All Mammon could hear was ringing, a high-pitched tone drowning out everything around him, making his head spin. Opening his eyes, he blinked, trying to figure out what happened to the cave. The world around him was nothing but dust and darkness. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his muscles felt like they had been beaten with sticks. He shook his head, the dull ringing causing everything around him to feel distant and muffled. Blinking away the dizziness, he pushed to his knees. When had he fallen? Pain ripped through his side, and he looked down. A shard of rock the length of a knife blade protruded from his waist. Gritting his teeth, he pulled it from his body, letting out a rushed breath of agony.
He spat out a mouthful of blood and looked around. Abbadon lay on his side, his face and upper body resembling ground meat from the rock shrapnel. Across the cave, Ze was pulling Benediktos behind a large rock. The hellhound demon was out cold. Muffled shouts and curses filled the haze, and the roar of a beast echoed from somewhere in the darkness.
Mammon got to his feet, leaning against the cave wall. He blinked away the confusion just as Tanus ran across the cave, drawn blade clutched in his hand. Metal on metal echoed and clashed through the room, the sound making his ears ring even more. He shook his head once more, clarity returning.
Putting his hand to the bleeding hole in his side, he turned his gaze to the fighting bodies. Lucifer and Hades were back to back. Two blurred winged forms rushed in, trying to cut them down. The angels shimmered in the darkness, their bloodied blades raised with grins of glee upon their faces.
The clatter of metal on rock and then Tanus was in hand-to-hand combat with another, the sound of fists pounding flesh and bones breaking unmistakable. Tanus’s blades remained discarded on the cavern floor as he continued the battle in his preferred fighting method. A rush of heat hit Mammon as his brother shifted form from human to a shimmering demon writhed in blue flame. His wings alive with fire, his hands deadly talons he rushed towards his target once more.
The hellhound, Rusaeus, charged from the darkness, sinking deadly fangs into the closest piece of flesh, and mauling the wrist of the angel attacking Hades. There was a horrified scream of pain as the razor teeth easily cut through bone and muscle. The sword clattered to the stone floor, but not before the hellhound was blasted by a shaft of pure white light, which sent him flying across the chamber and slammed him against the wall, eliciting an agonized yelp.
The sword was so bright, it lit up the room. Black spots floated in Mammon’s vision for a second. When he straightened up, it was to find Belor on the floor. On his chest sat a huge angel wearing an expression of sick satisfaction as he pounded Belor’s face. The chaos raged around him, the scent of his brother’s blood filling the chamber.
All the years of pain and loss came back in a rush. He would not lose a brother tonight. He embraced the feeling, flames of emerald green exploding from him. The bonds which had chained his demon form fell away. It had been used so little, it was a foreign sensation to feel it surging from his flesh.
His body was racked with pain as scarred muscles worked to change and reshape. His skin shimmered deep green as the flames licked over it. Talons grew from his fingers, and demon wings ripped the flesh of his back in a shower of blood. The roar he let out shook the chamber. He charged, his eyes locked on the angel who was covered in his brother’s blood.
The blond angel had the good sense to look frightened as Mammon plowed into him, knocking him from Belor. Cries of pain filled the chamber as Mammon raked his claws down the angel’s face, black blood pouring from the wound and soaking the chamber floor.
A sharp pain burned in his side. Mammon turned his eyes towards the angel who’d stabbed him. The blond fool backed up a step. His one remaining eye wide locked on Mammon. Black blood dripped from his chin to the floor, his attention drawn. The next attack caught him by surprise, a hellhound darting in from the shadows. With a snarl, the hound took a grip on the angel’s leg, shaking him like a chew toy. The cry of agony, as muscle tore from bone, was like beautiful music to the demon’s ears.
The angel now preoccupied with a hellhound, Mammon turned to aid his father, watching in horror as the blinding golden light pierced Hades. The angelic being laughed manically, copper eyes glittering as he swung the glowing blade back and forth, like a child with a wooden sword. Hades stumbled back and fell to one knee, a hand covering the wound in his lower chest.
“Michael, you have no idea what you’re going to unleash.” Hades coughed, spitting blood on the floor. Putting his hand on the shattered rock he managed to hoist himself up as the angel came towards him, madness in his metallic gaze.
“Aww Hades, your power is much overrated. Just think, once, long ago, we all bowed to the Lords of Heaven, of the Sea, and of the Underworld. But now, you’re a shell of the god you once were. It’s truly pathetic. I expected more. This world will be reborn. Sin will be extinguished. We will rule a new Eden!” Michael lifted his hands, the blade flashing in the darkness. Light seemed to leach from the metal, writhing around the angel who wielded it.
“You’re crazy. You think the others will let you destroy this world? It doesn’t belong to only you!” Hades faltered, his arm nearly giving way under him. Despite the fighting around him, Michael knelt before Hades, placing the tip of the deadly blade under the god’s chin. He forced Hades’ head up until their eyes met.
“Who comes and takes the God of the Underworld unto death I wonder? Shall we find out?” Mammon watched as Michael stood once more, moving the blade until the tip rested against the god’s throat, a smile of delight upon his lips.
Mammon took his chance. So focused was he on his target, Michael didn’t see the green blur of demon until he was thrown across the cave, where he crashed into the wall with a sickening thud. Mammon crouched before his father, his eyes locked on the Malakhim who was slowly getting to his feet. His wings furled on his back and his demon tail flicked back and forth in agitation. The glow of his green flesh showed the myriad scars on his skin. He let out a low hiss, talons digging into the shattered rock covering the chamber floor. The wounds upon his body were slowly sapping his strength, but he pulled on the reserves of fortitude that had helped him endure five hundred years in the Pit.
“Protecting Daddy, how nice. You must be the bastard who claimed my Seer. Not to worry, she will be mine again. If she resists, she dies. What is it humans say? Plenty more fish in the sea. I can find another.” Michael wiped black blood from his lips with a grin, his dead eyes on the demon. Pointing the blade at Mammon, he smiled. “A god may survive this blade, but a demon? Let’s see shall we?”
The blade began to glow, sparks of light falling like flickering stars around the angel. Mammon wasn’t about to let the fucking bastard fire another surge of light from that blade into his father. If he had to take the strike, so-be-it. He braced himself, sending his thoughts to Isabelle. He wished so many things—that he had kissed her longer, loved her sweeter, voiced more often the words she so longed to hear. He knew Asmodeus would look after her.
The light gathered around the blade. Grinning manically, Michael pointed the tip towards him. The blade hummed with power, glowing so bright he could no longer stare at it directly. A roar of fury shook the cave, and the piercing flash of light went wide. Striking the rock wall behind him, it shattered in an explosion of fractured luminescence and a shower of rock.
Tanus had his huge, clawed hand on Michael’s wrist and the sound of snapping bone filled the cave. Michael didn’t even flinch as the blade fell from his now useless hand. The light vanished back into the metal, leaving a plain-looking blade with a golden hilt.
Michael tilted his head slightly and regarded the demon painted in pulsing blue flame. Twisting his body violently, he unfurled his black and silver wings. The deadly feathers sliced into Tanus like knives through butter.
Tanus stood shocked for a moment before falling to the stone floor, his blood spilling from his torn body. Michael rotated his wrist once, twice, openin
g and closing his already healed hand. Kneeling, he grabbed a handful of Tanus’s hair, lifting his head and forcing the demon to look at him. Tanus struggled, trying to get his legs under his body, his hands attempting to keep the largest of the wounds in his abdomen closed. The deadly feathers had eviscerated him, blood pooling around him like a lake.
The angel’s voice was condescending and arrogant as he spoke. “Wrath, right? You’re pitiful. Always trying so hard to control that which you should embrace. Tell you what. Let’s give you some real wrath to experience, shall we?” Michael placed his hand to the demon's forehead. A bright light surged down his arm and sank into the demon, enveloping his body. Tanus jerked as if he had been struck by lightning, his muscles going rigid, pain etched on his face. He opened his mouth, the roar that was ripped from him vibrating the chamber. It wasn’t a roar of rage but immense agony. It quickly morphed into insanity and fury. The demon's skin shifted, the blue flames extinguishing on his flesh, replaced by black shadow. Michael’s sick smile widened as the demon before him vanished in a whirlwind, his anguished roar echoing in the darkness.
“That should be fun to watch.” Michael bent down to retrieve his blade from the floor. He turned his gaze back to the fighting, his eyes stopping on Mammon. Demons were down all around. Only Lucifer and the hellhound were still standing. Hades remained kneeling, but blood was pooling around him.
Mammon managed to speak through his pain, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “What did you do to him?”
“To Wrath? Not much, just removed a few barriers separating him from his Sin.” The fucker had the nerve to look wistful about what he had just done. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Greed. It might have looked just a tad painful to you and me. But I can assure you, in his mind…” Michael made a sound close to pleasure, a sick smile spreading on his lips.
Mammon got a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. No one could be that twisted and vile. Michael’s copper eyes flashed and Mammon felt his oily, corrupted soul reaching for him.
“Your brother was remembering what it felt like to embrace his Sin. All those barriers you build so thick and strong to keep your humanity intact? It’s pathetic. You. Are. Demons! I was just reminding him. Just think! Eternally hunger-driven hellhound slash rage demon. It will be glorious.”
Mammon couldn’t even process what he had just been told. To have all his barriers gone? Even after he’d been taken from the Pit, he still had walls in place. He might have been closer to his Sin than ever before, but he’d not embraced Greed. Not by a long shot. Not like when he had first been made, not like in those first hundred years.
The addiction, the craving, the unending hunger to drive men to feed their greed so in turn he could feed from it. He had lived for it, and Hades had let them run wild with it, doing what they wanted. Why? Because they needed to learn, they needed to see what evil their Sin wrought. Nothing but destruction. For every man Greed brought to his knees, he destroyed a family, starved children, drove women to prostitution. At first he didn’t care.
But Hades was smart. He had given them all something—a seed that had germinated in each of them. A soul. Guilt, sadness, regret, and pain. Everything Mammon had done, all came back to him, along with a determination that he would never allow the Sin within him to rule him again. The brothers helped each other to build defenses against the desire to feed off human sin. They became the warriors their father wanted them to be. He couldn’t even comprehend Tanus reverting to the man he had once been, back to Wrath. Mammon focused on Michael, who seemed not to care about what he had just unleashed upon the world.
Michael sheathed his blade, not even looking at those he had just defeated. “Gabriel, get the jar. This place stinks. I don’t think there is much fight left in them. Oh, and kill Greed. No one takes my things.”
Those words echoed in Mammon’s head, his own sin reflected at him. With those words, his vision flashed. He could see it now, eating away at the angel. Not just greed, but lust, pride, and wrath. He was insane with it. He was Blighted, corrupting those around him, including his own men. Mammon could see it like tendrils of black, reaching for the other angels, wrapping around them like mist sinking into their bodies. The only one who seemed immune was his second-in-command, Gabriel.
The angel turned those golden eyes on him. Was that regret he saw in those depths? “Gabriel, where is Raphael on his little task?” Michael stepped over fallen chunks of blood stained rock, an almost joyful skip to his step.
“She will be back in our possession soon, brother.” He turned his eyes away from Mammon and focused on his commander.
Those words were like ice water through Mammon’s veins. They had gone for Isabelle! No! They had planned this! The wound in his side was beginning to take its toll. His vision was getting hazy again. Hades had fallen to his side, eyes closed, breathing low and shallow. His skin was the color of death. Belor was out cold, as was Abbadon, their bodies still as stone. They both looked like they had been through a meat grinder. Abbadon was bleeding profusely and Belor’s face was a mass of swollen bruises.
“Michael!” Mammon spoke through his teeth, his gaze riveted on the angel’s cold copper glare. “If you touch her, I will rend your filthy soul from your body!”
Michael just laughed and waved him off. “As if you could. What you fail to grasp is you’ve already lost.” Michael vanished with the clay jar in flash of bright light. His wounded comrades followed behind him, the unconscious Jophiel being carried by one of his brothers.
Only Gabriel paused, casting a worried glance at the carnage, his gaze finally coming to rest on the demon. He had been ordered to kill. Mammon expected to see death in those gold eyes, but he only saw sorrow and pity. The moment seemed to stretch. Mammon wanted to reach for the angel wanted to tear into him for all the pain he and his Malakhim brothers had caused. Gabriel dropped his gaze, his eyes solemn, and Mammon got the distinct impression he hated what had just occurred. Without a word, he vanished with his brothers, his assigned task incomplete. Curious.
Mammon forced his pain-racked body to move, turning his attention to Hades. He was pale but still breathing. Lucifer began attended to the wounded. No one was dead, which was a fucking miracle.
The hellhound whimpered softly, shifting his form, his body turning to liquid shadow before slowly reforming as a man. His eyes were the color of tarnished steel, his hair as white as his brother Cercyn’s. He leaned against the cave wall, holding his shoulder, blood seeping from between his fingers.
“Motherfuckers, I will hunt every one of those bastards down for this.” His words would have been more impressive if he hadn’t passed out and slid to the floor in a heap.
Lucifer panted softly. “Fuck! This has been a kick up the fucking ass if ever there was one.” Mammon winced. The pain was clear on Lucifer's face and it wasn't from physical wounds. Pride had lost a fight. The Sin of Pride didn’t lose, and when he did, he paid for it.
It was all too clear they were hugely, hilariously out matched by the Malakhim. They had walked in and taken the jar like it was no big deal. Now they were after Isabelle.
Lucifer moved towards him. The wound in his side had opened again and was bleeding freely. “Get to Isabelle. Go now! I will look after everyone. Keep our Seer safe.”
Mammon nodded, pushing the pain to the back of his mind, using it to fuel his rage. Green flames licked over his flesh again. He summoned the powers lying dormant in his blood, his body morphing into fire, which threw an eerie green light against the cavern walls. The only thing that mattered now was Isabelle. He had to get to her before the Malakhim. As skilled as Asmodeus was, he wouldn’t be able to defend her for long. The cave plunged into darkness as Mammon vanished, leaving Lucifer to deal with the aftermath and their wounded father.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Isabelle lifted a glass of chilled rosé wine to her lips. The sweet wine did little to help her mood, and the show on TV was drowned out by the noise in her brain. Where was h
e? Was he okay? She had a horrible feeling in her stomach something had gone wrong. She put the wine glass down on the coffee table and sat forward on the couch, resting her head on her hand. Asmodeus paced back and forth in front of the large windows.
She felt bad for him. He wanted to be helping his brothers. His body literally shook with the pent-up desire to be fighting alongside them. But he had been relegated to watching her ass and looking after the injured Cercyn. He paused at the end of each pace to look out the window before turning on his heel and returning to the kitchen. Picking up her glass, she followed him and pulled a beer from the fridge, placing it on the counter for his next pass.
Asmodeus paused as he finished his last full pace around the room and gave her a smile. He took the beer and slid onto a breakfast barstool, where he began to peel the label from the bottle.
Isabelle poked his arm. “I’m sorry you have to be here. I know you would rather be with your brothers. Thank you.” The demon blushed a little. It gave him this insanely cute boy-next-door look.
Asmodeus opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of something breaking in the bedroom had him frowning. Sliding from the kitchen counter, he headed towards the room. Isabelle followed behind him. Maybe Cercyn had tried to get out of bed. Stupid demon was going to open his wounds. Asmodeus pushed open the door and came to a dead halt.
An angel stood over the bed, the sword in his hand impaling Cercyn’s upper shoulder. The demon gripped the blade in bleeding hands, his face etched in pain. He was desperately trying to pull the blade out, but the angel just spread his huge silver and black wings, filling the room with their breadth, and pushed forward. Cercyn hissed as the blade sank deeper into his body.
The smile on the angel’s face was beyond terrifying. His cold, ice-colored eyes focused on her as he drove the blade even deeper. The demon cried out and the angel withdrew the blade, bringing it to his lips and licking the blood from the metal. He looked insane, his brown hair slicked back against his head. God how could anyone emit such evil? In a sick move, he drove the blade backwards, impaling the already half-dead demon once more.
Greed's Charity (Seven Deadly Sins Book 1) Page 23
