Evolution (The Divine Series Book 5)

by M. R. Forbes

  He smiled. "We just want to talk."

  "Oh? What about?"

  He motioned towards the workstation. "A... flaw, in our plan. We want to discuss a potential agreement."

  I stared at him. The balance had been easier to maintain up until now, because evil had a tendency to be a lot more prevalent than good. Sure, there were a lot of people in the world who would hold open a door for somebody, do volunteer work, or donate to charities. Those were good things, but when you compared them to brutal murder, rape, genocide, war, it took a lot to even it all out. Eight years, and only now were the angels moving to gain the upper hand.

  Abraham was stalling. Buying time to get a Fist here? Did they know we discovered where their toys were being produced? Would they try to shut it down and move it before I could get there, or would they do their best to end this right here and now?

  Time was never on our side. We had less of it now.

  Eight years, and now I would have to kill them.

  Like I had said to Rose, I didn't want to do it. I didn't like doing it. It made me feel dirty, because following God or not following God, killing was wrong.

  It was also necessary.

  I threw the power out, catching Rose's dagger with it, tearing it from her grip and sending it into Abraham's chest. He glanced down at it, and then looked at me accusingly as the poison started to spread.

  His companion reached for the holy water at his hip, the salve that would stop the demonic poison from killing him. The other drew his sword.

  Gervais was himself again, and he leaped forward, grabbing the dagger from Abraham's chest, catching the second angel's stroke in a strong hand, and reversing the knife back and up into his throat. All in one motion, he kicked the holy water from the first angel's hand, sending it spilling out onto the floor.

  "No cheating," he said. He stabbed the remaining angel in the stomach, and then freed the blade by kicking the seraph out the window. He was still screaming, even after his body thumped against the cement below.

  I looked at Rose. She was frozen in place, tears running from her eyes. I couldn't blame her for her reaction. I had cried the first time, too.

  "We need to go," Gervais said, pointing out into the night. "Your friend is coming. He brought reinforcements."

  "We can't outrun an angel," I said.

  "No. We can hide."

  "There's no time." I looked back at Rose. She hadn't moved. "You need to get her out of here."

  "Ugh." He curled his lip and shook his head. "Why did you bring her along, again?"

  "Just do it."

  I could see them now, a dozen angels. It was a massive force considering how few of them there were on Earth. Two of the armored Fists dangled from their arms. I didn't see Adam. Was he out there?

  Gervais ran over to Rose, bending down and lifting her. She went limp in his arms at first, and then started screaming and fighting against his grip.

  "Put me down. Damn it. I'm okay."

  I didn't have time to see what happened next. I took three quick steps and jumped out the window.

  Breaking my fall with the power had been a lot of trial and error, a lot of broken bones. At first I had used a helmet to make sure I didn't smash my skull on a particularly bad drop. In time, I graduated to greater and greater heights, learning to measure the amount of energy to use to come down in perfect, and perfectly cool, three-point landings. My personal best was sixty-one stories.

  Ten was easy.

  I hit the ground and rolled to my feet, shifting the energy into my limbs, hitting the gas and running as fast as I could. It was nowhere near fast enough to outrun a seraph in flight, but I wanted to lead them away.

  I looked up and back. They were closer now, much closer. The parking lot was in front of me, and beyond it a fence. On the other side was the drab brown wilderness I had been disparaging earlier.

  I was halfway across the lot when the first angel landed in front of me. She was short and stocky, with a cherubic face and long brown hair. Her sword was already in hand.

  I didn't slow. I swept my arm out in front of me, and she flew from my path, her wings unfurling and shifting to keep herself from falling.

  The fence was getting closer. So were the angels with the Fists, the heavy machines making them just a little bit slower than the others. The rest of the angels had split away, and I saw them going for the building. For Rose and Gervais. I was tempted to turn, to make a move on them. Gervais would handle it. He was an evil son of a bitch, but he was a survivor. The armors were my problem.

  I reached the fence and vaulted it with a flow of energy, easily clearing the barbed wire and landing in the trees on the other side. The angels wouldn't be able to drop the Fists there, the space was just too small, their momentum too great. I thought I heard one grunt as they were forced to go up and over.

  I stopped running.

  It was eerily quiet in the thin copse of trees. I closed my eyes, feeling the light breeze against my face, feeling the density of the earth beneath my feet, the unhurried beating of my heart. I gathered the power, holding it in my soul.

  The calm before the storm.

  I felt the earth shake when the Fists were dropped onto it. I heard the breeze blow past my ears from their displacement of the air. My heart began to beat harder, and I pulled the stone from my pocket and brought the spatha to my hand. The trees weren't much, but against two of the Fists, with four arms laden with bolts, I needed all the obstacles I could find.

  A cracked branch on my left. Another on my right. I could see the faint blue glow of their activated scripture out of the corner of my eyes. I dropped to my knees without thinking, letting my intuition guide me. I felt the bolts go past, crossing one another in perfect harmony, missing my body by fractions of an inch. I caught them with my power and twisted, turning the energy with me, spinning like a tornado and casting them back towards large, dark shadows. My aim was a little off. The trunks of two trees splintered from the force of the missiles that hit them.

  One of the trees didn't survive.

  The first crack was followed by a second, and it started to fall behind me. I jumped up, vanished the sword, turned, and ran towards it in a mad dash, watching the branches sweeping down, the trunk moving ever closer to the ground. I could hear the motion behind me, the two Fists breaking from cover together, their motions mirrored perfectly. I dove ahead, my stomach hitting the ground, my momentum carrying me under the falling tree and through to the other side. I was lashed with leaves and branches, one of which dislocated my shoulder as I went by. Then it made a final, loud, echoing sound when it completed its crash, the thickness enough to block the angelic knights for a few seconds.

  I got to my feet and grabbed my arm, pulling it back into place. The pain was intense, and I was grateful for how quickly I was able to heal. I kept running, moving out into the grassy hills, away from the woods. I had been wrong about the cover of the trees. It gave them a better opportunity to catch me in a crossfire. If I could see the bolts, I could stop them. If I could see the Fists, I could avoid them.

  For how long?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I kept running, pushing harder, sending myself hurtling along the landscape. I glanced back every few seconds, checking on the Fists and making sure they weren't gaining.

  They weren't. They weren't losing ground either. They kept pace behind me in complete synchronization, their feet moving and falling at the exact same time. I wondered if they would take a shot at me - when they would take a shot at me. I was surprised they hadn't already.

  Except, I couldn't keep this up forever. Sooner or later, I was going to have to turn and fight.

  I reached a small hill and barreled up it, deciding then that I would hit them from the other side, where I could launch something of an ambush. I hit the decline and dropped onto my ass, letting the speed slide me down the hill. I stopped myself about halfway, drew the obsidian blade, and waited.

  The moment their heads crested
the rise, I pushed out with my power, sending a cloud of dirt out behind me, and shooting at them like a rocket. I held the blade out wide, swinging it hard at the Fist on the right, my aim for the space between the helm and the body.

  The blade crashed into an angled bit of metal that had been welded to the original design, scripture connecting and covering the new addition, which made the junction of head and torso even smaller then before. The lettering flared as the sword smacked it, catching the blow and throwing me off balance.

  I must have spun thirty times before I even hit the ground, and another thirty as I rolled back down the slope. I hadn't even come to a stop before I was back on my feet, the Fists turning themselves, their arms out. Two more bolts came my way, and I swept the power out, pulling them down into the ground ahead of me. The neck had been a weakness I exploited once. They had updated the design to make sure I couldn't use it again.

  I set myself in a crouch, holding the sword out in front of me. They drew closer, their blades extending from beneath their wrists.

  They were bearing down on me from the slope.

  A glow behind them caught my eye.

  It was airborne, distant, barely noticeable over the Fist's shoulder at least a mile away. It would have been easy for someone to mistake for a star, or an airplane, or any number of things, except it was in my line of sight.

  It was Divine.

  Adam.

  It had to be. He was here. He was watching. Was he commanding them? Did he know I had seen him?

  They slowed as they reached me, leading with their blades. I was skilled enough to bat the first round aside, to parry and turn and parry and duck and parry and twist. I pushed back against them with my power, using their mass to throw myself back. I took the split second to look out to the sky again, finding the blue glow framed by a wisp of clouds.

  It was obvious to me that I couldn't fight the Fists on my own and win. That left me with only one other option, a long shot hope. I gathered my power and pushed it into the ground with enough force to catapult myself high into the air, a hundred feet or more. The Fists tracked the movement, their bodies shifting, their arms coming to bear and their entire payload of bolts sparking and releasing towards me.

  Did they think I couldn't catch them all?

  I couldn't. One grazed my thigh, while another sank deep into my gut. I felt the pain at the same time I did catch the rest, wrapping them up in my power and redirecting them, pushing so hard that for a few seconds I couldn't breathe at all.

  I didn't see if they had hit their target. I reached the top of the leap and started to fall, all of my energy spent on throwing the missiles. I must have done something right, because as I fell I saw the Fists turn away from me and sprint away from the scene.

  I hit the ground hard, the force pushing the bolt in my gut deeper into me. I spit up blood at the same time I pushed the power to the site, using it to wrench the missile the rest of the way through my back and then heal the damage. I rolled over and jumped up. I had to see why the Fists had run.

  I reached the top of the hill. They were half of a mile away, headed for the blue glow that was now resting on the ground. I could make the figure of the angel out now. It was Adam.

  I gathered my power, feeling lightheaded at the exertion of it, the disruption in my soul renewed. If Adam was here, commanding these Fists, he couldn't be in Shenzhen, or in Heaven warning the rest of the Inquisitors about what we had discovered. There was no way I was going to be able to kill him with the Fists there, but I needed to at least slow him down.

  The answer was beneath my feet. It was going to take all of my strength to make it happen, and I wasn't sure if I even could. There was no other choice.

  I started running towards them, as fast as I could. I needed to get there before Adam or the Fists could pull the bolts from his body, before he could heal and get airborne again. I needed to reach them while they were distracted, and their guard was down.

  I covered the ground quickly, my legs churning, my arms out at my sides. I got within a hundred feet, close enough so I could see Adam's pained expression from his position between the Fists kneeling on either side of him. Close enough so I could see the blood-soaked toga, and the three bolts still embedded in his body.

  Close enough that he could see me, too.

  His metal hand shifted on the ground, and the two Fists turned their attention towards me.

  Too late.

  I slid to a stop, throwing the power down into the earth. The dry, loose earth. Then I pulled.

  The ground started shaking around us, as the composition was changed in a near instant. Adam didn't even have time to say anything before the sudden sinkhole swallowed him and the Fists, dropping them into a deep pit.

  I pushed the top layer of earth, using it to fill in the new hole.

  Using it to bury the seraph alive.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I returned to the parking lot on rubbery legs, fighting to keep moving, to get back to Rose and Gervais. My heart was pounding, my head ached. I was even sweating. I hadn't forced that much from the energy before, and the resulting discomfort was threatening to drop me with every step.

  The lot was still mostly empty. Everything was quiet. I found Sarah's Ford in her assigned spot.

  Rose was sitting on the hood, knife in hand, her hair disheveled, her clothes bloody. Gervais was leaning up against the side of the car, looking like he'd missed the entire thing. His eyes opened a little wider when he saw me.

  Rose slid off the car, walking towards me, a smile forming on her haggard face. She threw her arms out wide as I neared, and I took her up on the offer.

  "Are you okay?" I asked. She held me tight, pushing herself into me.

  "I'm fine, all things considered," she said into my neck. "I was worried about you."

  I pulled away and turned her back towards the car. We were on the clock. "Are you injured?"

  She twisted to show me a light nick on her shoulder. "That one was close. Otherwise, none of the blood is mine." She was sad when she said it, and I knew why. The blood of angels. "Did you destroy the Fists?"

  "Not exactly."

  We reached the car and Gervais. He straightened up. "You're alive," he said.

  "So are you."

  "He almost wasn't. I saved him."

  His face twisted when she said it.

  "You saved him?" I didn't hold back my laugh. If I had a chance to upset him, I was going to take it.

  "I was fine," Gervais said. "I knew the seraph was there."

  "Right. Whatever you say. Did any of them escape?"

  He glowered and shook his head. "No."

  I didn't want to say 'good', even though it was good. Adam wouldn't remember our fight, but I was sure he would put two and two together once he got out of his predicament. Why else would he be buried right outside of Los Alamos?

  "There were two Fists, and Adam was here. I think he has a connection to them, that he's commanding them. Maybe through his mechanical arm. I couldn't kill them. I buried them out there." I pointed back to the hills. "He can't suffocate, and the soil there is loose. I bought us some time, nothing more. We need to get to Shenzhen, to get to Matthias before he digs his way out." I looked at Gervais. "We need reinforcements. Someone strong enough to use a rift."

  "And you think I know this person? My domain is in Europe."

  "You're seven hundred years old. You're telling me Valerix is the only demon you knew here?"

  "Let me think on it."

  "Fine. In the meantime, you need to drive us out of here. Let's head back towards Santa Fe." I took hold of the power, the act making me nauseous. I pushed it out towards Rose, using it to break apart the blood and scrape it from her clothes. It floated to the ground as ash. "Just in case any of the perimeter guards are Awake. I don't really feel like getting shot at again right now."

  She smiled. There were goosebumps on her arms. "That felt weird. Good weird."

  Gervais went around to the d
river's side, morphing back into Sarah Mitchell. "You two want to screw around in the back seat? I can pretend not to be disgusted."

  I walked over to the back door of the car and opened it. Rose slid across the seat, and I joined her in the rear. Gervais got behind the wheel and got us moving.

  "Tell me what happened," I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. The whole world felt like it was spinning out of control in the darkness.

  "We ran for the elevator, but we didn't make it. The first group came in through the windows. They didn't pay me that much attention at first. They went right for Gervais. He killed three of them before I could even think to fight. Then I remembered what you told me. I remembered Anita. I thought about all of the people who would suffer."

  "How noble," Gervais said over his shoulder.

  "Shut up," I said.

  "He's still pissy about me saving him. Like I said, he killed three of them, but there was a fourth - a boy. He looked like he was maybe fifteen, sixteen. He came out of the office behind him, his sword already raised to stab him in the back. I grabbed him and cut his throat." Her face paled. Her eyes teared.

  "He wasn't fifteen," Gervais said. "I knew that one. Siculus. He was older than me. He was a Spartan. One of the three hundred. He died at Thermopylae."

  "Bullshit," I said.

  "Why do you say that?" he asked.

  "The Greeks didn't go to Heaven, they were polytheists."

  The demon laughed. "You aren't going back far enough. God was very patient with His creations. He gave them quite a while to settle into the idea of His existence, seeing as how it is so very magnificent." His voice dripped sarcasm.

  "Were you trying to make me feel better, or worse?" Rose asked. "Whether I killed a fifteen year old boy, or a two thousand plus year old angel. I still killed an angel to save your disgusting ass. You killed my sister, and I saved your life? How messed up is that? Nothing is ever going to make me feel less dirty for that one."

  "I suppose there is always a silver lining," he replied. "Needing a mortal to save my life is the meaning of embarrassing. How weak and pathetic I have become."