The sorrow in Ardat’s voice slowly turned to menace as she, too, remembered their fateful past. “We were born into service without a choice. The Usurper saw this and gave me a choice—”
“A choice? Is that how you justify killing hundreds of thousands of our kind? Is that how you sleep at night? You rationalize your murderous actions, Ardat, with a false pretense of slavery? We were never slaves. We were special. You—you were special to me.”
“And we can still be,” Ardat said, risking Michael’s temper and taking another step forward. “Don’t you see? I’m doing this for us. With Heaven’s army destroyed, I will be in power, and you with me. I have no love for my kind. Come with me. You and I will make our own home on Earth. With no angels or demons to pull us either way, we can finally be happy together.”
Michael was at a loss for words. The same woman he’d given his heart to centuries before stood in front him, yet she was not there at all. “You would risk all of these lives for us?”
“Michael, I would risk so much more to be with you again. Please, if you won’t join me, stay out of this fight. When it’s over, I’ll say I took you as prisoner. You can still have your reputation, and me with it.”
Michael slowly shook his head. The pain he felt every day at losing her now doubled in the pit of his stomach, and heartbreak tore through him, squeezing his heart until he thought it would burst under the pressure. “I don’t know if I can ever stop loving you, Ardat. Somewhere deep within you still exists the woman I love. Maybe I’m a fool for believing this.” Michael licked his dry lips, and Ardat leaned forward in anticipation of his next words. “But I will not join you. I cannot kill you, God help me, but I will not join you. We will be victorious today. I’ll order you captured alive, and maybe—maybe—you can find forgiveness in the eyes of the Creator.”
“The Creator?” In an instant, all signs of sadness and love from Ardat disappeared. “The Creator? Where is your Creator now? As you stand on the brink of extinction, where is He to be found? No, your Creator has abandoned you. When I stand over the field of battle as a victor, I will do the same for you, my love. You will be taken alive, and I have faith that one day you will see things my way.”
Michael’s eyes refused to leave Ardat as his sense of smell once again alerted him to another’s presence. With a wicked stare, the short goblin peeked around Ardat’s long, black robe. “We attack in an hour, my love. Rethink my offer to either join us or remain absent from the confrontation. Our numbers and superior weapons will make this a short, bloody conflict.”
With the smell of sulfuric acid in the air and a faint hue of smoke, both demons were gone. Michael released one last quivering breath before his mind turned back to the battle soon to begin. Joining Ardat was never an option, and he’d die before he’d allow himself to be taken as a prisoner.
Chapter Sixty-Two
“Where were you, my mistress?” Dominic asked in a sly tone.
Ardat fixed him with a hard stare as she secured her breastplate. “That is none of your concern. Are the men ready?”
The dark Nephilim nodded in a series of quick successions. Ardat looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She was ready. Dark steel armor adorned her from toe to neck, and in place of a helmet, she wore a crown. Her black robe draped over her armor and across her shoulders, enveloping her in yards of thick material. “Yes, my mistress,” Dominic said. “They are ready and in place, awaiting your command.”
“And the giants? How many were able to make the transition?”
“Six. Only six Nephilim possess the ability of supernatural growth. They are armored and ready.”
“Good. Keep Kyle close with you, and remember, it’s up to the two of you to deal with Alan Price when he makes his appearance.”
Dominic cut off his disrespectful scoff in a mumbled apology. “I am out of line, of course. Still, I do not understand why you think so highly of the boy. I dispatched him single-handedly when I made him dinner at his home. Besides, I thought you killed him on the cargo ship when we raised the lost statue.”
Ardat stared at the blank cave wall just over Dominic’s shoulder as she replayed history’s most recent events. “He sprouted wings. Wings I’d never seen before in my lifetime. I don’t think I killed him that day.” Ardat paused as she recalled the image of the two blue wings that hummed with power. “No, I know I didn’t kill him. I’m not sure what he’s capable of, but it’s your assignment to make sure we never find out.”
Dominic shrugged. “As you wish. I will be ready and looking forward to his visit.”
Ardat shook her head clear of the vision of Alan’s powerful wings, her eyes focusing on Dominic’s own outfit—dark armor like her own, a wickedly curved scimitar, and dirty slippers on his feet. “You are going to wear those into the fight?”
“They’re like walking on clouds, my mistress.”
“Whatever you say. Signal the troops to advance out of the main entrance. The giants will form the front line. When we are engaged in direct battle with the enemy, and only when we are engaged in direct battle, give the order to spring the trap.”
Dominic Drencher licked his lips in preparation for the blood and gore soon to cover him head to foot. In the ancient tradition of dark Nephilim serving the Fallen, Dominic repeated the words of servitude, “Yes, your will, my hands.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
An hour. She’d told him she was attacking in an hour. Michael knew Ardat too well to think she was bluffing. So sure of her victory, she didn’t care if he knew when they were coming, which gave him an edge. They wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Not today.
Michael stood on the edge of a sloping sand dune. A hundred yards in front of him a small mountain rose toward the heavens as if seeking to touch the sky itself. They’d found Ardat’s hideout at its base, with an entrance wide enough for ten men to stand side by side and still walk comfortably through. She would charge from this point, and with superior numbers and weapons, hit them head-on.
Michael turned his back on the cave entrance to address his men and women. The sun just beginning to peek over the many sand dunes, its light reflecting off his gold-and-silver armor like a bright burning star. The dark blue cape flowing behind him perfectly contrasted against the brilliance of his defensive covering. Caleb was right. He could see the admiration in everyone’s eyes, each warrior willing him to break the silence. They all stood at attention in tight-knit rows, all wearing silver armor of their own, some equipped with swords, shields, spears, clubs, but most relying on their own unique abilities to see them through the fight.
There was no differentiating the angels and the Nephilim; they stood as one unit. Angels with large white wings folded at their backs stood next to Nephilim of all shapes and sizes, and they all looked to Michael, ready for direction.
The lack of noise in the company of such a large force was intimidating in its own right; no whispers muddied the pure waters of silence. Heat beat down on them, and adrenaline ran rampant through pulsing veins and hearts that bore the weight of responsibility.
With the hour Ardat had given them to prepare all but passed, Michael began what could very well be his last speech. “My brother and sisters, chosen Nephilim and angels alike, today we have been given a great privilege. Today our paths have all met together. As one, our fates have been intertwined and have led to this one single moment. Everything in your lives has prepared you for this final battle.”
Michael paused as a distant rumbling caught his attention. Glancing over his shoulder, he narrowed his eyes down to determined slits. Ardat’s army was approaching through the cave entrance, a procession led by a row of giants towering ten times taller than any man. Michael examined the enemy in the time of a quick heartbeat. “And now they come. Those who would see us, our loved ones, our families, our friends, either killed or doomed to a life of slavery. We all know they outnumber us and are equipped with celestial blades and armor. Still, they do not have the strength we possess in he
re!” Michael pounded a gauntlet-clad fist to his breastplate. A shout rose up so powerfully, it caused his armor to vibrate.
“They will never have the strength we possess in our hearts; the strength that only justice, duty, freedom, and love can give. I would take this side in a fight any day, no matter the odds. We will wrestle those weapons from their hands, use against them the very things they would seek to destroy our world with.”
Another shout, this time louder than the first. Michael twisted his body, still looking at his army but pointing his right index finger at the enemy. “Let us remind them, united as one, how frightening and brutal men and women can be when forced to protect the things they love!”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Michael stood on the sand dune, making one of his famous speeches, just as Ardat knew he would. He was a gifted leader, able to inspire on demand, one of the many qualities that made him so desirable to her. In the face of defeat, he was giving his soldiers an edge, giving them hope, and that was something Ardat could not allow. “Full sprint ahead,” she shouted from her position in the middle of the army. Those close enough to hear her passed the order along.
The slow walk the army had adopted as they’d departed from the cave soon picked up tempo. Thousands of dark Nephilim swarmed underneath her as they first jogged, and then started to run. Her ability over gravity allowed her to levitate herself above her soldiers.
Dark Nephilim not only equipped with their unique supernatural abilities, but also with their otherworldly weapons, now sprinted toward their prey. Ardat floated above them as they exited the cave and crossed the hundred yards over to Michael and his waiting army.
The soft sand underfoot would make those without the power of speed or strength slow down to a trot, which would make them susceptible to long-range weapons until they reached the front lines of the enemy. Ardat knew neither side would use firearms, not when both parties had men and women able to shoot electricity and fire from their hands. Guns seemed to fall a bit short.
Ardat patiently waited for the sound of arrows and spears to fill the air. How cute, she thought. They decided to wear matching armor. The air was still clean, something that wouldn’t be allowed to last long. Soon, the stench of death would fill the sky, along with the screams of the dying. Ardat basked in the clean air for a moment longer, before the familiar sounds of ranged weapons interrupted her peace.
She heard cries from her Nephilim army to duck for cover. The giants who formed their front line were shielded in armor; not a single inch of flesh was exposed. This would, of course, make them slower, but proved well worth it when arrows and spears clattered against them, shattering harmlessly. The few weapons that did make it over their advancing walls of flesh and metal were quickly batted away by Ardat. To her, they were nothing more than a nuisance.
When her men saw how easily the enemy could be dealt with, they roared with predatory delight. With giants still in the lead, they closed the gap, and soon, their foremost ranks were climbing the steep, sandy slope, where the first line of angels and their Nephilim waited.
As soon as the sounds of battle met her ears, Ardat moved to the front. She, much like Michael, had no intention of sitting out this fight. To say “all hell broke loose” as the two armies clashed would be an injustice. Even Ardat’s eyes blazed with wonder as giants beat down on their enemy’s front lines with massive clubs and swords while Michael’s angels took flight and swooped low like birds of prey. They either used their own supernatural abilities as their weapon, or picked up a dark Nephilim to either kill in the air or drop from a deadly height. Fire, water, snow, wind—every element was thrown against each side. Beings possessing mystical abilities put their unique skills to use, bringing death and pain to one another.
It was glorious in Ardat’s eyes. The moment she’d waited for since she knew they’d been defeated the very first time and had been cast out of Heaven, was finally here.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Alan thought back to the many days he spent as a teenager. All of the painfully awkward weeks of stuttering in front of cheerleaders, dropping his books in view of the most popular kids, tripping while carrying his food tray in the cafeteria … he was reminded of all of these events as he learned how to fly. Flying was nothing like how he’d imagined. He controlled his wings like any other limb—his brain told them to flap, just as it told his legs to run or his arms to move. This, in and of itself, wasn’t the hard part. The most challenging obstacle came when he was buffeted from side to side by rogue wind gusts; flying in a straight line was hard enough without having to worry about the hidden hands of the wind forcing him in different directions.
Despite this new challenge, Alan couldn’t help smiling. Even as he awkwardly flapped his wings with the rest of the group, sometimes careening here and there, most of the time battling the wind, Alan felt alive. He felt invincible.
Air swirled around him, while beneath him, the world expanded out as far as the eye could see. They continued their flight to the coordinates Michael had provided them as a next step, should their mission succeed. At the moment, this path was taking them over a vast body of water, over dark blue shades that lay quiet and flat across the Earth. Here and there, boats appeared too far below for any of the Death Angels to worry about being seen.
They flew as one: Alan, the dozen most powerful angels in history, and even Danielle, who piloted their jet burdened with heavenly armor and weapons, as if she, too, were soaring on wings of her very own.
Although battle loomed in their very near future, Alan felt a sense of peace. For the first time in his life, he understood why he’d been created. He knew his purpose; all of the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit, and everything was making sense. Now, as they sped over the dark water at a speed that pushed even Danielle’s jet to its limits, Jericho sidled up beside him, shouting over the roar of the rushing wind. “Looks like you’re catching on to this whole flying thing rather quickly. How does it feel?”
Alan smiled as he thought about that simple statement. “I can’t believe I’m flying in the first place. I’m just glad I’m not afraid of heights.”
The large man beamed as he flapped his even larger wings. “Like anything else, it’ll get easier with practice. We’re going to be nearing the battle coordinates very soon. It might be time to gear up.”
“Gear up?”
“Yep, Danielle has opened the rear hatch on the jet, and Seraphim is in there now. She’s going to start preparing us for battle. It’s kind of a thing she does for us as our leader.”
Alan’s face must have expressed his surprise, because Jericho chuckled aloud. “She’s not all death and battle. I mean, she mostly is, but she cares about us, too. We’re a family, and now you with us.”
“Okay,” Alan said, taking his new comrade at his word. With more than a little floundering, he managed to slow his pace from the rest of the pack to gain some elevation. Danielle was piloting the jet just above and behind the flying group of angels. Alan continued to slow his rate of flight until the jet was directly overhead, then allowed it to pass.
While he waited for the jet to pass over him and the rear hatch to come into view, Alan’s breath caught in his throat. Eleven pairs of jet-black, flapping wings beat in unison. Eleven of the most deadly creatures to ever walk or fly this Earth or any other realm, now traveled as one. The way their wings beat against the clouds was enough to make any poet pause for words. It was an awesome and deadly sight, all at once.
Much too soon, the jet passed overhead, providing Alan an entrance to the plane’s small cargo area. The jet itself was compact and only meant to fit a dozen occupants, at the most. Now, this space was packed from floor to ceiling with bright gold, silver, dark grey, and even black pieces of armor and weapons.
Alan urged his wings to steady his momentum as he fought against the jet’s back draft. With concentrated effort, he stabilized himself enough to fly forward and land on the tip of the jet’s open cargo doors.
&nb
sp; He should have tried to land deeper into the jet’s interior. His legs wobbled beneath his weight, reminding him that despite Danielle’s best effort to heal him, his body was still weary from the fight with the Death Angels. Alan spun his arms out to either side, trying to find his balance, and just when he thought he would fall and find himself learning how to stop a plunging descent with his newfound wings, Sera appeared from behind a stack of armor and grabbed him with a firm hand. “Easy there. We can’t have you leaving us just yet, not when there’s a battle you’d talked us into joining still to be fought.”
Alan found his balance, then smiled with gratitude. He wasn’t exactly sure how Sera would treat him after their confrontation, but it seemed as though the female warrior harbored no ill will. “Thanks, I’m not sure how long these things will take to get used to.” To Alan’s surprise, his pulsing blue wings folded neatly against his back as he stepped farther into the rear of the jet.
Sera measured Alan with a sideways stare, focusing on his wings, and then lingering on his chest and arms. Breaking the silence, Alan asked what they were both thinking. “What do you think they’re made of?”
Sera slowly shook her head. With no verbal answer, she reached out a tentative hand. Alan moved to tell her to stop; the last thing he wanted was hurt the leader of the Death Angels headed to assist him in the coming battle. Alan’s wings quivered under her touch. Oh, please don’t shock her, or do anything crazy, he thought.
But nothing happened as Sera gently stroked his wings. The blue appendages that had only recently made themselves known trembled under the warm sensation of her hand, like someone trailing their fingertips down a shirtless back. Alan could feel his skin tingle.
The Complete Archangel Wars Series: A Shared Universe Series (The Archangel Wars) Page 18