by Susan Illene
Over and over, more waves of minions came out to slow progress, but eventually Honor reached one of the Gregorian stones buried under cement. A warlock with her used a spell to make a hole, and the young sensor cut her finger, letting her blood drip onto the stone. Bartol had no doubt she’d completed the job when she looked up and grinned in satisfaction.
Patrick reached his target next, but this time the stone was on top of a light pole. Several werewolves had to climb onto each other’s backs to get at it. In the meantime, that left them vulnerable. Kerbasi shot at enemies as fast as he could, but it was clear he was steadily sapping his powers. The snipers continued to fire their shots, helping to even the odds a little more. Still, it wasn’t enough. More supernaturals they’d held in waiting for the main battle rushed into the fight. They provided a wall that held back Haagenti’s followers who were still pouring out of the warehouse. How many were inside, Bartol couldn’t begin to guess.
As the werewolves finally got their last guy near the top of the light pole, Haagenti stepped out of the hole-ridden warehouse. The demon’s red gaze shot toward Kerbasi who continued to repel any enemies that got past the supernatural wall.
The powerful demon raised his hands, and a clap of thunder roared overhead. In the next moment, lightning streaked down and struck the guardian with full force. Kerbasi’s body fell to the ground, and he shook violently with convulsions as the electrical charge raced through him. Haagenti had used the guardian’s own weapon against him. He frowned, though, when the injured man forced himself up to his knees and shot his lightning at the demon. It hit Haagenti, forcing him back a step, but the charge didn’t harm him nearly as much. He’d grown too powerful. Kerbasi sent more bolts in rapid succession, shaking but determined. He was buying the sensors as much time as he could.
The demon growled and raised his cane.
Another boom sounded from the sky, followed by an even brighter lightning strike. It shot straight down toward Kerbasi, flaring over his head and body. The guardian screamed as his skin blackened and smoke poured from his eyes, ears, and mouth. His insides were being cooked. He collapsed onto the ground, unmoving. From a distance, Bartol could not be certain if the guardian was dead or not.
He cast a quick glance at the werewolves. They were finally down from the light pole, and Patrick was already dropping his blood onto the stone. As soon as he finished, his protectors grabbed him and started running toward their next target where another Gregorian stone waited. Moving away quickly wasn’t going to save them, though. Haagenti was following them in quick strides, intent on taking the team out.
Remiel appeared, white wings open as he flew through the sky toward the warehouse. He used his smiting power—a powerful beam of light—to strike at the demon, knocking him to the ground. Haagenti shook himself and got up moments later, eyes glowing redder than ever.
The archangel touched his feet to the pavement and closed his wings before sending out another ray of light. The demon attempted to dodge it, but his shoulder was still grazed, leaving a smoldering hole in his skin. Haagenti looked up at the sky, raised his cane toward it, and shouted. A loud boom struck, and the largest burst of lightning yet shot toward Remiel. The archangel dodged out of the way, but his wings were caught in the brilliant charge. He cried out as the feathers caught fire.
“This is taking too long,” Bartol said, itching to run toward Haagenti.
Raguel didn’t appear any more happy to wait on the sidelines. “The sensors are nearly finished.”
Around the side of the warehouse, Bartol caught sight of Honor giving a thumbs up to her protectors. She’d had two stones to nullify and appeared to have completed her job. Patrick was very nearly to his second, which was protected inside a crate that the werewolves were tearing apart. Several other sensors were fleeing the scene, finished with their targets. There was only two others unaccounted for, but they were likely on the other side of the building out of sight.
“We could move closer,” Bartol suggested.
“Not yet.” Raguel stood stone still. “This is an old demon who will remember who I am from the old wars. If I reveal myself while he is still within the stone’s field, he may flee, and we might not catch him.”
Bartol acceded to his father’s wishes, though a part of him still wanted to rush forward. Haagenti wouldn’t recognize him, and he could catch the demon off guard. But knowing patience was more important, he forced himself to stay put as Patrick dove his hands into the open crate and brought out the stone. His palm was already smeared with blood, so his job was completed in moments.
Haagenti nearly caught up with the sensor—no more than a dozen paces away.
The werewolves urged Patrick to run while they covered his back. The demon shot one of them down in a single strike of fire before turning his attention to the second. Just before he attacked, Remiel rose to his feet once more, wings nothing more than blackened bone and cartilage that hung limply. He worked a sphere of light into his hands that grew larger than a beach ball and flung it at Haagenti.
It struck the demon in the back like a massive bowling ball, toppling him over. The two remaining werewolves and Patrick made good on their escape while their opponent was down. Haagenti lay for a long moment before struggling back to his feet. Static filled the air as the demon gathered his power, feeding it into his cane for a strike that could very well kill Remiel. The archangel should have run, but he stood his ground making himself a target so that the rest of the sensors could complete their tasks and flee.
From the corner of Bartol’s eye, he caught Melena waving at him from the next block over. He trained his ears to hear what she was shouting. The wind had picked up, and the buzz of the locusts overhead made it hard to listen, but he managed to make out her words.
“It’s done. You can fight now!”
Bartol glanced at his father. “We’re cleared to fight.”
Raguel’s golden eyes lit up, and a moment later he disappeared. He resurfaced in a flash of light in front of Haagenti and wrapped his hands around the demon’s neck. The archangel held on tightly, keeping his enemy still as he drew out his essence.
Bartol rushed past the broken down warehouse fence to grab Remiel and hand him off to Lucas, who’d also arrived on the scene. The other nephilim took the wounded angel and flashed away. Meanwhile, strike teams and supernaturals poured onto the warehouse grounds, taking out every minion that appeared so that Raguel and Bartol could focus on Haagenti.
The powerful demon finally pushed back against Raguel, sending the archangel flying. Bartol’s father landed on his back and skidded several feet across the pavement. He struggled to get up as his opponent charged toward him with angry red eyes and an upraised cane.
Bartol started charging forward to help Raguel, but halfway there, movement at the warehouse entrance caught his attention. Haagenti’s followers were racing inside while Tormod was coming out, emanating intense dark power as he raised his arms. His vermillion eyes had a crazed look in them unlike anything Bartol had seen before, but he knew one thing for certain, the nerou had been corrupted, and his demon side had taken over. Just as they’d feared, Haagenti had done the worst to him.
As Tormod swept his arms down, millions of locusts fell to the ground, landing on top of everyone in the area and covering the ground and buildings. Bartol bowed low against the onslaught. The other fighters on their side ducked and covered their heads. For several minutes, it rained dead locusts, and no one was able to move or see anything.
As soon as the air cleared, Bartol glanced toward his former student. Tormod had his gaze uplifted once more. He shouted, and in moments, balls of fire began falling from the sky like meteors, striking everywhere except close to the warehouse. Nearby buildings lit on fire, and people screamed as they were hit. Troops and supernaturals raced together for the warehouse where Haagenti’s followers had run, noting it was the only place not getting struck.
Bartol ran forward, tackling Tormod to the ground. Putting hi
s full body weight on the boy was like hugging a high voltage wire. Something had charged the nerou with enough energy to power a city. It was painful to touch him. Bartol wanted to leap away but clamped down on the urge. Keeping the struggling boy distracted was the only way to stop him from calling down more balls of fire.
He pushed through the pain and met the nerou’s corrupted eyes. “Tormod, stop!”
“I serve Haagenti and no one else,” the young man responded in an eerie voice.
“This is not you. Come back to me,” Bartol pleaded. He hated seeing his young charge behave this way, knowing he must have fought hard before giving into Haagenti and his demon side.
Tormod reared his head back and bit him in the shoulder, tearing into Bartol’s flesh. He had no choice except to punch the nerou in the face to get free. It killed him to hurt the young man, but he didn’t have a choice. Tormod had lost all sense of himself.
The nerou growled, freeing his arms to raise them high.
Adrenaline rushed through Bartol, giving him greater power as he punched the younger man again. Tormod didn’t fight back. He lay utterly still with his arms stretched upward, calling down more fire. Explosions went off nearby.
“Stop!” Bartol commanded, punching him again to break up the chants.
“I’ve got him,” Yerik shouted through the milieu. “Go help the archangel!”
Bartol didn’t respond right away, caught up in the violence of the moment. It took Tormod’s father ripping him off the young man to jar him out of his single-minded determination. All he’d been able to think about were the screams of the wounded nearby as the fireballs hit and how he’d needed to stop it.
He rose to his feet. “You better be willing to do whatever it takes to stop your son.”
“I will,” Yerik said, determination in his gaze as he gripped Tormod by the shoulders.
Satisfied, Bartol turned on his heels and raced toward Haagenti and his father. Raguel lay smoking on the ground after what must have been another burst of lightning. Caius had joined the fight at some point, already showing signs of wear and tear from battle. Using his hands and mystical energy, he formed spears of ice and lifted them into the air. That had always been the nephilim’s special power—manipulating water. He flung his hands forward, sending the pointed ice cycles straight at Haagenti. But before they could strike, they hit an invisible wall and crashed down.
Caius stood stunned for a moment, but he recovered and charged the demon at full speed. He got one good blow to the face before Haagenti sent him sailing through the air with an uppercut to the chest. The nephilim smashed into a building across the street and disappeared through a gaping hole. Bartol wanted to check on his friend, but he couldn’t afford the time it would take.
Raguel had gotten back to his feet, but he was covered in wounds and stooped over, heaving from who knew how many strikes from Haagenti. The archangel wasn’t going to last much longer. The demon, on the other hand, hardly looked tired at all. He had wounds covering him, but they didn’t seem to affect him. He lifted his hands and began shooting smaller streaks of lightning in rapid succession at Raguel as if he could continue to do so for the rest of the day.
The archangel shook from the onslaught, stumbling back with each strike.
Bartol couldn’t waste another moment if he wanted to save his father. He used the demon’s focus on Raguel to his advantage and snuck behind Haagenti. He leaped onto his back, wrapping his arms around the powerful man’s neck. Revolting dark energy crawled over his skin like worms searching for a way to bore inside him. It turned his stomach and made bile rise in his throat, but none of that mattered except finishing the job. He had to ignore it.
Bartol used their close contact to pull at the demon’s energy from every point where they touched. His prey stopped shooting lightning at Raguel and spun around in a circle, trying to fling Bartol off. But he’d grabbed the demon in a death grip, and he would not let go. This was his chance. Either he stuck to his goal and defeated the demon, or he would lose the fight and possibly die. He would not lose. Bartol had done enough of that in his life, and for once, he would win and save everyone. No more would they look at him in pity.
Fresh determination surged through Bartol, fueling him like never before. This was the time to lose control and let the berserker inside him free. Acting on pure instinct, Bartol grasped the demon’s neck as tight as he could and twisted.
He grunted as the steely spine did not give. Haagenti howled in rage, falling backward and crushing Bartol onto the ground. They rolled several times over rutted and fire-damaged pavement, loose rock digging into their skin. As soon as they came to a stop, Bartol tried once more, gritting his teeth and shouting loudly as he pushed every muscle in his body to work at full force. The demon’s neck snapped, cracking loudly, and his body slumped, unmoving and vulnerable.
Bartol pushed Haagenti off of him and kneeled next to the decrepit form, pressing his hands into the demon’s chest. The soul was still inside the body and would no doubt regenerate power quickly. The dark essence surged through Bartol’s palms, coming faster with every second. There was so much of it that he had to slow down the flow to keep up. Long moments passed, and the demon began regaining consciousness. He struggled under Bartol, but Raguel managed to crawl over and help hold Haagenti down.
“Don’t give up, son. This one is powerful, but it is nothing you weren’t built to handle.”
He wasn’t certain about that—the flow burned like acid through him. Bartol’s teeth chattered, and his body shook as wave after wave of essence entered his body. He worked to dissipate it as fast as he could the way his father had taught him, but there seemed to be no end. This wasn’t like the other demons he’d used for practice. Their energy dissipated in moments, a minute at most with the stronger ones.
Haagenti growled, twisting back and forth but losing too much power to put up much of a fight. “You won’t win. Stop before you kill yourself!”
The demon was trying to feed on his doubts. Bartol nearly let go, but Raguel stopped him. “Don’t, or we’ll lose this fight. There is no way either of us could start this process again anytime soon.”
“I’m trying,” Bartol said through gritted teeth.
“Give up! Give up!” the demon urged, tone taking on a panicked edge. “I’m too strong, and my power will kill you.”
He must have suspected what it was doing to Bartol. The pain was climbing through his arms, into his chest, and up to his head. He’d heard about migraines, but this was the first time he’d experienced one. It felt as if daggers pierced his brain from every angle and black dots filled his vision. Still, he kept his palms pressed to the demon’s chest, listening to Raguel’s repeated encouragement.
“Think of your mate,” the archangel said. “She’s depending on you to win this battle.”
It helped. Bartol straightened his spine and pushed harder into Haagenti, reaching for the demon’s very soul. He wanted to crush it and destroy the evil being inside. This was one enemy who would never rise to fight again. Long minutes passed, stretching to eternity where he barely noted the balls of fire had stopped, and there were no more sounds of fighting. Bartol didn’t know what that meant, but he hoped his side had won their part of the battle.
Finally, with one last pull, he captured the rest of Haagenti’s essence. It ripped through him like a storm, searing his skin and blinding him. But just when he thought he couldn’t take the pain anymore, Bartol felt his body float upward, away from the dead demon below. The agony vanished and in its place power surged through his veins. In that moment, he’d been rendered invincible.
Nothing could hurt him now. His tongue swelled as he suddenly craved blood and death—as much of it as he could get. Tiny life forms were all around him, ripe for the taking. He would consume them all, and then he’d search for more until nothing was left and his hunger was sated.
Chapter 29
Cori
Cori and Ariel sat huddled in the downstairs
bathroom where they’d been taking shelter. For the last hour, it had been uproariously loud, and they’d worried the house wouldn’t survive the onslaught. When it was clear the assault wouldn’t stop anytime soon, the former angel had insisted on them going to the innermost room of the house just to be safe.
First, the locusts had arrived, filling the air and blocking the sun’s rays. The buzzing of the swarms as they passed was enough to fill anyone with dread and visions of death by hungry bugs. Piercing screams rose up from outside as not everyone got to safety fast enough. Cori and Ariel had rushed around checking all the windows and doors to make sure everything was closed and locked. Meanwhile, Micah went out to save people caught in the maelstrom at Cori’s request. He hadn’t been happy about leaving her side, but he’d done as she asked.
Then about twenty minutes ago, firebombs shot down from the sky. They’d struck the streets and buildings at random, splintering the ground with every impact. Cori had been certain the apocalypse was upon them, but then everything had turned quiet just a few minutes before.
She slowly got up from her crouching position. “Think it’s over?”
Ariel frowned in concentration. “I believe so.”
Her powers were too far drained from the protection spell on Cori for her to use her prescient abilities, but she seemed confident enough. They opened the downstairs bathroom door and peeked out. To their relief, there didn’t appear to be any damage to the house. They hurried to the front window next and pulled back the curtain. Dead locusts covered the ground. Down the street, they noted a huge crater in the road. None of the homes near them appeared to be damaged, but a couple of places down the block had been demolished.
Micah came up the sidewalk, clothing singed and hanging in tatters. Had he done something to stop the firebombs from penetrating close to them? Cori hadn’t meant for him to do anything that could actually get him hurt when she sent him outside.