Envy's Kindness (Seven Deadly Sins Book 2)

by R. A. Pollard

  “Never been shot before. Kinda tickles.” With a sick grin, he advanced on her. Terror pinned her feet to the gravel.

  The familiar rumbling sound of her truck filled the darkness, the flash of headlights blinding in the night. The angel hissed and lifted his sword, light blazing like a sun from the blade. A shaft of glittering light shot from its tip and sliced through the metal of the truck as if it were made of butter. Sera screamed the demons name as the truck stopped dead, he had to be okay. She saw Ze dive from the cab that had started to smoke, flames licking from the engine. Relief washed over her.

  The demon didn’t miss a beat. He hit the road, rolling to his feet, and charged the angel with a roar that shook the very air. Sera watched in amazement as silver flames licked over his flesh. Wings of white and silver flesh unfurled from his back, and the two mythical beings of antiquity came together in a clash of energy that rocked the ground.

  Sera backed away, feeling a tree hard and rough behind her. The throbbing pain from her cuts and scrapes stung in the cool night air. In disbelief, she watched the scene before her, the two men rolling around on the ground. Ze managed to hold the angel at bay and prevent him from lifting that sword again, cracking him square in the face, right where his right eye used to be. This had to be some sort of bad dream, it just had to be.

  The angel dropped the blade and roared in pain, covering his injured eye with his hands. Ze took the opportunity, lunging for the sword. Sera watched it all like some macabre Roman battle, everything too clear. The angel’s thick arm wrapped around Ze’s throat, pulling him back, fingers attempting to crush his trachea. The demon struggled against the death grip Jophiel held.

  Sera couldn’t watch him die. Right now, with the demon and angel tied together in rage, she had a feeling she knew the outcome. Her eyes desperately skimmed the ground, looking for some kind of weapon. They fell upon the blade. She would not let him die.

  She scrabbled for the blade, the razor edge sinking into the flesh of her hands, coating the silver edge in her blood. Hissing, she quickly moved her grip to the hilt. She had expected the blade to be heavy, yet she lifted it with one hand. It weighed nothing in her grip, it was light as a feather. The hilt warmed in her hand, sending a pleasant sensation of energy thrumming along her arms. In the angel’s grip, the blade had shone white. In her hands now, it was tinted green.

  She raced toward the wrestling pair. The demon was down on the ground now, gasping for air. Sera lifted the blade high, and with a cry, she brought it down onto Jophiel’s left wing. The blade exploded with green light, slicing clean through the wing in one swipe, separating cartilage and flesh, before it fell to the ground, useless.

  The angel shrieked in agony, and he released the demon, reaching for his severed wing. With the blade tight in her grip, she backed away from him as his crazed, hate-filled eye turned on her. He moved toward her, fast as lightning. He was going to kill her for what she had just done; she could see it clear as day.

  She stumbled, feeling her foot twist out from under her, and fell to the gravel road, but she managed to keep the blade out in front of her as the angel charged. There was no sanity in his gaze, only retribution. Ze took the opportunity to tackle the angel from behind, forcing him toward the angelic blade in her grip.

  Everything happened in slow motion. The angel’s eye went wide, realization hitting him too late; the tip of the sword sunk deep into his chest. It drove straight through him and into the demon behind him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sera watched the light leaving Ze’s eyes. Terror-stricken, she sobbed. He couldn’t die—she wouldn’t let him! Not after he had risked his life to save her. He had come here to help her. She had shot him, called him crazy, and he had kissed her, the arrogant, pig-headed male. Then he had fought for her. No, NO!

  “NO! ZE! Please! Don’t leave me! Not like this. Not now…you can’t. You promised me another kiss.” Her voice was barely a whisper. The blade binding them all together suddenly blazed bright green, blinding them, a low hum surging through their bodies.

  The light of life left the eye of the angel. The blade in Sera’s hand trembled, sending out a shockwave of glittering green and white, the dissipating energy seeping into her and the demon. For one second, she could see the demon’s soul. As dark as he was with the Sin of Envy in his heart, he was also determined he would be a good man. No one controlled his future, he lived by his own code.

  The angel’s energy, that only a moment before felt sick and twisted, seemed clean now, pure and pain-free. It dissolved into the blazing light around them, the illuminating power sinking back into the demon before raining down on her own skin, throwing an iridescent glow over everything it touched.

  He was going to die. As that blade pierced his body he knew he was about to die. Demons didn’t survive being impaled by angelic weapons. Every cell in his body had felt like it was detonating at once, and then he had been blinded by the most intense green light. It surrounded him, sunk into him, infusing his body with strength and determination—he couldn’t die. But alas he had felt the fingers of darkness sweeping over him. Ze’s last thought before the black claimed him: at least I got to kiss her.

  Then light exploded back into his life. Ze gasped and jerked away from the blade, falling to his back in the dirt. He sucked in air. How was he not dead? Wait! He had been dead, hadn’t he? That blade should have killed him. Angelic weapons were an anathema to demons, but here he was, gulping in the cool air mixed with the intoxicating scent of woman. Sera.

  Rolling to his knees, he covered the place in his chest where the blade had pierced it and looked over the fallen body of the angel. The blade protruded from his back, the steel now black with death. A soft whimper brought Ze up quickly as he grabbed the fallen angel to pull him off Sera.

  A sudden surge of energy sparked from the body, burning his hands, and a vision surged into his mind. Six pairs of eyes watched him, the voices muffled and muted. He recognized Michael and Gabriel among the six, the others he had to assume were the remaining Malakhim. As quickly as the vision appeared, it vanished, and the demon shook his head. His ears were ringing, and his head felt fuzzy. He reached out again, completing his task of removing the dead weight from her. Sera lay unmoving, other than the trembling that wracked her body.

  Ze crawled to her, lifting her into his arms and giving her a quick shake. “Come on, open those pretty eyes for me.” He stroked the damp hair from her forehead until her eyelids fluttered open, shock registering in their jade depths.

  She let out a sob and moved to sit up, cupping his face with her hands. His mind was still trying to process what had happened. The angelic blade had struck true, severing the angel’s tie to the mortal world. He had been willing to sacrifice himself to save her life. There had been no question in his mind when he had tackled the angel. The blade pierced him, he felt his life leave him. But here he was, whole, with no wounds on him at all. How was that even possible?

  “You’re alive! I thought I killed you. Again. We’re not having a good time of this, are we?” Leaning forward she rested her forehead against his shoulder. He could feel her heart racing in her chest. His rumbling chuckle just served to annoy her. She scowled at him, whacking him on the arm again.

  “Hey! I was stabbed, you know. Injured man here. Be gentle.” He smiled as she grumbled about him being an ass, but she didn’t move from her position, her hands gripping his leather jacket. She could stay right there as long as she liked for all he cared. Lifting his hand, he rubbed her back softly.

  Ze scanned the road. The place looked like hell had ascended. The truck was a smoking mess, and his bike was going to need serious work to repair the damage. Then there was the body of the angel, leaking black blood all over the road.

  Taking his time, Ze gingerly stood, pulling Sera up after him. She was attached to his side, seemingly unwilling to let him go. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she was touching him without her gloves. She would come to that realization a
ll on her own, then he had no doubt the shock would set in. The pair stopped beside the fallen angel laying on his side, the blade still protruding from his chest. With one wing missing, the other limp with death and starting to shed feathers all over the ground, this was not a scene humans needed to find.

  Ze knew the orange glow in the sky to be coming from Sera’s burning farmhouse a few miles down the road. God damn, she had lost everything tonight—her home, her truck, and no doubt her sanity. He kept his arm around her, the silence stretching between them. Their footsteps crunching on the gravel, Ze walked her toward his bike; he looked at the little Seer and her expression seemed lost. Damnit all to hell. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone, hitting speed dial.

  The hellhound answered on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up? She kick you out already? No, wait. Don’t tell me. She shot you again?”

  Ze rolled his eyes, letting out a huff. “No, Rus. Will you shut it for five minutes?”

  The hound went silent on the other end. “What happened? Do you need me?” His tone had turned serious.

  “Yes, we need a cleanup. We have one dead angel and a hell of a mess to fix in regards to her home.” Ze looked over as Sera walked like some kind of zombie toward the smoking remains of her truck.

  “Did you say dead angel? Which one? Please tell me it was Michael.” The hound let out a growl. Ze knew he had a score to settle with that angel. They all did.

  “No, it was Jophiel. I have no doubt Michael felt his passing, so we don’t have much time. Call in my brothers. We need help to ward this place and fix the damage he did to the house.” Ze watched as Sera ran her hand over her rusty truck, her expression bereft.

  “I will see it done, Ze. Don’t worry. Look after the Seer. I shan’t be long.” With that, the line went dead.

  Sera hung her head, leaning against her truck. How had her life shattered so quickly? Tears spilled from her eyes, her body shaking as the adrenaline wore off. She had killed a man. Granted he had been trying to kill her and Ze, but still. How come she was not reeling with the backlash of violence?

  Right now her mind was too chaotic to think about anything else. Her truck was done for. No chance it was coming back from this. Her home was burning, she could smell it on the air. Sera sobbed harder.

  Strong, warm hands slipped over her shoulders. Her usual reaction was absent. Instead of pulling away, she turned into his strong embrace, pressing her face against his chest, crying away the pain and terror of the night. The demon held her as she wailed, a wall of strength as her world broke apart. He didn’t say anything, merely rubbed small circles on her back.

  Ze lowered his head, resting his cheek against her hair. Eventually, the sobbing stopped. Sera could finally breathe without her chest hurting. Pulling back a little, she knew she must look a fright, puffy eyes and red cheeks. If Ze noticed, he didn’t say. He just gave her a grin and tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear.

  “Feel better?”

  She nodded slowly, her eyes falling on the dead angel. She turned her face away. “What are we going to do about him?”

  Ze looked over at the body, sighing deeply. “I have called my brothers. They should be arriving soon. They will deal with the body. We can’t have someone finding an angel dead in the mortal world. There would be a media circus, and I don’t have my hair done or anything.” Ze chuckled as she jabbed his ribs with her finger.

  “Do you always make jokes in bad situations?” Sera couldn’t help it; she smiled. Bless the big lug, he was trying to lighten the mood, and damn him, he was succeeding.

  “Nah, I make jokes in all situations. Don’t feel special or anything.” She felt the smile on her lips. Despite everything that happened, he had managed to lighten her heart considerably.

  Ze moved to his bike. He stood it up and swung his leg over, tapping the seat behind him. Without a word, Sera mounted, wrapping her arms around his waist. He smelled of leather and sweat, this demon who had fought like, well, a demon for her. She owed him her life.

  The bike started without any issues, small mercy she concluded. Pushing off, he rumbled the bike away from the carnage and lingering death. Slowly, the orange glow grew brighter. Sera tightened her arms around him.

  Ze stopped the bike, the heat scorching even from the hill overlooking the farmhouse. Sera gasped as she looked around him, the flames reflected in her eyes. The house was ablaze, flickering flames eating away hungrily at the old wood. Sera half expected her brain to shut down, for tears to start streaming from her eyes again, but it didn’t happen. Nothing like having an angel nearly kill you to put your life into perspective.

  She climbed off the bike and stood to watch, her arms wrapped around herself as the flames devoured her home. There was no saving it, the angel had seen to that. The smell of acrid smoke reached her nose, and her stomach roiled with it. How had this happened so quickly? How had her life gone from one hell to another in a matter of hours? It was surreal. Part of her kept expecting this to all be some kind of crazy dream. In a minute, she was going to wake up in her bed, and everything would be back to hellishly normal.

  Yet the longer she stood there, the more the heat burned her skin, and the more it sank in. This was no dream. The crunch of gravel brought her head around as Ze stopped behind her. Regret burned brightly in his silver gaze. His eyes were so expressive. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?

  Michael, the leader of the Malakhim, roared his rage to the heavens. The very clouds shook with it as he grabbed his marble office table and threw it effortlessly against the wall. The rock shattered, splintering over the floor, and he turned his gaze to his remaining angels. His usually pristine hair was a mass of knots where he had run his hands through it in rage.

  One of their own had been lost this night, and he wanted to know why. No one should have been able to take down one of his men, not when he was wielding an angelic blade. None of his warriors uttered a word as he paced back and forth, his wings shaking with fury.

  “We don’t know much. He went after the Seer of Hindsight. It should have been easy, even if three of the demons had been there. He should have succeeded.” Chamuel was the first to speak. Thus he was the first to be struck.

  Michael was on him in a second, lifting him from the floor, throwing the two-hundred-sixty-pound angel as if he were made of straw. Chamuel hit the wall, collapsing into a pile, wincing as he coughed up blood. The once calm, cool copper eyes of their leader burned angrily.

  Michael couldn’t comprehend it. They had never lost one of their own before. It was unheard of—an angel being taken from the world. It served to remind them all that they were not truly immortal beings. They could be felled as easily as any mortal, albeit with the right weapon. The very idea made him sick. Such weakness would not be tolerated.

  Gabriel moved to stand before his brother. “Michael, we need to talk about this. You sent him to get the Seer alone. We clearly underestimated the Sins if they took him down with such ease.” Gabriel lifted his hand quickly, catching his leader’s wrist, preventing the blow that was about to follow.

  “They will pay for this. Taking one of our own is blasphemy! I will see them hung from the heavens. Their blood will make the clouds weep tears of red.” Forcing himself away from Gabriel, he stalked over to the wall, the energy which rolled from his form scorching the stone floor with every step.

  “I hardly think Jophiel’s death is our most important issue right now.” Raphael pushed off the wall, moving further into the room. Michael turned his murderous gaze on the pathetic kiss-ass. His eyes were sunken in his head, and his skin held the pallor of sickness. He had not been himself since his fight with the Seer of Empathy. True, Michael hadn’t gone easy on him for failing. Raphael looked like he had aged twenty years, strands of gray shimmering in his once solid mahogany hair. Still, the little shit had his uses.

  “Jophiel had one of the last two angelic blades. That leaves us one. We have no chance of beating the Seven Deadly Sins wi
thout more swords.” Good old Raphael, always stating the obvious.

  “I know where we can find more.” Michael’s cold voice chilled the very air. Gabriel stepped back quickly as Michael’s wild eyes turned on his Malakhim.

  “Michael, you know forging a blade requires the souls of uncorrupted mortals. I won’t be party to killing children.” Michael watched the reactions of his men carefully. Gabriel looked like he was about to be sick. Zadkiel just turned his eyes to the floor. Uriel, pathetic waste of space, didn’t utter a word. Michael sneered. Uriel should have gotten over his punishment weeks ago, but the weakling appeared to have some mental problems resulting from having his feather plucked out. Pathetic. Raphael, psychopathic as always just smiled in the corner, you could always rely on him to be up for killing mortals, it didn’t matter if they were kids. About time his men knew this was not a game.

  “Killing children? Killing children!” Michael advanced on his second-in-command, tilting his head to the side. “We’re eradicating an entire race! I don’t give a fuck about a few mortal children!”

  Gabriel winced. “You said those who were pure would survive. That they would worship us in our new Eden.” He stood his ground as he spoke, his voice shaking with anger.

  Michael moved like a snake, his hand closing around Gabriel’s throat, dragging him toward his mouth. The angel hissed, cutting off Gabriel’s words.

  “They will all die. Every. Last. One. Filthy, vile race. They will be purged. Any species that has ties with the mortals will die with them. Half-breed scum. Dream-walkers, all of them. Disgusting.” He released Gabriel and stormed from the room. He would not accept weakness in his ranks. If they were not with him, they were against him. That made them his enemies.