by Joey W. Hill
"What are you--"
"I'm going to try and get his heart back before the battle starts," Anna said. "When the call comes for your battle, you all do what you must do. But I can try this now."
David put his other hand on Mina's broad and muscular shoulder, ignoring her warning growl. "Anna. Jonah gave his heart to save you."
"Yes, he did. Because he knew you all would stop him. Lucifer can likely kill him." Her voice trembled as she glanced at the still form of the dark-winged angel. She could feel the energy pulsing off him like a solid wall, even at this distance. "Will kill him. Jonah knew that. But there's a bigger battle at stake. We both know it. He was willing to let the Dark Ones have him because he thinks he's no good to you all anymore. He thinks his soul is already lost. I can give that back to him."
She picked up Mina's discarded cloak to use as a saddle to protect her from the cut of the scales.
"How?"
"I don't know." She gave a half laugh that she realized came out sounding a little wild, because concern flickered over David's face. "I just know it has to be me, if anyone can do it. Mina knew it from the first."
"No." He repeated it. "Look at it out there. You're both mad. You won't get halfway across that field before their arrows cut you down."
Anna stopped, taking her foot from Mina's knee, and turned to face him. David should be dead. She remembered again, even more vividly now, how savagely he'd fought to keep her from the twenty or so Dark Ones that seized her out of the air. She'd underestimated him as a dangerous force and a fighter, probably because she'd seen him in the company of Lucifer and Jonah. But David had held on to her with one arm, fought with the other. What he lacked in experience had been compensated for with unflagging courage, determination and levelheadedness, where most would have lost their minds to terror. He would have been killed before relinquishing her, so she suspected a fortunate blow had knocked him senseless and dropped him into the sea. The Dark Ones had been more concerned about spiriting her away than making sure an angel was dead.
While there'd simply been too many, she knew he felt just as responsible for Jonah being on that rock as she did. For that reason she took the time now, despite the screaming impatience in her head to get to Jonah.
"David, I don't know if I can change anything, or gain you a valuable moment of distraction"--though her mind shied away from the thought she might give Lucifer and that horrible blade the opportune moment to cut Jonah down--"but Mina saw in her vision that I was the only one who could lead him back to himself. I thought that meant getting him to the shaman."
Her voice wavered. "To be honest, I was so relieved, getting him there, because I couldn't imagine what someone like me could do for someone as powerful as Jonah. But my heart tells me my task isn't done yet. And I love him so much . . ."
Despite herself, her eyes filled with tears, though she kept her back straight and voice firm, so he wouldn't think sentiment was driving her to foolishness. "If he doesn't leave this field alive, I won't be able to bear a world where he was struck down like this."
David held her gaze a long moment, and she saw a shimmer in the brown depths. Agreement. But he still didn't release her arm. She set her jaw, her control fraying.
"Jonah isn't evil. For a thousand years, he's protected us all," she snarled. "Now, damn it all, it's time to protect him. Fight for him."
The shrieking across the canyon swelled. Anna's gaze snapped in that direction, and David turned. The enemy shifted and the angels adjusted. Her heart nearly stopped beating, thinking her chance lost as the battle began. But apparently something else had happened, for the Dark Ones remained where they were.
"Christ, they're just posturing to wear on our nerves. Or Luc's temper."
With relief, she felt David's restraining hand leave her arm. Bending, he offered her a hand for a leg up as he cast her a wry glance. "I can tell you've been around Jonah. You sounded just like him there, for a second."
As she settled on the cloak, unsure how to respond to that, he turned his attention to Mina, whose great, serpentine blue eye blinked at him with her usual irascibleness. She showed him her teeth.
"A giant, temperamental predator," he observed. "Why am I not surprised? You couldn't shapeshift into a puppy? Something cuddly?"
Mina blew a stream of fire out of her nostrils. Anticipating her, he was already moving back, a graceful though shallow leap aided by his wings. The angels above him called out in alarm, which he quickly quelled with a waved hand.
"Good luck," he said. "Tell me your approach so I can communicate it to Luc."
"Mina and my own magic can protect me enough to get me there"--she hoped--"and then I'll send her back here. At that point, it's up to me and Jonah. You'll stay safe and well." She directed that to the transformed seawitch. "No stupid heroics."
Mina's brow lowered. "Pot calling kettle . . ." she hissed, the words almost a rumble.
"I mean it. Promise--"
A sudden cacophony of shouts, and Anna spun to see the Dark Ones surging to the cliff edge. Jonah had hefted his sword, bringing it up so the flashing fire in the sky turned it molten gold.
"No, it's too late. That's a signal--"
"Go." Anna urged Mina. The dragon-witch launched herself.
David cursed, but didn't have his angels intercept, despite the apprehension that filled him, watching them wing across the open space toward that terrifying army, the horrible nightmare of who was leading them.
As the dragon flew up through the sky, headed for the column of rock holding a damned angel, he sent a message to Lucifer, telling their temporary commander what the mermaid was doing. Then he sought the magic that was most readily accessible to him. David prayed.
ANNA sung as she'd never sung before, weaving protection around them, feeling Mina's magic joining hers, propelling them through the air on her powerful wings, the shielding moving with them as a blue mist.
Arrows shot by Dark Ones speared through the air, seeking a weak point to stop the dragon's approach, but bounced off the shield. Jonah did not move, his gaze merely turning to them. The sword was still upright in his hand, but Anna was relieved to see he'd not made a move to launch himself or the army. Their surge had apparently been just another antic to keep the angels on edge. Or something else. Why were they waiting?
As they got closer, she realized he didn't wear the battle skirt which bore the red color of the Goddess's seraphim, but sleek black breeches made of some type of slippery hide, supple and formfitting such that she had a sudden sick feeling it was something's skin. If he'd grumbled over a little snugness in the seat of his jeans, she couldn't imagine what Jonah in his normal state of mind would have been saying now.
The solid dark eyes which had been at first so unsettling and then so much more expressive than she'd expected were now twin chasms of hellfire, crimson and gold, flickering like living flame. His upper body was bare, so that she could see the angry red but sealed wound where he'd taken out his own heart. The same black and crimson rain had painted him, giving him the fearsome mien of a barbaric warrior. The ends of his wet hair, tight and sleek on his skull as those pants were on his body, were dripping the stained water onto his broad shoulders, creating a mottled pattern.
He'd always been breathtaking, and he still was, in a horrible, fascinating way that called to her loins even as her heart beat faster, the rabbit recognizing the trap even as she was drawn closer to it. She saw nothing in his face that acknowledged or recognized her.
Anna knew beings could become what she never expected them to be, a betrayer or an unexpected friend, but no matter what came next, what she'd known of him had been true. So she clung fiercely to that.
And in truth, this form was not far from his other self. Jonah was not the soft and fuzzy angel of human lore, the sweet cherub flitting over the clouds, the feminine power come to lay a brow on the laboring woman's head. He was the warrior angel, the bringer of justice. The line between that and bringer of death and chaos had a
lways been so close to his foot, just a step away. She knew what side of that line he belonged on, but suspected he no longer could see where the line was drawn.
At some point, he'd stopped wiping away the blood that kept hiding it from him, and no one else did it for him. The danger of becoming such a strong leader. Atlas did such a good job holding up the world, eventually no one believed he needed any help doing it.
She wondered if the journey to the Schism had been to arm and prepare her for this moment, even before Jonah had gone to the shaman. She didn't know what had transpired there, but she remembered what Gabe's daughter-in-law had said to her when Anna had gone back into the general store to talk to Pat.
It's so hard for them to come back to what seems like the trivia of daily life, to find meaning again after that dark place of blood and death. Those images are so strong and powerful and real. They have to find the reality in the quieter, gentler things they were defending. But the longer they're in that dark place, the harder it is to do that . . .
While it might be ludicrous to imagine Jonah going to a veteran's support meeting, she didn't see any difference between five years and a thousand years immersed in such a life of bloodshed and horror. How could the soul embrace light after seeing the dark side hiding just behind it?
That large, powerful hand gripping the sword had cupped her in his palm when she was as easy to harm as a butterfly. He'd kissed her with enough passion to consume her in flame. What she'd said to David about her protecting him might seem absurd, but somehow she knew protection in this case had nothing to do with strength or battle skill.
Anna gasped, her hold on Mina's neck broken as they slammed into a wave of collective power, the Dark Ones' energy force projected forward to keep them from their objective. She scrabbled for a purchase on the neck scales, cutting her hands as Mina righted herself from the abrupt flip with a growl of pain and rage.
Anna renewed her efforts, increasing the strength of her voice, singing without words, just pure, clear notes. She heard Mina's throaty roar as well, the dragon's voice sounding odd over the words of the spell as a stream of flame shot from their shielding and out over the cliff edge, driving the Dark Ones back and disrupting their attempt enough that Mina was able to bank and wheel toward the spear of rock.
The first line snarled, regrouping, fire erupting in skeletal fingers, ready to be launched. Three hurled it toward them, only to have the flame hit Mina's own, launched from her nostrils. It exploded back upon them, causing confusion in their immediate ranks.
"Great Lady, Mina, how did you--"
"No time. Keep singing." The dragon roared it, and Anna obeyed as she saw the Dark Ones renew their efforts, felt her friend's dragon body tremble beneath her.
A quick glance behind her showed the angels were anticipating this drawing to a head. Their ranks had closed, flanks splitting off, positioning. They'd held back to see what would occur, but were probably quickly realizing that her and Mina's actions might spur things into battle whether or not Jonah gave whatever signal the Dark Ones were hoping for him to make.
Given the nature of Dark Ones, she was again surprised that hadn't yet happened. It should have happened. She realized a great deal of activity was going on around the sealed sphere with the heart. With desperate hope, she wondered if they'd figured out enough to hold his movements, but not enough yet to direct him into battle. Which suggested Lucifer's intuition, to hold back on taking the offense, might be wise. But their outcry when Jonah raised the sword said they were figuring it out. Any moment now, they could have full command of his actions, not just the ability to hold him passive. If Jonah hadn't gotten her free, sent her ahead with the warning that summoned the angels, they would have had much more time to prepare.
"Mina!"
Mina's wings flapped erratically as several of the arrows got through and one lodged under her front leg, in the vulnerable, unscaled skin. She dropped several yards and then recovered, careening down toward the rock, harrowingly off center so it appeared as if they might fly into the center of the teeming mass of Dark Ones. Blood came from one of her nostrils, and Anna could feel her great dragon's heart laboring like a sledgehammer against the ribs beneath her legs.
"Going to have to drop you next to him now . . . Will just have to tip you. They're eroding my protection . . . Be ready."
"Mina, you fly clear and don't worry about me further, you hear me? You've done what you can."
"Now," Mina rasped, and arced sharply to the inside, taking a spiraling dive down toward Jonah's position, a low swoop that put her close to the edge. Anna sprang from her back into space and Mina gave her an inadvertent boost with her wing, knocking into her as Jonah's attention turned and the sword came swinging around. Mina shrieked and surged forward, blocking Anna as she fell on the narrow platform and slid over the edge.
Anna cried out as the sword connected with the seawitch, a glittering blow that sheared off the tip of Mina's wing and raked her breast and back haunch, severing a major artery, if the spray of blood across them both was any indication. But then the dragon was fully turned, winging drunkenly out of range, back toward the angels.
As Anna clung to the edge of the rock, she had to brace herself. The wind was rising, pulling at her as it started to vortex around the spear of stone on which she now found herself. The sky had darkened even further, as if it were night. On top of that all of the Dark Ones were still screeching, of course. The angels were pounding on drums, the rhythmic, dangerous reverberation a counterpoint to the enemy's discordant cacophony. All of it was pounding inside Anna's heart, threatening to make it explode with fear as she recognized what she'd been dropped into the middle of.
How much longer would the stalemate go on? Was it crazy of her to think that Lucifer was giving her as much time as he could, to see if she could make a difference? However, unlike her own people, or humans, she didn't have to convince the host at her back that visions, prophecies and even irresistible gut compulsions could be vital to an outcome in a situation like this.
Anna glanced down beneath her scrambling feet. While open air would have been terrifying, it couldn't compare to the winged Dark Ones inhabiting the flooded chasm, ready to finish off any angel that fell. Even now several were speeding upward toward her location, likely thinking to pluck her off the side, dash her against the rocks.
During the hours they'd held her, she'd never been so afraid in her life. Their malevolence had been like the oppressive sides of a coffin, no escape from the inevitability of her fate. At times, she was sure she was going to go mad. If she hadn't been distracted by her argument with David, she wasn't sure she'd have had the courage to fly back toward them. But she was here for Jonah. He needed her.
As Jonah turned to look down at her, the thought steadied her, despite his fearsome mien. She couldn't think about what might be coming up beneath her, that she might be seconds away from hurtling through the sky. She struggled to get her elbows up, feeling his gaze like flame smoldering its way down her spine as she succeeded, dug into the flat surface of rock and somehow pulled herself up and forward, using her toes in the crevices on the steep sides. He wasn't helping, but then again, he wasn't stepping on her hands, either.
She could be thankful for small favors even as it wrenched her heart to remember his smallest acts of protection toward her, like lifting her into the pickup truck or making sure she had a soft bed in the cellar. Spreading out wings to give her a moment's shade.
The Dark Ones weren't firing arrows at her anymore, another boon. Probably because they didn't want to hit him. Also, that spiraling wind was rising, competing with the animal shrieking of the skeletal creatures.
She'd wondered if it would make more sense to transform into the pixie, a smaller, lighter target, quicker. Goddess knew, the wings would have been useful about now. But somehow she knew she would command Jonah's attention more readily as a woman proportionate to his size, who could meet him eye to eye, body to body. The Dark Ones couldn't change th
at he was male, and never had she known him not to be overwhelmingly virile in that regard. Perhaps pure and primitive physical instincts could offset or at least crack the most complex magics or emotional barriers. Plus, this wind would have buffeted her about like a leaf.
Wriggling up, she rolled to a sitting position to look up, up and up the body of a possessed, deadly angel. Holy Goddess, she'd forgotten how tall he was. Or perhaps he'd never looked quite so intimidating to her.
"Jonah." She made it to one knee. The wind shrieked, making her notice it had actually formed a funnel around the perimeter of the ledge as she'd rolled onto it. When her hand passed just over the edge, she realized they were in the still eye of a tornado and those Dark Ones that had speared up from below were being held back. Still harrowingly close, roaring their threat of death and pain at her, but on the other side of that wall of wind. Mina was still all right, then, for it felt like her magic. Then again, the stubborn witch might be using her last reserves to buy Anna time. The wound he'd inflicted on Mina had looked bad, a sword strike backed by angel fire.
"Jonah," she repeated.
He jerked at the sound of her voice. When she dared a glance at the Dark One army on the ledge fifty yards away, her heart faltered at the display of rage and dripping fangs.
"Kill her. Kill her." The strident mantra was being taken up and down the line. Their anticipation and bloodlust had an element of . . . glee.
Oh, Great Goddess. The angels hadn't fallen into their trap of instigating Jonah to fight, so she was Plan B. If he killed her before all the assembled, it would confirm where his loyalties now lay and the bloodlust would take him. Her blood would be the catalyst for the massacre they craved.
That paralyzed her, until she made herself think again what was at stake. If evil won this battle, there would be a whole world of humans to sweep through and claim. Matt and Maggie, Gabe and his family. The Dark Ones would take over their hearts and souls, banishing any good in them, destroying their souls so the Goddess would be alone in the universe . . . No angels, nothingness.
