12. Swords of God #2
She gave him a sidelong glance, her face remaining impassive, aside from a brief flash of heat in her eyes.
“No, thank you. If I were really wanting to fuel up, it would probably look more like what you guys expected me to do in the beginning. Multi-source feeding frenzy, not giving the human meal-ticket a break, seriously draining them.”
Stavros frowned and drew back, watching her. Personally, I thought it was kind of obvious. He’d made her feel like a job he had to do. She was making him feel like food.
People falling in love were sort of stupid, which made it that much more ridiculous that I was jealous of Stavros right now.
“If I wanted to be really naughty I’d go grab that angel and suck him dry,” Deyva muttered, picking up one of the over easy eggs on her plate and dumping it into her vegetable soup, stabbing irritably at yolk with a fork.
“Why him?” I asked. Why not me ?
“God created my kind before your kind, remember?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Succubi were intended to feed on angels. They don’t feel it and we thrive on it. But...well, that situation got complicated and God scrapped us.”
I didn’t like Deyva’s interpretation of God, of a divine ruler simply experimenting by trial and error. It felt too much like my worst doubts, my ugliest thoughts. Had he given up on us too? Was that why he let Hell rise up and overtake us?
“That’s not what Az said last night,” Stavros said.
Deyva looked as though Stavros had just electrocuted her, her body pin straight and eyes the same shade of yellow as caution tape, a suitable warning.
Luckily for Stavros’ balls, one of our men from the security depot stepped up to the table at that moment.
“Fathers. We’ve got a situation coming toward the gate. Just some Hell wraiths but there’s a big group of them. Zach’s already heading for the gate. I think the angel’s with him,” Nick said, bouncing all the balls of his feet.
“Grab your shit,” I said to Stavros, sliding the remainder of my plate in Deyva’s direction before blinking at her, an idea striking me. “Hey. You down to send some wraiths back to Hell?”
Deyva was still stiff, eyes still yellow, and one of her hands wrapped tightly around the butter knife on the table. “I’m not going outside the gate,” she said, voice tight and thread thin, eyes flicking between Stavros and I.
I looked at him and saw that same ache on his features that I felt in my chest.
“That’s fine, Deyva,” he said softly.
I don’t know if he was even fully aware of what he did next, at least in terms of the fact that the town was around us, watching.
His hand cupped her shoulder and he leaned in, and pressed a brief kiss to her temple.
Deyva’s spiky tension bled away. She leaned into him for a moment and then they both pulled away, Deyva nodding and sagging in her seat.
“Go to the chapel when you’re done eating,” I said. “You’ll be safe there.”
At least, I hoped she would be.
Which was a whole other shit storm I could worry about later.
Stavros and I headed for the armory, which was little more than a storage shed we set up at a convenient crossroad—not too close to the gate, but on the way there.
It was loaded with gallons of holy water and water guns filled and ready to grab at a moment’s notice.
A few canisters of holy oil crowded the shelves too, and I grabbed one just in case while Stavros loaded himself up.
We were past the point of feeling like water guns were ridiculous.
Humanity learned too late that our weapons meant to kill each other were useless on hellions.
Guns, bombs, tanks—the demons just laughed at all of it.
All the major militaries of the world emptied their armories, spent billions of their currency, and sent millions of citizens to slaughter, all because they didn’t know how else to fight.
It was somewhat of a learning curve for us too.
Zach came up with the idea of blessing weapons with holy water first. First we blessed the water, then sprinkled it over bullets and grenades.
That worked better than anything had before, but we soon ran out of ammo.
And Hell never stopped coming. Turned out, using the water as a weapon itself was much more effective.
If only I had known back then, my unit would still be alive.
They were good guys, they might have even been part of the Bethel community, still fighting alongside me.
I probably wouldn’t need a succubus feasting on my carnal fantasies to get a decent night’s sleep.
I definitely wouldn’t be haunted by their screams, their charred up bodies, and the abject terror in their eyes at the knowledge of where they were going after death.
All to the eerie sound of demon laughter.
If only, if only.
“You think Deyva’s going to be okay?” Stav’s worried muttering as he strapped on weapons pulled me out of my dark thoughts.
Fuck, I hope so . “As long as nothing gets in the gate and she doesn’t get out.”
I took down my spare crossbow from the mount above the shed door. It wasn’t my favorite that I usually carried, but Teresa was back in the cottage and I didn’t have time to grab her.
“Think you’ll need that? It’s just wraiths.” Stavros watched me load a bolt, crafted with a holy water-anointed arrowhead and palo santo shaft, into my trusty weapon of choice.
“Can’t be too careful. Besides, they may have a general with them,” I reminded him. “If I have a chance to take down a big bad demon, I will.”
We closed up the shed and jogged out toward the gate to join the others.
A crowd of spectators had already gathered, Stavros and I exchanging a mutual look of frustration at the sight.
No matter how much we told people to stay inside, to keep a distance for their own safety, demon fights were often treated like entertainment.
And now, they had something new to watch.
“Good children of God,” Azariah addressed them, his injured wing tucked close to his body while the other stretched out above his head. “Have nothing to fear. Your brave priests and I will protect you. God will protect you!”
“I’ll pray for you!” One woman fell to her knees, hands already clasped together, with her face tipped skyward.
“Let your prayers be words of gratitude,” Azariah went on, golden feathers catching the light as his body turned. “You have your leaders, your community. But most importantly, your faith! Everything you’ve been through, and you still place your trust in God! I can feel it, my good people.”
“When did our people become yours?” I muttered under my breath.
Azariah placed a hand on his chest, and I swear some female tongues went wagging. “Your faith is my power, my strength. Bear witness to the miracles your faith can perform when channeled through an angel of the Lord.”
“Is he gunning for Zach’s job?” Stavros shook his head with a light laugh, once the angel finished his monologue.
“Gunnin’ for his dick, more likely,” I answered.
The young priest had been watching Azariah’s speech with rapt attention, his jaw setting hard as he raised his machete blade over his head, drawing cheers from the onlookers when the speech concluded.
Jesus, they were both turning this into a performance. I couldn’t tell who was trying to show off for who.
“All right everyone, stay back,” I instructed. “Remember to spray down the streets and roofs in case any embers make it over the gate.”
“God be with you!” someone called.
“Let’s get some wraiths!” Zach poured a few droplets of holy oil on his machete. It was all he needed before he flicked a lighter and the whole blade became engulfed in blue-orange flames. I caught Azariah staring at him, eyes bright with flickering holy fire.
Zach had every right to show off, if I was being honest. He had more demon kills than any of us. I might’ve had the army experience, but our pious young priest fought back at Hell with all the wrath of the Old Testament.
“Watch your back, don’t get sloppy,” I decided to warn him anyway. I fell into my old role as sergeant disturbingly easily whenever we went into battle.
Bracing one hand on our misshapen crucifix gate, I hopped over in one swift movement. It always felt strange on the other side, wilder and colder, with the inescapable reality that we could very easily die out here.
Stavros followed my lead while Zach and Azariah crossed over another section of crucifix fencing, where the wraiths had gathered in denser clusters.
These hellions were among the easiest to fight, but could gain the upper hand if we weren’t careful.
They looked like plumes of dark smoke, with the odd, human-like feature, such as arms or legs, or a skull in place of a head.
They could merge together to form a swirling dark cloud, so impenetrable you’d think you were in the middle of a tornado.
Our best strategy was taking them out before they got a chance to merge.
With my crossbow in my right hand and a water gun in my left, Stavros and I got down to doing just that.
“Let me know if you see a general,” I shouted over the hissing, chittering sounds of the wraiths. “Watch it!”
Stav spun just in time to shoot one that was trying to sneak up on him, dark smoke dissipating into nothing.
“There’s some clustering near the fence on the church side.”
“Daisy will be fine as long as she stays in there. Get your head in the game!”
“Where’d Zach and Azariah run off to?” He sprayed down several wraiths about to merge, finally focusing with his right head.
“Not sure,” I admitted. “Let’s head that way.
” Usually I could see Zach’s flaming blade across hundreds of yards, but the wraiths’ smoke fucked our visibility.
I also couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling about the angel.
Should have kept those two in my sight at all times, especially on the battlefield.
A sudden bright, white light stopped me in my tracks and forced me to shield my eyes.
“Back to where you came from, damned creatures!” Azariah’s voice rang out as if amplified by a speaker.
I peeked one eye open first and then the other, to see that the smoke had cleared and the light emanating from the angel.
Or rather, he was the light.
His hands were outstretched, his whole body glowing as though he were made of sunlight itself. Single handedly, he broke up a cluster of wraiths that were merging. And what he didn’t kill immediately, Zach jumped into the fray and swiftly cut down what remained with his demon blade.
“More coming down over the hill,” Stavros said.
“I see ‘em. Be ready, Zach.” My gun out of water, I holstered it and pulled out my own demon blade, a short katana-style sword I kept strapped to my back. Lightweight, with a thin, beautiful blade, I could use it one-handed comfortably, while still keeping my crossbow ready in the other.
“Azariah?” I called.
“Yes, Father Kais?” The glowing angel turned to me, his smile cocky and irritating.
“There’s a cluster merging by the church. Will you go take care of them while we get these?”
“Certainly, Father.” He started in that direction far too leisurely, casually, for anyone in the midst of a battle, immortal being or not.
But I didn’t have time to worry about his pace. I had to deal with what was right in front of me.
Zach swung his blade with controlled rolls of his wrists, the fire cutting through the air with whooshing sounds and a dazzling figure-eight pattern.
“Zach, you ready?”
“Just waiting on you, Kais.”
His eyes weren’t on the wraiths coming toward us fast, hovering above the ground in their shapeless masses. They were on Azariah.
“Zach!” I barked. “Get your head in the fucking game!”
“I’m good, I’m ready!” he yelled back.
“On three,” I said. “Stav, cover us.”
“Got you, guys.”
“One.” I raised my blade. “Two.”
Zach and I moved toward each other, finally in sync as our shoulders touched. We could hear the wraiths now, their creepy hissing crawling over my skin along with the heavy, corrupted presence of Hell they brought with them.
“Three!”
We moved in tandem, our blades slicing through smoky forms. The shine on mine let me know that we still had light, that the wraiths hadn’t succeeded in morphing and trapping us.
A small handful of our flock had been taken by merged wraiths in our early settlement days. We never found bodies, so we could only imagine they had been dragged back to Hell.
Not anymore , I thought as I slashed my way through the oppressive dark smoke. We are the swords of God.
All the while, I kept Zach’s flame in the corner of my eye. I knew he could handle himself, but fuck if I wasn’t still worried about the kid. Especially since that angel arrived.
“Kais, there’s something else coming over the hill!”
I felt the spray of Stav’s water gun raining down on me and welcomed the cooling moment. The smoke, heat, and heaviness in the air made my breathing labored, each inhale like a jagged knife sawing in and out of my lungs.
“What is it?” I never stopped cutting through, but the wraiths never seemed to stop either.
“Big, scary, ugly. I think it’s the demon general.”
I cleared out the smoky hellions in front of me before pausing to turn and look.
Oh no, those words didn’t do this thing justice.
This thing was nearly skeletal, its form black and brittle with red glowing lines all over its body, like dying logs in a campfire.
And its body, if it could even be called that, was horrifically distorted.
Impossibly long arms dragged along the ground, leaving small grass fires behind.
A small, human-sized skull held up disproportionately large horns, just as long as the arms, twisted and gnarled like ancient tree roots.
“What the fuck…”
“Zach, look out!” Stavros’ usually calm voice was laced with panic.
I turned around, cursing at myself for being distracted by the monstrosity. All hellions were grotesque and ugly-looking. Well, except for Devya.
Zach slashed wildly in a hurried, desperate attempt to cut through the wraiths closing in on him, but the damned things outnumbered him. Rushing in, I forgot all about the demon as I saw the fear rising in the young priests’ eyes, his panic making his movements sloppy.
“Hold on, I got you!” I jumped in next to him, cutting through with all my might, but the smoke was thick, almost solid in its density.
“Kais, that big fucker’s coming!”
“Where the fuck is the angel?” I bellowed.
“Kais…”
Zach’s voice was hoarse, weak. At some point I dropped my crossbow and tried to feel around for him.
The smoke was so thick, so suffocating. My limbs ached and my eyes burned, but I forced them open just to see the light of his flaming sword.
I didn’t know if it was my eyesight or the smoke closing in that made the light grow steadily dimmer.
“Zach, grab my hand!” I called out blindly.
And then his light was snuffed out.