At The Gates ds-3

by Tim Marquitz

  My face warmed as his implication hit me. I’d engaged him to allow DRAC time to operate, but I was beginning to regret it.

  Azrael’s grin grew wider, obviously feeding off my discomfort. “Does it bother you to think of your mother being raped, grunting into the sod like a common whore being rowed?”

  Without even realizing I’d done it, I fired on him, the gun barking fury in my white-knuckled grip.

  Azrael batted my bullets away as though they were nothing, closing the distance in an instant. My gun flew from my hand and he struck me in the chest, the blow reverberating all the way through to my back.

  Lightning bolts of white pain exploded in my torso and radiated out, searing a path along my extremities, ending at my fingers and toes. A tingling numbness followed in the aftershock. My body twitched and flopped as my nerves reacted, then relaxed, dropping me flat. My eyes whirled and my vision tunneled for a moment, before widening and returning to focus.

  Azrael stood over me, his toothy smile splitting his face wide, a macabre Jack-o’-lantern.

  “The best part of it was she liked every moment of it; the moist dirt of the field pressed cool against her face, the smell of her sex as it mingled with the morning air. Her scent was an aphrodisiac, Triggaltheron, sweet and tempting like a ripened fruit plucked straight from the tree.”

  Numb, I did my best to ignore his words and get to my feet. Azrael laughed and pinned me down by holding my arms, his cadaverous face moving in closer. “I know all this because I was there, demon. I watched as your mother squirmed beneath your father’s strident ministrations, her hands clawing at the dirt. She screamed and thrashed about like a banshee, yet ever pushed back to meet his every thrust like the wanton little cunt she truly was.”

  Napalm tore through my veins and I fought against his hold. His bony fingers cut into my arms as I struggled to rise. My clutching hands sought his heart, falling just short.

  “She cried when he released his seed, but they were tears of joy, Triggaltheron. They were tears for you, little demon. She knew right then she was special, that she’d been honored by the rutting she’d received; that she would soon be with child.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” I screamed, frothy spittle flying. Everything was hazy, my fury screaming inside me, shrieking to be released.

  “Will you? Is that what you’d like to do to me? Carve me up over the course of days and feed my remains to the fire?”

  I screamed again, feeling something pop in my back as I strained against his grip. Thrashing about, I flailed and struck at him, but Azrael just laughed as my pitiful blows.

  “Let me tell you another secret, Triggaltheron.” He leaned in close and pressed his clammy lips against my ear, his grip tightening. “Long have you lived a lie, an illusion fed to you to keep you docile, to keep you in your place. Lies perpetuated to steer you from your rightful rewards.” His words wormed inside my head, slithering cold and harsh. “Your friends lie to you because they fear you. They use you to go against your own, to defy the wishes of your father.”

  “My father is dead.” Thunder rumbled overhead as if in sympathy.

  A cold, bitter laugh tickled my ear. “Of all the lies you’ve swallowed like the lonely whore desperate to find love in a mouthful of bitter seed, that’s the greatest of them.”

  The words sunk into my mind like hammered railroad spikes. My anger bled away through the holes and I went still to hear what he had to say.

  Azrael kept his grip tight, but his smile warmed at my sullen compliance. “Aah, you’re listening with our mind at last. Well then, listen close. The man you killed with such passion, with such glorious brutality, for which you paid Baalth so dearly for the pleasure, was not your father. He wasn’t even the man who murdered your mother.”

  My stomach clenched into a solid knot and I stared into his flickering eyes, into his soul, desperate to see the lie there, to know his words were false. The truth stared back at me. It wasn’t what I wanted to see.

  Bile roiled inside me, flicking serpent-like at the back of my throat. Azrael nodded as the sickening reality sunk in. The man I’d killed for murdering my mother was not who I had been led to believe. I’d been deceived.

  My heart sank and I went limp, the truth draining everything from me. I’d traded my innocence for the power to kill the man I thought was my father, the man who murdered my mother. It was all a lie. My soul mortgaged to Baalth for years, the cost of my freedom something that still haunts my dreams, had been for nothing. Though I knew the man I’d killed was no innocent, he was of the crime I’d so horribly torn him to pieces over. The image of his dying face came to life in my mind’s eye, his horror so clear.

  Guilt boiled over with my vomit. Azrael released his hold and stepped back as I rolled to my side, retching.

  “You should have run to Hell and waited this out, Triggaltheron. It would have spared your heart such brutal revelation. Now you must live without knowing your father’s true face or that of your mother’s killer.”

  I puked again, sick with myself and all I’d done. Questions swirled inside my head like my vomit did in the grass, running into itself and going nowhere. There was no exorcising guilt.

  “I thank you for bringing Eve to me. I’ll reward your servitude by slaying your friends quickly; both those who challenge my minions and those who still hide upon the hill.” He held up Eve and winked. The bone in his hand was sickening proof of his boast.

  My heart slowed. Spittle dripped warm down my chin as I lifted my head to look toward the fight. Rahim and Katon had done well it seemed, bodies were piled thick at their feet, but the tide had turned against them. Grawwl still stood, an army of vampires shielding him as he closed on Rahim and Katon.

  To make things worse, the Nephilim had pulled together, their numbers apparently the confidence they needed to engage the weres, as well as DRAC. They were lashing out indiscriminately, anyone not one of them was an enemy. Surrounded, Rahim and Katon looked battered, defending attacks from all quarters. It wouldn’t be long until they fell, Azrael’s addition guaranteeing it.

  I concentrated as best I could, and reached out for help, for Michael. There was only silence.

  Thunder rumbled, shaking the ground as if in triumph as I rolled over to look up at Azrael. He stood a few feet away, his black lips peeled back in a fearsome grin.

  “Enjoy what’s left of your immortality, Triggaltheron, for its moments are numbered. Perhaps if you are appropriately humble, I might one day tell you who your father is.” He stood over me and laughed, gesturing toward the battle where Rahim and Katon were desperately fighting to stay alive. “Now, I must put an end to this nonsense.”

  Everything crumbling down around me, I dug deep for one last sliver of hope and reached out for Poe.

  A whispered voice answered back. “How nice of you to call, Mister Trigg.”

  Despite the sarcasm, my heart leapt at hearing Poe’s crisp monotone. “Glad you guys are okay.”

  “That’s not the word I’d use, but Mister McConnell and I managed to win a few of us free from Azrael’s vampires.”

  My sliver faded. “Is Rachelle with you?”

  There was only silence from the other end, its agonizing nothingness driving defeat into my heart, one pounding beat after another.

  “I’m here, Frank,” Rachelle’s voice echoed inside my head like the voice of an angel.

  Still on the ground, Azrael having only walked a few paces, I called out to him. “Tell me something, Azrael.”

  He looked back to me, his arrogance framing his face with smug confidence. “Be quick, little demon, I’ve a world to conquer.”

  I got to my feet and met his fiery gaze. “You’re a fan of rape, right?”

  He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “What are going on about?”

  “That’s what you said, isn’t it? You got off watching my mother being raped, right?” I couldn’t keep the venom out of my voice, his words careening through my head, Abraham’s dead eyes
staring at me.

  Azrael grinned. “Don’t make this your last stand, boy. Either quiet down or die, the choice a simple one.”

  I grinned back. “I’ve got another idea.” In my head, I passed on a message to Rachelle making damn sure I didn’t say it aloud.

  The words sent at the speed of thought, a shimmering blue portal the size of a house appeared just inches from where Azrael stood. His eyes flew open wide as he looked into it and stumbled back.

  “Sic him, boys.” A horde of dread fiends burst from the portal, crashing into Azrael with fearless tenacity. “Welcome to our own private gang-rape, Azrael.”

  The archangel shrieked as he was dragged under a pile of snapping jaws and sharpened claws. Eve fell beside him, being kicked about as Azrael fought back against the fiends.

  “One of you, bring me that bone.” I pointed at Eve, then turned to face the still flowing line that spilled from the portal. “The rest of you, kill the Nephilim and only the Nephilim.” Over a hundred fiends laying into Azrael, the remaining couple thousand stormed from the gateway toward the wide-eyed half-breeds who scattered before them. Poe still on the line, I had him convey a message to our guys not to worry about the fiends; they were the cavalry, as unlikely as it seemed.

  Still unsure of my control over the dread fiends, I didn’t want them confusing a certain friendly werebear and vampire for the rest of the rabble, so I kept the commands simple. At least with the Nephilim out of the way, Rahim and Katon could handle the rest. I sent another quick message to Poe to have Rachelle close by and to get McConnell ready to join us once the gates were open. Scarlett apparently out of the picture, details unknown, I was gonna have to improvise.

  A dread fiend panted up to me, holding Eve in a bloody claw. Giving it a pat on the head as thanks, I snatched the bone and sent the fiend back after Azrael. It did so with morbid glee, its dripping tongue lolling out of his mouth.

  You gotta love the enthusiasm.

  The last key piece in hand, I made a mad dash toward the remnants of the fight. Rahim and Katon had turned their opponents toward the fiends, and though the dreads weren’t attacking the weres, they were distracting them. There’s nothing like a couple thousand sub-demons storming past to get the heart rate up to a nice, brisk pace.

  The Nephilim who had been swarming them were now scattered across the field, many of them in fleshy chunks and bloody pieces. The tight organization had crumbled under the wave of dread fiends, and the few who still stood nearby were falling fast.

  Grawwl had organized his men and was flinging them at Rahim as though they were chess pieces. He hung back as the werewolves threw their lives away, trying to give him a clear shot at the wizard.

  The tactic sound, it was a good idea not to take on Rahim head-to-head, but he’d forgotten about me. His back exposed, I stashed Eve and raced toward the oblivious werebear. Knowing full well Grawwl could shrug off my shots as though they were bee stings, it didn’t make any sense just to start firing away. Since I was too exhausted to draw upon my magic, it was time to be creative.

  Staying behind him, I ran at him full tilt. As soon as I got close, I leapt onto his back and sunk my left hand into his fur and latched on tight. He roared in surprise and defiance as I jammed the barrel of my pistol against his open eye that turned to glare at me.

  “Sweet dreams, Grumpy.”

  As fast as I could, I pulled the trigger, keeping the gun as steady as possible as he bucked against me. Black blood and milky fluid exploded from the socket like a geyser, my hand and gun soaked with it. His razor-throated growl ceased in mid-course and he went rigid. The paw that had reached up to swat me stopped cold and hung in the air for a second before swinging lifeless to his side.

  Grawwl twitched, a waterfall of thick blood spilling through his daggered teeth, and then collapsed beneath me. I rode him down with a whoop.

  “You’re gonna make one Hell of a rug.” I slid off his rigid back.

  Rahim tore through another werewolf and ran over to me. “We lost the Nephilim piece holder,” he shouted over the battle sounds. “We need to find him.”

  My emotions a roller coaster, I plunged cursing the whole way down. My eyes flitting to find him, Katon saved me the trouble.

  “I don’t think it matters anymore.” He drew our attention upward.

  Amidst the gathered white clouds of the storm, illuminated by the purple flashes exploding around it, a brilliant white portal was tearing open the sky. Bright light filtered down as the gates to Eden eased into existence.

  “Look,” Rahim cried out, pointing to a pile of broken Nephilim not quite ten feet from us.

  A glow similar to that of the gate glimmered in the pile of bodies, its source hidden under ravaged flesh, its rays piercing the ruin that lay over it.

  “Over there too,” Katon added, gesturing to another similar glow obviously emanating from Adam’s skull.

  I yanked Eve out and saw that she too was glowing and everything clicked. The mystery of how the pieces went together was answered; they didn’t. They just needed to be close enough to each other, their presence enough to trigger the gate. “Get those other bones and bring them closer to keep the gate open.” Rahim and Katon responded immediately and ran off after them. In my head, I called out for Poe.

  “McConnell is already on his way, but he isn’t the only one,” the mentalist’s even voice reported.

  My eyes snapped to the sky. Like a flock of birds shooed from the bushes, the air was full of darting shadows that raced toward the opening gate. Vampires led the way but the Nephilim who could fly-and there were a whole bunch of them-were close behind, and gaining.

  In the race to reach Heaven, the two groups stopped fighting, concentrating only on being the first to cross the finish line. The clouds surrounding the gate roiled, flashes of lightning blurring the sky in defiance of their presence.

  Without Scarlett to race ahead to Uriel, we were gonna have to do it ourselves. “Change of plans,” I shouted to Rahim and Katon as they returned. “You guys try to hold the gate. I’m gonna go for Forcalor.” Our odds still slim to none, I thought it best to seek out my old mentor rather than risk Uriel killing me in the heat of battle. That would suck.

  “No one is going anywhere!”

  An explosion of force followed the words and the world around me whipped into frenzy. Like a nuclear blast, a wall of kinetic energy trampled over us, leveling everything in its path. I slammed into the ground hard as if I’d been hit by a giant flyswatter. My skull felt as though it was gonna leak out my eyes, my body tingling with pinpricks of shock. I couldn’t get my arms or legs to respond. They lay there trembling as though not connected.

  Through the haze of my wobbled mind, I saw Azrael as he came to stand before us. The fiends had done him no favors.

  Claw marks ravaged the left side of his narrow face, flesh hanging from his cheek and forehead. His skull was visible beneath the wounds, soft white amidst the oozing black seep. His body was no better off. His robes were shredded, their tattered remnants wet with growing stains of blood. He held a crippled hand out before him, the last two fingers little more than dripping stumps, teeth marks visible in the remaining flesh of his palm.

  “You are dead, demon.” He spoke through clenched teeth. The swelling at his jaw pretty much confirming it was broken.

  I cast a quick glance to where Katon and Rahim lay and neither seemed to be able to get up either. They floundered about trying desperately to stand, their legs in rebellion.

  Azrael stepped over me and glared down, infernos in his eyes. His uninjured hand shimmered with obsidian energy that threw sparks in every direction, and he raised it to strike.

  “Not so fast, Azrael,” a thready voice warned from behind the archangel.

  Old Grim spun about and glared. Akrasiel-Raguel- stood there bold in his golden armor, his intricate sword pointed toward Azrael.

  Azrael just laughed, the sound muted by his injured jaw. “You’re too late to balance the scale
s, Raguel.” He gestured to the dark forms that flew toward the gate to Eden. “The Tree is in its final throes and will soon die along with your pitiful dream of Heaven.”

  “It’s not dead yet,” Akrasiel countered while casting a sideways glance at me.

  “You think the little demon prodigy has it in him to save the Kingdom?” Azrael shook his head. “You’re as big a fool as Lucifer for believing this runt could be the Anti-Christ. Worse yet, Raguel, you’re an incorporeal fool whose time has passed.” He waved his hand at the archangel. A tendril of energy snapped out and passed harmlessly through Raguel as though he weren’t there. “Without God and Satan in the world, you’re nothing but a ghost.” His laugh whistled between his teeth.

  “I might not have the power to stop you, but sometimes all it takes is a distraction to turn the tide.” He winked, a satisfied smile springing to life on his lips.

  Azrael looked to me then up toward the gate. Silent explosions, like cascading fireworks, were highlighted against the cloudy backdrop. Vampires and Nephilim alike fell burning from the sky. A fetid rain of flesh and blood followed. I didn’t need to see him to know it was McConnell, the gray tracers a sure sign.

  While it thrilled my heart to see the cowboy doing a good deed, I knew he couldn’t hold out for long. Surprise working in his favor for the moment, it wouldn’t be long before he succumbed to his wounds, his magic tearing them open wide. If that didn’t kill him, the surging wall of vampires and half-breeds who slipped past his defenses would.

  Azrael shrieked and looked back at me as if weighing his options. I must not have made the cut as far as his priorities went. He turned and loosed a burst of energy at Raquel, the sparking bolt of blackness scouring the archangel’s presence away, its power dispersing the angel’s ethereal image.