The Wrath of Angels (Eternal Warriors Book 3)

by Vox Day

  “Oh, sure,” Christopher shrugged. “Why not?”

  He squeezed the hand that he was holding as they lifted their free hands together, in unison with hundreds of other willing volunteers. Then he looked more closely at the good-looking young man standing at the podium, and he blinked with surprise. It wasn’t so much the man’s appearance that caught his attention, although he was dressed pretty casually for a preacher, even for this particular church. No, what was unusual was the four massive angels towering over the man, their hands folded over the hilts of their drawn swords as they stood in a protective semi-circle behind him.

  Christopher smiled, and was overcome with joy as, without warning, an overwhelming consciousness of God’s stupendous power flowed through him. Rachel, the chair, the church, and even his own body seemed to dissipate and fall away into nothing as he perceived, for just one fleeting moment, the great web of divine light that bound together the people of God throughout all time and place. Man and angel, rock and beast; everything in creation that had freely chosen to submit its will to that of the Most High was linked together in a glorious and unbreakable chain of power. It was an awesome vision, and it took his breath away.

  “Do you see what I see?,” he whispered to his sister, feeling a little light-headed. All thoughts of the afternoon’s mini-battle had vanished from his mind.

  Holli looked at him and nodded soberly as the congregation rose to its feet and the worship band began to play an energetic song of praise to their awesome God. In front of the band, the four great angels raised their swords in one accord, and the fiery weapons began to blaze silvery-white over their upraised, fanatic faces. They gave a great shout, and the building trembled on its foundation. These were not mere Guardians, Christopher realized with unabashed awe. Their scarlet cloaks and silver wings betokened a loftier station, and their gesture appeared to be more than just a benediction. In fact, to him it looked a lot more like a declaration of war.

  Chapter 19

  The Gathering Shadow

  You try to picture how the world might appear, this world dense with writing that surrounds us on all sides, to someone who has learned not to read.

  —Italo Calvino, If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler

  There was something wrong with this picture, Holli realized when Angie dropped her off in front of the house and sped away, trailed by the fading sound of the Back Street Boys. She looked around, half-expecting to see more silver-winged angels around her, but instead she was aware of an oppressive sense of darkness. She tried to whistle, but her lips were dry and she walked a little faster to the door than normal.

  She felt a little off kilter. Ever since seeing those angels at church, her senses seem to expand. Out of the corner of her eye, she kept seeing movement, random flashes of motion by things that didn’t exist when she turned to look at them. Was she imagining things? She hadn’t imagined the angels; she was sure of that. But was she catching glimpses of the world she knew surrounded hers, or was her imagination just running wild?

  A third alternative occurred to her when a low chuckle near the corner of the house arrested her attention. She whipped her head around, and saw a short blue figure emerge from behind a prickly shrub. His face was wide, his naked belly protruded grossly, and his skin was marred with disgusting fatty lumps that glistened moistly in the pale shards of moonlight. But he wasn’t fully there, either, for as he waddled slowly towards her, she realized that she could still see the bush behind him.

  She screamed and fumbled for her keys without taking her eyes off the grotesque creature. But before she found them, there was a white flash and she breathed a huge sigh of relief at the sight of Aliel, her guardian angel, standing between her and it. She, too, was semi-transparent, but Holli could hear her perfectly well.

  “Go, you stupid wretch!” Aliel didn’t even bother to draw her sword, she simply pointed her finger at the thing. “There is no one here for you tonight.”

  The thing chuckled, but it stopped in its tracks. “She’ll do,” it muttered in a deep, wheezing voice. “She’ll do real nice, she’ll do.”

  “She is not for you!”

  “I was called. I am here by right.” It licked its lips with a bright green tongue that was obscenely thick. “They promised me, and I am so hungry. So terrible, terrible hungry. Give me pity, sweet angel, give me the girl. They are so soft, the young ones.”

  Aliel drew her sword, so fast that her arm was a white blur erupting in fire. The lumpish thing froze, gasping, but she halted her swing with the point of the sword flickering at the spot between its huge yellow eyes.

  “What part did you not understand? She is not for you! If you wish to visit the Pit, then try me!”

  The thing’s rounded shoulders slumped with defeat. “Then where is the one that is mine?” it whined.

  “Not here. Come back later, if you must, but the young ones are forbidden. Touch them and you will burn before your time.”

  The grotesque thing sulked as it faded away into invisibility. It must have left as well, because Aliel shook her short blonde bob and sheathed her blade. She turned towards Holli and sighed, becoming more solid, less see-through, as she did so. They embraced; Holli was delighted to see her guardian although she knew it was almost surely an ominous sign.

  “So, it’s to be you. I see your eyes have been opened.”

  “Me? What do you mean? There were angels at church tonight. Christopher saw them too.”

  Her angel nodded. “Yes, dear, it doesn’t surprise me. He’s been sensitive to such things ever since the Fallen one first touched him. But you, on the other hand, are not.”

  Her pretty face looked sad, which worried Holli tremendously. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Aliel stroked her cheek. “Nothing, dear. But you shouldn’t have seen it.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me!”

  The angel smiled. “There’s an encyclopedia of things I’m not telling you, Holli. And I’m not going to tell you anything now.” But she withdrew something from inside her robe and placed it in Holli’s hand. “If you’re seeing me, then things are likely to move rapidly now and you may be in great danger. If I cannot help you, then you must use this.”

  Holli looked at it dubiously. It looked like a grape, but it was black and hard. A stone, perhaps?

  “What is it? What do I do with it?”

  “Do what comes naturally,” answered Aliel, fluttering her fingers goodbye. “You’ll see me soon enough, I fear.”

  Holli frowned as she toyed with the angel’s gift and watched her angel fade away, still smiling sadly. The thing in her hand was strangely warm, almost hot, as if there was fire inside. Confused, annoyed, and more than a little scared, she turned back to the house. She wished Aliel would stick around. Sure, she’d told off that squat little demon, but generally speaking, her appearing was usually a warning of bad news on its way. The first time Holli had seen her, it was demons with claws and serious skin care issues, the second time, goat-head demons and guns. She wondered what came next. Skinhead Nazi devils on tanks?

  Glancing at the upstairs windows, she could see that Jami hadn’t made it home yet, although judging from the glow coming out of the ground floor windows, she’d forgotten to turn off the light in the living room. She extracted her key to the front door from her purse, but was surprised when the handle turned in her hand before she inserted the key into the slot. Had Dad forgotten to lock it before they left? Sure, he might have, especially if they’d left through the garage.

  She stepped inside, locked the door behind her and slipped her purse over the staircase’s wooden end rail. But she couldn’t escape the feeling that someone was watching her, or at least was nearby.

  Her stomach growled, and she decided that a snack was in order. As she walked towards the kitchen, though, her heart nearly stopped beating when an unfamiliar guy’s voice called out to her.

  “Hey, Jami, is that you?”

  It didn’t sound like J
ason, but on the other hand, it didn’t sound like a psycho-killer either, so she resisted the urge to go for the kitchen and grab one of Mom’s razor-sharp Cutco knives out of the butcher block.

  “No, it’s not Jami, it’s me,” she said as she left the kitchen and entered the living room. A tall, slender man stood up; she did not recognize him immediately, not until she saw his pale blue eyes. In an instant, she was back in the moment of her deepest, most painful fear.

  He didn’t look like a deejay, dressed for the prom in a black tuxedo, black tie, and a ruffled black-and-yellow cummerbund. He was messing with the equipment for a second, and then he stood up, looked out over the crowd, and smiled. It was a scary smile, full of cruelty and evil….

  He had not pulled the trigger that had killed Eric. But Eric’s blood was on his hands all the same, along with the thirteen other boys and girls who had been murdered that terrible night.

  “You!” She pointed at him, trembling. “What are you doing here?” But before he could respond, she turned and fled for the kitchen. The butcher’s block was empty, but she pulled open drawer after drawer until she saw a silver glint. She reached in and grabbed it, but upon realizing it was only a small cheese knife she threw it to the floor. On her second try, she found the paring knife for which she was searching and pulled it out so fast that she skinned her knuckles.

  She looked up and he was there, standing in the doorway. Derek Wallace, the murderer who was supposedly serving a life sentence at the Stillwater state penitentiary. He was no high school senior, not anymore. He looked hard. Prison had aged him; he was more man than boy now, and he no longer resembled the tall angry geek that she’d hatefully scribbled out of the Mounds Park yearbook. His dark hair was shaved down to grey stubble, his white skin had not seen the sun all summer and his face was so thin that his cheekbones were threatening to break through. But his eyes, pale and cold, were still frightening. They were as hard as diamonds. A purple bruise marked the left side of his face.

  “You’re not Jami, you’re the other one,” Derek Wallace said unexpectedly. “Holli, right? What are you doing with that knife?”

  “If you come any closer, I’ll stab you! Stay away from me!”

  Wallace put up his hands. He looked alarmed, and, confusingly, a little amused. “All right, take it easy, blondie. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just have to talk to Christopher or Jami, all right?”

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Holli said, relaxing just a little. He didn’t seem too psycho, but she wasn’t about to drop the knife either. Where were her parents? Why did they have to go out tonight, of all nights? They never went out on weekends! “You’re supposed to be in prison.”

  “I was, until tonight.”

  “What do you mean, until tonight? You were in Stillwater!”

  He smiled as her voice rose with anxiety. It made her blood run cold, to see him smile like that, for it hardly touched his eyes. “Someone let me out. Or something. I’m not really sure.”

  “How could they let you out? You were in for life. For ten consecutive sentences!”

  “Or three months, whatever comes first. Ironic, isn’t it.” He pointed to the knife. “Look, put that down. You’re going to hurt yourself with that thing.”

  “I may be blonde, Derek Wallace, but I’m not that stupid. Now, get out of here before I call the police!”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Oh, yes I can!”

  He smiled again, that same cold, humorless smile. “I don’t think you understand. I can’t let you do that.”

  Holli swallowed hard. She’d wrestled with her brother too many times to like her chances here if it came down to a fight, even with the knife. Boys were stronger than they looked. She’d always agreed with her dad before when he’d gone on off one of his occasional anti-gun lectures at the table, especially after the prom, but now she really wished there was at least one gun in the house. So, now what? If Wallace was desperate to talk to somebody, then probably her best chance was to keep him talking. The only good thing was that he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to attack her.

  “Okay, well, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here.”

  “I already told you. I have to talk to your brother. Or your sister.”

  “You said that. Why?”

  He scrunched his face up, drawing his eyebrows together and nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s kind of a hard one. I’m still trying to figure it out. You probably won’t believe me, but to answer your earlier question, I basically just walked out of Stillwater.”

  She stared at him. “That’s not possible. It’s maximum security. Isn’t it?”

  “I said you wouldn’t believe me. Anyhow, I hitched a ride on 36, then walked up 10 until I got here.”

  That was a long walk. No wonder he looked tired. But she still couldn’t figure out what he meant by walking out of Stillwater. She’d never actually been there, but she’d been to the Ramsey County jail once to visit her cousin, the cop, and it didn’t look like a place that you could just walk out of.

  “But why did you come here? You didn’t think Christopher or Jami would just hide you from the cops, did you? They’d never do that.”

  “Actually, I kind of thought they would.”

  Okay, so maybe he was psycho, Holli thought. “And why’s that?”

  “Because Khasar told me they would.”

  Holli stared at him, unable to believe what she’d just heard. It wasn’t possible, she whispered to herself. It just wasn’t possible. He must have heard the name from Jami or something, or maybe even Christopher. Christopher knew the name; they’d told him about the crazy archon who’d watched over them on Ahura Azhda, and sacrificed himself in a vain attempt to save them when Christopher, in the full flow of his evil, had struck him down.

  He was dead, she’d seen him die. Although Christopher had struck her down too, and she wasn’t dead. So, maybe it was possible, just. But if an angel was going to appear to anyone, wouldn’t Derek Wallace be about the last person it would choose?

  She shook her head. It didn’t make sense, but it kind of didn’t make sense in an uncomfortably familiar way. There was something a little too coincidental about his being here, especially now. She started to say something, but before she could get it out, there was a knock on the door. They both froze.

  “Were you expecting anyone?” he hissed at her.

  “No.” A minute ago she would have leaped at the opportunity to answer the door, suddenly, she wasn’t sure what to do anymore. “Um, just stay here.”

  “Holli!”

  “What?”

  “You might want to leave that.” He pointed to the butcher knife.

  “Oh, right.” She hesitated for a moment, then put it down. She could always just run out the front door with whoever was there if she had to. What are you doing, you idiot? Leaving a sharp knife with a convicted killer? She shook her head. She didn’t have time to think now. Pound-pound-pound! The second knock was more urgent, more forceful this time.

  Glancing out the window, she saw the roof-mounted lights of a police car. Maybe someone had followed Derek after all. She took a deep breath, then opened the door. There, towering over her on the front steps, was a tall man in the dark blue uniform of the St. Paul police. At least, that’s what it said on the badge clipped to his chest. And yet, she wasn’t quite as glad to see him as she thought she should be.

  He was pretty good-looking for a cop, more like her idea of a fireman, with a strong, masculine jaw and short black hair. He obviously lifted weights, too. He had the usual male reaction to her, but he controlled it better than most, limiting himself to a single raised eyebrow. “Good evening, Miss.” His voice was deep. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we’re on the lookout for a dangerous fugitive that was seen in this area about an hour ago.”

  “A fugitive?” Holli tried to decide if she should tell him about Wallace, even as she widened her eyes and raised her hand to her
mouth. If there was one thing she was good at, it was keeping guys from knowing what she was thinking. “Dangerous?”

  The handsome policeman nodded. “I’m afraid so, Miss. I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m sure you heard about the shootings at the prom?”

  Holli nodded, and her brief amusement disappeared as the man’s words caused a knot in her stomach. Wallace was a killer. He was sentenced to jail. Didn’t she have a duty to tell the police that he was hiding almost right behind her? She didn’t trust herself to speak.

  The policeman seemed to be staring at her intensely. Did he know something? Had someone seen Derek go into the house? Oh, no, what if someone thought she was his girlfriend and was hiding him!

  You are hiding him, she seemed to hear a small voice whisper in the back of her mind. But you shouldn’t be. Tell him that he’s inside. Let the police handle it. It’s their job….

  “I’m sorry?” she said. The policeman had been saying something.

  He was definitely looking at her strangely now. “I said, is there anyone else in the house? We noticed that there aren’t many lights on, and we’re pretty sure that the fugitive was right in this area.”

  She met his eyes. They seemed to bore right through her pretension of indecisive cluelessness. She was starting to get frightened. What if Derek was lying to her? But that wasn’t possible! And wouldn’t she get in all kinds of trouble if they knew she was hiding him. The small voice—no, voices—grew louder.

  He’s in there. We know he’s in there. Don’t be stupid, Holli! Don’t be fool. We know he’s in there. Let us have him and we’ll leave you in peace. What is he to you? Why do you protect him? Give him up… give him up… give him up….

  “Why are you hiding him, Holli?” The policeman raised one cocksure eyebrow. His eyes glinted malevolently. “Why are you keeping him from us?”

  Chapter 20

  A Dark Wind Howls