Chapter 35 – Ithuriel
T hese contraptions that humans call cars are death cages on four wheels. And the way they drive them? As if they’re not half a second away from prematurely ending their fragile mortal existence.
“I can hear your teeth grinding back there, angel,” the demon Aim speaks from behind the wheel. “I’m not even going above the speed limit here.”
Sariel, occupying the front passenger seat with his arm hanging out the open window, turns back to laugh at me. Sitting beside me in the back, Jessica glares at the boys before leaning against me.
“Ignore them. They’re not the ones in a car for the first time ever.”
I kiss the top of our human’s head and wink at Sariel, who’s still observing us. His lips spread into a wide grin at the sight of my insouciance.
“Are we there yet?” Jessica sighs impatiently after another five minutes. “I hate being in the back, it always makes me nauseous.”
“You should’ve told me that, poppet,” Sar growls.
“Either way, we’re there in a minute,” Aim interjects. “Try not to puke on Neph’s upholstery or he’ll castrate us.”
Snorting, I embrace Jess and caress her arm with long, soothing sweeps. She can throw up wherever she wants to. I’ll hold her hair.
Despite being a nefarious, ancient demon, Aim was speaking the truth and the commercial docks come into view not long after. We park a distance away from the warehouse we stalked, next to the other two death traps that brought our little cadre to the location.
Mike, Kevin, and Lana lean against the other car, while Nephithar stands next to his unsafe-looking, obscenely loud two-wheeled vehicle with his arms crossed. He’s wearing leather trousers and a tight black cotton shirt, looking much like Sariel, who is back to his leather bottoms and vest. They both have charcoal black hair and tanned skin stretched over defined muscle, though the demon is bigger and burlier.
The rest of our entourage is wearing leather armor as well, though only Lana’s is ornate in any way, decorated as it is by glowing gems. I squint at her. She feels much more like an archdemon again and I guess they are to blame, burning with hellfire as they are.
I am the only one in plate armor and as the Mediterranean late-spring sun reflects off the metal, I wish I had brought something lighter with me. When I think about commissioning something appropriate from Heaven’s armorsmiths, I remember I will no longer be welcome to do so. My heart sinks to the bottom of my plated boots.
Sariel takes my gloved hand into his, capturing my attention. “What has you so pensive?” he asks. “Strategizing our approach?”
I clear my throat. If only clearing my heart of its heaviness would be as simple. “I was thinking of acquiring a set of leather armor.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” He grins at me, his teeth looking especially white in the sun. Even his black eyes seem brighter in this light. “I’ll get you as many as you want as soon as we get home.”
My mouth automatically returns his smile. “Alright,” I say. With another squeeze of my hand, Sariel turns to approach the rest of our group. I may not be able to clear the heaviness from my heart on my own, but Sariel and Jessica seem to be more than successful at doing so.
“Divide and conquer?” Sariel asks Aim and Nephithar once we’re all within hearing distance.
The red-eyed demon nods. “I’ll go with my son,” he says, unnecessarily. “We’ll enter from the south side.”
“Kevin and I will join you,” Lana adds decisively.
“That leaves us four approaching from the North,” Aim finishes the short planning conversation. “Remember, we need at least one of them alive, but we should minimize the casualties anyway, for the Council’s sake.”
I reel back. “We will not kill any humans!” I’m here to prevent a slaughter, not execute it.
“These fuckers are evil, Itha,” Sariel growls. “I’m not saying we’ll be decapitating unarmed Cambions, but if one of them has a gun aimed Jess’ way, I’m ending them.”
I close my eyes and pray for calm. I did not consider the humans being a threat, but, naturally, he did. They managed to kill Armaros last year, after all.
“Do you want to stay behind?” our human asks quietly. I’m taken aback at her consideration but still shake my head.
“No,” I say, my voice allowing no argument. I will not let them head into danger without me to protect them. Waiting here will not appease my conscience.
“Let’s get going then,” the Cambion, Kevin, speaks up for the first time. “I want to get Naamah back to Hell, where it’s safe.”
Lana bends over laughing and slaps her thighs. “The things impending fatherhood makes you say,” she squeaks, gasping for air.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t want to get back to your hot Cheeto of a husband, Lana,” Jessica teases next.
“Are we quite done fooling around?” Nephithar grumbles. “I want to get my son out of here and go home to my wife too.”
Aim shakes his head. “The things love does to people, it’s not to be believed.”
∞∞∞
As we stalk through the dimly lit warehouse, we notice signs of recent activity everywhere; scattered papers, overturned furniture, even some ominous drops of blood. No Cambions to capture, though. Either they’re on the other side of the building or we have indeed come too late.
Just then, loud cracks sound from nearby. We stop and look at each other.
“Gunfire,” Aim says.
“Should we go to them?” I ask a moment before silence reigns again.
Sariel shakes his head. “They can take care of themselves. Let’s go.”
Dust motes dance in the air as we turn a corner made by shipping containers, Sariel and Aim taking the lead, Jessica in the middle, and me last, defending them from behind. When they come to a sudden stop, I know something isn’t right.
I realize the reason for the standstill when I lay my eyes on Andras, a smirk on his face as he stands on a shipping container, clearly ready and waiting for us.
“All alone, Andras?” Aim asks casually, his hands free of weapons.
The demon lord above us, his leathery wings out, the claw-like hooks at their tips twitching, merely lifts one arm. As he does, his Cambion underlings appear from the shadows, guns in hand and menacing expressions on their faces.
“Too much of a pussy to face us yourself?” Sariel asks Andras in his signature drawl. “You throw mortal idiots with toys at us instead?”
“Show them what we do with infidels,” Andras tells his underlings in French. The clicking of their weapons echoes in the cavernous structure. I push Jessica behind me, calling out and spreading my wings to shield her more fragile body.
“Motherfuck!” Sariel yells as gunshots fill the air. Bullets ping off the shipping containers around us and I begin to worry some might ricochet into our Nephilim, so I wrap myself around her, holding her head to my chest. For a moment, I let the memory of me saving her from that demon during our first day in Hell suffuse my thoughts. She was a stranger then and now she is my heart.
Aim’s stifled gasp follows a gust of wind. I lift my head in time to see him fly past as if shot out from a cannon, then crash into the wall on the far side. He slumps down, immobile. That was Andras’ power, picking off the greatest threat from afar.
“Itha,” Jess mumbles into my chest. I let her lift her head up. “I’ll hide behind a container, go help Sariel.”
When I reluctantly look behind me, I see Sariel incapacitating the remaining Cambions and breaking their weapons while dodging Andras’ projectiles of wind, water, and fire. Thankfully, it’s not hellfire, but it only takes one misstep for him to be thrown out of the battlefield like Aim was.
I look back at my human. “Do not come out until Nephithar and the rest join us.” When she nods hastily, I gently take hold of her shoulders and give her a shake. “I mean it. If we falter, run to our vehicles.”
“I will. Promise.”
After pushing her around the corner, I join the other piece of me in battle. The handful of Cambions are dispatched easily enough. I take a glancing blow to the neck, just above the protection of my armor, but the few drops of blood are nothing compared to the blooms of silver on Sariel’s exposed body. Every few seconds, a bullet is expelled from his flesh, hitting the ground with a plinking sound.
Sariel throws a human in Jessica’s direction and I already take half a step toward them when a male grunt sounds out and combat boots peek through the corner, the thug obviously incapacitated and belly up.
I share a grin with the fallen angel.
“That’s our girl,” he says.
Two more of Andras’ minions charge in, these equipped with knives. I break the arms of the first, leaving him in a heap on the ground, the other joining him after Sariel chokes him unconscious.
The demon lord finally descends, two vicious-looking sickles in hand.
“Thank you for taking out the trash,” he says with a sneer, rotating his wrists so the half-moon weapons cut through the air with a whistling sound.
“We’ve only just begun,” I assure him as I palm my greatsword, falling into a combat-ready stance.
Shadows dance across the rusted beams as Andras lunges, his twin sickles hissing through the air. I meet him head-on, my sword clashing against both weapons at once, the impact sending sparks flying.
“Still the Council’s loyal hound?” Andras mocks, teeth flashing behind our blades.
“Better a hound than a traitor,” I respond, pushing the demon back.
I see Sariel circling us from the periphery of my vision, his battle axe spinning in his grip, his dark grin so at odds with the tension crackling in the air. He lunges, the double blades of his weapon flashing toward Andras’ ribs. The demon pivots, catching the blade with one sickle, the other slicing through Sariel’s leather vest. Alarmed, I take a step back to assess the damage but find no blood. When I look back at the demon, I see he noted my concern with a raised brow.
“I liked this vest,” Sariel growls, eyeing the hole in the garment.
“Come now, Fallen,” Andras laughs, eyes glinting. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
“I’ll enjoy it more when you’re bleeding at my feet, traitor.”
For a moment we work in tandem, keeping Andras at bay, though he moves like liquid shadow, anticipating our strikes, twisting between them like it’s merely a game.
Suddenly, he stops playing and one of his weapons strikes out, locking my greatsword and giving him free reign to slash the other across my ribs. As the stinging pain registers, Andras wastes no time to kick Sariel in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. A moment later he’s bringing me down as well, a hand wrapped around my throat.
“Too soft,” he murmurs, increasing pressure.
Jessica’s sobs register, as does the pounding of her footsteps coming closer. I want to yell at her to stay back like she promised, but the vile creature above me doesn’t allow me the leeway to speak.
The demon grins and disappears. A moment later, Jessica’s scream is heard from above, from atop the same shipping container Andras manipulated the fight from. In a fluid motion, he drags her to a catwalk, holding her over it with one arm as she kicks and struggles.
I try to lurch up, but a coughing fit causes me to expel blood. The demon’s weapon must have punctured my lungs. Sariel is already on his feet though, staring at the scene above, hand clenched at his side, his axe trembling in the other.
“Now, Fallen…” Andras’ smirk sharpens as Sariel freezes. He lowers Jessica until she grasps the catwalk’s railing and backs off. “What will it be? The girl… or me?”
The muscles in Sariel’s jaw twitch as his eyes flick between Jessica, her fingers slipping, and Andras, already disappearing into the shadows.
“Sariel…” I groan from the floor.
“Fuck.”
My love bursts into motion, transporting himself up to Jessica and grabbing her wrist just as her fingers slip. He pulls her up and her weight crashes against him, sending them both on their knees. She sobs into his neck as he wraps his arms around her in comfort.
Andras’ laughter cuts off as I drop my head back down to the ground, waiting to heal enough to move.
He’s gone.