by Tim Marquitz
Certain I knew where we were headed, I slipped past Rampage and picked up the pace. He chuckled behind me and matched me stride for stride. After a moment I reached Abraham’s office and opened the door. As it always did, the smell of old wisdom met me at the door, but I wasn’t there for that. The feedback on my senses told me I’d been right in my assumption.
Once inside, Rampage shut the door behind us and took up a position right in front of it. The werewolf the least of my concerns, my eyes swung toward the desk and saw Abraham uncomfortable in his chair behind it. He met my gaze with a palpable sadness that stole my breath away. I nodded to Abe and looked away to the skeletal figure beside him before his sorrow could infect me.
“Not pulling any punches are you?”
Azrael floated around the desk and drifted closer. “I warned you to stay out of the conflict, Triggaltheron, yet you persisted. You have only yourself to blame for what has happened here.” He gestured around him.
“That may well be true, but seeing how all life on Earth is probably gonna be wiped out in a day or two, I can live with my guilt that long.” The way things were going, I didn’t really think I’d make it through the day.
A rumbling laugh spilled from his blackened lips. “You are so much like your sire, defiant even in the face of overwhelming odds.”
“I’m nothing like my father.” Incensed at the comparison, the words spewed out like razors.
Azrael broke into a cadaverous grin. “You are, young Triggaltheron, you are. I see him in your face, in the spiteful fury that courses through your veins. Yet unlike him, you have no sense of ambition. You’re content to wile away your time amongst the pitiful humans as if they’ll ever accept you as one of them. You disgrace the glory of your bloodline.”
I spit at him, but Azrael batted it away with but a thought.
“Be grateful I hold your father in such high regard, little demon, otherwise I would have your soul for such impudence.”
My eyes flickered to Abraham, hoping I had his attention. We were only gonna get one shot at this. “You can shove that regard up your bony ass.”
The words out, I spun, pulling my pistol free, and went for Rampage. He needed to go if Abraham had any chance of getting away.
Caught off guard, the werewolf’s eyes went wide as he suddenly came face to face with the business end of the barrel. No time to aim, I squeezed the trigger like a madman.
An invisible force slapped the gun from my hand right then. The two rounds I’d managed to get off struck the wall just to the left of Rampage’s fuzzy head. They weren’t even close.
Rampage stood there wide-eyed and stiff-limbed as I was yanked off my feet and spun about. The room a blur, I felt gravity take hold again and I was rag-dolled onto my back, my breath knocked from my lungs.
When my eyes stopped spinning, I saw Azrael’s drawn out face just inches above mine. “There is no time for your childish heroics.”
A deep, gasping breath supplied me with enough air to answer, my voice hoarse. “What do you want?” It’s not as if I didn’t know, I just liked being difficult.
Azrael drifted back and I took advantage of the space and got to my feet. Abraham still sat in his chair, his glasses magnifying the sadness in his eyes. Everything happened so fast, he didn’t have time to budge, not that it would have done him any good.
“You well know what I want, Triggaltheron. Tell the wolf where to find Eve’s key piece and let’s be done with this.”
“I know what Marmaduke back there gets out of all this, but what’s in it for you?”
“My interests don’t concern you.”
“I’m thinking otherwise, seeing how you went out of your way to bring me here.” He obviously didn’t want to reveal his role in the bigger picture. Bad villain. He was breaking rule number one: the onus of the monologue is on the antagonist. Fortunately, Abraham was clued in.
“Like his lycanthrope minions, he stands to inherit the world.” Azrael shot him a murderous look, but Abraham kept going, undeterred. “His dominion death, Azrael has long since evolved from an angel to something far more closely related to the creatures that live in the shadows between worlds. When the Tree dies, he becomes a god; the only one left.”
The flames in Azrael’s eyes roared as he flew at Abraham faster than I could follow. He snatched him up by his throat and held him in the air before him. “Silence, mortal.”
Abraham’s face flushed pink as he tried in vain to breathe. His glasses hung from his ear, flickering under the fluorescent lights.
“Let him go,” I shouted as I took a step forward, digging deep to summon my magic, desperation giving me just enough spark to light the fuse. Rampage growled a warning close behind me.
“Had I not promised your father I’d respect his wishes with regards to you, I would eviscerate you where you stand.” He dangled Abraham before me. “I made no such promises regarding this pathetic creature. Now tell me where the key piece is or I’ll hang his lifeless husk upon the banner of your ill advised resistance.”
Even though he couldn’t breathe, Abraham’s position was clear. His reddened face screwed into a pained scowl, his eyes begged me to defy Azrael.
I thought of Rachelle. How could I tell her I’d let Abraham be killed, doing nothing to stop it? Yet, how could I not? I’d been willing to let Scarlett die on principle, believing the end of all life a greater choice than its submission. Once more my convictions were being tested. Should I stand in defiance and watch everyone I know die, or do I condemn humanity to enslavement, to be bred as cattle, food for the vamps and shifters? Was there even a choice?
My gaze shifted back to Abraham and he strained to shake his head, Azrael’s crushing grip limiting his motion. Tears moistened my eyes and threatened to drag them down. I forced them to stay with Abe’s and gave him a subtle nod.
“Like I told the bear, you can’t have it.” The words came out heavy, each syllable a nail hammered into the coffin of the greatest man I’d ever known.
Azrael’s mouth settled into a grim line, the fire in his eyes sputtered into blackened coals, which simmered in their sockets. “Impudent dog.”
Abraham stiffened and his eyes flew open wide. The purplish tint of his face began to fade, a pallor washing over him like the tide. He reached out for me, his eyes locked on mine, their green fading to white. His hand trembled, the flesh growing paler with each breathless moment.
Every voice inside my head shrieked for me to look away, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. His death was my burden to bear, and I would own every horrific second of it. The image of a marbled Abraham seared itself upon my memory, blackened veins standing out like serpents against his graying flesh. I’d see the terror in his sunken eyes until the day I fell into my own grave.
His hand fell limp, as if weary of waiting for mine, and his arm swung down and then ceased to move. His irises, cleansed of all color, he stared hollow-eyed at me until his head lolled back.
Azrael laughed at his passing, his callous tune the dirge that accompanied Abraham’s soul into the abyss. The angel released him and Abe’s limp body fell to the floor with the gentle grace of falling leaves.
My heart fell with him, shattering on impact, jagged shards tearing me apart inside. Tears burned my eyes and I looked away at last, the image replaying inside my head. Agony constricted my chest and I panted to draw in air. My knees shuddered, and then gave way. I found myself kneeling on the floor. Bile clogged my throat and I sat there numb. The voices in my head were silent except for one. A small, still voice cried in the depths-
— I killed Abraham.
A shadow at the edges of my vision, Azrael hovered before me. “Save your tears, Triggaltheron, you will need their comfort in the hours to come.”
A frigid hand lifted my chin and drew my gaze to his. In his swirling sockets, the flames swayed and danced, their flickering forms becoming the images of Scarlett, then Katon, Michael and Rachelle after that. Each image dissolving, rancid flesh pe
eled back into a skeletal grimace, his threat needed no words.
He leaned in close. “Your mentor spoke true of my destiny. I will live on forever, the new God. Though I have made arrangements to repopulate the Earth, should I fail to obtain the key piece, I would much prefer a verdant kingdom to rule. There is even a place in it for you, should you choose to reconsider the folly of your misguided allegiance and hand the key piece over.” His blackened lips pulled back into a smile. “Your father would be pleased to see you embrace your nature at last.”
My thoughts a maelstrom, I drew in a deep breath to steady the tremors that rattled through me. Azrael grinned, his arrogance weathering me as though I were a stone. Sickened by what I’d done, I stared deep into the fires of his eyes and made my choice.
I spit in his face.
Too close to swat it away like he had the last, the thick ball of phlegm struck him right between the eyes. His smile wilted and roared into a snarl as spittle oozed down his pale nose and cheek.
I never saw him hit me.
My chest collapsed as if I’d been hit by a car and I was whiplashed backward. The wall, built sturdy in the hopes of withstanding supernatural attack, spider webbed around me as my back sunk into it several inches. My skull snapped back and added its own impression to the mosaic, a carousel of lights spinning playful in my eyes. The rumbling in my chest was a clear sign something was broken.
Azrael was in my face before my vision cleared. “You have sealed your fate, demon, no matter my vow.” His words slithered over me. A watery blur of motion, I saw him float back. “Rampage, take him away.” He waved a hand, dark tracers swimming in its wake. “Keep him sedate until I return, but keep him alive.”
The werewolf growled a reply and I was yanked to my feet, my chest screaming in protest. As the pain washed over me, I became more focused. Able to see a tiny bit better, I saw Azrael glowering at me as he stood over Abraham’s body. The old man looked peaceful, if nothing else.
“Soon, the Nephilim will lay dead upon the field and their key piece will be mine. Once they are vanquished, I will return to ask you for yours once more. You’ll have one opportunity to defy me for each of their lives, Triggaltheron, then you’ll have no more.” He grinned feral and gestured to Abraham. “How many bodies shall be piled at your feet before you see reason?”
Afraid my voice would give away just how much his threat bothered me, I kept my mouth shut. Finally able to see worth a damn, I just stared at him. It was the best I could do.
He laughed. “While your courage is commendable, don’t let it be the sword your friends and allies fall upon.” He waved me away. “I will return soon, Rampage. Treat our guest well.”
The werewolf smirked in reply as bubbling clouds of inky blackness rose up from beneath Azrael. The darkness floated upward and swallowed the archangel whole, a moment later he was gone, leaving me and the furball alone in the room.
I’d just started to think of how I could handle Rampage when his fist slammed into my side. Bright light washed out my vision and I hit the floor, gasping for breath. Through the haze, I felt him take my gun. The metallic tinge of blood swirled in the back of my throat and I rolled to my back to relieve the pressure at my side. It was really obvious then that Azrael had busted open something inside me. Rampage’s punch had only made it worse.
Vaguely, I realized he had opened the door. Two more werewolves strolled inside, looking down at me with sharpened smirks. They each took an arm and hauled me up, then out into the hallway. Too beat to pretend I was tough, I hung limp and let them drag me.
“You see, demon? This is why us shifters are taking over. One little punch and you’re down for the count.” His friends sniggered at me, their ringleader electing not to tell them Azrael had already cleaned my clock and saved his furry asshole.
“Is that why you took my gun, brave guy, because I’m no threat?”
My sarcasm earned me another shot to the side. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to worry about falling. Unlucky for them, the pain of my internal injuries caused me to throw up.
Black blood and yellow bile spewed from my mouth, a waterfall of pungent nastiness that hit the ground and splattered everywhere. Wolfen paws squished and I could see the vomit squeezing up between their clawed toes. They grumbled in disgust and sped up, the lingering scent keeping pace.
“You’re going to pay for that,” one of the werewolves threatened and shook me roughly. The other grumbled in agreement, joining in on the fun.
If I could have spoken, I would have told him to put it on my tab. Of course, that would have only made things worse. Given my already precarious position, it was probably a good thing I couldn’t dig the hole any deeper.
Or was it?
A dimly lit bulb fluttered to life inside my thick skull. If I weren’t around, I wouldn’t have to worry about Azrael finding the key piece in time. He also wouldn’t need to torture my friends. While I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t do it out of spite, I could hope I wasn’t worth his effort.
Thinking along those lines, a plan began to form, no matter how half-baked it might seem to anyone not currently inside my head. While Azrael had told Rampage not to kill me, the message hadn’t been passed on to the other two flunkies, as far as I could tell. Besides, even if they had been told, I can be very persuasive. Seriously, who wouldn’t want to kill me?
As they dragged me down the hall, I glanced over at the werewolf on the left and did my best to force a smile onto my face. He glared at me.
“What’s your problem?”
“I’m just curious about something,” I choked out. “Are you neutered, or do werewolves just naturally lack balls?”
He snarled and pulled me to the ground by my arm and delivered a vicious kick to my ribs. The world disappeared in an explosion of white that faded fast to black, a piercing hum bouncing around inside my ears. Another kick brought the world back into focus, and what little was left in my stomach vacated it in search of better climes. My generosity was rewarded by a stomp to the head, my face smashed into the concrete floor, Humpty Dumpty reenacted. My vision tunneled and the darkness closed in. The warm slime against my cheek was so far out I barely registered it. I felt something like a water balloon burst in my chest, a warm, wet sensation tickling me inside. Waves of exhaustion washed over me, everything slowing down.
As my eyes slid closed, I heard Rampage howling at the other werewolf. Too tired to care, I let go. Mission accomplished.
A sharp pain against my cheek snapped my eyes open. They came into focus on a furry lightning bolt, reddish-orange eyes glimmering just below.
“You’re not getting off that easily, demon.”
Damn.
Still laying in my spew, warm and sticky against my fingers, it was obvious I hadn’t been out but a few seconds. So much for my master plan. Now I was just beaten up more, and still alive. What’s a guy got to do to die?
Rampage leaned over and pulled me up, supporting my weight, but making me stand. The movement just reinforced my wish to die. It hurt-a lot.
The other two werewolves stayed a little ways behind us, their faces looking like beaten dogs; one of them carried my gun. Rampage ignored them as we traveled on a little further until we reached the area of DRAC that housed the holding cells.
“Get the door,” he told the other two.
They snapped to and slipped past us, one yanking open the heavy, reinforced steel door while the other stood by.
A blur of black and white whipped through the air behind them. Geysers erupted where the werewolves’ heads had been just a split-second before. Warm blood rained over us as their bodies danced in place for a moment, then crumbled to the floor. Their heads landed with moist splats right after.
Rampage’s grip loosened and I drooped to the ground across from the spurting corpses. A rumbling, basso growl came from beyond the door and echoed down the hall, vibrating the walls. The werewolf stood there without moving as a monstrous blue-black form appeared in the doorway
. Red stained claws led the way as the creature hunkered down and eased through the door, a grinning ursine face coming nose to nose with Rampage.
It was another werebear, but it definitely wasn’t Grawwl.
It nudged Rampage with its snout, its muzzle pulling back to show a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. A low growl rolled thunderous from its mouth and Rampage stiffened in response.
A quick slash later, the werewolf stumbled back, an oozing, crimson hole where his throat had been just seconds before. He clutched to the wound, a quiet whistle slipping between his clawed fingers, and stared wide-eyed at the werebear. His eyelids fluttered: once, twice, then closed, never to open again. His arms fell limp at his sides and his legs gave way. He crumbled into a heap and laid there, his life’s blood staining the tile floor.
The need for me to die now passed, I looked up at the giant bear and sighed, lowering my face. It was just my luck.
“You look like you could use a hand,” the bear told me, its voice deep and smooth, a gentle chuckle rounding out his words.
I recognized its intonation and looked at the creature again. This time, my eyes saw him for who he really was; Rahim.
“Are you serious?” My excitement was tempered by internal bleeding.
He grinned and hunched down lower so we were face to face. “In the fur.”
His movement was fluid and graceful. He held out a monstrous paw to me and I grabbed ahold so I could get to my feet. Amazed by his transformation, I couldn’t help but stare.
“We thought you were dead.”
He nodded. “I know.” He motioned behind him. “I had a little angelic help chasing away the weres after Rachelle gated all of you out of there.”
Beyond the behemoth, Akrasiel leaned casually in the doorway. In his hand, he held Katon’s replacement sword, along with Scarlett’s blade, Everto Trucido.
“Hi Akrasiel, or do you prefer Raguel?”