Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3

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Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3 Page 68

by Azure Boone


  He came to a sudden halt and she nearly ran over him. A quick glance around him showed a tight knot of the creatures blocking the path forward en masse.

  She took a slow turn, searching for a way out. Even as she looked, the things seemed to multiply just at the outer limit of her peripheral vision.

  "We're surrounded." She kept her voice to a whisper, counting on Toren to hear and hoping the creatures didn't understand English.

  "Motherfuck!” The rage in his voice startled her. Without looking at her, he muttered harshly, “Listen to me. I want you to use your new sight. If one should get to you, locate the spinal cord and think of a weapon to sever it. Do you understand me.” It was a gritted command more than a question.

  “Well-what about my guns?”

  “No! The spinal cord is too small a target and it'll be moving. Please, just do as I say.”

  His terror seeped into her blood and made her panic. “Can’t you-you do that pin cushion trick?” Her voice sounded shrill as black fur and huge teeth closed in like a noose.

  “The auction is too close to here and that's a bigger power surge than flashing,” he whispered, seeming breathless before he even started. “Stay close and do not move away from me, no matter what. And I love you."

  "You lead and I'll follow,” she hissed back, “and quit talking like you’re saying goodbye, you’re freaking me hell out!”

  "Yes ma'am." Crouching for action, he muttered, "Let’s go." The huge pistol, so big she would have had to work to lift it, disappeared and was replaced by a shimmering metal Grim Reaper sickle, the handle roughly eight foot, and the wicked hooked blade nearly as long as Sam was tall.

  Toren spun into motion just before her, whirling and slashing with the sickle. Blood and tissue literally rained around him. The deaths were swift and complete, only the whistling whir of the blade accompanied the gurgled slurping and ferocious snarls of the prey fighting to get to the slayer.

  Sam used the full range of her spiritual vision, but Toren glowed so bright, she had to shield his body with a hand to be able to see clearly.

  She screamed when one of the creatures ran in an arc around him toward their rear. Toren’s wing shot out a dagger, dropping the beast in its tracks. Others followed the first beast and Toren's wings became weapons of mass destruction. A lethal hail of silver daggers sprang outward, each finding multiple targets before returning to its original place. Seemingly recharged, the blades flew again, repeating the entire process countless times.

  The creatures groveled, tripped, and fell over one another as they strove to reach Toren. The tide never ebbed, and as they climbed the mountain of their dead brethren, their speed actually increased. Almost as if someone had cranked the switch up to NOW KILL NOW, leaving them powerless to do anything other than continue trying to reach Toren and Sam.

  Sam watched, terror making her heart pound heavily. At any second, a monster would break through the protective wall of death Toren created around her. She was right.

  Larger than the others, the monkey man launched clear over the dead and dying masses and landed inside the kill zone. Toren roared, a metallic sound that blasted the creature against the heavy log wall of the house with tremendous force. The wall shuddered, but held, and the beast crumpled to the ground.

  But another followed the first and then another. And another. Then a dozen. Then an avalanche.

  Shit, Toren couldn’t hold that many off. Shit, they were coming!

  Sam began searching for spinal cords, trying to single them out amid the swarming sea of body parts, all fully visible. The first one she could distinguish, she imagined crushed and its owner fell to the ground. “Oh fuck,” she gasped in awe.

  Swallowing fast, she searched for another and did it again, watching the same thing happen. Practice made perfect and before long, she could drop two every second. Feeling like her eyes were a vehicle to drive and coordinate with her mind, she squealed and danced and squeezed her fists in her monumental effort to make the motionless task go faster.

  Another creature broke free, clear of both Toren's efforts and hers. Reacting instinctively, Sam pulled her revolver and shot, hitting the spinal cord on the first try. That was easy! All those countless hours practicing with a six-shooter weren't wasted after all. She began using the firearm exclusively as her weapon, and soon it was as easy as swatting flies. A hell of a lot easier than using her imagination to do it.

  When there was an obvious lessening in the numbers coming at them, she began a slow advance toward the creatures. She fired her pistol like a gunfighter, fanning the hammer back with her left hand and letting it drop to fire. Her new angelic speed coupled with the lack of need to pull the trigger for each shot made her gun sound like an automatic weapon.

  Soon, no more targets came before her and she turned to search the vicinity. She found Toren watching her with his brows raised, looking down at her gun. "Holy shit."

  “What?” She asked, confused inspecting her gun.

  He shook his head a second then turned it a little, seeming to listen. The ground began to tremble, as if a massive herd had stampeded. A glance around showed no livestock but the shaking intensified. An earthquake?

  The shaking stopped.

  A few seconds later, a small group of men rounded the corner of the house and Samantha paused to look closer.

  Massive relief rolled over her. Her crew.

  Oh shit. They were dead. At least that was what the news said. "Toren?"

  "Fuck." He sounded exasperated.

  "What…?" She didn't know what to ask. The men's jerky movements confounded reason.

  "Reanimated."

  "Oh my God." She remembered his explanation of what that meant after their encounter with the one torturing the steer. Her heart wrenched to think her men had made a deal with the devil as they died, with no idea of the sort of eternity they were gaining, imprisoned in nothingness.

  Mr. Paul and Jonas weren’t there. A surge of victory ran through her blood. The enemy hadn’t gotten to all of them. Thank God. "How did the demons find them?"

  "Someone sold them out. Maybe Joe." Saying nothing more, he turned and strode toward the reanimated men. His wings spread full behind him, sickle at the ready.

  Reluctant, Sam moved in behind him, ranging side to side so she could keep a cautious eye on the dead-looking monkey men. She kept her gun in hand ready to blast to hell whatever moved.

  Her hackles rose as she noted the beasts' dead open eyes. A sort of colorlessness that reflected milky white with rectangular pupils. As if there were no soul behind them.

  Ahead of her, Toren came to a standstill. She followed suit, but made sure to keep her eyes on everything around them, waiting for the slightest movement. A glimpse around Toren made her wish she hadn't looked. The agony on the mens' faces made her look away fast. They appeared aware of what was happening to them but absolutely powerless to do anything about it.

  Then Joe strolled easily past the others, smiling, leaving no doubt who had sold the others out. "Sorry dude. I guess things didn't work out quite as you expected, huh. Tell ya what. You hand the bitch over and get the hell out of here, and my friend will call off his dogs."

  Another man strolled up to stand slightly ahead of Joe. "Well, Josephus, I owe you an apology. When you said he was a badass, I had no idea you'd run into one of these self-righteous, shiny cloud-boys." He turned brilliant orange eyes on Sam. "And this is the female you found so irresistible? You disappoint me, Joe."

  Toren grinned. "You have the advantage demon, since I don't have a clue who you are."

  The demon scowled. "Fool. You are too new an angel to even have a human to guard over. So new you still resort to weapons and violence. Otherwise you would recognize the demon lord Reftelen."

  Toren chuckled. “It’s you who must be new, fucker. I’m Toren. The Mercury Warrior of the Fifth Universe.” He shrugged a shoulder. “So sorry.”

  The way the demon’s al
oof expression went poof was nearly comical. And the clear and solid fear that twisted its face told Sam that Toren must be one bad ass angel.

  Not that she needed to be told that.

  “There a problem?” Joe asked, looking at the demon on his right.

  The demon’s mouth moved but no sound came out.

  Toren shook his head and laughed a little. “I didn’t give you permission to speak. Dark Scum.”

  “What the—”

  Toren pointed at Joe. “You either, you piece of shit.”

  “Control your rag dolls before I do,” Toren said. “What?” Toren asked, turning his head. Sam looked around at who he was talking to. “Ugh, whatever. Just don’t play with your food, okay?”

  Worry for his mental wellness flitted through Sam's mind for a second.

  A grinding metal sound ripped the air with a massive flare of white from Toren’s abdomen. The light faded to reveal a naked woman with a skin of swirling liquid mercury. Toren angled his head left and right, looking at the woman as if trying to figure something out.

  What was there to figure out? She was clearly female and thin, with small breasts that didn’t detract from her feminine curves one bit.

  A spark of jealousy hit Sam hard in the stomach. Toren was looking at the woman, studying her. Sam's fists clenched automatically.

  Toren looked back at Sam and his eyes narrowed. “She’s…you.”

  What? Sam blinked a few times and looked at the woman again, head to toe. “Oh my God.”

  The woman seemed to have her eye on Joe. Uh-oh.

  She gracefully walked toward him. No, more like pranced a little. Like a happy little girl. Was she pretending to be Sam’s younger version?

  The demon suddenly morphed into a hideous creature that resembled a red hided bull with the too-large head of a carnivorous dinosaur. Its roar made Sam’s body hairs stand on end and her finger suddenly trigger happy on her gun.

  The mercury girl paused in her advance to regard the beast. Her mouth opened to emit a single note in a beautiful clear tenor voice. The note reverberated and grew until it became a metallic screech that reminded Sam of a million nails down the chalkboard.

  Then the girl turned into a streak of silver light and shot herself right into the thing's mouth, propelling it backward a few feet. The beast’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls and began to tremble.

  Sam grabbed hold of Toren’s arm as the demon slowly inflated like a balloon. She squinted her eyes when it looked ready to pop, skin stretched taut, eyes and tongue bulging outward. Insistent, Sam pulled Toren away, wary of what the flying tissue might do.

  The demon exploded with a sound like a dud firecracker's fizzle and with mercury particles filling the air. Sam looked around, watching the mercury slowly gather back into its original form.

  Sam’s swirling, shimmering younger version, prancing once more, turned back toward Joe. Make that a terror stricken reanimated Joe.

  He seemed too afraid to move. Sam had to remind herself that it wasn’t Joe. It was a demon using his body. And whatever inhabited him knew it was in deep shit.

  When the woman got to him, she danced before in an almost erotic rhythm.

  “You might not want to look,” Toren mumbled.

  Oh God.

  Mercury Sam opened her arms and took Joe into her embrace, cradling him to her like a lover. In the next instant the metal of her body became a million screaming whirling blades.

  The demon in Joe screamed as she drew him into her arms, sucking him into her body that had become a human sized shredder. His swift end came with a grinding vrrrrrr and a massive spray of blackened blood. Toren made a moan of disgust and turned his head.

  Sam watched in horror as the girl continued dancing around from one reanimated being to the other, passing them all through the human grinder.

  When she finished, Mercury Sam looked like she’d taken a swim in crude oil, the sticky brown/black clots and globs of tissue all clinging to her body. But she act she’d frolicked in the lake on a happy Sunday afternoon. She still pranced happily about, all the way until she reached Toren.

  “I think I’d have preferred you eating them.”

  “I don’t eat my prey mister.” Sam's voice continued to come forth from Mercury Sam's throat. She sucked in a breath and wanted to say how creepy it was but didn’t dare.

  The girl looked at her then, eyes of solid mercury. "I'm Peggy. You're Toren's Samantha."

  Sam made a good effort at keeping her jaw where it belonged. "Pleased to meet you, Peggy." How could this be the same creature that had practically eaten Ezekiel?

  “We shall be friends, I believe. This is good. Josephus says he’s sorry for hurting you.” She looked at Toren next. “And sorry for hitting your wife.”

  Toren lowered his head and shook it. “You'd better get cleaned up, you’re not coming inside like that.”

  “You’re wanted at the war chamber. The quads are all there, waiting for us.”

  “All of them?” He asked. “Great.”

  Immediately the black ran off of the odd metallic replica of Sam until she was shiny and clean. She curtsied then spun until she was nothing but a ball of light that shot into Toren.

  He jolted with a light oomph. “You don’t have to be so damn rough.” He turned to Sam. “We’ll have to clean this up later.”

  Sam remembered what they were there for. She jerked toward the house and Toren caught her arm. “Hold your horses. Me first.”

  Rather than waste time arguing, Sam followed him into the house. After a careful search they came up empty. Kassie simply was not there. Sam finally broke down in sobs. “I can smell her Toren.” She looked all around, searching for some overlooked hiding spot.

  “Okay baby, shhh.” Toren held her close, offering what comfort he could.

  Sam sobbed into his chest. “She was right here two hours and seventeen minutes ago.”

  Toren pushed her away a little. “You know that for sure?”

  She wiped her eyes, considering. “Yes.” She nodded a little then got more emphatic. “I’m positive.”

  “Wow.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Was she alive when she left?”

  She paused and thought about it. Closed her eyes and sniffed long and deep. “Oh God, yes, yes.” She nodded rapidly. “Alive and…terrified Toren. Oh God.”

  “We’ll find her. I swear to you.” He embraced her tightly and things suddenly blurred.

  Skylar couldn’t believe where she was and what she was seeing. She kept pinching herself under the giant black stone table to be sure she was awake. She wanted to gawk but kept reminding herself that it was bad manners. On the other hand, it seemed stupid to just sit there like she’d visited with archangels every day of her life, no biggie.

  It was bad enough the single archangels all sat across from the quads, staring them down like some diseased specimen under a microscope. For real, they seriously needed to step the hell back.

  Skylar did not react well to intimidation. A trait left over from the psychological warfare of her competition days that she often found quite useful in everyday life. But when men tried to show their superiority, it brought out her worst possible traits. That’s what happened when you were called stupid by men all your ever lovin’ life. Especially when those men were barely literate meatheads.

  Damn it, when were they going to get this show on the road. She fought the urge to fidget and squirm. Stay calm, cool and collected and don't make Ezekiel or Toren look bad.

  Several of the angels stared at her, more like gaped, ratcheting up her anxiety. Their expressions left no doubt that they found her severely lacking in some essential quality. Ezekiel didn’t seem to appreciate their staring one bit. And he didn’t bother to hide his annoyance, sitting there, eyeing the green one directly across the table.

  The archangel's eyes were clear, almost new grass green. Skylar was sure it was a gem but had no clue what the name of it
was.

  "Green beryl."

  Surely he wasn't talking to her? "Excuse me?"

  "My gem. It's green beryl. I am Vektor."

  Shit! Could they all read her thoughts like that?

  "Yes, we can." The amethyst—?—angel two seats to the left answered her. "I am Azen. And yes, amethyst."

  Next to her, Ezekiel growled under his breath, and she could feel the coiling tension within him.

  "Do not be concerned, human. We have no desire for your female, beyond what we can learn about sexual activities from her." The blue angel further down delivered that particular gem of reassurance.

  Ezekiel no longer bothered to hold his growl back.

  "Lassin, cool it." Toren stepped in before Ezekiel could make a grave mistake. "EZ, the archangels are no threat to you with Skylar. First because she loves you, remember? Second because they know they have wives waiting. Their only interest in her is to learn from her whatever they can that will assist them with building their own relationships. They've studied intensively, but none of that compares to the real thing. So chill."

  “I’m not worried about them taking my woman,” Ezekiel muttered, insulted. “She doesn't like being stared down and I don't like that they don’t have the common sense to show a little restraint seeing as they’re the archangels with all the experience and knowledge.”

  The diamond looking angel laughed outright. “He’s got a good point. I like this human.” He leaned forward and looked down the row at all his brothers. “Why don’t you show some couth. Act your ages.”

  “The human is sensitive to his female.” The black angel’s words were canyon deep and intimidating. Well his voice was.

  “They’ve both gained my mercurial properties to varying degrees.”

  The looks on all the angel’s faces became somewhat fascinated and Ezekiel settled back in his chair, moving closer to Skylar, his arm protectively or maybe possessively across her shoulders.

 

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