by James Somers
Black had been the one to kill him within the throne room of the Shade King. Everyone knew it. Black had made no attempt to hide his identity from the king of that day.
The angel cast away the lightning. It bothered him very little. A mere inconvenience. Even the power of one of the Sons of Anarchy, like Laish, was no match for the awesome might that God had invested within these creatures. The scriptures were clear in the matter of angels within the order of creation. They were greater in power and might than mankind. Still, the extent of that greatness was unknown.
Only Malak-esh had been found to have the ability to disrupt their influence. This heavenly weapon may have been akin to the flaming sword that kept the way at the Garden of Eden back in the days of Adam and his wife. Black may have wanted revenge, or to have that weapon directly from Brody’s dead hand. Either way, Laish meant to keep him busy, if he could.
Black stalked toward him. “You’re wasting my time, old man,” he said.
“Is that what you said to Brian Shade before you murdered him and Queen Sophia?”
The angel paused at this question. Then he smiled. “Are they dead? How wonderful.”
“You should know, Black,” Laish growled. “You’re the one who did it, trying to frame Brody for the murder.”
Laish wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Black all of this. One part of him wanted to accuse the angel. Another part was unsure if Black had been involved. Surely, he would gloat over what he had done, if it had been the case.
“I’m not exactly sure what you’re referring to, old man,” Black said. “Rest assured, if I had wanted to do any of those things, it would have been done. Still, I can’t help smiling at the news. That is, if you’re telling me the truth. You may only be stalling.”
Laish threw himself into a teleportation frenzy, vanishing and reappearing all around Black. Each time he appeared, he cast another attack. Lightning, blast waves, anything he could think of that might halt Black’s advance. He knew he couldn’t stop the angel, but if he kept him occupied, Brody and the others might have a chance to escape.
The pattern had been erratic. Still, there must have been something. Black managed to either see a pattern Laish hadn’t realized he was following, or he just got lucky. Either way, the results were devastating.
A terrible shockwave pummeled Laish as he appeared again intending another lightning attack with as much power as he could muster. The blast of energy smashed him to the ground like a frenzied team of horses. He lay there, staring up at the thunderstorm brewing overhead.
Heavenly figures, angels with wings outstretched, were silhouetted by incessant flashes of lightning. He could not help but wonder at both the ferocity of their attack and the beauty of their forms. They appeared to be doing battle with the three cherubim. And the cherubim were losing.
Ishbe’s face appeared in Laish’s vision. Before he could speak, Black raised his sword. Laish’s breath caught in his chest. He had been about to say something. He had been working up the strength to get back to his feet and fight with the angel. But all of that effort had been stolen away.
The light was growing dim now. The cacophonous concert of thunder sounded muffled and distant. Laish grew very still, releasing his final breath at Black’s feet.
The fallen angel retrieved his sword, pulling it free of the old elf’s body. He looked up at the battle unfolding in the heavens above. The heavenly host was attacking his cherubim masters. He had to do something in order to save himself.
He could risk the time and try to get the sword from West, but it was a gamble. His own power would be nullified, giving Brody the advantage in a confrontation. Besides, even if he managed to overcome West and steal the weapon, nothing would stop the heavenly host. All the power of the Almighty was at their disposal in such matters.
There was only one course of action. He had to flee. He still had a mortal host—a living, breathing body that he could use as a conduit to remain in the mortal world. He just had to keep it alive, and now the cherubim were powerless to anchor him here. Soon enough, they would be cast into Tartarus themselves. And, if he tarried, Black would be next.
He turned and started to run away from the coliseum and the center of all this activity. If he could gain some distance, he might be able to teleport away from the city. Still, he could already feel the resistance. The cherubim had employed similar power against those who attempted to flee Ireland nine years ago. In fact, the cherubim had imbued him with the ability to create the barrier that prevented anyone from leaving even by teleportation. Still, the Descendants had managed to get by this somehow.
Lucifer was standing there when he turned to go.
“Leaving the party so soon, brother?” he said. Lucifer was staring into the clouds, seeing through the veil to the battle raging beyond. “You’ll soon be free of your taskmasters. Why not stay and see what happens?”
“I’ll not wait to be cast into Tartarus with them, if that’s what you mean,” Black retorted. “Out of my way, Lucifer. I’m not out of the game yet.”
“I could kill your mortal host,” he threatened.
Black smiled. “You could try, but I don’t believe you could manage it as easily as you think.”
Lucifer smiled, nodding. “I do believe you are right, brother.”
A blade of light stabbed through Black’s chest from behind, catching him completely unaware. He sank to his knees, looking into Lucifer’s smiling face in astonishment. What had happened? How had he done it?
Wrath
Brody and the others made it half way across the arena before he stopped abruptly, looking back toward the entrance he and Sadie had come by. He looked at Sadie resolutely. “You have Malak-esh,” he said to her. “Go with Cole and get Adolf out of here.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I can’t leave Laish to do what he’s attempting,” Brody said. “I’ve got to help him before it’s too late. I’ll catch up with you through the blood bond.”
Cole and Sadie nodded and then raced away toward Adolf. He was beginning to become overwhelmed. By now, even his berserker rage was waning due to sheer exhaustion. He would soon fall to their enemies.
Brody turned back, starting for the entrance he had come by into the arena. Several cries from above caught his attention over the din. Dragons were flying over. If he wasn’t mistaken, these were the Dragon Riders themselves. He had definitely seen the big black one before. Thorn, he thought it was called.
Hopefully, they had now come to help rescue Cole and Sadie and Adolf. After all, they had gone with the Dragon Riders several days ago in order to look into joining their cause. If anyone could help in all this mess, Brody supposed it must be dragons.
Nevertheless, he had no time to coordinate their efforts. Laish was alone with Black. He could only hope that his old friend was still alive. Not too much time had passed. But any time spent with a fallen angel was likely to be fatal.
Brody teleported to the place where he had left his friend. He was torn when he saw Laish lying upon the ground. He couldn’t speak. Laish was looking into the sky with lifeless eyes.
The wound in his chest had been struck directly through his breastbone. His death would have come within seconds. Almost immediately, he would have bled out.
Tears sprang to Brody’s eyes. Rage flashed across his face. He had known this gentle man for years now. His death had now come by the same fallen angel who had taken the life of his brother, Donatus, years earlier.
Stranger still was the fact that Black was still standing twenty paces away with his back to his victim. What was he doing? Had Brody not known better, he might have supposed that Black was having a conversation with someone. But there was no one to be seen.
Brody mustered all of his energies and took several long strides, running toward the angel. Still, Black did not turn to face him. Brody leaped into the air, summoning Malak-esh to his hand. Using all of his strength, he brought the blade down, stabbing it into the ang
el’s back, driving it out through the chest of Black’s mortal host.
Black sank to his knees, his final breaths mere gasps. Brody let the body of Ishbe fall. The blade evaporated from the wound, returning to Brody’s hand. He wiped the tears from his eyes—tears of rage for the loss of his wife and his friends, though neither tears nor rage would ever bring them back.
The deed was done. Surely, there was no way for Black to return from this. At any rate, he had thought so before only to find that the slippery fallen angel had prepared ahead of time for just such eventualities. There was no time to waste in wondering now. He had dealt him a blow. At the very least there might be a reprieve from the angel’s interference for some time.
He looked back to the arena where the dragons were now attacking. Swathes of fire and streams of acid cascaded down into the coliseum as they strafed the battlefield. Screams, even louder than before, came to his ears as the dragons unleashed their fury upon those trapped inside.
Brody realized that his daughter and Cole and Adolf were almost certainly still present inside the arena. What if the dragons failed to discriminate between the enemy and those dear to him? Warner and his riders might not realize what had happened until it was too late.
He teleported away again, leaving Black’s mortal host lying in the street where he had fallen. Laish lay nearby, his lifeless eyes still staring blankly at the battle raging overhead. Brody might have taken him away had there been time, but events were unfolding too quickly. How long did he have to get his daughter and the others away before the wrath of God fell full force upon the city?
Lucifer watched as Black sank to his knees, the heavenly blade protruding from his chest. Brody West stood behind him having delivered the fatal blow. He smiled delightedly at the surprise in Black’s eyes. His brother had not been aware of West appearing on the street behind him.
Black had been too preoccupied with Lucifer. He had not noticed when the young man drew from the well of pain churning in his heart, mustering the fury to attack. Not until the blade had pierced his flesh had Black known that death had come for him.
His mortal host was dead already by the time the blade struck. However, Lucifer had watched, invisible to West’s eyes, as Black’s spirit lingered within the host. His brother was trying to keep himself from succumbing to the grip of Tartarus. But this was folly.
Lucifer almost told him what had happened in those waning moments when Black’s astonishment took over. He might have given him a clue, but he didn’t. After all, Black would need something to occupy his mind, a puzzle to mull over while he wiled away the years in his prison. Lucifer didn’t want to deny him the relentless frustration he would experience, never knowing how his brother had bested him.
We caught up with Adolf, Sadie and I taking down enemies that were quickly hemming him in. From what I could see, Adolf was growing sluggish now. However, he had utterly destroyed dozens of opponents with little more than his natural abilities and his bare hands.
By the time we reached him, killing the few that were left making an attempt on his life, Adolf was staggering. Sadie and I each grabbed an arm, trying to support him. He flailed angrily, not realizing we were here to help him. We managed to get him under control despite him fighting for his freedom. We were strong enough, and he was weak enough.
Those left in the arena, including the vampires were desperately attempting to flee the newest wave of attacks, this time coming from the sky. Warner and his Dragon Riders had arrived. They were busy now strafing the arena floor with fire and acid.
“We had better get out of the coliseum,” I said. “They might not distinguish between us and our enemies.”
No sooner had we spoken than Brody appeared before us. We had no time to discuss options. He threw a portal matrix over us all like a blanket, delivering us instantly from the burning and dissolving brought on by the dragons. We arrived out in the street a great distance from the fighting.
Brody looked surprised. “We’re still here?”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I meant to teleport us back to Highmore Castle,” he said. It’s like the barrier that kept us trapped in Ireland. I can’t reach beyond this place to send us away.”
“Where is Laish?” Sadie asked, still helping me support an exhausted Adolf. He was covered in blood and grime. We had no idea what belonged to him and what belonged to his victims.
Brody’s expression was grim. “Laish has fallen to Black,” he said. “However, Malak-esh has avenged him. I left Ishbe’s body dead in the street.”
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“If we don’t escape quickly, the wrath of Almighty God will fall upon this place and us,” he said.
“That won’t be the only thing falling upon this city,” Sadie said, gazing down the empty boulevard.
We followed her gaze and found a huge bridge made of sandstone extending from the top of the wall down onto the street. An army was marching over it. My eyes found Liam Shade at the forefront. Behind him marched cavalrymen on their horses and chariots.
A seemingly endless infantry marched on foot behind these. They were Leprechauns, elves, and werewolves. Even some humans were among them. But this didn’t make sense to me.
“What is he doing here with an army?” I asked.
“Hunting us,” Brody said, grimacing.
“For Brian Shade’s murder?” Sadie asked her father.
He nodded.
I looked at them both with a puzzled expression. “You killed the—?”
Sadie interrupted me. “He didn’t do it,” she said. “Someone killed Shade and my mother and made it look like my father.”
I didn’t know what to say. My jaw was moving, but no words were coming. Queen Sophia was dead? How could this have happened in just these few days while we had been captive here?
Sadie slapped my cheek gently, looking me in the eye. “We can’t do this—action now, questions later.”
I nodded, coming to my senses. She was right. We couldn’t simply stand here waiting for someone to come and kill us. Apparently, the list of people trying to was growing exponentially.
Situated as we were, I might have expected Liam Shade to have seen us already. However, his army marched past us less than fifty yards away, heading for the coliseum where all of the activity was taking place. All of Yusupov’s Breed warriors were there, or nearby, and the dragons were still raining down fire and acid.
“I’ve rendered us invisible,” Brody whispered.
In the streets around us vampire women and children ran here and there. I wasn’t sure if they were trying to locate their husbands and fathers, find shelter, or escape the city. Everyone was in a panic, and the arrival of this army only stirred the pot more.
Werewolves transformed and fanned out away from the other infantry soldiers. They had their noses to the air, scenting. If they were looking for us, we wouldn’t stay hidden for long.
A howl went up from several Lycans, signaling the others that they had whomever’s scent they were searching for.
“They’ve found us,” Sadie said.
“What?” Adolf asked groggily. He looked at the army wearily. “I’ve got this.”
None of us was really paying him any mind, at this point. He could barely stand without our help. Still, if his healing abilities had any say in the matter, Adolf’s strength would quickly renew. But this wasn’t a fight we wanted.
Brody enveloped us again in a portal matrix, whisking us away from the street. Unfortunately, we hadn’t gone far enough. We were now standing before the massive temple dedicated to the cherubim.
“Probably not the best place to be with God’s wrath coming down,” Brody said, growing frustrated. “The Lord’s host must be reining in everyone’s ability to teleport out of this place.”
“What can we do?” Sadie asked.
“Maybe if we create a portal together?” I offered.
“You!” Adolf cried out suddenly. His stupor appeared to h
ave worn off somewhat. He tore free from our grip, leaping unexpectedly at Brody.
Busy with another attempt to conjure a portal that would let us out of the city before it became to late to escape, Brody didn’t even notice what was going on until Adolf had a hold on him. Then the screaming began.
Brody cried out as Adolf latched onto him. It took me a fraction of a second to realize that his hold alone was doing something to Sadie’s father. Was our friend still in his berserker rage? Why was he doing this?
“I’ll kill you!” he screamed.
Without thinking, I pummeled Adolf with telekinetic Kalandra. My maneuver hit him like an invisible fist—literally an extension of my own hand. Adolf was knocked away, leaving Brody shaking uncontrollably on the ground.
“He’s having some sort of seizure,” Sadie cried, falling to her knees beside her father.
She placed her hands on Brody’s chest and head, falling into the rhythmic chant of the healers. I knew what she was doing, but I had no time to help. The call of the werewolves resounded nearby as Adolf scrambled back to his feet with bloodlust in his eyes for Brody.
I thrust out my hand instinctively, applying telekinesis again, if only to let him know I was going to withhold him. His eyes darted to me angrily. “Why are you protecting him?!”
“Why are you attacking him? It’s Brody!”
“Yes, I know,” Adolf said menacingly. “He killed the Shade King. He even killed her mother.” He pointed at Sadie.
She wasn’t listening. Sadie had gone deep into the trance that healers undergo when they attempt to ascertain injury and correct it in the bodies of their patients. No doubt she was merging her essence with her father’s in an attempt to heal him from whatever Adolf had done.
