Soul of Stone (Fallen Angel Book 3)

by Leo Romero

  He nodded.

  “Okay, wing me up,” I said and lowered my head.

  Jerome snatched an olive wreath from the mannequin head on the counter and stepped over to me. “I pray you’re telling the truth.”

  “So do I.”

  “In the name of the Father, the son, and the holy spirit, I grant you the power of Heaven,” he said in a calm voice and placed the wreath on my head. The power was bestowed on me. It pulsed down my body in magical waves, entwining with every limb. I stood upright, throwing off my jacket and pulling off my tee. My wings tore through my back and grew large. My muscles bulged with brute strength, taut beneath my skin. I caught my reflection in the mirror lining the far wall. My eyes flushed white, giving me deeper vision. A halo burned around my head like a coronet.

  I spread my hands out wide as my wings flared to fullness. I focused light magic in my palm; it glowed effervescent. I turned my attention to my other hand. I tried to get angry, but in angel form it wasn’t easy. I went to my dark place. Gretchen. Hot emotions stirred inside me. Not hate or even anger, but a desire to right wrong. It wasn’t enough to fuel my dark side. I tried harder. I pictured her, that monster, saw her grinning in my mind’s eye. Something brewed in my belly. A tremor of righteous anger. The etchings on my forearm lit up. I focused on the face of what my mother had become, and that righteous indignation swelled inside me, a supreme, overwhelming sense to put things right, to neuter evil in all shapes and forms. Dark mist erupted from my palm in a shimmering haze. In seconds, a hefty globule formed.

  The etchings of Hazatar were transforming an angel’s righteous anger into dark magic. My light magic burned like a halo in my other hand. I had control of both.

  “What is that, Gabriel?” Jerome asked, fearful eyes fixed on my etchings and dark magic.

  “My dark side,” I told him.

  “What happened to you?”

  I scrunched my dark hand into a fist, obliterating that globule. “I’ll tell you later. Friend.” I turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Jerome behind. I marched through the club area, not acknowledging anyone else. I knew Jerome would be contacting Heaven as soon as I’d left the Guild, which gave me even less time.

  I leaped out of the Guild, hitting the streets. I didn’t stop to answer any of Brutus’ questions. Instead, I took to the sky and headed for Dark Suits Tower.

  Chapter 30

  I got there to find Aurora waiting for me. She was standing in the center of the portal to Tartarus, which she’d closed.

  “Gabe! Glad you made it,” she said dryly. “Where have you been?”

  “Overslept,” I said as I landed. “Haven’t missed anything, have I?”

  “Thankfully not,” she said.

  “Good. Get the others.”

  Aurora nodded and got busy opening a portal to Bracken’s palace. I looked around. The Loop was quiet. I’d asked the Dark Suits to order an evac. Didn’t want any normies getting caught up in the battle.

  Aurora got the portal open. Jagelon was the first to step through. The moment he did, the skies started to darken. Lothar squeezed through the portal, and my mind went blank again as Draxil climbed out of me. My mind came back into focus, and I looked around me. Jagelon was handing Draxil his chainsaw, which now had etchings on its blade. I noticed glowing etchings on the handles of Jagelon’s sledgehammers, the heads engulfed in shimmering dark magic.

  “All right, get out of here, Aurora,” I said as the skies darkened even more.

  “I want to stay and fight alongside you.”

  I shook my head. “No way. If you catch a stray one, Satan wins.”

  “But I can help.”

  “I’m not risking it! Go somewhere safe and wait. I’ll come and get you once we’re done.”

  She lowered her head as a peal of thunder shook the sky. “All right,” she said with a nod. “Good luck, Gabe.”

  “See you, kid.”

  She opened a portal back to Bracken’s palace and stepped through, her eyes never leaving me. I gave her a nod as she closed the portal up behind her.

  And then we were alone. The skies darkened to a grim gray, streaks of lighting splitting the clouds at regular intervals, accompanied by cracks of thunder. It was showtime.

  I got my light magic burning and ran it down Excalibur’s edge. He glowed even brighter against the dark skies. “Everyone ready?” I said as I pulled out Bam Bam.

  “Aye!” growled Jagelon.

  “Yes,” came Lothar’s booming voice.

  “We die fighting together!” Draxil growled, getting his chainsaw buzzing into life. The etchings on it ignited, and a shroud of dark magic surrounded the blade.

  I looked to my left and right. We were a motley crew. Jagelon stood there, a dark-imbued sledgehammer in each hand. Lothar was at the back, his colossal frame shadowing us all. The rhythmic chug of Draxil’s chainsaw and guttural demonic growl were our war drums. We were a small band of brothers, ready to face our enemy in hand-to-hand.

  An ethereal streak of lighting split the sky in the distance, and from there, the horsemen came riding into town. At the back of my mind The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly theme played out, the gallop of their horses in time with the music as they grew larger on the sky.

  “Let’s kick their asses and send them back crying to their mommas,” Draxil grunted as he watched them approach.

  “Amen,” I replied, my grip on my weapons tightening.

  The horsemen reached the building, and they landed. The hooves of their horses clomped across the concrete as they approached. All four of them kept their gazes on us. Death with his ancient, opaque eyes; Pestilence with his rot-green stare; War with his frenzied eyes boiling with anger; and finally Famine with his gluttonous glare.

  They all came to a stop in a perfect line. We held our ground, bunched tight, weapons ready for action. The air was silent for a few moments, bar the odd rumble of thunder and chug of Draxil’s chainsaw, while each team stared one another down.

  “So,” hissed Death. “We finally meet again.”

  “And the numbers are now even,” said Draxil.

  “Angels and demons fighting on the same side,” boomed War. “It must be the end of days.”

  I shook my head. “Not today.”

  “You truly believe you can best us?” Famine scoffed, his flabby cheeks trembling. “Your delusion is staggering.”

  “It is you who are deluded,” Lothar said. “You can still turn and leave.”

  The horsemen met one another’s stare. Their laughter filled the air. “We never run,” sneered Pestilence.

  Jagelon let out a frustrated growl. “Oh, enough talking!” he grunted. “Let’s fight!” He raised both his sledgehammers overhead and let out a maniacal war cry. He raced over to the horsemen, screeching.

  I watched him in bewilderment. What the hell was he doing?

  He made a beeline straight for War, who leaped off his horse. He pulled his hammer from his back and released his own roar as he stormed in to meet Jagelon. Neither maniac let up. Jagelon swung a sledgehammer across the air. War returned the blow, swiping his own hammer. Their cries intensified, and the hammers clashed, dark magic meeting horseman magic. An almighty burst of energy erupted from the impact: a blaze of ink and light-green. A hollow dong resounded through the sky.

  Both fighters were thrown back by the blast, which spread outward, hitting us all. The horses rose up on their hind legs, throwing their riders off. I was pushed back, smacking into Lothar’s thighs. Draxil held on, his cheeks pulling back like he was trapped in a hurricane.

  The blast petered out.

  And then the battle commenced.

  “Charge!” Draxil shouted, rushing in toward the floored horsemen, his chainsaw held high on the air like he was Leatherface’s long-lost brother. He reached Famine first and immediately brought he tip of the chainsaw down. The teeth chewed into Famine’s meaty thigh, sending green blood spurting up all over Draxil, showering him. He was undeterred, roaring in a
nger as he pushed the chainsaw through Famine’s leg, severing it from his body. Green blood sprayed from the stump like a poisoned geyser. Draxil pumped the bloodstained chainsaw in the air and went straight to work on the other leg.

  Before I had a chance to get going, Death leaped on his feet and raced in toward me, sickle held high. He swung it down at me. I flapped my wings on instinct, my body rising. I swooped back just in time to avoid the immaculate blade on that sickle. I aimed Bam Bam and fired. The side of Death’s head exploded out. He whirled away in a fitful circle.

  Behind me, Lothar roared into life. He stomped across the rooftop, eating up the ground with his massive legs. He grabbed hold of Death, picked him up, and threw him as hard as he could. Death flew through the air like a football, smashing into one of the waiting horses.

  Meanwhile, Draxil let out another roar of delight as he chopped through Famine’s other flabby leg.

  War and Jagelon were locked in battle, each smashing the other with a hammer. They were going blow for blow, using the handles of their weapons to block. War caught Jagelon on the upper arm with a wild blow. Jagelon roared in pain and staggered. War screamed like a wildman and raced after him, swinging his hammer. He brought it up, ready to slam it down on Jagelon’s head.

  I leaped in the air and flapped my wings, lunging in toward them, Excalibur thrust out ahead of me. War brought his hammer down. I jabbed my blade in the way before it split Jagelon’s head open. The hammer struck my blade. A bright flash exploded out. War was thrown back.

  I flapped my wings and held my position, mid-air.

  Jagelon gave me a quick nod. “Thanks!”

  There wasn’t time. Pestilence came storming in with his sword pulled back over his shoulder. He came straight for me, swinging up at me. I swung Excalibur, and our swords clashed. Rot-green and golden-light energy sparked off our swords as we went into a swordfight. I landed back down on the roof and sparred with him, parrying and swinging. The clang of our swords echoed through the booming sky. Pestilence was letting loose his rage with every swing of his sword, his decaying face contorted, his teeth clamped together in a hateful grin. I did my best to keep up, blocking his attacks, but he was forcing me back.

  He swung left and right in quick succession, and I had to work overtime to keep my head from leaving my body. Jarring pain jolted up my arm as I blocked the latest attack. He let out a colossal roar and slammed his sword down. I threw up a desperate block, but it was too weak. My wrist bent back at a painful angle, and I lost my grip on Excalibur. It clattered across the rooftop. Pestilence immediately took his sword in both hands and raised it above his head.

  He went to bring it down on me. I threw up Bam Bam and curled my trigger finger.

  Something slammed hard into Pestilence’s midriff. He was sent sprawling to the side, his attack neutered. Jagelon came into view, sledgehammers in hand. He dashed off after Pestilence, hammers raised. On reaching him, Jagelon laid into him hard with those hammers, the dark magic leaving bruise-like blotches all over Pestilence’s body.

  Meanwhile, Draxil had removed one of Famine’s arms. He cackled in revelry while being spattered with green blood. The chainsaw chomped through Famine’s arm. Draxil snatched it up, raised it to the sky, and cackled harder.

  Lothar was taking care of Death, stomping down on his head with his mighty foot.

  I watched it all in bewilderment. This was going way better than I thought it would.

  Lothar kicked away Death’s mashed-up body. Jagelon caved in Pestilence’s head, and Draxil was busy severing off Famine’s other arm, the buzz of his saw like a thousand rabid wasps.

  War staggered around like a drunken sailor, dragging his hammer along the ground behind him. I snatched a deep breath and flew in toward him. I slammed into his back and picked him up, shooting up high into the sky. Before he had a chance to know what was happening, I came to a halt, turned, and dived back down toward the roof. The wind whistled by as I pushed War’s head down ahead of me. I roared as I sped up, the roof rapidly dominating my view. War struggled, but I had the advantage. His arms flailed a final time, and I crunched his head into the concrete.

  I rolled away, coming to a halt on my haunches, my chest heaving. All four horsemen were out for the count.

  Draxil got Famine’s final arm off and stepped away. Everything went calm for a brief moment, and then it started to happen. The regeneration. Famine’s legs flew back toward his body like iron filings to a magnet, reattaching themselves. Death’s caved head was inflating back to its natural form. War’s broken body was realigning itself. Pestilence’s battered and bruised limbs were healing by the second. No matter how many times we beat them, they’d always come back to life and eventually they’d win a round, and that would be the end.

  Draxil’s head snapped around to meet me. “Now, Stone! Call Margaroth!”

  I stood upright and reached into my left pants pocket where I’d stored a single card. The five of spades. I threw it down and uttered the name ‘Margaroth’. A puff of smoke, and a door opened to the Void. In stepped Margaroth. He leaped onto the roof with a menacing ‘yap!’ and a wiggle of his butt.

  Worst entrance ever.

  I had to say I wasn’t exactly inspired.

  The four horsemen were rapidly coming back to life, and I still didn’t know what Margaroth could do about it. He pounced harmlessly onto a loose stone and started playing with it. I shook my head in exasperation. Death leaped to his feet, already with his sickle at the ready. Famine had his limbs back on. Pestilence grabbed his sword and rose to his feet. War jumped up and let out a feral cry.

  Draxil took a deep breath. “Margaroth!” he boomed. “Virtus sursum infernum canem!”

  Margaroth’s tiny ears pricked. He froze, tiny claws jutting out of his paws. He wiggled his butt a few times before his whole body started to inflate as if he was being pumped with air. His tiny claws thickened and hardened into jagged, black talons, now jutting out of massive paws. The muscles on his legs swelled and bulged as he grew and then grew some more, all the while, his hide darkening to a leathery crimson. He rolled his head in its socket as it enlarged, his yapping morphing into lion-like guttural growls, his jaws pulling back against the huge fangs now bulging out of his gums. His face grew taut and mature, his eyes black pearls.

  His now long tail swished from side to side, the end studded with ivory horns, turning it into a spiked club. There was a tearing sound as wings ripped high and proud from his back. He growled in pain before flaring them out wide, two red sheets.

  I watched on in awe as Margaroth turned into a crimson beast straight out of Hell. He snarled and seethed, his mighty snout sniffing the air, swirls of smoke shooting from his nostrils.

  “Margaroth!” Draxil shouted. “Reddere immortalitatem inutilis!” he bellowed, pointing at the horsemen. Margaroth flicked his head their way and snarled.

  “Stand back, Stone!” warned Draxil.

  I staggered back in a stupor. Margaroth roared into the sky, the wind from his flapping wings pushing my hair back. I watched him glide gracefully into the air before turning back. The horsemen had by then fully recovered. They stood in a daze, their consciousness still catching up. Margaroth soared overhead, shooting past them. As he did, he flipped his tail up, pointed his ass down and released some kind of toxic gas, aiming right for them. Dark-green smoke bathed the horsemen and their horses, while the rest of us stood safely on the outskirts, watching on. Margaroth ceased his spray and flew off to circle overhead. I stared at the noxious cloud ahead of me, one hand over my mouth and nose, glad it was those damn horsemen in there and not me.

  The horsemen coughed and choked, and for a minute, I thought they were going to die. Instead, the smoke dissipated, leaving them standing there in bewilderment. All four of them exchanged edgy glances. Something was up. They knew it. And so did Draxil. He stood there with a shit-eating grin on. “Heh heh, feeling a little less immortal, are we?”

  The horsemen gazed down at their own b
odies in dread. Margaroth’s gas had done something to them. It had somehow neutered their immortality. Now we could kill them.

  Chapter 31

  War shook with rage. “You shall all perish for that!”

  I’d be pissed too if I was forced to inhale a Margaroth fart.

  “The effect is only temporary,” warned Draxil. “We must be quick!” He went to rush in, when a fork of lightning shot down onto the roof ahead of War. I shielded my eyes against the glare while War leaped up, grabbed hold of it, and slung it ahead of him like a javelin. The forks spread across the roof where they pooled and crackled. They shot back up into dancing columns where they formed legs, arms, a torso, and head. They jumped into life, electric soldiers of war, slinging bolts of lightning around.

  One flashed toward me. I flicked my head to the side to dodge it. By the time I faced ahead again, an electric soldier was in my face. My ears pricked at the crackle of electricity, the aroma of ozone shooting up my nostrils.

  It swung an arm at me. I ducked away from it. I looked up; the other electric soldiers were making beelines for the other demons. In seconds, everyone was locked in battle, sparks of electricity flying, turning the roof into a strobe show.

  The electric soldier threw another arm my way. I used Excalibur to block the blow. There was a huge spark of light. Electricity juddered up my arm and through my body. My angel powers were strong enough to cope, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. I gritted my teeth against the pain and yanked Excalibur across the air, severing the electric soldier in two. The steaks of electricity seized up and frazzled away into nothing.

  I spun around to survey the scene, my breathing ragged. Electric soldiers were scampering across the roof. Lothar was entwined with one, its blue streaks spreading up his mountainous body. He grappled it, bolts of lightning caught in his grip, electricity reflecting in his eyes.

  A horse roar made me turn. Draxil brought his chainsaw down on an electric soldier. The streaks of lightning comprising it split in half while Draxil’s jaw chattered under the current. He held on, sawing that thing in two, sparks showering him until the electricity dissipated into nothing.