The Complete Archangel Wars Series: A Shared Universe Series (The Archangel Wars)

by Jonathan Yanez

  “What do you want?” Alan asked, checking the urge he felt to lunge at the demon.

  “It’s not what I want, oh no, no, no,” Trubic said, taking a step closer. “If I had it my way, you all would be dead already, right alongside that Death Angel tramp you called—”

  Alan couldn’t stop himself. Justice would have to wait for another day. Summoning the last of his strength, he jumped toward Trubic and wrapped both hands around the screaming demon’s throat. Before Alan could manage more than a second or two hold, he was torn off Trubic by the army of guards at hand.

  Blows struck his torso and face as Alan was slammed back against the cell wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kyle given similar treatment beside him.

  Trubic recovered from his initial scream. He pushed the guards away who tried to assist him from his position on the floor. “Get back! Back, you dogs! I can take care of myself!”

  Turning on Alan, he fixed him with a stare full of hate. “If I had it my way, you’d all be dead, not preparing for another round in the coliseum.” Trubic straightened his armor and the long crimson cloak that fell behind him. “My uncle thinks it’s important that the men see you fall. He wants your death to be the horn calling our army to war. He wants the death of the Horsemen heralding the coming Apocalypse.”

  “So spare us the speech and let’s get on with it, already,” Kyle said to Alan’s left. Still held in place by the guards, Kyle spit blood down at the floor near Trubic’s feet.

  “I would love nothing more,” Trubic said, licking his lips, “however, killing you would be a direct violation of my uncle’s orders. He didn’t say anything about beating you though.”

  At once, Alan understood why Trubic had come: his enemies—wounded, cornered, and injured. He had come to gloat and inflict his own punishment on them. The soldiers moved first to Alan, and then Kyle, restraining them. Trubic turned to a soldier on his right and took a whip from the man.

  Alan refused to grimace or groan. When each blow fell, he retreated into himself. His thoughts were on those he had lost, those who still needed him, and the justice he promised he would bring Seraphim.

  Wet oozed down Alan’s back as wounds were opened and blood poured free. The pain he experienced then was nothing to the loss he felt at Seraphim’s death. Physical pain he could handle. To Kyle’s credit, he was much the same. Alan winced for his friend as he heard the whip strikes land like some kind of searing thunder.

  Then it was over. Both men were left to slump to the ground as pain numbed their back and fatigue from the loss of blood set in.

  “There we are,” said a panting Trubic, who was trying to hide the physical exertion whipping them had taken on his body. “Now let’s see you best the centaurs in the coliseum.”

  Without another word, Trubic turned on his heel and headed for the door. Alan and Kyle were dragged through the long halls of the underground cells and taken to a familiar set of doors.

  Roars permeated the barrier as the crowd from the arena shouted their approval. Sodom’s voice could be heard over the now quieting mob as he addressed his army. “Five enemies of the Apocalypse remain. Among them, two of the Four Horsemen of this age. Today they die, and their deaths will mark the beginning of a new era. When they fall, we march to claim the power of the last Horseman, Disease, and by doing so begin the reign of the Usurper!”

  Another intense round of shouts made the ground vibrate under Alan’s feet. At once, the doors to the coliseum were thrown open and Alan and Kyle were forced to the middle of the arena.

  The first thing Alan noticed was the time of day. The sun was just rising over the edge of the coliseum. It was hard to believe yet another twenty-four hours had passed in their living hell.

  The next thing Alan noticed was the other three members of their group huddled together in the middle of the arena. Bobby, Triana, and Rana all bore similar wounds on their back. Each of them blinked against the light and wobbled on unsteady knees.

  “So this is it,” Bobby said, wincing as he straightened his back. “We die here, beside Horsemen who have chosen the Light.”

  “I can think of worse ways to go,” Rana said as they all took position in a small circle.

  Backs facing one another, eyes directed to the gates destined to open for their executioners, they waited. Boos and jeers from the crowd mixed in with Alan’s thundering heartbeat. He was prepared to die, his only regret not bringing those responsible for Seraphim’s death to the end they deserved.

  A sick, gnawing feeling ate at his insides as he determined to fight as long and as hard as he could.

  The feeling grew in intensity as the gates around the pit began to slowly open. “Whatever is coming out,” Kyle said, both hands clenched into fists, “we can be sure there will be a lot of them. Sodom won’t make a mistake this time.”

  “Agreed,” Alan said. “We have the best chance of survival if we stick together.”

  Alan was going to say more. He was going to give the four people around him some kind of speech or pep talk, but the sound of hundreds of running hooves drowned out any further words they might have been able to hear. Louder and louder, the noise echoed through the tunnels until the floor shook and Alan’s insides vibrated under the onslaught.

  Creatures in full battle gear erupted from the tunnels. Hundreds of beasts, man or woman from the waist up and horse from the waist down, circled the small group. Brilliant armor protected their chest, arms, and head. Each warrior was equipped with a shield, spear, and sword or bow at his or her back.

  Alan’s mouth dropped open. Not only had he never seen a centaur before, but the sheer number of them was staggering. It seemed every available foot of the arena was used to accommodate their collective mass.

  One centaur strode forward, his tail swishing violently from side to side. With one hand, he removed his helm, revealing a clean-shaven face and long dark hair. He spoke to them all in a deep voice that reflected pity and shame rather than malice. “Understand, my kind take no pleasure in this. If there was any other way, we would have chosen to fight alongside the Light.”

  With that simple statement, he replaced his helm and nodded to his soldiers.

  Sensing his one and perhaps only opportunity escaping, Alan took a step forward. Immediately, dozens of lances were pointed at his chest. Hands up, Alan addressed the centaur who had spoken. “You don’t have to do this. There is another way. Fight with us. Together we can defeat Sodom.”

  The crowd noise intensified, as bloodthirsty members of the Demon Army grew impatient to see the execution of Alan and his friends.

  The lead centaur hesitated. Just as Alan thought there may be a way to reason with him, Sodom’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Lavos, proceed as instructed. You know the consequences of your disobedience.”

  Alan and the centaur both swung their heads to look up at Sodom who sat flanked by Trubic and Rolf. The general motioned to some men behind him who dragged a figure bound in chains.

  At once, Alan understood the situation. The creature four guards pulled forward was a female centaur. She was regal despite her situation. Long snowy hair matched the hue of her horse’s body perfectly. Although she was bound, she stood tall, glaring at Sodom and the guards around her.

  “Kill them, or I kill your queen,” Sodom ordered.

  As if to emphasize his resolve, Rolf stood from his seat. Walking forward, he pulled a long sword from his side and brought it to rest right under the centaur queen’s chin. To her credit, she didn’t flinch.

  The centaur named Lavos turned from the sight and shook his head. With eyes full of anger and sorrow, Alan had his answer. “I am truly sorry, Horseman, but this is the only way.”

  Before Alan had a chance to reason further, Lavos nodded to his men. Lances lowered, the Centaur Army moved in for the kill.

  ---

  Ardat noticed the ground shaking still a mile out from the enemy camp. Loose stones rattled and bounced on the ground as if an earthquake was sl
owly beginning to pick up momentum. “Wait here,” she instructed a wide-eyed Tracy.

  Lifting from the ground, Ardat shot skyward. Gaining altitude, she searched the landscape in every direction. Far off to her left she saw the large black mass that was Sodom’s forces. Looking to her right, Ardat’s heart caught in her throat. Another army was on the move. This one far smaller than Sodom’s army, but one that was approaching quickly.

  Her eyes fought through the cloud of dust rising from the trampling feet. Then she caught it and couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her. A bright-yellow flag bore the emblem of a black, raging bull. The Minotaur Army was on the move. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe the unthinkable. But that moment was soon gone and Ardat was forced to realize the Minotaur Army, which had never intruded in the war between the Light and Dark, could just as soon be joining Sodom’s forces as enlisting in their own.

  There was only one way to be sure. Throwing caution behind her, Ardat sped forward to intercept the army of gigantic soldiers. As she came closer, guttural shouts and roars erupted from the scouts that preceded the main unit.

  For a brief moment, Ardat weighed the odds of her survival, should she choose to engage the main force. Just as soon as the thought came to mind, Michael’s face crossed her thoughts. Not now; this isn’t the time to strike first and ask questions later. There may be a chance, she thought to herself.

  Lowering to the ground, Ardat touched down and put both arms in the air. Eight towering minotaurs approached. They carried heavy slings with stones the size of Ardat’s head. Already the rocks were swirling in their brown leather pouches.

  “I wish to speak to your leader,” Ardat said in a clear, calm tone.

  The minotaurs looked to one another. One scarred minotaur with a white shock of hair across his forehead addressed her in a rough voice, “What does a demon want with Queen Baymore?”

  “This demon is bringing the Horsewoman of Disease to join the fight against Sodom’s forces. Do I speak with an ally or an enemy?”

  The minotaur huffed, sending a cloud of dust shooting from his thick snout. “We are no friends to Sodom.” With a nod of his horned head, he motioned to one of his solders, who stomped his hoof in return and took off at a run.

  “I should warn you, demon, if what you speak is a lie, I will kill you where you stand,” he said.

  “I’m sure you will try,” Ardat said with a smile.

  The silence lengthened between Ardat and the seven remaining minotaurs. The minotaurs may has well have been statues the way they stood, backs rigid, eyes unmoving from their target.

  Ardat, on the other hand, felt anxious to be on her way. Tracy was alone with her horse and the phoenix, no doubt wondering where Ardat had gone. Just as Ardat was considering taking to the air again to find Tracy, a group of warrior minotaurs appeared.

  Flanked by a contingent of personal bodyguards armored so heavily even their horns were incased in steel, a female minotaur approached. Ardat had never seen the queen that ruled the Minotaur Nation, but she had heard stories. There was no doubt this was her.

  Tall, with wide shoulders and adorned in her own golden armor, she advanced. “I am told you are an ally and have a Horsewoman with you?”

  “I do.”

  “And you, of course, have proof of this?”

  “Of course; however, what proof of your allegiance do I have? You could be lying to me to trap my Horsewoman and take her to Sodom.”

  At her words, there was a rumble of angry growls from the soldiers around the queen. The minotaur Ardat had spoken with when they first met took a step forward, beginning to swing his sling again. “How dare you accuse the queen of falsehood. I will kill you for your insolence.”

  “Peace,” the queen said, her voice as hard as steel. “However, I feel your leverage is abandoned.”

  Ardat raised an eyebrow in question. The queen’s only response was to move her hand in a motion behind Ardat.

  Sensing some kind of trick, Ardat moved her head to look behind her while still keeping the minotaurs in her line of sight. To Ardat’s dismay, Tracy was quickly approaching on her unicorn, the phoenix flying overhead.

  “If we were your enemies, I would kill you now, and as you said, take the Horsewoman and the two steeds to Sodom’s army … but I am not going to do that. Now unless you have information that can help me, I must be on my way. There are demons to kill.”

  “My Queen Baymor,” one of the queen’s personal bodyguards stepped forward to address her.

  “Yes, Cratos?”

  “Haste above all else is our goal; however, it may be advantageous to have a Horsewoman with us when we strike.”

  “Hey, I got worried for you so I thought I’d …” Tracy said as she reached Ardat. Her eyes moved from minotaur to minotaur as her train of thought derailed. “Wow, do you know these guys?”

  Frustration boiled inside Ardat, but there was no going back now. She ignored Tracy and turned back to the minotaurs. Just as much as Tracy was shocked to see them, they were equally as impressed to see the unicorn and phoenix. Minotaurs looked on wide-eyed, some even gesturing to one another and exchanging deep whispers.

  “I agree with Cratos,” the queen stated. “Will you join us? We march with all haste on Sodom’s army.”

  “We will,” Ardat said, beginning to lift from the earth once again. “We are only a mile or so out. What is your plan of attack?”

  Queen Baymor smiled as she placed her helm on her head. “The Minotaur Nation has never been known for our tact. Sodom will know we are coming by the way the earth will shake. We charge forward and kill everything in our path.”

  Tracy’s mouth fell open at the words.

  Ardat couldn’t help but smile. “Well then, Queen Baymor, by all means lead the way.”

  Chapter One Hundred Thirty-One

  Alan’s dogs of war were howling and scratching at the temple doors. Despite Artemis’s soothing words, they had been panicking for days. An invisible connection linking them to their Horseman was telling them he was in danger.

  “Will someone please stop that incessant noise,” Gabriel growled.

  “They know Alan is in trouble,” Danielle said as she put on her gear with what remained of the crippled Angelic Army.

  “Yes, I understand,” Gabriel said. “Still, it would be nice to hear my own thoughts.”

  Danielle ignored him as she fumbled with the straps for her armor. As a Nephilim granted with the power to heal, Danielle had always been away from the fight, readying to care for the wounded. Now with the Angelic Army nearly decimated, every angel and Nephilim was needed to fight.

  Danielle caught Angelica’s eye from across the staging area and grimaced. Angelica crossed the distance between them with a grin. “Need some help?”

  “Did I look that desperate?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes,” Gabriel said with a face void of any amusement.

  “Ignore him,” Angelica said as her fingers moved around Danielle’s armor, tightening straps and securing buckles.

  Danielle agreed with Angelica’s counsel. She did her best to calm her nerves and steady her breathing. The large Temple room that usually housed a labyrinth of bookcases had been cleared to make room for warriors preparing for battle.

  Racks of shields, swords, spears, bows, and arrows made up long rows. Every hand capable of holding a weapon was busy at work making final changes or tweaks to their gear before the doors opened and the last battle began.

  As Angelica moved around her still body, Danielle couldn’t help but notice Gabriel’s lack of emotion. Everyone was either chatting nervously or wore stern expressions as they mentally prepared themselves for what was to come. Gabriel, on the other hand, wore nothing more than a new black robe and his collar. He held his chin high and looked on at the others with an air of disdain.

  “Aren’t you going to wear any armor?” Danielle asked.

  Gabriel turned, as if noticing her for the first time. “Armor is fo
r those who anticipate getting hit. I plan on killing my enemies before it gets to that point.”

  Danielle mused over Gabriel’s words as Angelica presented her with a heavy circular shield and a sword in a golden scabbard. “When the fighting starts, stay close to me,” Angelica said.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Danielle said, grunting as she lifted the shield. “How much does this thing weigh? It feels like a hundred pounds. Ugh, I knew I should have kept on doing Pilates.”

  Before Angelica could respond, Gideon approached wearing a comical assortment of mismatched gear, including what looked like a bucket for a helmet. He extended a hand, offering Danielle a small metal sleeve with buttons on top.

  “What are you wearing?” Angelica asked.

  “Yeah,” Danielle said. “First, what are you wearing? And second, what is this?” She held up the strange invention, noticing Gideon wore an identical sleeve on his hand.

  “This,” Gideon said, taking in his outfit with an open hand, “is a relic of what humans wore centuries past. I don’t find myself on the battlefield often, but now that I do, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

  Both women gawked at him. Instead of acting embarrassed, Gideon took their silence as awe and continued. “The invention you are holding is what we’ll use to make sure Gabriel doesn’t step out of line. I made one for myself and Raphael. Raphael also suggested I make a third for you. If Gabriel decides to turn on one of us, the other two can negate his power.”

  Danielle nodded with understanding, at the same time turning to Gabriel, who stood listening on the opposite side of the weapons rack. The Fallen Archangel practically shook with anger. “As benevolent and trusting as ever,” he spat. “I forgot how amazing and righteous the side of the Light could be.”