“Myla, you’re here!” Her golden retriever tail wags behind her. I love Cissy.
Lincoln removes his hat and bandages as well. He gestures between the two guards behind Zeke. “Same goes for you two.”
There’s a long moment that lasts forever where all the guards stare between one another. For a second, I think they might actually not be dumbasses here. After all, I never kill without giving the bad guys an out.
In this case, the bad guys in question are Ethan clones, so I’m not holding out of hope for a logical response here.
Sure enough, they don’t disappoint. All four Razor Guards reach into their jackets and pull out their guns.
I leap toward the far right Razor Guard, leap up until my boots hand on his shoulders with enough force to send the guy onto the floor. While the Razor Guard tumbles to the floor, my tail spears the Guard beside him through the chest. Once the Guard beneath my boots hits the floor, I grab his head, twist it to one side and snap his neck.
I look over to Lincoln. He’s also gone for a torso attack. Using the extra power of his new gloves, my guy has punched both of his Razor Guards right in the larynx. A pair of roundhouse kicks later, and the last two Razor Guards are laying dead on the floor. I scan all four of them. I should feel bad about this—after all, all life is precious, even if it is an Ethan clone. But then Cissy rises, and I see more bruises along her cheek and neck.
Nope, not feeling too guilty. They had an out and didn’t take it.
Cissy wraps her arms around my neck. “Myla, you’re here!”
I lean back and cup her face in my hands. “Are you all right?”
“I’m hanging in there.” Cissy rushes over to Zeke. “Are you okay, baby?”
Zeke straightens himself in his chair. “I’m great.” It’s like he’s talking through a mouthful of cotton, though.
The zoom of jets sounds through the fabric walls of the tent, reminding me that Ethan is basically trying to start another world war. “We have to stop Ethan, Cis. We need you to work your magic on the computer.”
Cissy leans in and kisses Zeke’s head. “Ugh. That Ethan guy is such an asshole. After I unlocked his stupid systems, he made me stay and monitor his plans to rule all the humans.” She looks over her shoulder and focuses on Lincoln. “Are you the real guy? Did Myla finally rescue you?”
“We don’t have time for chatter,” says Lincoln. “Myla and I came here for a reason.”
Cissy shakes her head. “You rescued the right one this time. The real Lincoln is always focused on his duty.”
I move my grip to her shoulders. “Lincoln’s right. We need your help with the computer systems.” I gently guide her away from Zeke and back into her chair before the computer console.
Okay, that’s a total lie.
I maybe push Cissy back into her chair, but this is a serious situation here. “Look, Cis. You have to stop this. There must be a way to shut the computer down and erase whatever Ethan did to the humans with his black magic.” I twiddle my fingers at the console. “Do the thing with the thing. Make the jet planes stop and everything.”
Cissy winces. “I don’t know how to do that.” Another jet roars overhead. “I just got lucky when I locked up the computers last time.”
Zeke clears his throat. “Cissy used her envy powers to challenge one of the researchers that he couldn’t open up the password systems as quickly as she could. He took her up on the challenge, and she told him to go first.” Zeke’s beat-up face melts into a loving grin. “My girl totally mind controlled him.”
“That’s all really special,” I say quickly. Now, a bunch of choppers take to the air. The whirring rotors make the walls of the tent ripple in the night. “But there are Razor Guards flying out from freaking LaGuardia to take over the human world.”
Cissy slumps in her chair. “I’m sorry, Myla. I don’t know how to hack into these systems.”
I stifle a groan. This plan is a total bust. The ground shakes as the tanks start rolling out over the tarmac. There has to be something I can do. I close my eyes and call out to Iggy one last time.
“Iggy, are you there? Did you get my father to close the gates of Heaven and Hell again? Can you please come here and help us?”
My hand warms once more. A sense of peace and joy moves through me. Yes. Iggy is coming. I call out with my soul once more.
“I need you, Iggy. Please. Hurry.”
My palm turns hotter than ever before and then cools to nothing. I rub my fingers over my palm. Lincoln steals up beside me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I tried to call Iggy again. It didn’t work.”
Lincoln wraps me in a hug. “We’ll figure out something.”
“Hey.” Zeke leans forward. “That one researcher was talking about the failsafe.” He turns to Cissy. “What was it, baby? Do you remember?”
Cissy’s eyes widen. “He did say something.”
I kneel before Cissy. “What did he say?”
A new voice sounds from the entrance flap. “A failsafe. Let me enlighten you.”
I turn around and gasp. Ethan is here. He raises his arms, and all the jet models on the tables burst into small columns of black flame. A second later, they all rise and turn toward Lincoln, Cissy, Zeke, and me.
Lincoln doesn’t so much as flinch. “Go on.”
“Kill me and it all ends. The brainwashing. The Razor Guards. The gray Armageddon clones. The black magic. We’re all linked. Take me down and they all disappear. It will be completely over.”
Wow. Once you get Ethan going, the guy is a major blabbermouth. Where was all this sharing back when I needed information?
I turn to Lincoln. Our gazes lock. The question is unasked but in my eyes. Is this true? After all, Lincoln knows Ethan better than anyone.
Lincoln gives me the barest of nods. Yes.
I round on Cissy and Zeke. “Get the hell out of here.” I don’t need to tell Cissy how to get back to Purgatory. As the Senator of Diplomacy, she has plenty of contacts that can transport her around.
Cissy puffs out her lower lip. “I won’t leave you.”
I shift my pleading gaze to Zeke. “Get her to safety. This is for Lincoln and me to end.”
Across the long tent, Ethan folds his arms across his chest. “Go get them, my sweet little models. Take down the King and Queen just like your larger versions will take down the world.”
The mini jets stop their hovering and start zooming toward us. I shove Zeke in the shoulder. “Go!”
Cissy protests, but she allows Zeke to guide her into crawling out under the bottom edge of the tent. Lincoln and I could do the same thing, but if taking down Ethan will end this whole nightmare? Then here is where we’re staying.
This ends right now, one way or another.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The air outside the tent fills with the rhythmic thud of helicopter rotors. The ground rumbles as more tanks roll out. Ethan laughs as his mini jets speed across the tent. The noses of each plane turn deadly sharp. Ethan’s plan becomes clear.
He’s going to try to stab us with his stupid flying toys.
Bring it on.
I command my Scala robes to expand out. For a second, the threads jut forward like a thousand tiny needles. Within the span of a heartbeat, they’ve torn off all my Razor Guard gear. After that, I make the threads to reform into the shape of battle gear. The process takes less than a few seconds, and then, I’m back in my chosen battle gear. What can I say? I want to go into this final fight as the Great Scala.
Once my gear is set, I shift my weight onto the balls of my feet. My tail arches behind me, ready to fight. Lincoln races forward, jumps into the air, and grabs two jets. He crushes them in his fists and drags them down. It reminds me of how King Kong takes down planes that go after him. Only replace King Kong with a really hot guy in a long black coat, and that’s pretty much the scene here.
And of course, the hotness factor isn’t missed by me. My lust demon s
ide never sleepeth.
The planes stop attacking. All the tiny vehicles hover in place. Lincoln and Ethan lock gazes. I maneuver to stand before my guy. “Wondering what happened? It seems like your attempts to drain Lincoln’s angelic nature changed how he interacts with your magic metal. We’ll give you one chance to surrender without dying.” I gesture to the screen and computer console behind me. “There must be some way for you to shut this whole mess down. Do it and you can live.”
Ethan ignores me, the creep. Instead he focuses on Lincoln. “Do you know what really happened to my parents?”
Lincoln narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve felt guilty your whole life for the demons that possessed my parents and killed my sister.”
A muscle tics along Lincoln’s jawline, but he doesn’t reply.
“Of course, he felt responsible,” I say. “You’ve been manipulating him about that for years.”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault.” The way Ethan keeps grinning, I have a feeling we won’t like what’s coming after this. “Years ago, I met an agent of Armageddon’s on demon patrol, and we made a little deal.”
Lincoln’s face pales. “You let your parents become possessed?”
“Quite right. And I booby-trapped the transfer station so they could get into Antrum while you thought it was your mistake. You all dismissed me as a warrior, but Armageddon thought I had potential. We had a deal to try to take over Earth and remake the thrax. It was almost ruined when Adair made her own deal with Armageddon, but fortunately, she failed. Once I discovered you were pregnant, I knew my time had come. Between the three of you, I would have enough angelic power to make my dream a reality. And I will still drain you, mark my words. One day, my Razor Guards will have so much angelic energy, they’ll be able to render humans quiet and easily controlled.”
When Lincoln speaks, his voice is deadly low. “So, that’s a ‘no’ on surrendering?”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “Correct. I will never give in to you. The only reason I’ve paused your demise is to ensure you realize how complete your failure has been all these years. You blamed yourself so deeply for my family’s death.” He sets his hand over his heart. “I hope the truth doesn’t upset you.”
Lincoln’s eyes gleam with rage. “That’s a ‘no’ on surrendering. Got it.” My guy holds a jet in each hand. He curls his fists more tightly. The metal crinkles as Lincoln crumples it into a short baton. Smashing his fists together, Lincoln meshes the two planes into a longer structure.
My brows lift. Lincoln is making a sword, maybe. Or a bat. I wish he could just make a baculum, but those can only be crafted by pure-blooded angels over a period of many years. Long story.
But whatever Lincoln is making, I’m down with this plan.
Ethan roars with rage. The miniature planes zoom toward us once again. I bat them away with my tail, but there are hundreds of these things, and only two of us. A knife-like jet slams into my thigh. The threads of my Scala robes strain, but don’t break. Not yet.
More jets come at me, each one focusing on the same spots over and over. One comes at my stomach in slow motion. I fall down into a fetal position. I can’t risk a body blow with pregnancy.
“Stay down, Myla,” calls Lincoln. “The metal doesn’t hurt me.”
I peek through my fingers. Sure enough, the black metal planes slam into his body, Kong style. Lincoln keeps a steady path toward Ethan. He plucks more jets from the air, crashing them together into a makeshift spear. Ethan shifts his focus entirely to Lincoln, assuming I’m going to cower in a corner of the rest of the battle.
Bad assumption.
I start crawling under the long tables, making my way toward Ethan. Meanwhile, Lincoln launches his makeshift spear. The weapon strikes Ethan straight through his shoulder. Ethan roars again, but this time in pain.
I’m tempted to yell out, Nice toss, honey, but I’m making good progress sneaking under the tables. In a few seconds, I’ll be within striking distance. There’s no way that I want Ethan catching on to what I’m up to.
Ethan pulls out the spear from his shoulder. Lincoln’s grabbed a few more planes and is starting to form a new weapon.
What happens next seems to take place in slow-motion. While I rush at Ethan, our enemy takes out a gun, points the muzzle at Lincoln, and fires. The boom of the weapon cracks through the air like thunder. The bullet strikes my guy in the gut. Lincoln curls forward. It seems to take forever for him to fall onto the ground.
Pure, white-hot rage tears through me. I leap out from under the table and tackle Ethan. Now, I know I’ve been trying to act more and more Queenly. But seeing someone shoot my Lincoln? It sends my demonic self into overdrive. And in retrospect, being Queenly doesn’t mean acting like a priss twenty-four seven. It means leading your people with a vision. And I can certainly lead while flattening someone who shot at my husband.
Straddling Ethan’s chest, I wrap my hands around his throat and pound his skull against the ground. “You shot my Lincoln! You shot my Lincoln!”
Ethan writhes beneath me, gasping for breath.
A hand rests on my shoulder. I look up. It’s Lincoln and he’s grinning. “The gun had black metal bullets.” He raises a fresh spear over his shoulder. “May I?”
I release Ethan’s throat and stand. As he gasps for breath on the ground, Lincoln stands over him. “I am Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, King of the Thrax, and Consort to the Great Scala. In executing the law of the Arbiter, I hereby sentence you for the murder of your family. I also release all the humans of Earth from your lies and black magic. The sentence for all these crimes is death.” Lincoln stabs the spear through Ethan’s heart.
Ethan’s face contorts in one last look of rage. After that, his features turn slack. His body stops moving.
He’s dead.
With Ethan’s death, the computer monitor behind us comes to life. A dozen warnings flash across the screen. Outside, a prerecorded voice sounds from all the loudspeakers. “System malfunction. All Razor Guards no longer operational. System malfunction. All Razor Guards no longer operational. Autopilot commencing. Autopilot commencing.”
The whir of tanks falls silent. The thud of helicopter rotors takes a steady rhythm, like they are hovering place. The same goes for the roar of jet engines. All the humans, who had been quietly standing about the tarmac, now start screaming their heads off. Whatever spell Ethan cast must have died with him. Everyone is freaking the hell out.
“There’s a dead demon on the runway.”
“Who’s flying those planes?”
“The helicopters! The planes! They’re about to crash!”
Lincoln and I share a look.
“Ethan told us about this,” I say. “He said his death would get rid of the Razor Guards. It also took his black magic off the metal—”
Lincoln finishes my thought. “But although Ethan’s magic has vanished, the machines are still here.” Lincoln tilts his head, listening. “They’re all in hover mode.
“How long can those things go on autopilot?” My hand pops over my mouth. “And how much stuff did he have in the air over New York?”
“Too much,” says Lincoln.
I stare at Ethan’s body. That bastard. He planned this out so if he died, he’d take half of New York with him.
I press my fists against my temples. Think, Myla. Think, think.
There must be something we can do.
This time, there’s just too much at stake. Not the least of which is the fact that if the planes and choppers come down, Lincoln and I will be the first targets.
Damn.
I’m out of things to try. This is really it. I lock gazes with Lincoln. At least, we’ll die together. I only wish I had a chance to be a better ruler to my people. Another thought appears.
And a better friend to Iggy. I never gave him a proper goodbye.
Suddenly, the warmth on my hand returns. Looking down, I see that it isn’t a mirage this time.
Chapter Thirty
I can’t believe my eyes. Iggy is here. He looks just like he did when I first saw him: a pot-bellied alien with glowing skin and long limbs.
“Great Scala needs Iggy. Iggy came as fast as Iggy could.”
Suddenly, the regular thud of helicopter rotors and jet engines falls silent. The computerized voice on the loudspeaker sounds once more. “Imminent autopilot failure. Imminent autopilot failure.” The humans freak out even harder than before.
I kneel down beside Iggy. “Listen to me carefully. We need to send out little lightning bolts into all those machines in the sky. We have to stop the planes and copters but without hurting any humans.”
“That hard for Iggy.”
“I’ll hold your hand and help you focus. It’ll be just like when we knocked out those Razor Guards. Will you help me?”
“Iggy will help.”
Closing my eyes, I call out to the igni with all my focus.
“Come to our aid, little ones. Rid us of this threat.”
I open my eyes again and scan Iggy. The little guy is scrunching up his face. Suddenly, thousands of lightning bolts go flying off his free hand. Like fireflies, they whip through the night. I can’t see this with my eyes, but I can sense them flying off into the night sky, finding all the different machines.
The computerized voice sounds again. “Autopilot failure. Autopilot failure.”
The human screaming becomes deafening. On reflex, I gasp and let go of Iggy’s hand. Lincoln kneels beside us both, quickly resetting our palms together. “You can do this, Myla.”
I mouth three words to Lincoln: I love you.
He winks.
Now that Iggy and I are reconnected, I can sense the igni once more. A thin tendril of consciousness connects me to each tiny lightning bolt. All the igni on their way, but they aren’t yet close enough to any of the planes or choppers.
Iggy fidgets beside me. “Bigga boom.”
“Careful, Iggy,” I warn. “Not yet. The igni aren’t in place.”
Angelbound THRAX Page 24
