Watch Me Burn

by Nikki Drost

  In a blur, the creature grabs the arrow and holds it an inch from his chest. “Tsk, tsk,” the demon waves his finger back and forth, “and here I thought you would have been raised with better manners. Must have been an oversight on your parents’ part, oh that’s right, you weren’t raised by them were you?” he chuckles.

  “Be gone, demon, or I will send you back to your king in pieces,” Alaric snarls.

  The figure tosses his head back with laughter. The unnatural sound causes bile to rise in my throat. I wish the Archangels had taught us how to fight demons cause this guy needs to have his ass kicked. But the only one I have been trained to kill is War and even though I can’t tell what this being looks like, thanks to his cloak, I highly doubt he’s one of the demonic Horsemen.

  “Such hostility and here I presumed you would be grateful for my services.”

  “You were misinformed, Ronwe, I do not want nor do I need your brand of assistance.”

  The demon snaps his head upright at the sound of his name. “Well, well, aren’t we full of surprises. If you know who I am, then you know I can give you the information that you seek.”

  “Save it,” Alaric holds his sword out in front of him, “I don’t make deals with demons.”

  The cloaked bastard shrugs his shoulders. “Are you sure? Because the alternative is death, you as a mere child cannot defeat me.”

  “I don’t know,” I say as I light up a smoke. “My money is on the kid, especially since he has us for backup.”

  The sound of malevolent laughter bellows from underneath that hood. “Save your threats, Peace, according to the rules any demon who lays a finger on the Horsemen will not be permitted to participate in the apocalypse, and I for one want a front row seat.”

  Well, that explains why none of us has ever seen a demon before tonight. It would have been nice if Michael had clued me in on this shit, fucking tip-lipped angel and his goddamn secrets.

  “Guess we’ll take a rain-check, now you heard the kid, get the fuck out of here.”

  Another ominous chuckle, “If I go then my knowledge of how to save the prophet and his family will leave with me, are you sure you don’t want to hear me out first?”

  Man, this bastard is seriously starting to piss me off and I show him just how much in the form of a finger.

  “Very well, but before I go, I must thank you, without your little excursion into this realm, my king never would have learned the identities of your birth parents. As a token of his gratitude he has sent them a gift, it should be arriving any minute now.”

  Alaric shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re lying!”

  “Am I?” his voice takes on an eerie timbre, “Why else would he send his hounds to find you? It was merely a distraction to keep you, and dear old dad occupied long enough for the Aigamuxa to locate your mother,” he sneers, the sight of his rotten teeth make me cringe.

  Wait, did he say Dad? The only men standing here are the four of us and the last time I checked, none of us has fathered any children. The only one that’s even trying to is Adam and there is no way Alaric could be his son. The kid has blond hair for Christ’s sake. That only leaves one other possibility…no, no fucking way. Alaric cannot be my son, but if I’m wrong and he is that means there is a demon heading straight for my mate. Shit.

  “I’d say the two of you only have a few precious minutes before she is ripped apart and devoured and then you,” he points a boney finger at Alaric, “will cease to exist.”

  Alaric suddenly lunges for the demon, only before he reaches his target he is thrown backwards by an invisible force. His back hits the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him. I rush over and help the kid to his feet. It doesn’t escape my attention that he failed to meet my eyes. Whatever, the second this shit is over with the two of us are having a little chat.

  “Hello, Ronwe, miss me?”

  Like the sneaky bastard that he is, Azrael materializes out of thin air. I should have known death would show up sooner or later, he always does.

  “Is that you, Azrael?” the demon cackles, “I hardly recognized you under that meat suit.”

  Ronwe practically doubles over with laughter. Who knew demons were so fucking jolly.

  The angel of death rolls his dark eyes. “Christ, enough already, you sound like a demented hyena.” Azreal cracks his knuckles. “By the way, I intercepted that little present Sammy sent the boy’s family. Unfortunately, by the time I was done playing with it, the damn thing was broken. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

  Azrael then tosses what looks like a pair of eyeballs at the demon’s feet.

  “How did you…you couldn’t possibly… I will kill you for this, Azrael!” the demonic spirit roars in anger. An eight-foot staff magically appears in his hand, the solid rod looks like a giant femur.

  I don’t even want to know what type of animal that fucking thing came from.

  Just as the thought enters my head, Ronwe lifts his staff into the air and with a few mumbled words, the earth begins to shake and crack apart releasing a mass of gray swirling smoke. The mist begins to separate and form floating apparitions that are at least six feet in height. The damn things even have glowing red eyes and razor sharp teeth.

  What the fuck are those things supposed to be?

  “That’s all you got?” Azrael scoffs, “A big stick and a few measly pet ghosts? Christ, why do I even bother?”

  The angel materializes two thin silver throwing knives, with one in each hand he crosses his arms then slashes the blades along the sides of his forearms. Blood flows from his cuts like a crimson river. Within seconds, a massive wall of black smoke forms behind the angel. Much like the ghosts that were summoned, these things split off into individual phantoms, the only exceptions are Azrael’s little friends appear to be ten times bigger and look a hellava lot scarier. Just not as intimidating as the ten-foot scythe Death is now holding.

  “Now, this is a proper weapon and those wraiths, are proper pets. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that size matters?” Azrael’s normally dark brown eyes change to a solid black. “Sic’ em boys.”

  With the growled command, the wraiths charge toward the demon and his ghostly army. They collide in a blurry mass of mist and snarls. Those things may appear to be incorporeal, but that doesn’t seem to hinder them from tearing each other apart and devouring what’s left.

  Off in the distance, Azrael swings his scythe with the type of speed and precision only he as the angel of death could possess. The four and a half foot blade whistles loudly as it slices through the air. Ronwe leans back just in time to save his head from being lopped off of his shoulders. He doesn’t have the chance to right himself because Azrael sweeps his leg out hooking his foot behind the demon’s leg and knocking the creature on his demonic ass. Without missing a beat, the angel stabs the end of his weapon into the demon’s chest.

  Goddamn I love watching that man fight, he’s like poetry in motion.

  I’m about to shout out my admiration for the angel when out of the corner of my eye I catch Dallas entering the clearing a good twenty feet from us. He seems to be stunned by the unearthly scene playing out before them. What the hell is he doing here?

  Azrael surveys the area only to stop short when he sees our new arrival. “Get him out of here before—”

  The rest of his warning is drowned out by the deafening shrieks emanating from the lingering wraiths. Apparently, those things didn’t get the memo about Dallas being one of the good guys because they turn their attention from the remaining ghosts toward the lone wolf.

  None of us could have predicted what was about to happen next.

  In a frenzy of black smoke, the wraiths head straight for Turner who seems to be frozen in place. Fuck, those things will tear him apart.

  Whether it is my guilt over sleeping with his girl or my vow of loyalty I made to all of my fellow Enforcers I find myself sprinting toward him at top speed while the song, “Blaze of Glory,” blares in my head. T
hat’s when it hits me. Michael said one of my brothers would die and like a pigheaded asshat, I had just assumed he meant Cass or Lincoln. It never crossed my mind that it could be one of the thousand other Enforcers around the globe. Either way, no one’s dying on my watch.

  With every ounce of strength I possess, I push Dallas out of the way, sending him safely to the ground just as the wraiths swoop in for the kill. Instead of devouring the Texan, the phantoms surround me, shrouding me in a flimsy like cocoon. The more I struggle the tighter their hold on me becomes, that’s when I’m then hoisted off of my feet and launched several feet into the air.

  In the next instant, all of my senses go haywire. I no longer hear my brothers in the distance. A shrill buzzing sound almost like a swarm of locusts drowns out their shouts. It feels like a thousand tiny fire ants are attacking my flesh all at once. Almost like acid injected straight into my veins, the searing pain pumps to every dark corner of my body. The only thing I smell is my own blood as these things continue to feast on my flesh. I cry out as sharp claws dig into my thighs and biceps, the wraiths begin to pull and twist my limbs until my bones break under the force.

  People say when they are about to die their lives flash before their eyes, well it’s true. Haunting memories from the past collide with new images, creating a twisted sort of movie that’s stuck on an endless loop. There wasn’t a single memory that wasn’t replayed, but certain ones stood out more than others, like the first time I spoke to Micah. The man actually shed a tear. That may not seem like a big deal, but for me, it meant that I had someone in my life that actually cared about me, that I was finally safe.

  A random memory of each and every one of my brothers assaults my mind, their smiling faces, and the sound of their laughter rings in my ears. My last few memories are the ones that hurt me the most. They fill me with anger and regret. If Alaric is truly my son, then I wasted what little time I had with him, and then there is, Kelsey. Whether she meant to or not she changed me irrevocably and for that, I will always be grateful to her.

  I fight to stay conscious, but the agonizing pain is too much. Just before my world turns permanently dark, the smell of brown sugar overwhelms my nostrils. Alaric’s voice echoes loudly in my ears, he’s begging me to stay with him, except he isn’t calling me by my first name. He called me Dad.

  Chapter 17

  Kelsey

  What’s taking them so long? I wonder to myself as I continually pace the wood floor of the living room. At the very least, Dallas should have returned with an update by now. In an attempt to make up for his previous behavior toward me, he offered to check up on Jamie and make sure that he was all right. He left a while ago, leaving Lincoln, Gunnar, Landon, and Hannah behind just in case any of their enemies happened to show up. I’m not the only one who seems to be uneasy with the extent of his absence. The trio of Enforcers each stands at the ready for an attack wearing matching expressions of trepidation.

  “I don’t like this,” Lincoln growls. “I should be out there with them, not stuck inside impersonating a sentry guard. What if something has happened to them?”

  “Calm yourself, cub. Do not lose your faith, they will return victorious,” Gunnar states with unwavering certainty.

  “Faith,” Lincoln spits the word likes it’s something foul. “What the hell has our faith done for us lately? All of this time we believed every word those Archangels fed us, we ate it up like a tempting dessert because we believed we were working with the good guys, but low and behold, they are just as devious and conniving as our enemies.”

  Linc shakes his head in a sign of disgust. “The most notorious angel in existence is gunning for Jamie and for all we know the rest of the Horsemen and you tell me to have faith. After these last few weeks, I may never believe in anything ever again.”

  The werebear’s declaration has my stomach churning with guilt and apprehension. My pregnancy aside, I should have come clean about my dream chat with Michael sooner, but I hadn’t wanted to worry Jamie needlessly just in case his rantings turned out to be nothing more than empty threats. I had thought I was doing the right thing, but now I’m not so sure.

  “They’re back!” Hannah shouts, “Oh my god, no!” the she wolf tears open the door and bounds out into the darkness, the three other shifters are hot on her heels.

  Andy and I stand hand in hand both of us are holding our breaths hoping that our men are safe. As if my worst fears were plucked from my nightmares and made into reality, I watch helplessly as Jamie’s unconscious form is carried into the cabin. A gut wrenching sob escapes me as his limp body is laid on top of the couch. Tears free fall down my cheeks as I take in the sight of the man I love. His clothes are torn and soaked with blood. Every inch of his exposed pale skin is marred with tiny puncture marks. His chest slowly rises and falls with each shallow breath he takes.

  I drop to my knees beside him. “Jamie?” My voice quivers in fear. “Baby, wake up.”

  But nothing happens, not one flicker of awareness or any type of indication that he can hear me passes over his features.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I ask between sobs.

  “He’s in a coma,” a tall dark stranger answers. I have no idea who this man is, but by the expression on his face, it seems that he cares deeply for Jamie. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t anything that we can do to reverse it.”

  No, dear god, please don’t take Jamie from me. There has to be something that we can do.

  “You’re sorry?” Micah growls, his eyes blaze like an emerald wildfire. “It was your pets that did this to him.” He grabs the stranger by his shirt collar. A menacing growl reverberates from the alpha wolf. “You have two seconds to heal my brother, Azrael or I swear I will make it my life’s mission to find a way to end your miserable existence.”

  Azrael doesn’t back down, instead he steps right up into Micah’s personal space. “I’m powerful, Micah, but healing isn’t one of my attributes, and you know it. I control death not life. I can’t fix him because there is nothing to fix, his body will fight off the toxins, and he’ll wake up on his own in a day or six. Now if I were you I’d kick back and relax while I could because when Jamie does wake up, I have a feeling he’ll be in rare form.”

  “I’ll relax when my brother opens his damn eyes!”

  The entire house shakes with Micah’s furious roar. The normally composed wolf paces back and forth while running his long fingers through his wavy black hair.

  “We can’t wait that long, Azrael. What if we asked either Raphael or Gabriel for assistance, either one of those angels has the ability to heal,” Adam says as he tries to console my best friend. Her tear streaked face matches my own.

  The angel of death shakes his head. “Neither angel are viable options because thanks to you, both of them are currently doing a six-month stint in their own individual hells.”

  “I don’t care who you have to summon!” I eye each and every person in the room.

  “Somebody better do something because I refuse to stand by and do nothing.”

  At this point, I’d be willing to sign over my soul to the devil himself if it meant Jamie would wake up.

  “What about, Finn?” Andy sniffles. “He said he was supernatural, maybe he could make a potion to counteract the poison.”

  “Bloody brilliant, woman!” Adam kisses his wife’s forehead and heads into the kitchen to make his phone call.

  I ignore the numerous conversations going on around me and grab the blanket off the back of the couch, then proceed to cover my mate with the soft fabric. Jamie’s skin is growing paler by the second and his body is now ice cold.

  “Hey, what happened to the kid?” Dallas search’s wildly around the room. “He wouldn’t take off, would he? I mean, he was pretty freaked out when Jamie passed out.”

  “Don’t you mean when his father passed out?” Micah snaps.

  “No fucking way!” Lincoln mirrors my astonished expression. “If Jamie is his father then that means—” Ten sets o
f eyes swing in my direction.

  “What?” I stare open mouthed at the leader of the Enforcers.

  “Surprise,” Azrael’s tone drips with sarcasm. “Hope your heart wasn’t set on a girl.”

  I narrow my eyes at death and silently curse him for making jokes at a time like this.

  The angel cocks an eyebrow at me and smirks. “Hey, don’t be pissed at me, I had no idea who his parents were. I’m just a lowly angel. I’m not allowed to play in the Archangel reindeer games. Although, now that I think about it, I should have known Alaric was Jamie’s son, he’s so much like his father it’s scary.”

  This is so unbelievable, not only is the cat out of the bag about my pregnancy, but now I learn that my unborn child is destined to save the world. This sort of thing just isn’t possible. I mean, come on! Our future son is the key to winning the apocalypse. Consider my mind completely blown away. But then I remember what Jamie had told me about Alaric and what is to become of his family. It is mighty convenient that Michael had left that part out of his story.

  “When did he come to see you? What did he say?” Azrael’s rapid-fire questions leave my head spinning.

  Crap that is the second time the angel has made a comment on something I hadn’t verbalized out loud, which means he can read minds. Well, that’s just wonderful.

  “Who came to see you, Kelsey?” Micah’s growling command sends chills down my spine and not in the good way. Note to self, do not get on Micah’s bad side.

  “About a month ago, Michael came to me in a dream.” I sigh heavily. “He said that if I didn’t convince Jamie to help him with Alaric, he’d turn Jamie into some twisted version of his father. Then, as further punishment, you would be forced to kill him.”

  Angry snarls fill the room, even Azrael looks pissed.

  “I’ll go find the boy,” Azrael states to no one in particular. “Keep me posted on James’ condition.” Then just like that, he disappears in a cloud of gray smoke.