son? A spanking? Does he do it with his hand or does he use his belt? I bet it’s the belt—it is the belt. I knew it. I can see it in your face.”
Ruthus advanced. “I’m going to cut out that tongue of yours. No. I’m going to reach in that big mouth and pull it out.”
“Milo’s with your father, isn’t he?” Alexa leaned over ever so slightly, talking fast. “He played you. He’s not coming. He’s not coming because he’s with your father right now, having a good laugh at the lot of you—”
Ruthus shot forward, but Alexa had already leaped and snatched up her soul blade. She heard Anagar curse as she broke through their circle and came up from behind them, swinging.
She cut Anagar on the arm as he reached out to grab her. He pulled back, blood seeping through his leather bracer. The look on his face was pure hatred as he lunged at her.
Alexa sidestepped and felt him fall past her, to where she’d been standing a half second ago. She never stopped moving. She brought up her arm as Hadaz came swinging with his axe. The look in his eyes was murderous. He wanted to kill her. His axe met her blade, and she felt a sharp pain in her wrist, the muscles in her arms straining. She dropped low and kicked him hard in the kneecap.
Her pain paused for a second, long enough for her to see Hadaz hit the ground and rise again.
But someone sprang up behind her back and caught her wrist before she could move. Swinging around, she brought up her other fist to hit him, but he snatched it and clamped her wrists together with one hand. With his free hand Anagar stabbed her hand, pushing the tip of his sword all the way through it.
Alexa screamed and dropped her blade.
Anagar threw a kick that caught Alexa square in the chest and slammed her against the wall. She crumpled to the floor, dazed and senseless.
She felt her bones shattering as her body rose and then slammed onto the hard floor. Anagar kicked her again and again and again. She was crushed beneath a continuous wave of torturous agony.
She tried to fight him off, but he was too big, too strong. Even with her M-suit, she was no match for the large male.
Anagar stood above her. His face was red and covered in sweat, his features contorting until he looked beast-like. “I will beat you till he comes. Did you hear me, angel girl? I will. And if you die… I will still beat you.”
Alexa’s head snapped back as his boot connected with her face. She tasted blood in her mouth as the world around her blackened. She fought against the dizziness. She would not pass out. She felt as though she was she was being ripped apart from the inside out, and she thrashed, unable to out-scream the pain.
“If you kill her,” said Lance, “your brother will kill you. All of you.”
Anagar looked down at the dog, a gruesome smile spreading on his face. “Milo couldn’t even kill the rat that bit him once. He would never hurt his brothers.”
Through the throb of pain, Alexa knew she couldn’t leave. If there was a chance Milo would show up, she had to endure the beatings. She needed his help. She needed him…
“Milo,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
The beatings stopped suddenly.
“I knew she fancied him,” said Anagar, looking smug.
“She can’t fancy him, you fool,” said Ruthus. “She’s not a woman. She’s an angel.” He turned to look at her, his wide eyes rolling over every inch of her. “Everyone knows she doesn’t have the parts that the other women have. You know, the important bits.”
“Excuse me?” coughed Alexa, feeling suddenly exposed and totally grossed out.
Anagar’s face flushed as he grinned. “How do you know? Have you ever seen one without clothes? Maybe there’s nothing there… but maybe there is…”
Just when Ruthus made to move towards Alexa, Baruk stood in his way.
“Enough of this,” Baruk commanded. “We have more important things to do—”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said a voice behind them.
Brushing the hair from her eyes, Alexa turned her head and saw a tall, strong and imposing male angel standing next to Lance. His handsome face was set in a mask of cold.
“Touch her again, brother,” said Milo, as he unsheathed his spirit sabers, “and I’ll cut you to pieces and feed you to Father’s hounds.”
CHAPTER 7
BARUK TURNED. “OUR LITTLE BROTHER HAS finally decided to grace us with his presence.” His smile was cold and vicious. There was no brotherly love.
“Took you long enough.” Anagar glanced at Milo with disinterest.
“I was busy trying to clean up your mess,” Milo pointed out.
The warrior angel was still as strikingly handsome as ever—his strong jaw, angled cheekbones, and the richness of his golden skin. He wore the black CDD gear, the cloth cut close enough to his body to reveal broad shoulders, which flowed into lean, muscular legs.
Alexa hadn’t seen him since he’d walked into the black mist, right after he’d kissed her. She felt the flush rise up from her neck to her face at the thought of his soft lips crushing hers, of the desperation and passion that had been in that kiss. She would never forget it.
Milo’s mouth was pulled tight, and Alexa could see the barely suppressed anger in his stunning gray eyes under the thickness of his blond locks. She could sense something else in the angel warrior, a nervous tension that came perilously close to fear.
Alexa shared his unease. His clothes were torn and stained with blood, mortal blood. Then she noticed he favored his left leg and had thin white lines across his forehead, cheeks, and neck like cuts that had only just healed. He looked like he’d been in a fight.
Carefully, Alexa struggled to her feet. She felt the skin around her wound pull and stitch as her M-suit repaired itself. Lance was sturdier on his feet. Either his body had healed, or Milo’s presence gave him courage.
Alexa gazed around the Nephilim. They all shared the same loathing in their eyes for Milo. She tried to get his attention, but he wouldn’t look at her.
Baruk reached out and grabbed Alexa by the arm, hauling her forward with the tip of his sword pressed hard against her back.
“I knew you would come for her, little brother. You were always so predictable when it came to matters of the heart. Softer than a mortal, you are. Soft, sentimental, weak.”
“Being compassionate and caring for the well-being of others isn’t a weakness,” said Milo simply. “It’s strength. The mistreatment of others ignites a fire in me. It’s something you’ll never understand.”
“Perhaps not.” Baruk squeezed Alexa’s arm until she hissed in pain. “But from the look you gave this one in purgatory,” he said and shook Alexa, “I knew you’d come. I knew you couldn’t stay away while we played with your little pet. You haven’t changed, little brother. Even in death, even as an angel, your feelings get in the way. Your sentiments will get you killed.”
Milo’s lips became a hard line. “And I knew, since I was old enough to know, to really know, that I never wanted to be your brother.”
Baruk’s eyes darkened. “Such harsh words for your own family. You disappoint me, little brother.”
“Glad to disappoint you.” Milo was still, and his face showed no emotion. The only thing that moved was the glint on his spirit sabers from the ceiling light.
“I see that our punishments still haven’t healed.” Baruk’s voice was hard. “There is no remission without punishment. You should have killed that mortal child, and none of that would have happened. You could have been spared.”
Alexa’s eyes moved back to Milo, but he still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. What had they done to him?
“I’ll live,” answered Milo, “if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Baruk’s lips twitched into an ugly smile. “Oh, I’m not worried about whether you’ll live.”
Alexa thrashed in Baruk’s grasp. “Let me go, you beast—” she cursed as Baruk pushed
the tip of his sword farther into her back until she felt warm liquid trickle down her spine.
“Feisty little thing, for a dead girl,” laughed Baruk, his eyes on Milo. His brothers joined him in the laugh.
A hard scowl darkened Milo’s face. “Let her go.” He crossed his sabers in front of him like giant scissors and then uncrossed them, taking a step forward.
The other Nephilim all moved around Milo in a semi-circle, surrounding him, and waited.
Baruk smiled faintly. “Such a disappointment to Father,” he shook his head. “You were needed here, but you left. You abandoned your family to join the angel Legion, the deceivers, with all their ministers and archangels. There is only the need for one leader. A very great one, and you lied to him, to all of us. You never intended to fulfill your promise to him. To join him. It was the only reason he didn’t kill all your beloved angels when he could have—because you had agreed. You made a promise, and you broke that promise when you refused to kill the humans and raised your swords against us. If Hadaz hadn’t been foolish enough to let his guard down, you would have never escaped.”
Hadaz’s face reddened as anger flashed across his features. He seemed about to scream. “It was just for a moment,” he said with scarcely contained rage. “It’s not like you were busy doing anything. Why didn’t you look after him? Why is it always me?”
“Because it was your turn,” argued Ruthus. Hadaz snarled at him but left it at that.
“It doesn’t matter that he escaped,” continued Baruk. His breath, hot and sour, brushed against Alexa’s face. “Father knew you were going to betray him. He told me so, you see.” He squeezed Alexa’s arm painfully as if she was the cause of the betrayal. “Still, as his son, he wanted to give you one last chance. A last chance to prove your loyalty to him, to us, your kin.”
Alexa watched Milo as flashes of cool disdain and rage traveled to his eyes. Still, he wouldn’t look at her. She felt a cold, piercing pain inside that had nothing to do with the sword penetrating deeper into her flesh.
Despite herself, Alexa felt her mouth open, and the words tumbled out. “He’s nothing like you. You’re monsters. Freaks of nature,” she spat. “Milo doesn’t slaughter innocent mortals for pleasure. He’s not a killer.”
“He is a killer,” said Baruk, with iron certainty. “Just a different kind.”
“He’s not.”
“He kills demons, doesn’t he? Creatures of the Netherworld? And you kill demons too. You’re both killers.”
Alexa could feel Baruk’s anger bristling and sense his disgust, but she blocked it out.
“It’s not the same thing. We protect the world of the living from monsters like you.” She could feel the sharp coldness of the sword’s metal, her wound aching. The warm stickiness of her own blood dripped down her back and into her pants.
“Call it what you like, but it is the same.” Baruk cut a glare in Milo’s direction. “We’re predators. We hunt and then we kill. There’s nothing more gratifying than the sensation that comes with watching someone breathe their last breath. And Milo is no different. He’s a killer, our little brother. He just likes to hide behind his angel Legion to do it. He enjoys killing, just like we do. It’s because of his Nephilim blood. You can’t hide from what you are.”
A deep-throated growl rippled from Milo. “I was never like you.”
“Yes, you were, and still are, little brother, because the blood of our father is still in you. Even now, even in death, his essence runs through you, his favorite son.”
“When he hears about what you did,” interrupted Ruthus with just the hint of a smile, “you won’t be his favorite for much longer.”
“He can’t be his favorite when he’s dead,” added Anagar, showing his teeth and running a finger across his throat.
Milo’s voice was strained as he replied, “Like I said before, I won’t kill the innocent. Not for you. Not for Father. For no one. I will never be one of you. I despise what you are. I despise everything about you.”
Ruthus and Hadaz swore, Anagar’s face went taut, but Baruk laughed without humor and said, “You misunderstand me, little brother. We’re not here to try and persuade you. We already tried that. And quite frankly, I’m tired of trying. You see, little brother. We’re here to kill you.”
Alexa flinched. Her eyes traveled to Milo, who finally met her gaze. She could tell by the calm, solemn expression that he’d known all along this was no method of persuasion. He was aware they intended to kill him. But she also saw fear—not for himself but for her. He looked away.
She glanced at Lance, who gave her a tiny nod, the kind he always gave to encourage her to get ready to fight.
But Baruk’s grip on her was iron hard. With his sword still impaled in her back, there wasn’t much she could do. With the slightest movement, he would run her through with his sword. She needed to think. She had no idea where her soul blade was now, and it wasn’t as though she could turn around and look for it. Still, she couldn’t let Baruk run her through either.
“You can try,” said Milo, his voice cutting into Alexa’s mind. His confidence almost made her smile.
Baruk sneered derisively. “I won’t just try, little brother. I will kill you.”
Then everything happened at once. Baruk’s fingers tightened on Alexa’s arms, and she felt the blade inching forward into her body. She knew she had only seconds to react. So she did.
As Baruk made to impale her, Alexa flung her head backward as hard as she could. There was a crack, followed by a howl, and the hand that gripped her loosened enough for her to wiggle out of it. She felt the sword’s blade slip out of her back as she fell forward, and she pushed off with her feet.
She stumbled into a table and chairs, and her head knocked on the hard surface. Alexa felt the presence of someone, and nearly at the same time, she spun around and sprang to her feet, fists in the air. Ruthus stood right before her, his sword coming down in an arc above her head.
Alexa dove to the side, and she felt the stinging pain as his blade cut through her shoulder. But she never stopped. Stopping meant death.
She didn’t have a weapon, but Alexa was slim and quick on her feet. Ignoring the pain, she came up and twisted around, her shirt already sticky with her essence.
“I’m going to cut up that sweet angel body of yours,” said Ruthus, “and then stitch you back together, my angel doll.” His blade glimmered in the dim light. He was so close, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and the stink of his male perspiration. Sweat trickled down his forehead.
He lunged. As the sword came at her again, she ducked under it, coming up and around him. She hit him as hard as she could in the ribs, and Ruthus yelled as he backhanded her with his sword hand. Alexa fell back, the hit muddling her vision for a second. Ruthus hesitated, wincing in pain with his free hand on the spot where she’d hit him.
Alexa took a moment and darted a quick glance around. Lance scurried back and forth at Hadaz, chomping in quick succession at his ankles and legs while the big brute howled in fury. Hadaz swung his big axe at the dog but never touched him. She saw Milo heave Anagar and Baruk back, his swords swinging in lethal vengeance.
Alexa ignored the tumult around her and seized the calm within. The cacophony faded away as she focused on her training. She homed all her energy, her angel sense and instincts, towards Ruthus.
She saw only him. Not the man nor the mortal, but the monster and the killer. She realized at that moment that she wanted him dead. She was focusing her innate drive to protect all life and her deep hatred for demons towards the Nephilim.
With every fiber of her being, she wanted nothing else but to destroy them all. Some savage part of her wanted to kill. Perhaps Baruk had been right. She was a killer.
With a scream of fury, Ruthus sprang towards her, swinging his long sword in a great big arc over his head. In a cold calmness, Alexa unleashed her wrath.
The tip of Ruthus’ sword whistled as it came down, the blade mere inches f
rom her head. Alexa feigned right and whirled towards his other side. Still turning, she used his momentum to kick his legs aside as she swept his sword inward, impaling him with a mighty thrust before he hit the ground. Ruthus’ death howl shuddered in her ears.
In the grip of fury, Alexa reached down, kicked over the body, and wrapped her fingers around the black hilt of his sword. Her fingers were sticky with blood and slipped as she hauled out the heavy blade. For a moment she was surprised at how heavy it was. It was like no other sword she’d ever held. After she gripped it with both hands, she spun around.
Swift as a shadow, Milo lunged for Anagar, and in one brutal movement, he slashed his saber across Anagar’s throat. Blood sprayed Milo’s face as Alexa watched the light fade from Anagar’s gaze.
Milo stood staring down at the body, and a head that had the face of Anagar rolled to a stop next to his feet.
Two more bodies lay crumpled on the ground, pools of blood soaking into the carpet. She recognized Baruk. He lay on his back, staring blindly at the ceiling with a sword still in his mouth. Hadaz was a few feet away from his brother, half his throat missing with the rest torn to ribbons.
She saw Lance then, his golden eyes wide with a fierce wildness. His white fur was matted in blood, and fresh blood spotted his muzzle.
In a moment all was silent. Blood misted the air.
Milo’s face was smeared in blood, and his body shook with rage. He felt her gaze on him and looked up, his eyes dancing with fire. And then the fury went out of his eyes, and she could see sadness and pain reflecting in them.
He had killed his own brothers.
She always knew Milo struggled with his personal demons, and now the death of his brothers at his own hands would haunt him for the rest of his angel days. Alexa felt the anger coiling inside her and pushed it away with pure willpower. She hated these Nephilim now, more than ever, because of what they were still doing to Milo. Even in death, they managed to screw with his head.
The Lord of Darkness Page 6