Sacrifice (The Venus Chronicles #1)

Chapter 36

Thirty-Six

Michaels touched down silently on the roof opposite his church and folded in his wings. He scanned the area. In the fading pink light of dawn, several silhouettes could be made out guarding the building. The figures were dressed in black robes and held glowing blades with an unnerving confidence. Lirathil , the Fae’s warrior class.

So, this was the Dark Fae’s objective — his church. Now that he saw them, it was obvious what they were doing there. They had come to steal the dybbuk. Crate after crate was being carried from his crypt and out into the violet glow emanating from the tree-lined edges of his cleared graveyard. They had established a portal to who knows where. Micheals’ heart thumped in his chest.

Skovanka had harnessed the power of a solar flare to breach his security spells. Was that the weapon Lucien had revealed to them? Why would Lucien want the Dark Fae to take the demonic spirits they’d reaped together over centuries? Did he plan to join them? Did he imagine they could set him free?

Questions and confusion battled within his mind as Michaels scanned the quintessence for Lucien, pondering whether he was inside. His energy was still detectable at the museum. Michaels knew that Lucien could not enter, security spells or not. The church was consecrated ground, and Lucien couldn’t approach within two hundred yards. He’d been sure of that, but now what Michaels believed he knew was being tested

He’s given the Dark Fae a weapon, but why?

Unfurling his wings, Michaels stepped off the roof and fell silently to the ground.

The first Lirathil stood just inside the graveyard gate, his face obscured by an ornate black mask. He watched the progress of his companions. Michaels laid a hand on his shoulder from behind and whispered into his ear. “ Somnum .”

The Lirathil’s knees buckled, and Michaels swept him aside.

The second guard was more alert and squinted into the shadows from which Michaels approached. Michaels drew upon the quintessence to examine the sword in the guard’s grip and dissolved the bonds of the alloys in its finely wrought steel, returning them to their raw state. It flopped to one side and a fae guard yelped.

Michaels doubled his pace to reach him, and the guard pulled a dagger from a scabbard on his belt. Embossed runes caught in the light as he played it hand to hand, eying Micheals as he emerged.

“Impressive,” Michaels said in his low growl. The guard smirked. “You were obviously warned you that fae steel won’t work on a celestial.” He drew a flaming sword from thin air. “I prefer a good ethereal sword myself.”

The Lirathil’s grin faded, and Michaels swung it in one wide arc to fell the fae where he stood.

Michaels pushed forward.

There were two more, returning from the portal now empty-handed, still unaware that Michaels had returned. He stretched his wings wide to block the entrance to his home and channeled the quintessence into his aura to stop them in their tracks.

Dazzlingly bright, he expanded the sphere of light in which he stood to include them. The Dark Fae consciousnesses writhed beneath his touch, but they did not let him in. “You dare to desecrate the sanctuary of a celestial?” he boomed.

“Your time is at an end, Angel,” one Lirathil spat, the words gasped from his constricted throat under Michaels’ grip. “The mundane will feel the wrath of my master. We will claim what is rightfully ours.”

“Your master? Skovanka?” Michaels squeezed at the Fae’s consciousness. His voice was in their minds, but the pain was real enough.

They squirmed and clutched at their heads. “Killing us won’t help you. The Lirathil are many, and you are one.”

“Bring back my dybbuk,” Michaels commanded, but the fae only laughed.

Michaels hadn’t really expected them to comply. He swung his sword and sliced them clean in two. Shouts came from within his church. His aura had alerted them to his arrival. There was no holding back a battle now.