Forged by Fire (Angels at the Edge Book 1)

by Michael Arches

  “Agreed,” they both said together.

  The demons’ rig raced up the mountains. The radio announcer had given up on playing music. Instead, he focused on reporting about hundreds of individual attacks across the country—twenty-two fires or explosions in Los Angeles alone. Ten dead there. Another dozen blazes in the hills north and south of San Francisco had killed twenty people and forced the closure of the Golden Gate Bridge. The only two ways out of the city were the bridge to Oakland or the ferry to Vallejo.

  “The reason I’m still here,” Griffin said, “is Honah made a promise to give you some help with these monsters. If trouble doesn’t start soon, Cleo and I will be pulled away, and you’ll have to return to your sister’s ranch.”

  “Sure,” I replied, “but we all know the monsters ahead of us are serious about adding to the mayhem.”

  The freeway leveled off at about 7,500 feet in elevation. Then, the white Jeep exited the freeway at the Evergreen Parkway. The mountains surrounding us were mostly covered with ponderosa pines and spruces, both of which burned like torches.

  Stronger gusts of wind buffeted the car. This is going to be a night to remember.

  The demons slowed down and turned onto a back road. Dozens of houses surrounded us, most sitting on a few acres of thickly forested land. Because there was little traffic, Cleo had to drive without lights.

  The Jeep slowed a couple of times at street signs. They were apparently looking for one particular road.

  My stomach roiled. We were getting close to their goal, and the wind was continuing to strengthen.

  Suddenly, the driver ahead slammed on the brakes and turned on a driveway marked by a sign that said Christ’s Church of the Pines.

  Cleo parked in a rutted pullout next to the sign.

  “I can’t imagine what’s special about this place,” Griffin said. “We must’ve passed dozens of more impressive churches along the way.”

  “I’ve no idea either,” I confessed, “except that the demons seem interested in some religious meeting. No matter. Monsters don’t belong in holy places. This can’t end well.”

  “I agree,” Griffin replied. “I assume they are meeting Pierce here. I will attack him first. The werewolf is the second-most dangerous demon, so Cleo will do her best against him. That leaves the dwarf to you, Gabriel. If any of our opponents begin to overwhelm us, we say something to warn the others, agreed?”

  Cleo and I nodded our heads.

  Chapter 23

  WITH THAT, CLEO drove up the driveway. We soon reached an old church made from logs. It was two-stories tall and included a steeple topped with a cross. A half-dozen vehicles were parked next to the building, including a van with the words Archdiocese of Denver lettered on the door. The white Jeep sat there, too.

  “We’re in the right place,” I whispered as we exited the car.

  The church’s front door was open, and a handwritten sign taped next to it said, Welcome Front Range Ecumenical Council Members!

  Fang and Stump were already inside, defiling this holy ground. My desire for revenge against Fang in particular swelled up inside me. “We’ve got to finish these creatures off, once and for all.”

  “Agreed,” Griffin replied, “but be careful. I’m the only true swordsman on our side. And we’ll get no help.”

  I let my guardian angel, in full battle attire, enter first. Cleo also wore her white gown and wings. They both looked bigger and stronger than their human forms. I was proud to be in their mighty company, but I just looked like myself.

  The large nave was dark, lit only by a few candles. Griffin, Cleo, and I rushed toward the altar at the front of the room. In the first row of pews, ten people sat squirming. Their arms and legs were tied, and their mouths were taped shut. Each of them wore some kind of religious uniform, including four with clerical collars. They moaned together, eyes wide and bloodshot.

  I pulled the tape off the nearest person’s mouth and whispered, “What’s happening?”

  In a raspy voice, the priest said, “They’re torturing us, one by one in the next room.” He nodded to the right where a door ajar sat in the middle of the wall. A scream of agony came from that direction.

  I sense strong satanic power, Griffin told me. Remember, I take the lead. Understood?

  Sure. I replied. This was the moment I’d been waiting for since seeing all the suffering from the first fire. Time for payback.

  All three of us extracted our swords from their scabbards. Cleo and I stayed behind Griffin, more than happy to let the experienced fighter take the point. We entered the next room, but swirling smoke made it hard to see. The air reeked of charred wood and burning flesh.

  A large fire roared in a stone fireplace like those once used for cooking. This fire had spilled out onto the slate floor, providing the only light in the room. A figure slumped over in a chair close to the flames. His skin was covered with burns, some bleeding.

  Five shadowy figures moved near the chair. They hadn’t frozen, so they had to be dark immortals.

  Oops, Griffin thought. More than I expected. Keep your backs to mine. They’ll try to encircle us. As long as we stay together, they can’t attack our backs.

  Cleo and I turned our backs to him. We moved together into what seemed to be the center of this old-style kitchen. As we shuffled over, I stepped on something. It was the mutilated body of a naked, gray-haired woman. Blood oozed out of dozens of gashes and burns.

  Poor woman. Her spirit had already left her body. The demons must’ve tortured her to death.

  I fought to keep from screaming from the fear racing through me, and I struggled to focus on the immediate danger. We were outnumbered, and three of these demons were the most powerful in the area. My whole body tingled with fear, and it took all my self-control to keep from running away while that option was still possible.

  A young devil stepped forward from my right side. He leered like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. I kept my sword in front to ward him away. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the others, but they’d all seemed to be males, a wraith, a dwarf, a werewolf, and two devils.

  Griffin shifted to face Pierce, and I lined up in front of Stump. Cleo faced Fang. We had to ignore the devils for the moment. As long as the three of us stayed close together, the devils couldn’t do much.

  I pushed down my fear and lashed out at the dwarf, who was three times as wide as me.

  He didn’t flinch, continuing to move closer, and he puffed up like he ruled the world. His right hand contained his red flaming broadsword, which was longer than my blade.

  The leer on his face told me he felt good about his chances against someone as puny as me. And I had no wings, so I obviously wasn’t a full angel.

  Nevertheless, I swept my flaming sword in front of myself in a figure eight pattern. At least, this wasn’t my first rodeo.

  Stump was much more impressive, a bare-chested monster with long arms and rippling muscles. No taller than me, but he made Arnold Schwarzenegger look like a girly man.

  In his deep, gravelly voice, he said, “We meet at your end, Pretender. Another of your kind without wings, Toller, fell to my blade. He begged for mercy and wept before he fell.”

  If this monster thought flapping his lips would scare me, he was crazy. I wasn’t going to give up my life with Ellen and her daughter until I’d fought to the bitter end.

  Although my legs trembled, I said with a clear voice, “Talk’s cheap, Stump. I’m not weeping.”

  Instead, I lunged forward, extending my arm as far as possible, but I couldn’t force the demon’s sword to the side far enough. Sparks flew as our blades met, and a loud clash rang out. Within seconds, the air was full of the sound of metal banging on metal from all the battles around me.

  I couldn’t pay any attention to Griffin and Cleo, other than offering a quick prayer for their success.

  Stump chuckled, side-stepped faster than I’d expected him to move, and slashed at me waist-high with his flaming blade. The dwarf’s sword
moved faster than the night before. Maybe he’d been too drunk to fight well then.

  Not anymore. I barely managed to get mine in position to block a powerful blow crashing down from above. It took all my new strength to deflect his blow.

  At the same time, I could sense Griffin struggling behind me as he confronted the wraith. One of those devils screamed, but I couldn’t tell which one.

  Stump lunged from the side, forcing me back against Cleo’s wings. “Sorry!”

  “Just keep fighting, Gabe,” she whispered. “Remember your training.”

  Dance, fool, I reminded myself.

  I kept my feet moving, stayed balanced. When the dwarf stabbed at me, his arm fully extended, I tried to cut it off. But he pulled it back too fast.

  My sword met only air.

  Without missing a beat, he slashed from the left barely missing my ducking head.

  My hands shook, but then I remembered that these a--holes had killed me! They’d also killed Trixie and a dozen other people, not to mention burning thousands of animals to death. Worst of all, they were terrorizing everyone in the West. Classic guerrilla war tactics.

  We couldn’t let the demons win. Feeling stronger, I aimed low, trying to slash at Stump’s legs, but the dwarf anticipated my blow. His red sword clanged against mine as it blocked my blade. Then forced me backward into Griffin.

  Thanks only to my training from Diana, I managed to stay on my feet. Balance was everything. Dance.

  I kept my trembling legs moving. At the same time, I fired off a message to Honah, Just a reminder, we could really use some help if possible.

  Understood, but I have no fighters to spare. Hold them off without trying to be heroic. I’ll send someone as soon as I can.

  Did the Big Boss just say, don’t take unnecessary chances? My only alternative to this fight was to flee, but I couldn’t leave those poor clerics to these monsters.

  The damned tightened their circle around us, and Stump lunged at me. His blade sliced the skin over my ribcage, and the cut burned as if someone had poured acid into the wound. I couldn’t heal the cursed wound, but I pushed the pain away.

  Yeah, Cleo, Griffin, and I sure could use some help.

  Satanic shrieks filled the air as they yelled in their perverted language. Most of the time, though, all I heard was grunting and the clangs of swords.

  I struggled to focus on Stump. He was too strong for me to fight head on. What is his weakness?

  The dwarf’s blade whooshed again as it swung toward my head, and I barely ducked in time. As the blade passed, I stabbed at the dwarf, hitting his protruding stomach.

  Stump screamed, so he wasn’t invincible. But the wound didn’t slow him down. His broadsword came down again, and I barely sidestepped in time.

  My whole body trembled. I tried to push my fear out of my mind. Had to focus on fighting smarter.

  No good ideas, so I sliced at his gut again. It was closest.

  He roared as his eyes turned red, full of fury. With a blizzard of strikes, he came at me over and over, mindlessly slashing now.

  Thanks to a couple of lucky guesses, I avoided each one. Then the monster’s red blade whistled right in front of my eyes, close enough to cut the tip of my nose.

  Our angelic luck was running out.

  Stump screamed in their nasty tongue, and his sword crashed down upon me again, as if to emphasize his determination to crush me. It took all of my remaining strength to deflect the blow.

  At the same instant, Griffin screamed in pain behind me.

  The wraith’s high-pitched shriek sounded triumphant.

  Time for a last hail-Mary pass. What is the dwarf’s weakness?

  Overconfidence? Without taking the time to second-guess myself, I pretended to cower. “Please! Enough! Just let us go!”

  Stump roared with glee. “Too late, Pretender!”

  He lifted his flaming blade, holding it with both hands to drive the point down through my head as I crouched on my knees. For that fraction of a second, the giant devil’s bulging stomach remained exposed.

  I hurled myself at him in a last, desperate lunge. My sword seemed to guide itself deep into his stomach.

  He screamed in agony and shuddered. Black blood surged around my blade. I scrambled forward on my knees, just a few more inches, trying to drive my sword out the demon’s back.

  He twisted in torment, and his legs collapsed. As he fell forward, my sword ran him through. With a blinding burst of light, the dark immortal vanished into smoke—just as he was about to bury me under his massive body.

  Chapter 24

  “FANTASTIC!” GRIFFIN YELLED. “Now help me!”

  I spun and found him flailing frantically to keep Pierce and the two demons back. Griffin’s free arm hung limply, almost severed at the elbow.

  I chanced a quick glance at Cleo. Thank God, she seemed to be holding off Fang, so I focused on helping our wounded guardian angel.

  The wraith shrieked again, and I trembled in fear.

  My throat tightened, and my legs almost buckled, but I launched myself at the closest devil. My sword and body became one weapon, a deadly spear that pierced the heart of my opponent. Black blood sprayed out as the demon staggered backward and vaporized.

  Now the odds were even—until Griffin screamed in agony and fell backwards onto his folded wings. All I could do for him was to stand over his shuddering body and fight off Pierce.

  Luckily, Griffin had wounded the wraith. The angel had sliced open Pierce’s cloak and damaged his left leg. I hacked at that injury with my sword, trying to sever it completely.

  Pierce wobbled as he swung his blade over my head. He’d lost that critical balance Diana was always harping about. God bless you for harping!

  The wraith couldn’t swing its sword at me without toppling over.

  I scrambled forward, staying down low away from his blade and stabbed at his pelvis. My blade went in but not through.

  Pierce’s scream didn’t sound the least bit triumphant this time. He hobbled away, out of my reach.

  Cleo, who I’d almost forgotten, yelled, “Yes!”

  Another burst of light signaled the passing of Fang into the great void. She revenged all those deaths by the fires he’d caused, but Pierce had put him up to it. Even though wounded, he was still deadly.

  “You go girl! Now help me!” I yelled.

  She rushed toward me, her wings spread out to help her balance. She and I closed in on the wraith from opposite sides. He leaned against the stone fireplace to support himself and swung his blade at me, but I barely blocked it. His power was incredible, even stronger than the dwarf.

  Cleo didn’t hesitate to take advantage of him attacking me. She swept her sword across in a sideways arc, waist-high, cutting the dark immortal in half above the hips. Her momentum kept the sword circling, and it ripped a deep gash in the stone fireplace. This time, there was no blood or gore, just another brilliant flash as Pierce and his weapon vanished forever.

  Before I could heal Griffin, though, we had to finish off the last devil. I lunged at him.

  Except, this last one didn’t seem to like his odds. He took several steps backwards, turned, and ran to an open door leading outside. As he crossed the threshold, he transformed into a raven and flew out of sight.

  -o-o-o-

  “VICTORY!” BUT AT what cost?

  I knelt next to Griffin. Our guardian angel continued to writhe on the stone floor, moaning. Hope flooded through me. He’s still alive.

  Although he’d been wounded several times, the worst was a long diagonal slash across his chest. That wound was several inches deep, enough to slice open a human’s heart. Thank God, the angel didn’t have one. He did have lungs, though, and both of them had been cut open.

  I tried to remember what Yasmin had told me about healing satanic injuries. The lesson seemed so long ago. I needed to get in touch with God’s perfect grace. If I didn’t, the poison seeping through his injuries, and much less powerfully in mine,
would destroy us both.

  In order to achieve that state of grace, I needed to meditate at the deepest level. Impossible in this foul and dark room—a Hell on Earth.

  Still, I had to try—couldn’t face Yasmin if I didn’t do everything in my power. This angel had fought for me several times. “Send a message! He’s almost gone.”

  I couldn’t think about that or anything else. I closed my eyes and focused on clearing my mind. Poisonous fumes from Griffin’s wound mixed with the same poison oozing through me, but I bent over him. I had only seconds to center myself. As I focused on the sudden quiet, I tried to push away all emotion.

  Then Griffin whimpered in agony. His time was fast running out.

  I emptied my mind as best I could then laid my hands on him. Searing pain flooded through me, much worse than when I’d been cut. The curse was too much for me to reverse.

  But I didn’t pull back. Better to pass into the void with him than to live with the shame of giving up while I still had strength left to share.

  I let everything go as I emptied my mind. Not for long. The satanic curse was too powerful, filling my mind. The calmness I sought would not settle into me. I could feel the pulsing of pure grace off at a distance—tried to bring it closer. Too late. Pain overwhelmed me, pushing everything else out. My thoughts dimmed into blessed nothingness.

  Chapter 25

  I GRADUALLY CAME back to my senses. It smelled like I was near Yasmin’s grotto and pool in Iran. Nothingness had felt much better than I’d expected, and I wasn’t that crazy about leaving it behind. How could I come back to such a dangerous world?

  Opening my eyes, I found myself lying face-up under a high canopy of deciduous trees. The air was warm and humid. My fingers brushed a soft fabric. I was lying on the padded cushion covering the flat rock next to her pool.

  I tried to roll onto one elbow, but my body felt impossibly heavy. Instead, I turned my head sideways.

  Griffin lay next to me on the same pad. Yasmin was kneeling over the unmoving angel and whispering in some foreign language. His body was naked, and thank God, his chest showed no sign of the horrific wound.