Armen swung to her right, and Terry brought his blade around to the left. Agares stopped Terry’s blade, but Armen was successful in hitting him on the leg with the shillelagh. His yellow eyes met hers and he smirked with the blades locked.
“Nice weapon, Azel.” He forced Terry’s sword down and jerked in a motion to vanish. He jerked again, and his eyes widened with the realization of what Armen had just done to him.
“HA! Nice weapon, indeed.” One hit from the shillelagh grounded him to this plane.
Fury built in his eyes, the fire burning brightly, and he roared. The shadows darkened and slithered along the floor.
“I hope you’re ready for this,” Armen said, keeping an eye on Agares. He wouldn’t get too close now, which would make him easier to kill once they finished with the minions.
Terry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from Agares. “You, too.”
The shades rose from the floor and neared Armen and Terry.
“I’m really wishing for silver bullets right now,” Terry said.
“Then you wouldn’t have to be so close to them.”
“Exactly.” He looked at the scepter. “One blade or two?”
“For these guys, I’d go with two.”
Terry agreed by rapidly switching the blades. “Two it is, then.”
Armen’s eyes flicked to Sean. “I really hope your dad has something in that satchel to defend himself.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. I don’t even know all the shit he carries with him.” Terry quickly sliced through the shade materializing before him. “One down.”
“Make that two,” Armen said after shoving the end of the shillelagh through the chest of the oncoming minion. Its flesh sizzled and popped when she withdrew her weapon, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Nasty, I’d much rather have a cleaner kill.”
Terry chuckled, taking out two more before answering. “I’d give you the scepter, but I’m kind of using it right now.” He swiftly decapitated the next materializing minion.
“That’s okay,” she replied and clubbed another with the head of the shillelagh. “You were meant to wield it.”
“Then why are you so good with it?”
Armen glanced at him. “Duck.” She swung the shillelagh over his head and sent the minion flying into a concrete column, where it exploded into a shower of embers. “Because all angels of old were warriors, and I am most definitely an angel of old.”
“Och. Nae all angels of ould were warriors,” Sean said, throwing a fine powder around himself as a barrier against the minions coming toward him.
“In a manner of speaking, they were,” Armen argued. She scanned the area to find Agares hiding behind one of the columns. “Don’t even think you can hide from me,” she shouted at him. She brought the shillelagh around and took out three minions, sending them to the floor in a burst of fiery dust.
Sean tossed a handful of powder at a brave minion, who retreated, screaming in agony. “Naw. You have those who helped with creation. They certainly were nae warriors.”
Terry lurched forward to take on two more minions, beheaded them, and jumped to the side to take three more.
Armen laughed. “They are when you mess with their creations.”
Surprising Armen, Agares actually chuckled before he briefly engaged Terry for a few rotations. Then he slipped around one of the columns again. He was testing Terry’s distractibility level, she figured. Good luck with that, she thought, because that man was on constant point when it came to focus. Hardcore was an understatement.
“Do we really need to have this debate right now?” Terry asked in the midst of spearing a minion through the chest. “I mean, we’re in the middle of a fight.” He yanked the scepter back and the minion dropped to the floor and burned.
“Next, he’ll want my witty comments to stop,” Armen said and took a quick headcount.
“Only you think yourself humorous, Doctor Leza.” Terry lunged for two of the remaining minions.
“You find me funny on a regular basis, Detective Armstrong.” She swung at the last minion. “You even said so before my condo burnt down.”
After killing the two he’d lunged for, Terry straightened and held the scepter at his side. “I found your avoidance issues amusing at the time, Armen, and I still do.”
“Same difference.” She turned on Agares, summoning him with her finger. “Come on, we’ll make it quick before the next wave.”
Agares walked around the concrete column with a sneer. “Do you think it wise to destroy me, Azel?”
“I’m gonna let him have the honors, since you tried to kill his dad twice now.” She pointed to Terry.
“And my woman,” Terry added.
He studied the two of them. “You fight well together, but I would like this one-on-one.”
“As you wish.” She walked a few paces over to Sean. “I’ve already done my part.”
“That, you have, Azel,” he grumbled and stepped forward.
“It’ll really suck for you if you win.” She turned to face him again. Terry switched the scepter’s blades out.
“Why is that?” He turned his blade in his hand as he neared Terry.
“Because you’ll be stuck here forever if you can’t dematerialize.” She beamed when his eyes darted to her. “At least, until I kill you . . . because I will kill you if you take his life.”
“She kind of likes having me around,” Terry said.
“I can’t possibly see why.”
Armen slammed the shillelagh to the floor.
Terry thrust at him in his moment of distraction, and Agares redirected the blade and pushed him back. He slowly wagged a finger at Terry. “Ah, ah, ah, Knight. Do not make the mistake of thinking I am not aware of my surroundings.”
Terry grinned. “Just testing.”
Agares thrust his blade forward and down. Terry blocked, stepped to the side with it, and immediately turned his own blade back and down for a lower hit. The silver sliced into the demon’s leg. Agares yelled and swung his sword wide at Terry. When Terry blocked, the force of impact sent him stumbling backwards. His eyes locked with Armen’s briefly.
“You didn’t tell me he was that strong!” He quickly blocked the next attack, which sent him tumbling to the concrete floor.
“Don’t worry about his strength,” Armen replied, hoping her worry didn’t show. “Find his weakness.”
Terry rolled, Agares’ blade narrowly missing him, and he jumped to his feet. “Easy for you to say, you know him better than I do.”
Armen turned to Sean. “Do you have anything in that bag he can use?”
“Possibly.” He searched his satchel and pulled out a small vial. “Here, this might do the trick.”
Armen took the vial and examined it. “What is it?” The vial appeared to be empty.
“Angel’s breath,” Sean replied.
She lifted a brow, surprised. “You’re serious.”
Sean nodded. “Absolutely.”
An idea came to mind. “Terry.” When he turned to her, she tossed the vial at him, but Agares snatched it from its path.
“Remind me not to ever play catch with you,” Terry said.
So predictable. “Certainly, after you kill the demon.”
Agares held the vial up to his nose and sniffed. “What is this, Azel, something magical?”
“There’s nothing magical about it.” It was the truth.
“It looks empty, but I know there are things invisible to the eye.” The flame in his eyes flashed brightly and his vision changed. “And yet, I still cannot see it.”
“There’s nothing for you to see. I just want a sample of your blood.” She glared at Terry. “Get the vial from him. You need it.”
Terry nodded subtly and attacked Agares with force. The metal clanged and echoed in the garage when their swords clashed. Agares held tightly onto the vial, even when Terry’s blade cut into his arm. It was a deep gash; one that had him step back after throwing Terry to the gro
und again. He growled upon inspecting the wound that shouldn’t be there, or should at least start healing right away. Silver didn’t allow such luxuries. He opened his hand, revealing the empty vial. Terry got to his feet once more, and Agares positioned his thumb to open the vial.
“No!” Armen tried with all her might to withhold her eagerness for Agares to open the glass cylinder, but she waited patiently through seconds that felt like hours. The top of it popped off and she slammed the tip of the shillelagh to the floor. Its thunder reverberated all around them, and Agares’ eyes widened with surprise as he froze in place.
“What is this?”
A whisper came forth, touching their ears like a soft breeze. Agares’ horrified expression frightened her at first, for the sound feathering around her was unexpected, though Terry and Sean seemed to show no indication of hearing the voice. Armen somehow knew the voice that breathed in her ears, and she knew from whom it came. It had been so long since she’d last heard that voice, though she couldn’t recall hearing it at the same time. It was familiar, yet strange to her, as though she’d only ever heard it one time.
Agares dropped to his knees, his sword supporting his body, the vial falling from his hand and shattering on the concrete. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head violently. Finally, his body calmed and he knelt as still as a statue. Only one word passed in the silence between them, and Armen whispered it with him.
“Mother.”
Armen stared at the kneeling demon, not sure what to think. Was the breath upon their ears actually her Mother? Did she and Agares share the same Mother? Ash suggested that Armen was the only one conceived, but it could have been a lie. Demons lied a lot, but then, they also liked to exaggerate fact, so there could be some truth to what Ash said.
“Kill him, Terry,” she said softly. “He can’t move now.”
Little did any of them know, she couldn’t really move, either.
The tip of the scepter’s blade rested lightly against Agares’ chest just above the heart, over his armor.
“Do you think there is life after death for you, demon?”
Slowly, Agares’ eyes lifted, the vibrant yellow showing half-circles mimicking the sun as it dips just into the horizon. His lips curved back to reveal a sliver of his demon teeth.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Armen could sense the strength building in his arm in order to force the blade through the red armor.
Mother, please, let me move.
“Terry, wait.” She forced her feet forward, though it was extremely difficult, but she felt the energy shift, allowing her movement. If she’d had a moment to think, the weight of emotion at experiencing her Mother would crumble her.
Terry relaxed only a fraction. He didn’t trust that the demon couldn’t move, nor should he.
Armen stepped up to Agares, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Why were you after me?”
Terry’s eyes shifted to her. “You stopped me to ask that question?”
“I need to know.” She returned her attention to the demon.
Agares’ grin remained, but he said nothing. Armen squeezed his shoulder, digging into a wound left by Terry’s sword during their fight, until he shrieked.
“Why do you seek me, Agares?” she snarled in her ancient demon tongue as a gust of wind blew through the garage.
A short laugh left his throat and he roared once more when Armen put pressure on the wound. A curse in a thousand languages old and new flew past his lips, and he glowered at her. Armen punched him in the face and his head jerked back. He still knelt, unable to move. Another gust of wind, stronger this time, swept the underground structure.
“Answer me,” she demanded.
“Why, shall you let me live?”
Armen bit her lower lip in contemplation.
Terry frowned. “Armen, what did you just ask him?”
She leaned over Agares. “Tell me the truth, or you will die, slowly. Sariel’s death wasn’t pretty.”
“Because you are Father’s only true child . . . who is flesh.”
She leaned forward, closer to him, her lips next to his ear. “I don’t believe you.”
“Nor should you have reason to. However, it is the truth . . . for once.”
“And why does fetching me hold any importance?”
“Because you are the Light, dearest Azel, O fallen angel.”
“So, if you douse the Light, only Darkness shall remain.”
“Darkness shall come.”
“Gehenna,” she whispered as the wind tossed her hair around, its ends whipping her cheeks.
“No. All of it.”
“Gehenna what?” Terry asked.
Armen became leery of the wind within the concrete fortress. It wasn’t normal by any means. She looked over to Sean briefly, who made his way gradually toward them. The creak of metal sounded, reverberating off the concrete walls. Terry snapped his head around to see what it was, as did Armen, but nothing came into view.
She returned her gaze to Terry. “Gehenna is where all the souls of sinners go to wait until the End of Days.”
“Yeah, we’ve covered that already.”
“Yes, but if they extinguish the Light, all souls will fall into the Darkness,” Armen added. “And I believe we covered that as well.”
Terry stared at her a moment. “Shit.”
“And why were you after Sean?”
“He is on Samyaza’s list.”
“What list?” Armen saw the sinister grin reach his eyes. “Oh, that list. Oh my.” That list held the names of those who were the top enemies of the Angel of Darkness. Armen shifted her eyes to Terry and Sean. “Basically, that list is Samyaza’s FBI’s Most Wanted.”
“Shit.” Terry averted his eyes from Armen and Agares to the other end of the garage. Armen followed his gaze. The gale of wind forcing through the garage rocked the cars. A car alarm sounded, making them all jump, and Terry shifted the blade, accidentally cutting Agares just at his neckline between the collarbones. Agares drew in a hiss as the silver burned his flesh. The wind picked up.
“What the hell is going on?” Terry asked.
“The Angel’s Breath is weakening,” Sean said from behind Terry. “Take him noo.”
Armen stood back so Terry could complete his task. The cars rocked harder. Those at the far end lifted from the ground, and the farthest vehicle lifted tail end first and slammed on top of the one next to it. The bumper fell off and the wind picked it up.
“Look out,” Armen shouted, and they all ducked when it sailed overhead and slammed into the wall near the door they came through previously.
Agares’ hands moved to the blade, grasping it tightly though it burned his flesh, keeping the silver from gliding through him. He raised his knee and secured his foot to the ground.
Go, the voice floated around her.
Her Mother, again.
“Terry,” Armen yelled.
Terry held the scepter with all his strength, struggling against Agares, unwilling to let the blade go. Cars moved forward into the aisle between rows. Armen wondered, not for the first time, if the cost of stopping the Darkness would be their lives.
Blood trickled down Agares’ hands as the silver-dipped steel blade cut into his flesh, and he forced himself to stand. A Ford Mustang patrol car hurtled toward them, sirens blaring and lights flashing. They all ducked again, Agares bending back, and the car tumbled over their heads and into the wall, coming to rest on top of another car. The siren made an awful screech before whining into silence.
“Is that a tornado?” Sean yelled over the wind.
Armen scanned the ramp of the garage and she grabbed Terry’s arm. “We need to get the hell out of here!”
Terry still struggled against Agares, the scowl on his face matching the glare on the demon’s. He tugged on the blade, cutting Agares’ hands deeper, and once he pulled it free of the demon’s grasp, he held it up and sliced diagonally through Agares’ armor. More debris flew pas
t them, and Armen pushed Sean toward the stairwell door.
“Terry, now,” she shouted over the wind, hoping he could hear her.
Agares’ breastplate fell to the floor with a loud clang amplified by the carrying winds. He fell backwards, and Terry turned and ran after Armen and Sean.
“Go,” he yelled, and they ran through the doorway. He slammed the door behind him once he was through.
Armen looked back at him and Sean was already halfway up the first flight when Terry stepped back from the door. It shook and rattled, the bolts on the hinges rising up.
He ran up the stairs after them, shouting, “Run!”
Armen burst through the first floor doorway opening into complete chaos, and ran directly into Captain Brian McNeil. They tumbled to the floor, and Armen scrambled to her feet in the midst of Brian’s obscenities.
“Shit, Brian, stay the hell out of the way.”
“No time for arguing.” Terry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along. “He’s coming.”
“Who’s coming?” Brian said, getting to his feet. The garage door clanged and echoed in the stairwell. “That freak who killed Art?”
“Yes,” Armen and Terry answered.
“Well, kill the son of a bitch.”
They all ran toward the lobby.
“We’re trying,” Armen shouted.
“He’s a real pain in the ass to kill. Of course, I could have if someone hadn’t stopped me.”
“Oh, shut up,” Armen snapped. “You would have done the same.” She slid to a halt on the marble floor in the center of the lobby and scanned the area. “Sean!”
Sean stopped in front of her. “What?”
“Is there any way to stop his weather control?” She really didn’t want to take this outside. The tornado would be much larger and too big to run from, although tearing a building apart from the inside wasn’t an ideal situation, either.
“The only way would be to destroy him,” Sean replied.
Terry ran back toward the hall upon hearing this.
“Son, what’re ye doin’?”
“Sneak attack,” Terry replied a mere moment before the demon’s entrance into the hall sounded with the train echo of a tornado. Terry slammed up against the shaking wall. His eyes quickly met Armen’s, and he mouthed his command to her. She nodded and pushed Brian toward the front doors.
Dusk of Death: an Armen Leza, Demon Hunter novel (Armageddon Trilogy Book 1) Page 25
