by Amy Braun
Like everything I did, it hadn’t really bothered me when I’d been doing it. Then I started thinking about my actions when it was too late.
Dro was standing beside me, watching the Gate of Heaven burn. We made the choice together, and we both thought the same thing:
Did we make the right sacrifice? Was destroying Lucifer’s chance into Heaven worth trapping the angels from it?
“Sephiel,” Max asked, his dark eyes still fixed on the fire. “What happens now?” He looked at the angel. “If someone innocent dies, where do they go?”
“Heaven is not closed to the dead, Max. The Heaven Gate was only for living angels to use. When a soul perishes, it shall ascend to the clouds to the Gates of Saint Peter. When our vessels die, that is where we go as well. It is another part of Heaven, but it is different from the home I knew.”
Sephiel’s voice was full of sorrow. I knew what it was like to miss the home you grew up in. To miss the person you used to be. But I was only twenty years old. Sephiel had been around since about the dawn of time. He’d always lived in Heaven. Now he would be shut away from it until he died. I don’t know how he was able to bear all this anguish. It was enough to kill a person.
Dro gasped sharply. I turned away from the burning Gate and looked at her. She was staring at the hills behind us. I followed her line of sight. At first I didn’t see anything. Then I blinked, and saw that we’d been discovered, and that we were completely outnumbered.
They had a small army this time; a dozen possessed people, six Wretches, six hellhounds, two Knights. Mateo and Drake stood in front of them. Lucifer was in the center.
They were still dressed in the clothes they’d worn in Bullhead City, but something was obviously different about Lucifer. His soulless black eyes were narrowed to slits, and I didn’t need to read them very long to see what the problem was.
He was furious.
Chapter 17
For a moment, nobody did anything. We were too afraid to move. Then Lucifer started walking toward us, and we split into action.
I yanked the hatchet off my hip. Warrick pulled out a Beretta handgun from inside his leather jacket. Sephiel took out two short, curved blades I never realized he was carrying from his jacket. Dro filled one of her hands with hellfire. Max desperately grabbed onto her and me, trying to open the movens caeli.
The golden tube was yanked out of his hand. It hung in midair under Lucifer’s control, until he made it explode into a million tiny shards.
Lucifer was only about ten feet away from us now. I gripped the hatchet tighter.
“You destroyed the Gate to Heaven,” he said in his beautiful, paralyzing voice. “Why?”
“So you couldn’t destroy it,” Dro told him. The tremble in her voice almost couldn’t be heard.
Lucifer turned his black gaze on her. “What you have done is irreversible. You have barred souls from claiming redemption. You have stripped all the angels on earth from their wings. They shall not have a chance to see Paradise. Why would you deny that to them?”
“We didn’t do it to keep them out,” I said.
Lucifer’s head twisted to mine, his perfect, white hair moving ever so slightly. As soon as his black eyes hit my dark ones, I felt a delicious chill slither down my spine. It was pain and pleasure, fear and lust. I wanted to run from it as much as I craved it. I tightened the grip on my hatchet.
“We did it to keep you out.”
The King of Hell narrowed his eyes on me again. Something flashed through them, looking like a shooting star over oil. Then the pain hit.
I dropped to the ground, screaming in agony as a million invisible claws dug into my skin and tried to rip it from my bones. My flesh stretched like it was hanging on meat hooks, gripping tighter and tighter until it was in knots. I couldn’t hear anything but my own screams.
Just as I thought I was going to pass out, I felt a rush of heat from my left. The pain snapped off, leaving me heaving for breath. My throat was hoarse, my heart and head pounding like hammers. Someone was picking me up. I swayed on my feet, but Warrick held me in place. I blinked at him until he knew I was fine. Then he was pointing one of his guns at Lucifer. I reassured my grip on my hatchet, and turned to see how I was saved.
Once again, my sister had gotten between me and the most dangerous enemy I could imagine.
“If you do that again, it’s going to be the last thing you ever do,” Dro warned.
Lucifer didn’t scowl or start throwing poisonous words around. He just stood there, looking at his daughter. Even now, he still seemed astonished that she wouldn’t drop everything and come running to his side.
But he was starting to learn that Dro’s free will couldn’t be manipulated as easily as he designed. I smiled and let myself feel a little smug, thinking that I was to blame for that.
“You think physical pain is the worst I can do, my daughter? That is ecstasy compared to what I shall bestow upon you. I shall strike you where it shall wound you the most, and you shall never know it was my intention. I will destroy you so intricately and so exquisitely, that you will believe you have brought it upon yourself.”
His words seemed to freeze the air, and his eyes nearly made me beg to hear his voice again. Dro didn’t say anything, but she never backed down. Hellfire covered her arms and was starting to spread to her torso. Lucifer didn’t blink.
“Though we shall see how much physical pain you and those you love can truly endure,” he said coldly. “Kill them.”
The demons didn’t hesitate. The Possessors, Wretches, and hellhounds raced forward. Dro threw her hands out, huge streams of hellfire surging toward the beasts. The light was almost blinding, but she controlled it. I heard monsters hiss and howl in pain, though I couldn’t see how many of them were actually being killed.
Then she was thrown back, half of her body crunching inward, like someone had just hit her in the stomach.
That someone being Lucifer, who wasn’t even touched by her hellfire.
Dro landed hard on her back, rolling to get to her feet. By the time she stood up, we were all standing beside her. Sephiel was the first one to get into the fight. His wings might be gone, but he was still an incredible warrior. The first Possessor, who was a big man in a black T-shirt, curled his hands into tight fists. Before any punches could be thrown at him, Sephiel swung his blades at the Possessor like he was closing a pair of scissors. He moved his head back to avoid decapitation, but the weapons still sliced open his throat and it gushed blood.
A Wretch pounced for Sephiel’s back, but he lashed out with a perfect sidekick that crashed into the ruined angel’s head. Sephiel was moving quick and efficiently, but a dark armored Knight was rushing toward him with the scythe raised high. Sephiel’s attention went to the bigger problem, which meant he didn’t see the female Possessor lifting a knife from her belt to stab him in the back.
Which was kind of amusing, because she didn’t see me. I drew a knife and threw it at her. The silver blade sank directly into her heart, making her scream and collapse. A Wretch howled and loped its way to me. It screeched as it curved its arm back to hit me. I stepped back so its swing went wide, then rushed forward and slammed my hatchet into the center of its face. The Wretch shrieked and tried to bat me away. I pulled my hatchet free and drew the blade along its throat. The creature twitched once before it began caving inward and crumbling to ash.
A sharp bark came from my left. I somersaulted out of the way as a hellhound launched itself in my direction. I kicked back to catch the demonic dog in the muzzle. It gave me the chance to turn and face it head on.
Hellhounds were the size of a small horse. Their lean, muscled bodies were hairless and oily. Each paw held five hooked claws. Their eyes were completely black except for the disgusting red veins. The lips were peeled back in a terrifying snarl to show off the sets of jagged teeth. Two small horns rested behind its pointed ears. I’d faced one a couple months ago in the tunnels where Dro was trapped, and it had absolutely terrified
me. I hoped never to face one of these beasts again, but I couldn’t say I was surprised at Fate’s sense of humor.
The hellhound made a choking, barking sound before leaping at me. I twisted away at the last possible second so I was standing by its ribs. I wrapped one arm around the hellhound’s neck to hold it in place, then started hacking down on its back with my blessed hatchet.
It seemed like a good idea, and it would have worked, if hellhounds weren’t so damn strong.
The beast thrashed and wrenched its head from side to side until it wriggled away from me. Then it pounced on my chest.
I hit the ground hard, sharp black claws digging into my shoulders. I gritted my teeth against the pain and the awful smell of rotting blood and sulfur coming from its breath. I looked into its face, staring at pupil-less black eyes and bloody veins. The hellhound snarled and opened its jaws, aiming them at my throat.
A blast of hellfire struck the monster before it could bite me. The beast gave a surprised yelp as the white flames covered its body. The hellhound stepped off of me. I lurched into a sitting position and smashed my hatchet into the side of its head. The hellhound twitched and collapsed onto the grass, slowly dissolving into dark powder.
I got to my feet and looked in the direction of the blast. Sephiel was fighting as hard as he could against both of the Knights– was he insane?!– carefully jumping aside when their scythes got too close.
Dro was focusing on the remaining Possessors and some hellhounds. She pushed out with both hands, consuming the demons trying to rush her. The wall of white flame lit up the entire hill like a beacon. They stood no chance against her. I couldn’t see Lucifer, but he was probably standing back, enjoying the show before he made his move.
Max was on Dro’s other side, holding out his hand. She took a quick chance to yank the silver knife from her boot and slapped it into his hand. Max wasn’t a very good fighter, but he did his best against a Possessor that swung at him. He stabbed the blade into the possessed man’s stomach, stepping back to avoid being punched in the chin. Black smoke exploded out of the dying man’s mouth, trying to smother Max. The smoky Possessor shrieked when he felt the barrier protecting Max, thanks to the sigil of Michael tattooed over his heart. The Possessor spiraled away into the night.
Gunfire cracked on my right. I jumped and turned in its direction. Warrick shot a hellhound that had been running for me. He was as calm and cool as water, keeping his aim focused on the speeding monster’s face. Bullet after bullet drilled into the hellhound’s face, until it finally collapsed onto the grass. While it was crumbling into ash, Warrick turned his head and focused on the beast he wanted to kill the most.
Drake.
Since he didn’t have time to reload, Warrick tucked his gun away and drew his combat knife. Drake was grinning maniacally as he charged the demon slayer, taking out his own Bowie knife. The second they were in arm’s reach, they started hacking at each other. Warrick blocked Drake’s knife with his free hand, reversing the grip on his blade to drive it into Drake’s stomach. The bounty hunter was quicker, grabbing the knife and trying to rip it away. Warrick kicked Drake’s knee and drove his knee into the larger man’s stomach. Drake wrenched his knife-hand free and slashed at Warrick’s face. The blade was so close I swore it nicked his cheek.
Warrick was so busy fighting Drake that he didn’t notice the Wretch coming up on his right. But I did. I wanted to keep my hatchet, so I took another throwing knife out of my jacket. I hurled it at the tortured angel, the blade sinking home in the middle of its back. The Wretch shrieked and stumbled, whirling around to see what hit it. Sickly yellow eyes fixed on me, and then the monster started running for me on all fours, like a charging bear.
Something moved out of the corner of my eye. I ducked on instinct. A heavy machete blade cut through the air just over my head. I twisted while I was low, slashing the hatchet across my attacker’s leg. He cursed and buckled. I scowled at Mateo’s familiar voice. I flipped it in my hand, bringing the weapon upward to slice open his face.
Mateo caught my wrist just as the blade nicked his chin. His dark brown eyes were filled with total contempt, an inhuman snarl twisting his lips. He slashed the machete toward my ribs, but I turned around him before the weapon could slide into my body. The motion allowed me to wrench my hatchet free. I kept spinning until I was behind him. I jammed my elbow into the back of his head, then sent my boot into his face with a scorpion-kick.
I spun on my heel, ready to drive my hatchet into Mateo’s back. Then I heard a sharp howl and turned my head to the right. The Wretch slammed into me, knocking me onto my back. I grunted and pushed up my knees so it couldn’t crush me. It screamed and roared all its insanity at me. I glanced to the side, seeing Mateo shaking off my kick and walking toward me. He spun the machete in his hand, ready to drive it into me somehow.
A burst of white light filled the left of my vision. Dro was using her powers in the fight again, trying to push back Lucifer and all the other demons swarming her, Sephiel, and Max. I needed to get over to them.
I slashed open the throat of the Wretch with the hatchet. The blade cut so deep I felt it scrape against neck bones. It shuddered and began corroding. I glanced to my right again. Mateo’s boots were right there. I twisted and threw the crumbling Wretch onto his feet then rolled away. I got to one knee as he slashed the machete down toward my neck. I stopped it with the crevice of my hatchet, where the blade met the handle. The weapon nearly splintered in half.
The back of his fist cracked against my cheek. My head snapped to the side, the entire world spinning. I propped myself onto my elbows and shook it off, just before Mateo kicked me in the ribs. I winced as pain flared in my side, and landed on my back. I brought my hatchet up, aiming to catch him in the leg.
He kicked my wrist down and pinned it to the grass. I reached for another knife, stopping when I felt the tip of the machete touch my throat.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I looked at my furious ex-lover. I was hearing demonic screams and cries of pain from my friends, but I couldn’t move.
“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this,” he said in a dead voice. “It was the only thing that kept me going. I wish I could make you suffer more, but it would be a waste of time.”
It was a mistake to provoke my enemies, but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I told him. “Your dad tortured me, and look what happened to him.”
Watching Mateo’s anger build was like watching a steadily growing fire. It started off small and relatively harmless. Then before you knew it, the fire was a towering inferno you couldn’t run from.
His lips peeled back in a malicious scowl. He raised the machete to drive it into my neck.
Something caught his eye, just before he could kill me. He stepped back as a white arrow flew by his head. I reached into my jacket and grabbed another knife, rolling away from Mateo and getting to my feet. I stepped back to keep distance on him, then followed his line of sight.
About half of the demons were piles of ash, but Sephiel’s clothes were covered in blood. He was barely standing. Max was clutching his ribs, hunched over and grimacing in pain. Dro was on her knees, one hand pressed into the grass and another over her heart.
Lucifer was standing with his back to her. He commanded his Knights to face the other side of the hilltop.
Where all the angels were.
There were around a hundred of them. I was staring at sea of white trench coats. All of them were armed to the teeth with swords, knives, bows, spears, and shields. I could even see one with a morning star.
Michael was at the front of the army. He held a sword in and shield in his hands, looking just as fierce and as powerful as ever. If he was in pain from falling, it was impossible to tell. His blue eyes fixed on Lucifer, but not with hate. Just with an unwavering determination to fight to the death.
Behind Michael, dressed in the same fashion as their leader, were the rema
ining archangels. Gabriel wasn’t there. Rorikel seemed to have taken his place. He held a white recurve bow in his hands, a single white arrow nocked against the string.
“I must say, Michael,” Lucifer said, casually taking a step forward. “I did not expect you to arrive, since you have now fallen. How did you come to this place?”
“It is not your concern, Lucifer,” replied the archangel. He had a deep voice than demanded respect. “But do not think that this fall has completely stripped the archangels of power. You should know better than that.”
While they were talking, I was making my way to my sister. I kept Mateo in my line of sight, and further back I could see Warrick and Drake were easing away from each other. They both looked exhausted, but they could see something major was about to happen. Their Battle Royale was going to have to be put on hold, again.
“See reason, Michael. There is no victory for you here. If you have not become human now, you shall be one soon. Heaven was your source of power. It will drain away from you, leaving you nothing more than a mortal shell. I am willing to let you surrender. It would be a shame if I were forced to slaughter every member of the Host.”
“The centuries have kept your tongue silver, brother,” the archangel replied. “But you waste your words. We shall not surrender. If we cannot return to our home, then we shall make a new one of earth. And it is not a place where you belong.”
I winced. That doesn’t sound good.
I was only a couple feet away from Dro when Lucifer turned his head toward us. I froze to the spot.
“Do not place your ire on me, but on them,” the King of Hell accused. “It is they who burned the Gate to Paradise.”
Michael’s intense azure eyes met mine for the first time. They flashed with a blazing rage that could have probably incinerated us on the spot once. He hated us. We’d taken him away from his home, he probably couldn’t move from the vessel he was currently in, and he was getting weaker with each passing second. Michael narrowed his eyes on my sister. The anger burned even brighter than before. Any chance of reasoning with him had flown out of the window.