“No,” I whimpered.
“They’ll never even get close,” Met drawled in a bored tone, taking a sip of wine.
“Met please,” I rested my forehead on the cold railing, unable to watch. “Please, not now.”
“You’ll see, my Strawberry. I have faith.”
“But do you know?” I gazed at him, pleading.
He shook his head, and his determined expression gave way to one of slight uncertainty. I let out a sob, and turned back towards the field below me.
The tall, long-haired, rogue angels all walked together, perfectly in sync, heading towards Nimue and Malach. My parents-in-law spread out, giving each other space to move. Malach made a sweeping gesture and drew a hand from his hip, holding it up high.
A sword materialized in his grasp. With a loud whomp, it burst into brilliant, golden flames.
A flaming sword. The only weapon that would destroy an angel.
Nimue threw back her head and laughed, and slowly uncoiled something from around her waist. “I’ve been working on something a little different,” I heard her call towards Malach. From around her waist, a bullwhip materialized; black, shiny and absolutely terrifying. In one smooth, and undeniably sexy movement, she flicked her arm. The whip made a deafening crack that sounded like a gunshot, and burst into flame at the same time.
Malach gaped at her.
She shrugged, twirled the bullwhip around in a flaming arch, and winked at him. “It’s got better reach,” she cooed. “And it’s not as ungainly. What do you think?”
Vane and the rest of his rogue angels, realizing that their menacing, slow walk towards the two lovers wasn’t having the desired effect, growled and picked up the pace.
“Look out!” I screamed. More than a dozen Percuitait came racing towards them. They were outnumbered more than ten to one.
I paused, and frantically counted again. It should have been more. According to Connor, there was more….
“They ran,” Met said from behind me.
I spun around to look at him, still sitting calmly in his camp chair. “There were a couple of Percuitait that weren’t completely convinced by Vane's ravings,” he said by way of explanation. “Nimue’s speech just now… she hit a nerve. They hadn’t quite considered what would happen if they were wrong.”
“They abandoned the fight?” I stammered, quickly glancing over my shoulder to make sure there were no rogue angels coming at me from the north or the west.
“They are cowards,” Met said, shrugging. “They are only looking out for themselves. They are far away now.”
There was a blood-curdling shriek from the battlefield. I looked up, just as the human army came streaming towards my lover and my best friend.
The battle had begun.
Alex and Nate were astounding in their fighting stances. I could barely sense their movements, but they were brutal; like lightning strikes, like tornadoes they ripped through the screaming, spitting soldiers running their way. Alex moved like a lion, powerful and predatory, muscles flexing and rolling as he punched out and kicked, blocked, swung and even threw his enemies at each other.
Nate was smoother, working in a sort of lethal ballet, darting in close to his prey to subdue them with quick kicks to the head, and disabling them by taking out their knees.
But there were so many enemies. Even in a few moments of fighting, I could see that my boys were only going to be able to block the armies advance. They were never going to be able to smash through them completely; there were too many, and they kept coming. I watched one fanatic, foaming at the mouth, rise up again after taking a vicious kick to the chest, and continue to stumble forward.
It seemed unnatural. He appeared to be driven by something more than human.
“I thought the Percuitait wouldn’t give out any more essence?” I mumbled through bloodless lips.
“They haven’t,” Met replied softly. “Or, if they have managed to, it’s not much. Those men down there are insane fundamentalists, Strawberry. They believe they are divinely chosen. The strength to continue fighting - even while they’re bleeding to death - is coming from inside of them. It’s innately human power, you know,” he said, taking another leisurely sip of his wine. “If you believe in yourself, you can do anything you want to.” He frowned deeply. “What you're seeing is manifestation in action. The power of the mind. Unfortunately, the sentiment isn’t restricted to bodybuilders and wannabe astronauts. It works on fundamentalist madmen too, and slightly better, I think. They believe God has made them strong, so they are strong.”
I shut my eyes tightly. From the field, I could still hear the smacks and screams of the battle. Nate and Alex were holding steady - no human could manage to get any hard shots in, and none of the human army could get passed the boys.
They weren’t going to be able to hold out forever though. Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from the boys and looked towards Malach and Nimue.
They were holding the west side of the field. The two celestial beings were truly a sight to behold. Stripped to the waist, his glorious pewter wings sparkling in the midday sun, Malach parried and advanced, swinging his mighty flaming sword. He clashed with the Percuitait two and three at a time, spinning around and kicking out, throwing bodies back with just a sharp flex of his wings.
Nimue was spectacular. She moved with the grace of a prima ballerina, flying through the air, spinning and kicking out, winding the flaming bullwhip up and unleashing it on her enemy in a blaze of sparks. She cracked and snapped the whip like a lion tamer, driving the Percuitait back. While I watched, she let one Percuitait creep forward as she focused on the others, pretending that they took all her concentration, deliberately letting him get up behind her.
I almost called out, but at the last second, she flung the whip backward and wrapped it around the rogue angel behind her, squeezing his arms in tight. He dropped his own sword with a thud, and before I knew what was happening, Malach had swung his own giant sword around and cut off the Percuitait’s head.
I gasped. Nausea wrenched through me, and I had to drop my head on the cool railing again and take more deep breaths.
More long, painful minutes passed. Suddenly, I heard Nimue cry out in pain and rage. She’d taken a hit to her arm with a flaming sword, and she clutched at the wound, hissing in anger. Malach let out a furious bellow and struck out at her attacker, slashing at his torso with his sword, opening up bloody wounds. The Percuitait screamed and fell. Malach reeled around to face his next attacker, and I could see three slashes had opened up on his shoulder blade. He’d taken some hits too. Nimue, her face white, swapped the whip from her injured arm to her good hand, flexed her arms, and carried on the fight.
“They’re holding out,” Margot whispered next to me. “They’re holding them back.”
“Only just,” I whimpered, scanning both Alex and Nate for injuries. I could see a small dribble of blood on Nate’s leg, seeping through his jeans. Alex’s shirt was splattered with blood, but I couldn’t tell if it was his or not. “They’re outnumbered, and they’re getting injured,” I mumbled, almost incoherent with fear. “And they won’t stop coming - the army - they won’t stop until they’re all dead. Alex and Nate, Malach and Nimue… will have to kill them all. They can’t kill them all, Margot,” my voice broke. “They can’t beat them all.”
“Shhhh,” she rubbed my back, and the hard, painful clench in my stomach eased slightly. But she didn’t have any more comforting words for me.
My eyes were glued to the battle below. I desperately looked for signs of wounds, silently cursing my weakness, cursing my fate for not being able to go down there and help, my thoughts winding up tighter and tighter as my panic increased: Why couldn’t I be the strong one, the one with the flaming whip, the one with the deadly wings? Why did I have to be the weak, fragile creature, powerless, closeted up here in my perch, watching my friends die to protect me?
A flash at the far end of the field caught my eye. It was flickering through the t
rees, coming this way.
Malach noticed too. He whirled around with his sword, bellowing in anger.
“Uriel!” he shouted. “Come and face me, you coward!”
Oh no. Not more. Not more enemies. I’d forgotten about the archangel that had taken the Percuitait’s side. It seemed he was hanging back, letting the human armies satisfy their bloodlust, maybe letting the Percuitait take what they had been trying to destroy for years.
The flash of light drew closer, and out of the trees walked an enormous archangel.
Uriel was as powerfully built as Malach, clad in shining bronze metal breastplate, with streaming golden curls that brushed down his shoulders. He held his head high and met Malach’s gaze steadily, with an odd but purposeful expression. I got the feeling he was disappointed, and trying to summon the heart to defeat his brother in battle.
Malach was already fighting six of the Percuitait at once, whirling, whipping around, clashing swords. He couldn’t possibly take on any more.
Uriel wouldn’t have to do much. He’d just have to wait.
I was so focused on the battle that I didn’t see what was coming from the south.
But I heard them. Hollers, whooping. Wild animal calls.
My eyes shot down, trying to see where this new threat was coming from.
At first, I couldn’t see anything. Whatever was coming, it was hidden beneath the jungle canopy below me. However, now that I was trying to follow the sounds with my eyes, I could see the tops of the trees rustling and waving, as if a crowd was swinging themselves through the jungle below.
My blood chilled, as I heard Alex give an agonized shout. Looking back to the field, I could see a knife sticking out of his torso. One of the humans had gotten around him and stuck a dagger in his side.
“No, no, no, please, God, no…” I whimpered, clenching my fists. My vision blurred - my eyes were filling with tears. Hastily, I wiped them away - I had to look at all this. They were doing it for me, they were protecting me. I had to force myself to watch.
Alex looked down at the knife sticking out of his side and groaned again. Quick as a flash, Nimue whipped in front of him and cleared a quick path of humans, knocking them out of the way. For a second, Alex had some breathing space. But Nimue had to return immediately to Malach, who was overrun with Percuitait, and now bleeding from several deep cuts on his body.
My eyes went back to my lover, desperately searching, wanting to see if he would be okay. The knife still jutted out of his side, it made me feel so sick. I caught a look of intense focus on Alex's face before he flexed his muscles, and fought on.
“Why isn’t he pulling the knife out?” I could barely hear my voice to my own ears.
Margot heard me, though. “It’s better where it is, for now. If he pulls it out, it causes even more damage and more bleeding.”
I moaned, the terror overwhelming me again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of bodies moving quickly past the staff quarters, coming towards us, approaching from the south. They moved like a stream of ants scurrying rapidly in our direction.
“What is that?” Margot breathed out, still clutching me. “What are they?”
I held my breath. I didn’t dare answer.
The crowd burst out around the stables, and suddenly I could see them clearly. It had to be near eighty bodies, lean, fit, rolling and dumpty, woman and men wearing strange clothes, some not wearing any clothes at all. Boisterously they ran towards the field, singing loudly, letting out hoots of excitement. I tried to follow them with my eyes, but they were a seething mass of humanity; my brain just couldn’t process who they were, and where they came from.
Until my vision focused on two big creatures at the front of the pack. The biggest had a shock of bright blue hair.
“Zel,” I whispered.
And Dale was right beside him; stripped to the waist just like Zel, his broad, wide muscles rolling and flexing as he waved the unruly crowd forward.
“It’s Zel and Dale. They came!”
Margot leaned a little closer, peering intently. “But who have they brought? Who are those guys?”
“Friends,” I whispered. Despite the reinforcements, the fear jabbed at my stomach again, and I doubled over, unable to watch for a few moments.
“Friends?”
“Dale said that he and Zel were trying to recruit an army,” I grimaced and bit my lip, leaning forward on the railing. “He said that Zel knew lots of humans that would fight for us.”
“They don’t…” Margot trailed off. “They don’t all look like humans.”
Once I’d gotten control of my self, I looked over the field, just in time to watch the seething mass of bodies reach the battle. Zel’s army rolled straight towards the other human army, where Nate and Alex had been holding them back.
The newcomers smashed into the humans, throwing punches and kicks, grappling and squeezing and choking the fanatics with wild abandon. Their numbers spread out and filled the small field completely. The two armies were now almost evenly matched.
My eyes refused to focus on any one of them, but I managed to process brief glimpses of some of them. There was a distinct group of lean, floppy-haired young men darting in and out of the raging fanatics, brawling wildly, getting them into headlocks, wrestling on the ground. Further south, I spotted a muscular man wearing a strange black studded harness. To my surprise, I recognized him. It was the doorman from Zel’s club, the one who asked me to tweak his nipples.
For a wild moment, I thought that it was just a human army, but a tall man with white hair caught my eye, and I realized that I recognized him, too. He had pointed ears. The last time I’d seen him, or someone very much like him, he was in the lube pool sharing a three-way kiss with Zel.
Fae, Alex said. Zel and Dale had gone to the Fae realm and brought back reinforcements.
Now that I knew what they were, I could see them dotted everywhere in the crowd. It was a crazy, mixed bunch of wild humans, smashing through the fanatic’s army with a strange glee, as if they were in a mosh pit at a concert rather than a battle for my life. And, mingled in with them were taller figures with more graceful movements and the occasional pointed ear and flash of fang.
The residents of the other realms had come to join the fight. I felt one moment of blessed relief, as I watched them beat the army back from my boys.
But the fight still wasn't even close to even.
I watched Alex and Nate drop back. They both looked up towards me. I knew that they could see I was still safe up on the platform with Met and Margot. I didn’t need any help, and their parents were in trouble. Malach and Nimue were still surrounded by the Percuitait, jabbing and hissing, trying to slash their flaming swords through them. Malach’s sword whipped around so fast; at times, all I could see was a perfect ring of bright-white fire.
Nimue had been doing some damage with her whip. I counted six Percuitait around her, some with vicious black gashes that oozed a dark and tarry substance. They were tiring, though, and it seemed to me that the Percuitait were almost taking their time, waiting for my in-laws to slip up and make a mistake.
And now, the Archangel Uriel was striding towards Malach and Nimue, with a look of steady determination on his proud face. It seemed he’d made the decision to join the fight.
I watched Alex glance up at me again. I knew he could see me perfectly with his preternatural eyesight, and I knew he would hear me if I shouted at him to leave me be. But I’d be giving away my position to the Percuitait if I shouted. I might as well douse myself in petrol and set myself on fire.
I’m okay, I mouthed at him, hoping he would get the message. Help your mother.
He got it. Alex shot to his mother’s side, taking her six, defending her from the vicious onslaught of the Percuitait that surrounded her. Now that I focused on her, I could see she’d taken several hits. Bright blood coursed down her torso, and her black leather trousers were cut to ribbons. In an instant, Nate had placed himsel
f on the other side between Malach and Nimue, as Uriel paced towards him.
“Come, Uriel!” Malach roared. “Face me!”
Uriel cocked his head as he stalked towards him. “You have fallen, Malach. You have been seduced and tainted by your old lover. I had hoped that you would stay strong to God’s will and God’s path, but you are weak.”
“It is you who are weak, Uriel, summoning an army to murder an innocent young girl.”
Uriel’s face hardened. “The path must continue.”
“At what cost?” Malach’s voice was almost ear splitting. I got the feeling he was tired of going over the same point. “What have we become that we would murder innocent children?”
Uriel’s advanced slowed. There was a slight hesitation in his limbs; a reluctance. He didn’t want to do this.
But Vane rushed up from behind, having been driven back by Nimue’s cracking whip. “We have become the warriors of light!” Vane shouted, spittle flinging from his open mouth. “We have become God’s chosen. We alone will be responsible for the Path continuing!”
He was insane. Whirling, he shot off again through the field, striking out with his flaming sword, cutting down an elvish-looking man and one mousy human.
Uriel paused in his advance, watching Vane hack through the other supernatural creatures with the relish of a madman.
Malach parried another strike with his sword. “God will not reward you for murdering a child,” he said darkly. It was so low, and so intense that I didn’t hear the words coming out of his mouth. Met was translating for me again.
I’d almost forgotten that Met and Margot were here, I was so fixated on the battle before me. I turned too sharply, and the pain hit me again. This time it was so bad I doubled over and groaned.
“Strawberry! Are you okay?”
“I’m just so scared,” I whispered, and panted a few times, breathing through the pain. “My friends are dying. The terror is literally hurting me like a knife straight to the belly. No. It’s a knife to my groin.”
Met was staring at me oddly, a funny expression on his face. I couldn’t read it.
Revelations: The Last War Page 18
