Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3)

by Rene Lanausse

  “Parked her here before we left for White Plains,” Alyssa shouts back. “Lily said I can hang onto Baby until we all go our separate ways.”

  I shrug, and shoot a few bursts at a demon following close behind Alyssa. It crashes onto the stone steps a few feet away from me, and the hardened skin covering its body dissipates into a black mist. The human underneath peeks through, and bright red curls spill out onto the ground. I watch for a moment as this poor woman’s body returns to normal, then jump straight back into taking out the rest of the demons trying to surround us.

  Alyssa and I are nearly out of opponents when I feel a strange shift in the air. It’s almost as if something is missing, something I hadn’t realized had been there until it vanished. Alyssa pulls to a stop near the statue, and asks, “Did you feel that?”

  “Yeah… what just happened?”

  “No idea.”

  Just under the motorcycle’s engine, I hear the crackle of my earpiece just before Jenna speaks. “Bad news, you guys… I think Lily is down.”

  Alyssa’s panicked expression mirrors my own. Neither of us are Lily’s biggest fans, but I’m sure neither of us wanted this to happen. I press the button on my earpiece, and ask, “What do you mean down?”

  “As in dead. Or, gone. I don’t know what Michael did to her, but… she’s off the grid.” I can feel the air shift once more, and I realize it’s my second sight, telling me that someone powerful has fallen. “There goes Joel,” Jenna comments. “This is bad… We need Michael out of the way if we’re gonna win this thing.”

  I can feel Alyssa silently pleading with me not to say anything, but we both know I have to. I’m our only hope of stopping him now. I take a long look into Alyssa’s eyes before saying, “I’m on it.”

  “Good, because I think we just lost Terry. You may wanna hurry.” Jenna falls silent, and I can feel the line go dead. She’s off to help someone else.

  Alyssa watches me with a stony face, and I imagine she’s holding back everything she’s ever wanted to say to me. But there’s nothing she can say to make me stay, and I know she would never try. In a shaky voice, she mutters, “Be safe,” and I can feel the weight of all the unsaid words behind the order.

  “I will,” I assure her. “I’ll be back in a few.” I single out Michael’s power from the rest of the angels, the most powerful being I’ve ever come across. With a deep breath, I launch myself into the air, and fly in his direction.

  The closer I get to my father, the more I begin to doubt myself. I sounded confident when I told Jenna I would take him on, but he’s an archangel, the strongest of the strong. I’m not going to be able to face him head on, like I normally would. I’ll have to focus on his weaknesses, and exploit them… the only problem is finding any.

  I land on the roof of the Javitz Center, my feet sliding on the wet glass before I come to a stop. I can see Michael nearby, standing near the edge, staring out at the Hudson River. Without turning to face me, he asks, “Have you come to avenge your fallen friends?”

  “Not quite,” I answer as I carefully step closer. “I’m here for me.”

  “You?” Michael glares at me over his shoulder, and asks, “What have I ever done to you, Heather?”

  “You created a monster. You tried to use me as a tool of destruction, so you wouldn’t get your own hands dirty. You asked me to accept that you would kill fifteen million people, just to ensure a victory.”

  “Ah. So it was you who tampered with the sigils?”

  “It was. I couldn’t sit by while you murdered millions of people, you have to have known that.”

  “I suppose you and I just have very different priorities. Your instinct to protect humans especially stems from your limited view of the world. I have the best interests of entire realms in mind.”

  “We don’t have to do this.” I put away my pistols, and hold up my empty, weaponless hands. “Lucifer is dead, and I doubt the rest of his army will ever show. We can walk away from this on good terms. You can call off your angels, and stop the violence.”

  I knew better than to expect my plea to change anything, but it’s still a shock to hear Michael say, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Even with Lucifer gone, we must purge every plane of his filth. And if that means the whole planet will burn, then so be it. I will light the flame that saves my subjects.”

  “Then you leave me no choice. I can’t let a man like you replace God.” I grab the hilt of my sword instinctively, and freeze in place. The grip feels the same as ever, but an entirely new sensation washes over me. Heat floods my veins, and I hear several voices simultaneously whisper, You are not alone. Then an unseen force tugs at my muscles, and I pull the sword free against my will. The blade ignites as it usually does when free of its sheath, but the flames burn white instead of a reddish-orange. I can feel its heat pulsing through me, and for the first time, the sword and I are one.

  Michael watches me with curious eyes, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What is this?”

  “Your downfall,” I answer in a voice that isn’t my own. “In the name of Zadkiel, Jophiel, Chamuel, Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel, you will be punished.”

  “No…” Michael swallows hard, and tries to hold back his fury, but he’s failing miserably. “Not only are you betraying me, but you intend to borrow the strength of my fallen brothers to do so? I have to say, daughter of mine… I expected better of you.”

  Now that I have full control of my body again, I reach up to my neck, and pull at the silver chain. The necklace Michael gave me snaps, and I throw the remnants of his gift off the roof of the Javitz Center. “Sorry, Michael. But you no longer get to call yourself my father.” I break into a run, but Michael won’t let me any closer than I already am. He stamps a foot on the ground, and a fraction of his enormous power flows downward. The glass beneath me splinters, and collapses inward on itself, and both Michael and I tumble through the gaping hole in the roof.

  Two can play at that game. I close my eyes, and I can feel the incredible power of six slain archangels surge through my body. I’m not sure I’m qualified to wield this sort of strength, but they seem to trust me. When I open my eyes again, I can see the world as they do; I can make out the individual building blocks that comprise everything the universe has ever produced. Any spellcaster can rearrange these building blocks. I can bend the universe to my will.

  I reach out a hand, and feel the molecules in the air as they pass around and through me. I feel around me for anything in the building made of metal, and turn it all to dust. All around me, support beams and pipes vaporize, and the entire building caves in upon itself. Before the ground gives out, Michael turns and runs before taking flight. I follow close behind, and fly through the widening hole in the roof just as the Javitz Center truly begins to crumble.

  Once we’re in the open air, I find it hard to keep up with Michael. He’s much more experienced in the air, and his wings don’t tire him out as easily as mine do. But as he flies between buildings, I vaporize the metal supports nearest to the streets. Hundred foot high buildings crumble and topple over into Michael’s path, until he lands atop one of the fallen buildings. He glares up at me, and shouts, “What are you waiting for?”

  “What do you mean?,” I ask as I touch down in the street several yards away.”

  “With the power you now command, you can end my life at any moment,” he points out. “So why make both of us wait?”

  In a way, he’s right. I have the power to finish this. I could break the bonds holding together every molecule in his body, and dissolve him into a fine powder. But that’s his way of handing a situation. “I’m not you,” I respond. “And I never will be. I’ll find a way to stop you without killing you.”

  “You will try.” Michael waves a hand over the street, and an unseen force rips through the ground. I dive out of the way just as a plume of rubble erupts where I once stood. Even with the strength of six archangels available to me, I’m still intimidated by Michael’s prowess. He aims anot
her spell at me, and I roll out of harm’s way, nearly impaling myself on my sword in the process. I sheath it as I stand again, and keep my eyes locked on Michael, mentally preparing for his next attack.

  After Michael’s third attempt at harming me from a distance, I decide to get in closer. I teleport to his side, and aim a punch straight at his face. He catches my fist mid-swing, and shoves me out of striking range with his shoulder. Hand to hand combat may not be his specialty, but he manages to interrupt my every attempt to knock him senseless. Finally, I get in a shot at his abdomen, and it feels like punching a fleshy brick wall. Michael is much more durable than I’d ever expected. And for some reason, I get the feeling that he’s holding back. Is he really so reluctant to hurt his own daughter, even when she’s a threat? Have I judged him wrong?

  Michael reaffirms my judgment of him before my doubts can truly take root. After shoving me away, he fires a spell upward, and an angel passing overhead cries in pain as he falls to the ground. I cover my mouth to mask my surprise; it’s Tyrael’s limp body lying on the ground before us. Michael relieves Tyrael of his weapon, and pierces the poor angel’s heart. Much like Lucifer, Tyrael’s body splinters and bursts in a shower of light, leaving a scorch mark on the ground where he once was. Michael turns to face me once more, and holds his stolen sword in a defensive stance.

  This is problematic; we both know that Michael’s skill with a sword far exceeds mine. I can’t let him anywhere near me with a weapon in his hand. I pull at the molecules holding the sword together until they unravel, and it turns to dust in Michael’s hands. But it’s a futile effort; if he killed one angel, a close friend, to try and get an advantage, he’ll kill another. I have to get him away from the action. I blast him backward with a gust of wind, and use another to give myself a boost before taking flight.

  I consider leading Michael across the river into New Jersey, but there are still civilians there. I can’t endanger innocent people. I’ll have to stay within the city, but where? I’ll have to avoid leading him across Manhattan, there will be other angels there. Michael would just arm himself again. I make up my mind to lead him south, towards Staten Island. There, we’ll be entirely on our own.

  I check over my shoulder to see that Michael is following me, and put on an extra burst of speed as I fly above the river. I feel Michael’s power wash over the water, and a massive wave reaches upward, carrying an abandoned ferry ship with it. The orange painted metal rushes up to meet me, and I’m so surprised that I can’t react quickly enough. My head strikes the side of the ship, and I’m only vaguely aware of the pain as the world around me blurs, and gravity pulls me toward the murky water below.

  29

  Slamming into the surface of the water feels reminiscent of running headfirst into a wall. The pain in my head is only magnified, and every inch of my skin burns with the impact. At least I’d had the sense not to cry out in pain; if I had, my lungs would be filling up with water right now. I’m already sinking and dealing with a possible concussion, I don’t want to add drowning to the list.

  I’m still foggy from my brush with the Staten Island Ferry, but my thoughts clear up before long, and I start struggling towards the surface. It’s no use; even if I were confident on which way is up, I realize that swimming to safety will take too long. I’ll run out of air before I can take another dry breath. So I push every single molecule of water from my body, and the river parts on either side of me. I find myself standing on the bottom of the river, completely dry, and yet surrounded by water.

  I can see a clear sky above me, so I push myself upward with a spell, until I’m clear to continue flying towards Staten Island. But Michael slams into me from the side, and wraps his arms around me. Both of us flap our wings frantically, but neither of us can stay airborne for long entangled as we are. We crash into the roof of a building on Governor’s Island, and Michael is the first of us back on his feet. He kicks out at my face, but I use my hand to stop him in his tracks, and roll out of his reach. In a flash, I’m on my feet as well, and we circle around each other, each of us watching the other closely.

  One look into Michael’s emerald green eyes tells me he’s no longer toying around; he’s ready to strike me down, if it means he’ll achieve his goal. I wonder if people see the same deadly determination in my eyes on occasion; do people see my tenacity the same way I see Michael’s? On a whim, I offer, “Last chance, Michael. Stand down. Don’t make me hurt you.”

  Michael lets out a chilling laugh, and asks, “What’s the matter, little girl? Are you scared of me all of a sudden?”

  The little girl comment snaps something within me, and I can’t help but tell him off. “I may not be willing to kill you… But this little girl will break every bone in your body if she has to.”

  “That’s it!” Michael grins, and says, “That, right there. Don’t you see? We’re not as different as you pretend. When it comes down to it, you have the same fire in you that I do. It’s in all of us. The only difference is that you choose to fight your very nature.”

  “No. I can’t accept that. We can’t all be violent, murdering sociopaths by default. And even if you’re right, I’ll fight that part of myself any day. We are what we choose to be, and I choose to protect this and every other world from the likes of you.”

  “Then you have chosen the path of the fool. You will not stop me from ascending the throne, not even with the aid of my brothers.”

  “We’ll see about that.” I unleash a gust of air meant to knock Michael from the rooftop, but he deflects it with a spell of his own, and dissolves the ground we stand on. Together, we fall through the roof, and land hard on the tiled floor of what looks like a prison. Michael recovers before I do, and blasts me backward before I can stop him. I teleport to the other side of the brick wall behind me just a second before making contact, and spread my wings before I fall to the ground. If Michael wants to hurt me, he’ll have to do better than that.

  The building’s brick façade crumbles under the force of Michael’s power, and he stands watching me as I circle around the building. We shouldn’t fight here; there’s too much history on this island to let it get caught in the crossfire. But Staten Island is too far, and Manhattan occupied by angels, so I banks towards Brooklyn in the end. Michael leaps from his perch on the prison’s fourth floor, and follows me across the water.

  Evidently, Michael doesn’t enjoy being led further from Manhattan. A crackling ball of white flame passes right by me, followed by several others. I whirl around, and shoot fire from my very fingertips, a disc of white flame larger than my entire body. It seems like Michael is engulfed by the flames, but he flies under them, and hits me with a powerful undercut. My spell dissipates, and after the second blow to my face, I fall out of the sky in a dizzying spiral.

  I right myself just in time to avoid slamming into the street, and fight to gain more altitude. But Michael throws an empty bus into my path, and there’s no way for me to avoid it. I bring my feet forward, spring off the roof of the bus, and spin around to fire a spell back at Michael, but he’s nowhere to be found. I land on the ground, and hurl the bus into the air in frustration. Where the hell is he?

  When I finally spot Michael on the roof of a building, I teleport to his location, careful to end up a few feet away in case he’s prepared for my arrival. He spins around to face me as the bus slams into the ground below. He rushes towards me, and pulls back his arm, his intent to punch me clear as day in his body language. When I step out of his way, however, he hops into the air, and hits me with a high enough kick to land right in the center of my chest. I back away, clutching at my sternum, and lift Michael into the air with a spell. Try as he might, his strength isn’t enough to free him from my grasp. I throw him clear across the street, and he crashes through the window of an office building.

  I glide across the street, and soar through the very same window Michael shattered before landing. He’s ready for me, though, and throws a desk at my head. I rip apart the molecules
holding the desk in one piece, and sail through the dust without incident. When I land, Michael aims another kick at my chest, which I grab onto before it hits home. I bring down my elbow on his knee in the hopes I can break his leg, but Michael’s bone structure is just dense enough to withstand the blow. I release his leg, and punch him in the nose before sweeping his ankles out from under him.

  I go to bring my foot down on Michael’s face, but he rolls out of the way in the nick of time. He grips me with a spell, and throws me to the side, where I crash into a sheetrock wall. In an instant, he’s by my side, and has his fingers around my neck. He punches me in the face once, twice, over and over until I can feel blood rolling down my cheek, and spots cloud my vision from the lack of oxygen. I dissolve the support beams holding up the Jay Street side of the building, and seconds later, the ground beneath us tilts far enough that Michael slides towards the windows, and finally releases me.

  Time seems to slow down in the few seconds before the building slams into the ground. But the moment it does, I land on top of Michael, and both of us groan in pain and exertion. He roughly shoves me to the side, and runs for the nearest window that isn’t pressed to the pavement. He knocks out the glass with a spell, and runs onto the street as I scramble to my feet. He must be on his way back to Manhattan. I can’t let that happen; he’ll only kill another angel, grab another weapon, and become a threat once again. But no more. The killing ends here.

  When I follow Michael out onto the street, I have trouble finding him for a moment. But I see a dark shape soaring through the skies, and give chase. He’s too fast for me to catch with my wings alone, so I surge through the air with a spell, with my hand in front of my face to protect it some from the wind resistance. By the time I’m close enough to Michael to stop him, we’re over the Brooklyn Bridge. I allow gravity to drag me down, and land hard on Michael’s back. He lets out a startled shout, and the two of us tumble over each other on our way down to the bridge below.