Against the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  “What?”

  “Scratch that,” I muttered. “I’ll explain later. Give me the urn or you’ll stay home tonight.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Don’t test my patience, Sabree.” In tune with my subdued aura, the sword folded into its pommel until the lone opal rolled on my palm. My mind flashbacked to another time when Sabree hid something in the wine cellar. One hand slapped the other. “Selfie high five.”

  My speed engaged, or better yet, JLS, I appeared in front of the wine chiller. The secret location glared me in the face. Someone had haphazardly rearranged the bottles of Bordeaux. I reached inside for the urn and pulled it out.

  With little time to waste, my eyes squeezed shut as memories converged on the portal: on Julia’s home, one of Earth’s alternate dimensions. Again, Sabree’s voice echoed no. Unlike before, this time after traveling through the portal and charging out of the tear between universes, Sabree had hitched a ride, piggybacking behind my wings. We rematerialized into solid form.

  “You idiot!” The stone leapt from my pocket into my hand and vibrated. Both of us stared at the fiery opal, waiting for it to pull a transformer. With me at ease, the opal remained a stone. “This beauty has certainly earned its name,” I said. “Spitfire.”

  “Well, best you rename it because it’s no longer a mister’s sword.” Sabree patted his arms and legs, especially the exposed one. “Whew. All limbs accounted for.” Then he glared at me, his turquoise eyes as radiant as Spitfire’s glow. “I didn’t throw up. Where are we? Why’d you bring my urn here? Are you trying to get rid of me? I might perish without it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” The stone pocketed, I cradled the urn against my abdomen when Sabree tried to take it. “Listen to me. While you and these ashes occupy the same dimension, it may be too crowded for both. Might be the reasons the headaches and the none of the Fallen, except me, can detect you.” I palm-slapped the side of my skull. “Did any of that make sense?”

  “Nope. What is inside that head of yours?”

  “It’s where my demons hide.”

  “Demons and then some.” The two turquoise orbs brightened. Sabree’s forehead furrowed. “You may be right. Let’s do this.”

  With little time to waste, we marched to the back of the house and stopped in front of a single gravesite marked by a wooden cross, the one I dug for Julia. Sparkling in the moonlight, a star-shaped locket attached to a silver chain hung from the cross. My gift to Ariane on her eighteenth birthday. Neither one of us knew at the time that we were only three years old. She must have put it there, but how or when?

  Panicked thoughts squeezed my throat. Paralyzed my thoughts. After a few vigorous breaths, I stole a glance at Sabree. “What about here? Seems appropriate. Don’t think Mum will mind.” I knelt on my haunches and dug a shallow hole to the left of the cross. Above me, Sabree kept watch. “Keep an eye out, especially for the Malakhim.” In truth, the chance that Athorsis might show his ugly head minus his body worried me more. Favored over fretting, I chuckled at the gruesome thought.

  “I don’t see the comedy in this situation. What about Athorsis?”

  “Shush! Just saying his name might deliver him from the dead.” The urn slipped from my fingers into the hole. I swished dirt over it as though burying a treasured bone. “We have another battle to attend. Let’s hope this does the trick.” Did Sabree really care? About losing the headaches, aye, but it was common knowledge that he abused his enhanced stealth mode.

  “Shall we say some words—a eulogy?”

  Laughter spilled from my gut when I stood up to dust the black soil off my jeans. “Adieu, Sabree’s ashes, adieu. We knew him well.”

  Sabree slapped me on the back and joined in the laughter. “Forgot what it felt like, laughing that is. For today, we will march into battle and shed tears.”

  “Your optimism scares me.” We hugged each other tight as our bodies dematerialized without the amulet and reappeared before the wine closet still embraced. No JLS speed this time to make Sabree throw up on my boots. “How’s that for an exit stage left?” I said, followed by a wink. “In case you haven’t noticed, this quick exit mode minus the amulet lost us little time. Pretty cool if I may say so myself.”

  “You may,” Sabree said, his face contorting in wonderment. “Wait! No headache.” His brows rose beneath his bangs.

  “Good news, but you can unhug me now.” In response, I bowed when Sabree let go. “You’re welcome. But we have one more test before the battle. Let’s see if the others can detect you.”

  “Who cares, you got rid of my headache.”

  “I care.” My tone came out as a low rumble. Maybe, he preferred the idea of no one sensing his presence, but I sure as hell did not. Our lives depended on his link. “I can still sense you, so there.”

  Ariane walked in on us. “Where’d you guys go? One second, I sensed you,” she said, raising her brows at me, “and then nothing. A second later—and bam—I did. Leave the wine at home, Sabree.” She closed the open wine chiller. “Glad I’m not going, I feel out of sorts.”

  Paralyzing fear, worse than the one experienced at the gravesite, struck my innards. Spitfire vibrated, ready to do battle. My eyes blinked disbelief when I glanced again at my sister, the star locket dangling around her neck. So, who placed the necklace on our mother’s grave? Shaking off the dreads, I asked, “Can you detect him?” Although, I didn’t really have to, my hand flicked in Sabree’s direction. My patience had worn thin.

  “Don’t be silly, you know none of us can. Except how he toys with my emotions.” Ariane held her breath and stared at him. “You turn me on dressed in black, especially your long duster. Nope, can’t feel his presence.”

  The whispered f-bomb burned my sister’s ears. Plan C would have to wait until after we fought and defeated the Malakhim. It seemed a good idea, at least for now, to observe how plans A and B would affect the peaceful rift of the universe. “Best get a move on. The others must be restless. Ready?” As expected, only half a minute had passed since the attack on the Caderen. For me, hours had slipped by.

  Sabree stepped up to embrace Ariane while leaning to one side to avoid her belly. “Be safe and mind the fort. We’ll be back before you know it.” He planted a kiss on her lips.

  Before the two exchanged another, I leaned into their personal space. She giggled when Sabree stole another kiss.

  A subtle shove knocked Sabree aside. I held my sister close and kissed her forehead. “Love you, Sis,” My whispers choked on the tightness in my throat. “Take care of you two. Hide in the basement.” Together, we shifted our embrace away from Sabree’s line of sight as I placed the amulet in her hand. “Be careful putting it on. Don’t forget to read the instruction manual.” I winked.

  She squeezed it. “But…”

  “No buts.”

  Ariane hugged me again.

  31

  KICK SOME MALAKHIM BUTT

  A s soon as Abyss recovered from the shock of losing more than half her clan, she dressed into battle gear. I gave her a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up and then sped JLS style to the Caderen complex, making sure to arrive before the rest. Seconds later, four misters, Sabree, Abyss, Gibyss, and Serine, materialized next to the Caderen marker inlayed in front of the mound. Euriel touched down at my side.

  Before we charged the elevator, Sabree passed Colton tablets to the group, each teammate overdosing on a handful. We brought extra for Cayiel and surviving clan members. Everyone had armed themselves with crossbows, the arrows injected with the infamous anti-vamp venom. Ariane guaranteed the drug would work on the Malakhim in their corporeal form as it did with the Fallen. Spitfire and White Ghost found a spot in my jacket pocket.

  One by one, I mind linked with each warrior. Gibyss and Euriel showed promise; whereas, the others came off as inept in my opinion. My gaze settled on Abyss. Her tight smile confirmed she had survived the initial attack on the Caderen.

  The assault hit her worse than it did
Sabree, but then again, a rebel at heart, he withstood extreme obstacles better than most. However, if formally trained for hundreds of years, most of us doubted Sabree would ever look or act the part of a soldier. Too much wispy blond hair. A haphazard salute feigned his readiness. “All set, Fang? You destroyed my couch. Let’s hope you can do some damage here.”

  Then I addressed the rest. “We will succeed if we maintain our link.” Each one raised their crossbow in salute. Sabree and Euriel mirrored my smile. “Let’s kick some Malakhim butt,” we chanted together.

  The whooping continued as I punched the marker to open the cloaked elevator. We crowded inside. The doors closed and after descending to the main level, they swished open. Together, the six of us burst into the hallway.

  As orchestrated several times in the townhouse, we separated into two groups, each one holding fast to the telepathic link. Distractions of any kind meant certain death. Abyss, Euriel, and Gibyss teamed up to secure the records room. The special link shared with Gibyss would enable me to witness the scene through his eyes while Sabree, Serine, and I headed for the command center to rescue survivors.

  Appointed team leader, Gibyss led his group to the records room and laboratories. The Caderen had secured most of their research and historical scrolls prior to the anticipated attack. The records had to be preserved at all cost. Along the way, he came across countless mounds of dust belonging to unfortunate clan members who had met their end. The link between us remained open as Gibyss forged on with his team. From his ears, we heard Abyss’s profanity directed at the Malakhim. Her grief had switched to wrath.

  A figure shimmered in the dim corridor ahead. Gibyss held up a hand and silently commanded everyone to halt. A Malakhim soldier stood guard outside the records room. “Stay here,” he spoke telepathically to his team. “Wait for my signal.” He edged along the wall while permitting me to see through his eyes. Gibyss stared unblinking as he approached the lanky female. It had been a long time since he had seen a Malakhim with wings. Not so for me.

  She shrieked a warning when he got too close. I reacted before Gibyss. White-hot energy surged through every cell of my body. The destructive force converged into an explosive cannonball and funneled from my mind into Gibyss’s. The blast shot from his eyes, aimed at the Malakhim guard. A flaming ball combusted where she once stood. Gibyss leaned on the wall to stop himself from dropping to his knees. His gaze focused on the mound of dust as he waved the others onward. “Brian’s work. Not mine. Amazing.”

  “Thank you.”

  In front of the records room, Gibyss paused to steal a sidelong glance at the team. “It’s up to us to make a stand against the Malakhim. The worldly resources of our Fallen society are at stake. Ready?” He acknowledged their nods and burst through the door.

  Inside, his shoulders relaxed without lowering the crossbow. He aimed and shot the single Malakhim before he detected their entry. The male swayed from the venom. His wings folded around his body to heal himself. Euriel and Abyss fired together to pump more venom into him. He crumpled to the floor.

  My voice filled their heads. “Sis was right, Eric’s venom does work on the Malak—” The link between us shattered.

  3 3 3

  Taking the lead, I barged into the command center and skidded to a halt. “Hold up,” I mind-whispered to Sabree and Serine as they scrambled in behind me. Unlike Gibyss and the others, our team charged directly into a swarm of Malakhim. Ten in all. Half of them herded Cayiel and the elders toward an open portal. The Malakhim army must have rallied here after they destroyed most of the Caderen. Surprise could still be to our advantage, anticipating the Malakhim never expected one of the anti-beings to show up in the clan’s defense.

  Aware of our infiltration, the leader ordered four soldiers to secure the record’s room. Cayiel and the elders scurried behind a console. To counteract the surprise attack, preferring the new odds, I ordered Serine to warn Gibyss and motioned Sabree to advance on the few Malakhim who detained the Caderen elders. “Avoid the portal, Sabree.” Single-handedly, I hesitated before advancing on the leader and his two subordinates.

  My gift of speed entwined magic no one else could detect until too late. Time to wrap up this little foray. Mobilized into high-gear, everyone in the room crawled to a stop as I zipped around the room, my orbits accelerating with each revolution. I broke out of orbit and charged the Malakhim near the portal, unarming them. Their weapons flew into the portal on my speed by. Hyperdrive velocity bolted me across the room to the three Malakhim clustered together. A shield of some sort prevented me from securing their weapons. I loaded my crossbow, jolted to a halt, and almost skidded across the room, my brakes unrehearsed.

  All the while speeding like a rocket, I continued to see through Gibyss’s eyes and almost yelled inside his mind when his team whirled around to fire on Serine as she misted into view behind them.

  “Wait!” she cried. “More Malakhim are on the way.” She faced the door, crossbow at the ready.

  The doors blew out of their encasements. One landed on top of Serine, knocking her unconscious, while the other shot across the room. Malakhim rushed inside, their weapons aimed at my comrades. Destructive telepathic thoughts from the four invaded Gibyss’s mind as well as those of Abyss and Euriel, filling them with images of devastation. The telepathic migraine crushed Gibyss’s spirit. Before he collapsed, one name slipped from his lips. “Brian,” he whimpered.

  If seven Malakhim had charged the record’s room instead of four, my team might have been mind-blasted into a dust storm. Migraines were the worst this four could inflict. Time to fight this battle the old-fashioned way. My orbits decelerated, returning to where I had originated before leaping into hyperdrive. Popped a few tabs and yelled, “Close the portal! You’re done here.” A flick of my hand spurred Spitfire into my grasp. Behind me, Sabree aimed his crossbow high. He never got a chance to shoot. His yelp announced defeat when the bow flew out of his hands and spun across the room.

  The leader, the same Malakhim who escaped my wrath days ago, harnessed the gift of telekinesis. He aimed his weapon at Sabree before he could escape into a fine mist. The electrified spear pierced his sternum.

  Sabree gasped. Stunned, he locked eyes with me for a second and wobbled. “Sorry, Brian. I’m done here. Perform your magic.”

  Connected via our blood-tie, the searing pain in Sabree’s chest radiated outward until his extremities went numb. Twinkling stars centrifuged inside his skull. His consciousness collapsed into the dark veil of oblivion. I released our connection to unclutter my mind and sped over to examine my injured friend. He lay still except for the residual electric spray that convulsed throughout his body. No longer an army of two, Sabree—my weakest link—had been eliminated in the first round. Let the Malakhim leader believe the odds were no longer in my favor.

  The war had begun. “Time to die, asshole!” My body blurred from view as it leapt forward, waving Spitfire overhead. The laser-sharp blade swooped down and sliced into the Malakhim who ran in front of the leader.

  The victim dropped his weapon. Shock filled his wide-set gaze until one eye twitched at first and then sank lower than the other. An angry streak of red oozed. The right half of his head slithered down the other half, paused at the curve of his shoulder, and slid down his arm. The slab hit the floor with a dull plop. Teetering, the shock of the fatal injury unregistered until now, the rest of his body finally collapsed.

  I shot an astonished glance at the sword turned-light-saber and lost focus on the leader who stepped back, his eyes darkened. A telekinetic blast shot me across the room. Spitfire landed at my feet and immediately flew into my hand.

  A roar bellowed from within. My speed on overdrive, I leapt to my feet and vibrated in place until those within the room moved as if frozen in time. Whirling in place cost me big time. I choked on a war cry when an arrow pierced my chest. The room sprang to life again as the metal barb hooked into my right lung and pumped the organ with electrical charges. The sli
ghtest tug racked my entire body, nearly sending me into oblivion if not for superior immortality, the Colton tabs, and the telepathic hold on my team.

  The leader hid behind the remaining subordinate as he tugged the coil connected to the harpoon, reeling his catch closer. He yelled, “My weapon is shielded so no other can wield it.”

  Unable to pull out the barb, the repeated tugs stole my breath. Made me wheeze. Keep it up, you bastard. Pull me in. Closer. Closer. The prospect of eventual triumph overcame the shocks. As long as the leader believed he’d be able destroy me, I might retain the element of surprise.

  He yanked the coil again, this time pulling me within striking range. My anguished cries stifled, the telepathic connection with Gibyss faltered. Blatant refusal to let the leader or Gibyss detect my agony weakened the fragile link. I held on as sparks burned my ribs. Despite each tug on the harpoon, I clung to consciousness. Barely. A final tug severed all control. Screams of anguish filled the room. The hand wielding Spitfire swung upward and swept down on the subordinate. The top half of his body toppled over to expose the leader.

  “Touché.” The battle not yet won, two distant cries for help, one closer and louder than the other, beckoned my attention. The pleas tore my focus away from the leader. Gibyss’s cry launched a reserved discharge buried deep within my core. Absolute focus launched a self-destruct beam, discharging a lethal blow at the Malakhim who attacked Gibyss and his team. All four disintegrated into dust. Despite heroic efforts, the harpoon clinging to my lung pulled me back into the searing volcano.

  The second cry for help went unheard.

  Unable to refuel on tablets, I drew on reserved strength within me. One swoop and Spitfire sliced the harpoon attached to my lung. The electrical current ceased. My steadfast glare met the lone Malakhim’s soulless eyes. Lips parted in a twisted smile, I growled, “Seems I saved the best for last. What’s your name?” An identity to go along with the execution seemed appropriate.