Alexa flashed him a smile. “This is it.” She waved the paper excitedly. “This is what I needed. This,” she waved the paper again, “is how we’re going to defeat Lucifer.”
She read the note again and felt a quickening sense of excitement rise within her. “He’s left us the tools to destroy Lucifer.” Her hand shook as she read the paper again. “Holy Fire, the Staff of Heaven, and the blood of a willing demon. I have no idea where to start, but the one thing I do know—we can’t do this alone. We need to find Milo.”
“I agree,” said the dog, wagging his tail happily. “Let’s go get the handsome bastard.”
Alexa folded the paper carefully, which took some effort with her hands still shaking uncontrollably, and stuffed it in her pocket. “So,” she said turning back to the dog, “how do we find the Nephilim?”
Lance pushed off the desk, his eyes bright. “Just follow the crazy.”
CHAPTER 4
ALEXA AND LANCE FOLLOWED THE crazy to Las Vegas, Nevada. The sun was a glowing yellow disk in the blue sky. The air was hot and dry, and Alexa knew if she wasn’t protected with her M-suit, she’d be sweating buckets.
The hot weather didn’t seem to bother Lance at all as he bounded next to her, his ears up and alert and his white fur glimmering like pearls.
Giant glass and metal buildings rose up on either side of them, disappearing into the blue sky as though they wanted to reach Horizon. Hotels and restaurants lined the streets. Alexa read the signs: all-you-can-eat buffets, pool parties, and too many Vegas clubs advertising to remember. It gave ordinary people with moderate incomes a chance to live the five-star lifestyle of the rich and famous for a few days.
Despite the fact that Alexa had never actually been to Vegas, it was very different from what she remembered seeing on television. There was none of the loud, fast, flashy and energetic atmosphere she knew the Vegas Strip ought to have.
The Vegas Strip was a charred desolation for miles around. The shops, hotels, and casinos were all blackened shells. Alexa felt like she was walking through a zombie apocalypse movie without the zombies. Empty cars, trucks, and buses were piled onto the sidewalks, their doors open as though the mortals had left in a hurry. The hot air smelled of carrion, blood, and rot.
Savagely slaughtered, mortals lay scattered across overturned cars and rubble, sprawled in pools of congealing blood with their insides spilling out into a liquid mess around them. Some had lost limbs and even heads. A body hung upside-down, strapped to the hood of a black Range Rover. As she neared a body, it was too decomposed to tell if it was male or female. The skin was wet and engorged with white maggots. Alexa retched at the smell, her eyes watering.
She could feel the dead. The chill of death was close by. A cold shiver rippled over her skin despite the hot air. But the dead and the sheer number of bodies weren’t what had Alexa fuming with anger. It was with the way they were displayed, like art in a gallery.
Another rotting corpse hung on the side of the brick wall of Chase Bank. A piece of metal pierced through the head was holding it in place and hundred-dollar bills were tucked in the mortal’s mouth. Severed heads topped spikes in a circle. Alexa smelled the burnt bodies before she saw them, impaled on sharpened stakes next to the street signs with their hands drawn up in front of their faces as if an in attempt to fight off the flames.
There were piles of severed hands and feet. Some of the hands still clutched cell phones, keys, and other hands. She saw tiny fingers, hands of children, and then she wept.
Alexa had thought she’d seen the worst in purgatory, but somehow this was worse. She felt her fury—her total, immeasurable hatred for the Nephilim—rise in her hot like a fever.
Lance was looking at the pile of severed limbs, muttering hotly, but Alexa couldn’t make it out.
Trash, vehicles, and shopping bags were all laid down in a haphazard fashion as though a great hurricane had blown through, leaving a tangled sea of dead bodies. Alexa and Lance picked their way carefully amongst the tangle. Warm air, heavy with drought, carried the fetid decay. A fog of flies followed them as they went—the few things still living as far as Alexa could tell.
Lance was right. Whatever had happened here could only be described as crazy.
“You think the Nephilim did all this?” she asked between coughs and fits of rage.
“Sure of it.” Lance lifted his head in the air and sniffed. “It’s them. They’ve got a distinctive smell. It’s not quite demon but has a little mortal and angel in the mix. It’s hard to follow their scent with all the dead, but the signs don’t lie. Nephilim were known to put their dead, their kills, on display in ways to intimidate the mortals and the angels. It’s a scare tactic to terrify and shock their enemies with their madness, to show them just how far they’d go. They’re psychotic killers that should never have existed.”
Alexa flinched as she thought of Milo. He had been born Nephilim, but he was so different than his brothers. Milo would never have murdered the innocent and put them on display like this. These Nephilim were the essence of evil.
She gripped the soul blade she’d found when rummaging through the oracle’s desk. She knew the evil that they would soon come across and would have to fight.
Alexa hadn’t shared all the accounts of purgatory with Lance. She had kept the parts that had involved Milo to herself. She felt it was too personal, and if Milo wanted Lance to know, he would tell him.
Her chest heaved with pain at the memory of Milo’s face, the way he had looked at her with total confusion when he’d first seen her with his brothers. He had not remembered her. If Milo was with another group of Nephilim now, she prayed he would remember her and be himself, not the confused young angel she’d found in purgatory with his brothers.
“It’s like we’re following a trail of bread crumbs,” Lance’s voice cut into Alexa’s unpleasant reverie. “But instead of bread crumbs, we’ve got human remains and body parts.”
“I’d prefer the bread crumbs,” said Alexa as she wiggled around two mangled corpses whose eyes and mouths were sown shut. Alexa hoped the stitching had been postmortem.
“Yeah, well… who wouldn’t,” said Lance as he jumped over a pile of rubbish. “I hope golden boy is here at the end of this feast of bodies.”
Alexa thought of something. “These Nephilim… can any archangel create them if they, you know… spend time with a female mortal?”
Alexa could swear she saw the dog smile as he said, “You mean share a bed with them?”
“Yes. And?”
“Well, there are other rare cases of male angels who’ve fallen in love with mortal women, usually their charge—which is totally forbidden by the way. If, incidentally, that relationship results in an offspring, they’re called Elementals.”
“Elementals,” repeated Alexa. “Yes, I remember reading about them. They’re powerful because they have the best of both worlds—supernatural energy from Horizon, and natural magic that comes from the Earth.”
Lance sniffed the ground as he walked and then raised his head. “But not all are powerful, and not all are even aware of their supernatural abilities. It all comes down to genetics. Sometimes you get more of the father. Sometimes you get more of the mother. It really depends.”
“How are Nephilim different?”
“Nephilim are Lucifer’s creations, his very own children. Elementals are more human whereas the only human in the Nephilim are their human shells. There’s nothing else like them.”
“Milo is different,” said Alexa before she could stop herself. “He’s nothing like his brothers. Nothing at all.”
“No, he isn’t. And that’s why we like him.”
“Why do you think Milo was Lucifer’s favorite if he was so unlike his brothers? He hated what he was.”
“Maybe that’s why,” answered the dog. “Milo was the youngest and the most troubled son. Perhaps what made him different made Lucifer love him more? Who knows. Lucifer is psychotic.”
As they walke
d through the strip, Alexa marveled at the size of the buildings that rose up on either side of them. She saw buildings on fire and the crumbled remains of what looked like a spa resort. Yet they saw no humans—no one alive.
They came upon a murder of crows, feasting on the corpses, and the birds cawed furiously at being disturbed. Alexa tore her eyes away and followed Lance.
“What do you know about Holy Fire?”
“If my memory serves me correctly,” said the Scout, “it’s actually an oil that burns. The oracles created it to bind angels and archangels who turned against the Legion when they couldn’t control them anymore, specifically Lucifer and his followers.”
“Do you know where we can find some?” Alexa asked.
“Well, knowing a little bit about how oracles operate, I would have to guess they’d probably keep some hidden somewhere in their offices.”
“But we checked Mr. Patterson’s office together. Nothing was there except for the weapons we found and the letter.”
“That’s true,” said Lance, “but I didn’t mean just in Horizon.”
Alexa cut a look at him. “You mean here? Somewhere in the mortal world?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. I think the oracle, or Mr. Patterson as you call him, wouldn’t have mentioned it in his letter if he didn’t trust you would find it. If it wasn’t in his desk in Horizon, it’s here. The oracles must keep stashes of it in their safe houses. Be that as it may, I happen to know of a safe house right here in Vegas. We can check it after we find golden boy.”
Alexa felt a pang in her chest at the mention of Milo. “Well, that’s one ingredient we can tick off the list. At least we have an idea where to find it. What about the Staff of Heaven? He said in his letter that it was stolen from the Legion and hidden somewhere in Horizon. Any ideas where?”
“Hmm…” Lance seemed thoughtful. “That’s going to be a bit of a problem.”
“Why?” Alexa glanced at the dog. “Because you don’t know where it is?”
“I don’t know where it is,” repeated the dog. “It could be anywhere, but my guess is it’s with—”
“Nathaniel.” Alexa glowered. “Yeah. I bet he has it, or one of the members of The Order of the First. And I’m willing to bet he’s the one who stole it in the first place. So that no one could use it against his beloved Lucifer.”
“That’s exactly what I think. Which is the bigger problem. If he does have the staff, it’s not like he’s about to hand it over either. Even if we ask nicely.”
“So, we don’t ask nicely,” said Alexa as a plan formed in her head. “We steal it.”
“I like the way you think, girl,” said Lance as he trotted next to her and swerved to avoid stepping in a large red puddle.
“We agree Nathaniel has it,” said Alexa, “but that still leaves us with a problem. Where are they? Where are The Order of the First?”
“Horizon, that’s for sure.”
“How can you be so sure? They could be hiding out here, in the mortal world. It would be harder to find them if they were.”
“Nah.” Lance shook his head. “They’re in Horizon. I’d bet my nine lives on it.”
“Cats have nine lives.”
Lance shrugged. “Same difference. To these angels, the mortal world and its mortals are a waste of space. They hate it. They despise anything to do with the mortal world. To them it’s dirty, packed with filthy mortals and other living creatures. They want nothing to do with it.”
“Which is why hiding it here makes perfect sense,” said Alexa, feeling excited at the prospect of finding the two missing ingredients for the vacuum rift right here. “Think about it. It’s the perfect hiding place. That’s what I would do, anyway.”
“The only reason these angels would ever come here, to this neck of the woods,” said Lance, “would be to slaughter the mortals. Trust me. Don’t forget, to them humans are the flawed creation… the mistake that never should have been. They want to rectify that mistake. It’s not here. I’m sure of it.”
Alexa couldn’t argue with Lance’s logic, but it still annoyed her a little. There was a sudden quiet as they walked. And then Alexa asked, “What about the—”
“The blood of a willing demon?” Lance glanced around, as though he had missed the scent he was following, and then moved to the right as though he’d caught it again.
“Yeah, that.” Alexa jogged to catch up. “What do you make of it?”
“Well, for starters, it’s not going to be easy… maybe even impossible to get a demon to change sides, to sacrifice itself for us angels.”
“Great. That’s not helping. Don’t you want to get rid of Lucifer?”
“Of course I do,” snapped Lance, his voice harder than Alexa had ever heard before. “Of course I don’t want his supreme unholiness to take over the worlds—ours and this one. But to find a willing demon—a demon who’s willing to bleed for us—they’re not a dime a dozen. Our chances of finding one are…remote. Why would a demon want to help us? The very creatures that hunt them?”
“They could have had a change of heart? Of conscience?” offered Alexa.
Lance stopped is his tracks. “Demons don’t have a conscience. They’re demons.”
Alexa threw up her arms and kept walking. “I don’t know. Angels turn bad. Why can’t the opposite happen? Demons… growing a conscience? It could happen?”
“No it wouldn’t. They’re psychopaths. They don’t have any moral qualms. They don’t and never will have that little voice inside of us all that tells us when something is wrong. It just doesn’t exist. Demons weren’t programed that way. They were created for one single purpose—to kill us and mortals.”
“Are you saying there’s never been an incident, no record ever, of a demon changing sides?”
“Never.”
“So, all demons are mindless automatons programmed to eat humans and kill angels.”
“You got it.”
“You can’t think of one demon that could help us. One?”
“Nope.”
Alexa kicked a can out of her way. “Doesn’t the Legion have spies inside the demon armies? Informants?”
“You watch too much TV.”
Alexa rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Lance. I’d bet Metatron does. He probably has a handful of demon spies working for him. Of course, he’s giving them something in return. Mortal souls for a few favors?”
“Stop that,” said Lance. “Metatron can be a jerk, but he’s true to the Legion. He’d never sacrifice the souls of mortals for information. There are other ways.”
“So, I’m right.”
“They don’t have spies as you say,” said the dog, glancing at Alexa. “But I’m aware of the Legion doing a few favors for demons in return for information. And what I mean by favors, I don’t mean in souls, but more like an all-inclusive vacation package—a seven-day trip to Hawaii.”
“Demons take vacations?”
“You’d be surprised. They’d do just about anything to get out of the Netherworld.”
After an hour of following the dead, they crossed a few streets made for a tall concrete building with rows of windows. It rose high before them, its gleaming roof pointing to the sky. Alexa saw a sign high above written in bold red letters that read Marriott.
Carefully, Alexa followed Lance inside the hotel and through an arched entryway flanked by giant palm trees on either side. Despite the bright sun, it was gloomy inside. But the darkness glowed with the richness of the paintings hanging on the walls.
The light polished floors were slippery with blood, and Alexa had to slow her pace to keep from ending up on sprawled on the floor, sticky with human blood.
A massive crystal chandelier lay in pieces in the middle of the lobby. The sound of her boots crunching the glass echoed around them. Lance picked his way carefully around the sharp fragments, his nails scratching the tile floor.
“There’s blood but no bodies,” remarked Alexa, inspecting the blood. “Did we take
a wrong turn?”
Lance stilled and sniffed the air. “I don’t think so. The Nephilim trail led us here. I can still smell them, the stink of them—”
“And here I thought it was the angels that stank,” said a familiar voice next to her ear.
Alexa froze, her hand hovering over her weapons belt. She blinked at the tip of a sharp sword pointing at her face, and then her eyes moved to the snake sigil on his neck.
From the corner of her eye, she saw two tall and broad-shouldered men pointing swords at Lance. Even from her limited view, she recognized them—the harsh grim faces, the same tailored trousers and white shirts buttoned up under dark vests, with heavy black capes brushing against their boots.
“Hi, angel darling,” purred Anagar. “How I’ve missed you.”
CHAPTER 5
AFTER ANAGAR CONFISCATED ALEXA’S SOUL BLADE, he began to search her for more, his hands patting over her body a little too slowly. For a moment she feared he would find the piece of paper hidden in her pocket as his hands moved over her hips. If he discovered their plans, all would be lost…
Her pulse raced as she felt his hands brush her pocket, felt the warmth of his fingers through her clothes—and then he pushed her forward.
“Move.”
Alexa let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and did as she was told.
The three Nephilim led Alexa and Lance past the lobby and into a large room with plush red carpets lined with tables and soft, high-back chairs. The air smelled of alcohol, blood and rot. She tried to catch Lance’s attention, but the dog’s focus was on the room.
She followed his gaze and faltered. Sitting at the tables were mortals. They sat slumped, as if they were drunk, their heads lolled to the side and their eyes wide with vacant expressions. Their skin was pale and covered in lesions, split apart with the beginnings of decomposition. Blood stained their lips and throats. String was tied around their hands and fingers and then wrapped tightly around beer bottles and glasses. It was a horrid scene, dead mortals set up like mannequins enjoying happy hour.
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