Vendetta

by James Somers

  Desperation

  Brody brought his axe down again, splitting the log with one clean blow. He was tired and sweating. It felt good to be outside. It felt good to be working. With April drawing to a close it was getting much warmer.

  Cole had been away for three days. Brody wasn’t sure where he had gone. He checked in on a regular basis, but with Sadie gone for so long now he didn’t stay around all of the time.

  It was a sad situation for Brody. He had hoped that the feelings Cole and Sadie had for one another would have been enough to pull her away from this insane vendetta. But even love could not keep her from chasing phantoms.

  He felt bad for Cole as well. The young man didn’t deserve this kind of treatment from anyone. He was a faithful and good friend. He wouldn’t leave Brody here alone for long, probably because he didn’t want Sadie to know the loss of both parents as Cole had experienced. That and he knew that Brody had been his father’s best friend.

  Still, Brody had regained a good deal of his strength over the years since Adolf had attacked him. The ability to kill with his touch had not been as potent in him as it had been in his father Grayson Stone. Brody was truly thankful for that fact. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be alive now.

  Another log on the stump. He whipped the axe back over his shoulder, preparing to bring it down again. A feeling struck him suddenly, causing him to hold his swing.

  Malak-esh was stored away in the dimensional space around him. But the sword was pulsing with power now. An angel was near, one of the Fallen. That was the only time it came to life on its own like this.

  Brody paused and waited. Would it be an attack? Somehow, he didn’t think so. This wasn’t Southresh. He would have felt the angel’s nearness even without the warning pulse of Angel Fire. And, since he knew of no other fallen angel in the world except Lucifer…

  He turned. Sure enough, the angel stood not ten yards away before him. He was dressed in a suit of more current style, though not American style. European Brody noticed. He didn’t give any more thought to it than that. It was unimportant.

  Brody waited. He did not speak. Since the angel was making the effort here, he would see what he wanted before he said a word.

  For almost sixty seconds Lucifer also said nothing. Then, when it was clear Brody would not open up the conversation, he did. “Your health seems to be returning.”

  Brody sighed. “I have no time for your games. I’m going to call out to my Heavenly Father. When I do, you will have to flee.”

  “So I should be quick?” Lucifer asked. “Very well. Adolf has your precious daughter.”

  Brody straightened. He appraised the angel for a moment. “You want me to go to her,” he said. “Obviously, this is a trap.”

  “Obviously,” Lucifer said, grinning. “But I’m sure that won’t stop you.”

  Brody was breathing harder now, his heart rate increasing with every second. “No,” he breathed, closing his eyes, leaning upon the axe now set against the stump. “Heavenly Father, I ask for your help to save my daughter. I am not capable of winning this fight, any fight, without you. Please give me victory today over my enemy in the name of my savior Jesus Christ.”

  Brody opened his eyes again. Lucifer was no longer standing there. Brody knew that he would have gone as soon as his prayer began. He could not remain, but had to flee.

  So, his daughter had come to be captured. He had wondered when something like this might happen. Hoping it wouldn’t had not prevented it. Her possessing Malak-esh had not stopped it. Brody sighed. He was her father. Trap or not, he had no choice.

  Cole was not there with him. In a way, he was glad of that fact. If he was about to go to his death, then he did not want to risk the young man’s life along with his own. But he wouldn’t go without a word either.

  Brody appeared inside the house again. He scrawled a hasty message: Sadie in danger. Adolf has her.

  This would be enough. He had made preparation years ago. In the event of his death, Malak-esh would go to Cole. There was no one else worthy to wield the weapon.

  Brody made a change of clothing with his mind. From work shirt and jeans, his dress changed to dark pants, boots, a dark shirt and a black duster. He had not gone into battle in years, but he had kept up on his skills. Malak-esh seemed to be waiting to be freed. It soon would be.