"What's going down?" Cassiel asked.
"My father has asked my most unstable ancestor, Lightning, to help recharge him, but my mother’s not there to make the charge go smoothly," Daniel said. "Damn Lightning."
"Agrat must have been desperate. Asking Lightning for help is like putting someone with bipolar disorder on speed and asking them to be your drinking buddy," Cassiel said.
Daniel peered closer into the crystal pool. "Dad is surrounded by the demon army Galaden sent to kill him. We'd better get down there, cousin."
"Jeez, to think my father taught us to love each other as brothers." Cassiel stretched his wings; though they were shorter than he would have liked, they did the job when he needed to fly. The tips were silver and his feathers the color of the Mediterranean in summer. Silvery sparkles of sunlight fell from his wings as he moved and they danced on the clouds below.
Daniel gave him a fond look as he fastened on his breastplate, picked up his shield from the temple floor and checked his dagger. "If I've learned anything from our time in this dimension watching those on earth below, dysfunctional families are good at giving advice but not taking it."
Cassiel slid his sword into its sheath and shifted uneasily. "Especially ours."
Agrat's body slammed down on the scorched earth, unable to move, unable to breathe as Lightning released him from his grasp. Get to your feet, dammit, he told himself as he sensed the demons moving in on him. His fingers twitched as he tried to open his hands but his whole body was still contracting. This charge was raw, searing his nervous system, far rougher than the last time he'd resorted to using Lightning's services. When he forced his eyelids open, his eyeballs rolled from side to side as he fought with his brain circuitry, trying to order it to still.
A dark shape moved toward him and others remained just behind. Every sense in his body went on alert. He detected demon energy, but not from his line of elemental demon ancestry. This was different, more a sulfurous sore that festered on evil. He recognized it immediately, just as he had three thousand years ago when his father had put him in charge of the demon army, which now served Galaden.
“I've waited so long for this moment.” Snarcus bent over him, his round fiery eyes glowing in his monkey face, his thin lips sneering with menace. "You sent me to hell for delivering the stolen whore back to the king."
"The Princess is mine. You touch her, you die!" he grit out. His throat was so parched he could barely speak.
"I burned in hell for centuries. I begged the great Lucifer to permit me to come back and torture you. I planned how I would carve you into pieces once I had you, drain your blood and eat you."
"Get back to hell." Agrat forced his limbs to move. Sparks flew off his arms and legs, but while his muscles bulged with strength, they were still rigid, refusing to let loose the fireball energy he needed to destroy Snarcus.
“You have to have your head attached to your body to send me there," Snarcus cackled.
Would Snarcus cleave his head from his body? Would Phoebe find him dismembered? He couldn't die. He had to protect her.
Damn Lightning. Where was he when he needed him to send these entities back to where they came from? Why couldn't he summon his powers?
When Snarcus lifted his sword with its evil twisted end, Agrat stared up into his face. He forced himself to a kneeling position, desperately trying to reactivate his mesmerizing skills to freeze the demon. His whole body convulsed and flared with energy sparks at the movement and his mind was too scrambled to slow the demon.
Snarcus reached down and traced the sword across Agrat's chest and over his torso so that a bright wheal of blood appeared. The monkey demon's gaze roved over Agrat. His black tongued slithered out and he licked his lips. "I have you."
Agrat grimaced, the muscles of his stomach tensing and lacing. He knew just what kind of slow death this would be if he couldn't summon his dagger and shove it into the demon's brain. He forced himself to focus on calling his dagger from its sheath inside the house. Nothing. The dagger didn't materialize. It was as if Lightning had over-charged him, short-circuiting his powers, leaving him convulsing.
"Finally you are mine." Snarcus knelt facing Agrat, leaned forward and lapped at the blood on his chest, moaning with ecstasy.
"You. Will. Die. For. This." With every effort, every iota of his concentration, he raised a shaking hand and summoned his dagger. The faithful blade materialized in his hand but the monkey demon grabbed and flicked it out of reach. Somewhere in the darkness, he heard fighting break out as the demons struggled for it as if it were a trophy.
When his father's army had been under his command three thousand years ago, Agrat had disciplined them within an inch of their lives. They had warred and conquered tribes but he had not allowed them to unleash their cruelty on the hapless conquered, especially not the women and children. Disobedience had meant instant death and the prince had vaporized many who could not control their demonic urges. For the first time in his life, he was powerless. He could sense the mounting excitement at the challenge from his former second-in-command, Snarcus.
Snarcus leaned in right up to his face, his evil, rounded eyes glowing with triumph, his mouth smeared with blood. "I always admired you as a General, but that whore made you weak. You thought of love. You no longer relished killing."
"I killed when necessary. I did my duty to protect my father's lands," he said.
"That moment of death. I savored it. Lusted for it." Snarcus's head moved lower, his tongue flicked out again and he licked along the line of fresh blood from Agrat's nipple, down over his ridged torso to his belly.
The demons around them howled in exhilaration.
Agrat summoned every inch of the strength he could command and shoved him away, but Snarcus gripped his shoulders sucking on the cut at his nipple, clearly enjoying his domination of the prince.
A growl left Agrat's throat, deep and furious. This time he shoved Snarcus back and forced himself to a standing position, his naked form sending off sparks of light as his whole body convulsed. Behind Snarcus, red eyes gleamed as the other demons under Snarcus's command waited. One order from Snarcus and Agrat knew the demons would tear him apart and feast on his corpse, wanting to take his essence and his soul to Lucifer.
“You dare to taste my blood?” Agrat formed a fist and slammed it into the demon’s face. He could not command his flame balls to roast Snarcus, but the close contact and the crunch of bone gave him pleasure.
Blood spurted from the demon’s nose as he howled with anger and stabbed at Agrat with his blade.
Agrat grunted when the blade bit into his stomach and he doubled over. He didn't care how many times Snarcus pierced his flesh, he would never ask for mercy. He would die a warrior.
“You wish to fight? You are lost.” Snarcus wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand. He laughed, the sound deep and chilling. “You have no charmed fire or weapons to fight against me. My soldiers no longer fear you now that you cannot use your powers to enforce your will on them. Even your feckless ancestor, Lightning, has left you to die."
"We want to taste him, Snarcus. Is his blood rich?" a demon asked.
"Is it powerful?" The others crowded closer.
Agrat could smell their fetid breath; feel their eyes burning into him. That Snarcus had tasted his blood sickened him.
"He is mine. Hold him," Snarcus ordered.
The demons moved forward, gripping Agrat's arms and legs, their claws securing him in position. Blood streamed from the wound in his torso over his abdomen and down his thighs.
Snarcus bent forward and lapped at it, his black tongue flicking in and out.
With his powers refusing to reactivate, Agrat strained and struggled. He roared in fury at his lack of power, fighting with the frenzy of the doomed. Sparks of red energy flared off his body. In wrath, his energy should be toxic to demons, yet the flares harmed them not.
Snarcus pulled back too, but licked his lips. "Your blood carries you
r memories. The slut loves to fuck. I will shove my forked cock into her just to see the agony on her face."
Agrat head-butted the demon. "Die!"
Snarcus screeched. He pointed his finger at Agrat's dagger held by another demon. "Give it to me." He snatched it from the demon and put it to the prince's throat. “Every demon in hell knew of my humiliation at your hands and tormented me for it. Now they will fear me when I carve off your head with your own dagger. I will tell them how I raped your princess until she died.”
"Not my Phoebe," he spat out. How could he save her when his lifeblood was draining from his body? His knees sagged.
Snarcus raised the dagger to deliver the final blow.
His princess. He'd die with her name on his lips.
A red fireball flared past Agrat, catching Snarcus in the face. The demon dropped Agrat's dagger, clutched his face and howled. It was quickly followed by another and another. Snarcus screamed as he was incinerated.
The demons holding Agrat dropped his arms in confusion and grasped their weapons, looking for the source of attack.
Agrat staggered but stayed on his feet, grounding his feet into the earth. He silently called on his ancestor, the Element of Earth, to strengthen him. Steady power flowed from deep within the ground up his legs, but Earth's energy was slow and steady, too calm to give him the full fighting power he desperately needed. With the strength he drew from Earth, he summoned his dagger, which flew into his waiting hand and he slashed the demons closest to him.
In the distance he could make out a figure, throwing fireballs with precision and skill. "It can't be," he murmured. Another elemental demon. He recognized the energy signature and for a moment wondered if he was bleeding out. Was this a hallucination?
He was the last elemental demon.
Screams echoed to the left and right of him as demon after demon vaporized under the attack. Agrat could not spare but a second to sight the figure who set terror into the hearts of the demon army. Phoebe was in the house, but until he eradicated this force, she'd never be safe. He slashed and carved up demonic entities until the elemental demon came close.
On his first glance, shock hammered his heart. The tall stranger was a mirror image of him but fairer and younger. How could this be?
A screech to Agrat's right had him fighting off a gargoyle, to the left a squat horned demon. He fought until his body was slick with blood, his own and those around him. He could not disintegrate and become one with the earth to heal, like he had been told his mother could, but the steady power ran up his legs, through his torso, mixing and surging with the Lord of Lightning's energy, forcing it through his fingertips.
"Prince, watch your back," the elemental demon cried out.
Agrat turned, just in time to block the malevolent djinn that was about to run a spear through him. Energy flared through Agrat's fingers, finally unblocking. He chopped at the djinn with his hand, ragged electricity firing from his fingers incinerating it.
The elemental demon sent fireballs and destroyed the demons behind the djinn.
Whoever he was, he knew how to fight in the same method as Agrat. Swift, strong. No hesitation.
"It's time you had someone to cover your back," the elemental demon said, with a merry grin.
"You fight well." Agrat grit out, sensing the elemental demon's energy as similar to his own, and yet there was something else in his make up too. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. No one had ever looked out for him except Phoebe. No one had ever cared enough.
The elemental demon stood at his back, covering him, and the two men fought off the remains of the army until the last of the demon force was vanquished.
Vision blurred with the uncontrolled energy racing through his system, Agrat turned. His hands still twitched, sparks flared off him and his stomach wound seeped blood. He'd never been at such a loss. "I owe you the debt of my life."
"Consider it paid. You gave me mine."
"Who are you?" Agrat asked.
"I'm your son, Daniel." He grinned and there was something playful in his expression, as if this battle had been entertainment instead of a fight to the death.
"I have no son," Agrat said. His heart banged hollow in his chest. There was a moment in time when he'd hoped that a child might be possible, after he'd met Phoebe. He no longer allowed himself to think about it. Simply having her was all he craved. "This is a cruel trick and I thank you not for it." He desired to smite the elemental demon so painful were his words, but he owed him the debt of his life and a debt must be repaid.
"Every day my mother, the Princess Phoebe, took me to visit your statue. She loved you. She used to hold me up and I'd trace the design on your breastplate. I modeled mine on yours," he said, looking down proudly at his breastplate. "I always hoped that you could hear me through the stone."
"But Galaden would not suffer a son of mine to live," Agrat said, his mind fighting to rationalize through the shock.
Daniel raised his eyebrows. "Actually, he was kinda good to me. He trained me to fight, like you trained him. We kicked ass, didn't we?"
Stunned, the world seemed to swim around him. Phoebe had birthed a child and Galaden had let him live. He had never cried tears, not since a babe. Not as a lad when his father beat him and called him evil like his mother, and never as a man, but his eyes welled. How could this be? His throat thickened as he imagined Daniel as a child, his small hands examining his statue father. He could barely speak.
He had a son.
With a trembling hand he reached out to touch him, to check this was no hallucination. His son was solid, a warrior.
His gaze ran over Daniel. Though his eyes were a different color, more a dark green with brown around his irises, the shape was almond like his own. His nose was slightly wider but hooked and his mouth wide and generous. He had the broad shoulders of a fighter and sturdy, muscular legs. Daniel was not as tall as he was, arriving at his chin, but there was no doubt that this was his son. "You fought like a warrior today. I am honored to be your father."
Daniel grinned and held up the palm of his hand. "That's so cool. High five, Dad."
Agrat stared at his son's outstretched arm. He was too weary to search the cop's memory bank to translate the meaning. Clearly this was some form of modern salutation. "A salute is not required when you serve me, Daniel."
"Er, right," Daniel said, dropping his hand.
Did Phoebe have any idea that they'd had a son together in their last life? She'd made no mention of it. Looking up at the house he saw smoke billowing out of the windows. Phoebe! "The house is burning. Help me save Phoebe." He staggered toward the house, refusing to let his blood loss defeat him.
"Come back. She isn't there," Daniel called out. "Envy kidnapped her while you fought. We must get to her before Galaden does something he'll regret. "
Agrat turned and ran toward Daniel, stumbling from the searing pain of his stomach wound. Terror for Phoebe bit deep. "Galaden has her? Where is she?"
Daniel shifted, taking one of Agrat's arms and put it around his shoulder. "I'll take you to her. Lightning has overcharged and fused your senses. You're too messed up to teleport, so hang tight."
Agrat could feel his legs crumpling despite Daniel's support. He had lost too much blood. He could barely make sense of what Daniel said. "I have to get to her."
The edges of his vision were blackening, but he pulled out his dagger determined to plunge it into Galaden's heart.
Chapter 14
Phoebe's eyes flickered open. She was in Rachael's apartment and a sword was pointed at her throat. A tidal wave of fear swooped over her. Yet under the drowning certainty that she was facing death, anger surged. "Coward! Look me in the eye when you kill me."
"This must be done," Galaden said, his voice stern, but his weapon tilted back slightly.
"You cold bastard, will you tell Rachael you slashed my throat in her apartment?" She knew his adoration of Rachael was his Achilles' heel, the only thing that raised what remain
ed of humanity in him. It gave her seconds. With her growing strength giving her speed, she dodged the sword at her throat and pushed herself to her feet, scrabbling away from him.
Galaden blanched and stepped back at the mention of Rachael's name, but he kept his sword unsheathed.
A flash startled Phoebe. In the corner an angel with azure wings and silver tips appeared. "Father, stop!"
"I have made a vow, Cassiel. You know the penalty if I do not do this," Galaden said.
"Cassiel?" Phoebe thought of the small beatific child she'd just dreamed about. He was real. A live grown-up being. In maturity, he was almost as tall as his father but wider and stronger in build. He had the classical beauty of an angel but he appeared more vibrant and passionate, more human. His crystal-blue eyes flashed and his mouth was turned down.
"You'll have to kill me to get to her," Cassiel said. He stormed across the room and stood in front of her.
"I almost can't believe I'm seeing you." Which meant the dream she'd just had was true, too. Phoebe's heart hammered at the short reprieve from death. She stood behind Cassiel, trying to gather her wits. The heavenly scent of frankincense came from his wings and she longed to bury her hands in them to ground herself in her terror.
"I'm sorry you have to find out this way. I'm here to protect you," Cassiel said.
"Thank you, Cassiel." Words couldn't express the gratitude she was feeling at the moment. She was sure she was changing; she could feel renewed goddess strength running through her, but she couldn't defend herself against Galaden. She'd tried that and the angel had fought back using powers she couldn't block. He was too old a being, too dangerous for her to fight.
"You are my son," Galaden said, his eyes blazing. "You must do my will. I order you to stand aside."
Cassiel's whole body shuddered but he didn't move. "I've come to tell you that Rachael is dying. You've got to return her life-force. I can help heal her, but I need you by my side. I don't have your sort of power."
Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) Page 16