There was no smile on her face. Still Alan could sense her pleasure at his discomfort. The pain didn’t stop, it didn’t let up as he plummeted back to the ground below. The bull reared up on its hind legs ready to accept him with its outstretched horns.
Alan wasn’t sure if he would survive the impact: even if he did, he couldn’t imagine that it would be a pleasant experience.
The air rushed past him as he fell, the pain in his head forcing him to focus only on the agonizing feeling. If Alan only could look past the discomfort and control his limbs again, he could avoid the impact. But it was too late. The throbbing was too much, the horns below approached too fast.
---
“What do you mean, ‘they took’ him?”
“Ummm…as in Alan left with them to save Angelica. Danielle is with her now. She said she’ll be fine, she just needs to rest.”
Seraphim gave Kyle a look, clearly showing that Angelica’s health was the last thing she was worried about. “How you came to be accepted into the fold after your betrayal is something I’ll have to look into later. For now, tell me where Michael is.”
“I’m here,” Michael said walking outside from the Temple entrance. “I just spoke to Danielle. She placed a tracker in Alan’s cell phone when she thought he might take off on his own. It’s proving to be even more useful than she first intended.”
“Where? Where did they take him?”
“Not too far from here. Follow me.”
Seraphim readied her wings as Michael’s billowed out beside him. Her midnight-black wings contrasted Michael’s. As a Death Angel, Seraphim accepted that her wings would never be white; a fact others of her group struggled with, to Seraphim her black wings were a mark of honor.
“Wait,” Kyle said holding up a hand as the two Angels prepared to go, “I want to help. I have a lot of making up to do.”
Seraphim exchanged a look with Michael and slowly shook her head.
“I know, Kyle,” Michael said. “But the enemy we now go to is far beyond you at this point. If you want to prove your loyalty, stay here and guard the Temple.”
Seraphim saw Kyle’s lips about to move in response; in all honesty, she didn’t care what the Nephilim had to say. There were bigger things to think about now.
Michael must have felt the same way because he lifted off the ground with a strong push of his wings and was gone, speeding though the air toward Gabriel and Alan.
Hang in there, Alan, Seraphim said to herself. Help is on the way.
---
Alan made contact with the bull’s horns at a speed he couldn’t wrap his mind around. The horns struck his lower abs and chest. The feeling took his breath away. He didn’t really have anything to compare the feeling to, he just knew there was pain—lots and lots of pain—both in his mind and also across his body.
Alan fell to the ground grabbing at his chest and abdomen. His shirt was torn into pieces, two large holes where the horns struck him leaving their mark. Alan’s hands came away clean, at least there was no blood. Broken bones and bruises, maybe, but the horns had failed to break his skin.
Alan struggled to his feet. The pain in his head was severe as ever but at least now he knew what to expect. At first the mental attack had been a surprise, now it was an obstacle he had to overcome.
The bull pawed at the ground in front of him reading itself for another charge. Large puffs of air came out of its nostrils. Spittle flew in every direction as it reared back and came at him again. If it was just the pain in his head Alan could deal with it, coupled with the charging bull he still knew he had a chance. However with so many enemies to keep track of he failed again.
Not that Alan thought Gabriel had any code of conduct, still he imagined this was a test of sorts before the Fallen Archangel himself entered the arena. Alan was wrong.
Focusing past the mental anguish was taxing; charging to meet the bull once again was draining. Gabriel striking him from the back was simply more than Alan could handle.
Fire erupted all around him. The blast sent him reeling forward straight into the bull’s horns yet again. The horns were well placed, this time making contact with Alan’s forehead and sternum. Alan felt himself tossed to the ground on impact. He was lying on his back staring into the peaceful sky; the same sky that shone down on millions of others going about their day-to-day lives without a care in the world. That same sky that bore witness to the events unfolding on the supernatural plane below.
Defeat or death had never crossed Alan’s mind. Yet now as he stared past the blood oozing down his face, past the intense throbbing coming from his head, he knew he was going to die.
Gabriel appeared above him in his line of sight. Red and black flames played across his entire form like a second skin. His clothes somehow resisted the flames licking at his body. Even from Alan’s position on the ground, he could feel the heat pushing against his skin, growing still in its intensity.
“You should have joined us,” Gabriel said with a cruel look in his eye. “I wish I could draw this out a bit longer. Taking you apart piece by piece would be an honor. Think of it: the first Horseman to ever fall before the final conflict. However, time is of the essence. Your death will have to be swift.”
Gabriel lifted his right hand into the air where a flame the size of a basketball grew shifting and writhing in its own heat.
Alan knew he had to get up. He had to move or this was going to be the end.
Chapter 8
Once second the pain was so deep in his mind, Alan was beginning to wonder if there ever existed a time when he hadn’t felt its searing agony; the next second, it was gone. The relief the absence of the pressure in his head brought made Alan blink, even smile despite his still dire situation.
A loud whooshing noise accompanied the absence of mental pain. It sounded like a helicopter passing by at an incredible speed.
Alan wasn’t the only one to notice the noise. Gabriel tore his eyes from his prey just in time for what looked like a lightening bolt to strike him square in the chest. The Archangel grimaced and staggered back. The fire orb in his hand, meant for Alan, disappeared in the presence of the interruption.
Alan staggered to his feet, looking in every direction for answers. Michael stood a few feet behind him. The Archangel was wreathed in crackling patterns of electricity. Much like Gabriel, he wore the glowing energy as if it were a part of him.
Michael’s wings were splayed out on either side making him look twice as large as he actually was. In his right hand he held a sizzling shaft made entirely of electricity.
Alan looked past the blood to see his friend and even managed a smile. “I had him.”
Michael gave Alan a wink. “I know you did. Are you hurt?”
“No,” Alan lied, “but I learned the hard way that I can bleed.”
Alan reached Michael’s side and stared back at Gabriel and the bull that had gored him only moments before. Alan was a fast learner. He was already familiar with the tactics of his enemies. “We’re missing one, Michael,” Alan said scanning the area with swift turns of his head. “There’s another one with the ability to get inside your head and—”
A scream spilt the air as a body fell from the sky. The impact the figure made on the ground was sickening. Alan’s eyes widened as he saw the same women who inflicted so much pain on him before now lying still on the grassy knoll. Her left leg was bent behind her in an unnatural position; blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. She was still alive gasping for breath, writhing in pain.
A question was already on Alan’s lips. Just as he was beginning to form his thoughts into words, Seraphim landed beside him in a great rush of black feathers.
“You’re bleeding,” Seraphim said to Alan with a concerned look on her face. “You shouldn’t be bleeding.” Her eyes traveled to the woman’s body she had swooped up, then dropped from the sky just seconds before. “None of you should be bleeding.”
“It is interesting, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked fr
om his position a few yard in front of them. “Only celestial weapons were thought capable of killing a supernatural being.” Gabriel motioned with his chin to his own underling who was twitching in pain struggling to breath only a few feet from his position. He looked at the woman who had decided to fight for him with no more pity than someone would have when stepping on an ant.
“We can bleed now perhaps even die without having to use the blades of Heaven. My, oh my, how the game is changing.”
“What have you done, Gabriel?” Michael asked.
“I’ve planned. While you have grown fat and content to monitor the dealings with the Fallen, I’ve grown in power. I’ve recruited, I’ve done everything a good general should, including changing the rules and the way the game is played.”
“How,” Seraphim said. “How have you done this?”
Gabriel looked at Seraphim for the first time. “You thought you and yours killed me during the battle of the Final Day, didn’t you?” Gabriel smiled and shook his head. “You’re an idiot if you think you or anyone in your clan of Death Angels could measure up to my power then. You have no hope now. I have become something to rival the Creator and the Usurper themselves. I have changed the course of history and if I told you how, now, what fun would that be? All you need be concerned with is realizing that I can and will kill you.”
Two flames shot from Gabriel’s hands forming a matching pair of swords. The swords were gleaming weapons of black and red. Fire leaped from either blade.
The twisted version of a bull next to Gabriel stood on its hind legs. Alan blinked as the figure of the raging animal twisted and transformed again, this time into a bear.
The creature had to be eight feet tall. The same yellowish tint ran across its fur which hung in matted clumps. Razor-like claws the size of knives grew from every paw. Its mouth was a cave of deadly edges and sharp points. The beast let out a roar that made Alan’s insides vibrate.
“We’ll figure out the ‘how’ later,” Michael said to Seraphim and Alan. He motioned with both his hands as the electricity coursing over his body shot to his hands and formed a single spear of light as long as he was tall. “I’ll deal with Gabriel, Seraphim you—”
Alan stood by Michael, both men in shock as the Death Angel ran forward. Wild red hair trailing behind, her she apparently was done with talking.
Alan looked to Michael with raised eyebrows. Michael just shook his head as he turned to Alan with a stern look. “Stay out of this, you are more important than any of us.” Without waiting for a response Michael ran forward.
Alan thought about obeying Michael’s words for a passing moment and just as quickly dismissed the idea.
---
There was no doubt who Seraphim was targeting. Her path took her straight to the Fallen leader. Alan and Michael raced to catch her but Seraphim was on a mission for blood. Black wings streaming out behind her, Alan wondered if there was anything more beautiful and violent at the same time.
As Seraphim closed the distance between herself and her target, Gabriel gave a motion with his hand. The bear beside him lunged forward and tackled Seraphim in its large, shaggy arms. Both the Death Angel and the mutated Demon rolled across the grass in a ball of black wings and fur.
Michael held his course for his Fallen counterpart. The choice of who Alan should help was made for him a second later as he witnessed Seraphim gain the upper-hand in her own struggle. The mess of yellowish fur and black feathers stopped rolling with her on top raining down blows across the bear’s face.
Content she could handle herself, Alan moved to assist Michael. The two Archangels clashed with so much force a spasm rocked the earth itself. A sound like thunder ripped from their conflict as flaming swords collided with the electric spear. Their fighting skills were so far beyond Alan that they looked like blurs of black and white light. Parrying, thrusting, dodging in a fraction of a second their engagement was almost hypnotic.
Alan shook himself free from the feeling of awe. He frantically searched for an opening in their fighting. Concern for his own well-being was thrust out the door as he watched Michael in very real danger from the Fallen Archangel. A quick glance told him Michael was already losing. Gabriel was so much faster with every move. The blows he landed, though parried by Michael’s spear, still pushed back the Angel of Light.
Alan’s heart raced as he chided himself for not already joining the fray. He knew these two supernatural beings had an eternity of time to prefect their skills in combat, still he refused to give himself an excuse for not stepping in. If he was War, if he was one of the Four, then he possessed powers even he didn’t know.
As these thoughts ran though his mind, an opportunity presented itself, a brief pause in the battle in front of him. Gabriel managed to find a break in Michael’s defense landing a strong kick to Michael’s chest. The Archangel fighting for Heaven stumbled backwards.
As Gabriel moved to take advantage of his downed opponent, Alan threw himself forward. He didn’t have a plan so much as a need to do something to help. Weaponless, Alan gained speed as he soared onward. Blue wings out behind him propelling him forward. He flew just feet above the ground. If he could pull off the same move he performed against Drake, then maybe he had a chance.
It turned out Alan had no chance as Gabriel caught his movement out of the corner of his eye.
“No!” Michael yelled.
Gabriel wheeled around and with perfect timing landed a kick to Alan’s right temple.
Alan saw it coming at the last second and tried to avoid the blow but Gabriel was just too fast. Alan felt as though a sledgehammer connected with his skull as his course was altered and he was thrown to the side. Blackness fought his vision as unconsciousness struggled to take residence. Alan felt his body tumble and fall. Then the pain took a back seat to the hazy murk that was flirting with his vision.
Alan stumbled to get back to his feet. His mind was urging his feet to stand firm underneath him but his motor functions refused to cooperate. He could see Gabriel holding Michael by his throat. One hand lifted Michael off the ground, the other hand formed a fiery orb that crackled and danced with its horrific temperature. Gabriel was speaking to Michael loud enough for Alan to hear. Gabriel’s voice sounded as if he were shouting to him in a tunnel.
“Look at what your alliance to the Light has brought you, brother,” Gabriel screamed into Michael’s face. “Look as you behold true power and witness an end to your precious Horseman of War.”
With his free hand Gabriel drew back and then shot his hand forward, sending a barrage of flames toward Alan.
Alan was still struggling to stand much less able to protect himself from Gabriel’s attack. It was as if he was seeing the events unfold around him in a dream. The heat the fire brought with it reminded him this was far from any dream or nightmare.
Alan closed his eyes embracing his fate. For the second time that day, he was saved.
---
Blackness covered him at every side.
I’m dead, Alan thought. This is what is must be like to be dead.
The sound of a woman screaming and shuddering all around him told Alan that he wasn’t dead. Feathers brushed against his face and body as Seraphim shielded him from Gabriel’s attack using her own body.
She screamed again. The noise was enough to shake Alan from his stupor. Her body quaked in spasms as the heat traveled over her wings but she refused to lower the protective shield around Alan.
The sound of such despair and anguish brought tears to Alan’s eyes. Alan could feel her pain from the sound of her screams. Anger soon followed as he heard Gabriel laughing somewhere in the distance.
Then, all of a sudden, it was over. Seraphim slumped to the ground in a pile of smoking feathers. Alan pushed his hatred for the Fallen Archangel aside and knelt beside Seraphim. Nothing else mattered now. All that mattered was the he didn’t lose another friend.
Something was going on in his peripheral vision. Past giant bear’s limp form
the fight with Gabriel was continuing. Movement from three contenders instead of two caught Alan’s attention. Michael was one, Gabriel another and the third, a woman, hovered in air above the Archangels. Alan didn’t take the time to understand who she was. Tears moistened his eyes as he did his best to gently put out the flames that still ran across Seraphim’s wings.
---
Aided by her power over gravity, Ardat was among only a few Fallen members who did not require wings to fly.
Artemis told Gideon where to find Michael and Gabriel. Once he relayed the news to her, she was off without a moment to spare. The collar inhibiting her powers was removed after she was released from the prison. A second later, Ardat was running for the exit.
“I’ll be right behind you with a squadron of Angels,” Esther yelled after her.
Ardat ignored the call and instead concentrated all her effort on speed. There was no reason to doubt Gideon or Artemis. Michael was in desperate need of her help.
Wind whipped around her as she flew through the air like a heat-seeking missile. As every physical muscle focused on arriving at her destination as soon as possible, her mind wandered to Gideon’s deal.
He wasn’t as trusting as she first thought. It was a clever plan to have her promise to protect the Nephilim Alan Price. If his fate was in fact interwoven with Michael’s, then she was given no real choice in protecting the boy. Plus, if this was the cost of her freedom and she was also free to be with Michael, then watching over the Horseman of War seemed like a necessary annoyance.
Her thoughts turned to Gabriel himself as Ardat pushed herself to her physical breaking point. Since the rumors were true and Gabriel was alive, he would now be making the moves that he had been planning for years.
Alan Price and the Temple of Artemis Page 10
