Chapter 51 Azrael
Azrael
The sound of that gun was music to my ears.
It hadn’t escaped me that I was missing out on something I had spent years building, but knowing that they were out there so ruthlessly slaughtering these people because of me? I suppose it was enough of a high to get me through this very tough time.
I chuckled, listening to yet another shot go off, letting my head fall back against the wall, my eyes swinging lazily to L.J. who was now standing, his hand gripped tightly around his gun. “Tick tock, the clock is up,” I sang.
He turned on me, eyes wide. “They can’t kill an entire church, Azrael. Half the people in there are high ranking members of society. They’re fucking attorneys and judges. Everybody is going to know!” he seethed.
“Will they?” I asked, turning my eyes to the door, my heart pounding.
I could feel her. I could feel her dark, wild presence.
My little sinner was coming to rescue me.
A queen rescuing a hatter, how about that.
“Not to burden you with such sorrowful news, but we own the Superior Court Judge of every state this church resides in. We own governors and mayors, and who we don’t own, I’ve got brothers who do.
The people who die in this church today are nothing to us.
No one. The power Malachi thought he had, he doesn’t. Not anymore.”
He was panting, sweat breaking out across his brow, the heels of his hands pressing against his head as he paced, gunshots ringing through the church.
It was only one that I could hear, and I knew it was my girl.
The others would have put on silencers, but Scar?
She hated guns, carrying one in her dress with a silencer screwed on?
She would never. No, she was going to shoot until she met whatever quota they gave her, and then she would switch to that precious knife of hers.
I knew her far too well to think she would do anything differently.
Guns were too quick.
Guns weren’t fun.
L.J. turned on me, pointing a shaking gun directly at my head. “I still have power. I still have you,” he panted, half-hysterical. “If I have you, they won’t kill me.”
“Oh,” I cooed, “you poor, na?ve little boy. My family doesn’t spare anyone, not anymore.
No mercy. No forgiveness. I’d like to think I taught them that, but I believe it was simply their experiences.
You see, after losing so many people in the name of mercy to one, you tend to become a little…
hard-hearted to the term. Forgiveness, after all, means nothing if the one you forgive goes out and ruins more lives. ”
“I won’t ruin anyone else’s life, I swear.”
I laughed. “You don’t have the self-control.”
He adjusted his grip, glancing to the door, flinching every time that gun went off, the screams not powerful enough to break through the soundproofing they had covered this hall with. “Malachi, I’ll call Malachi,” he panted, turning back to me.
“You do that,” I hummed, and watched as he lowered the gun to pull out his phone.
It rang several times before L.J. straightened, his eyes widened. “Sir…no, I know sir, please. They’re attacking the church…Azrael’s family.” A pause.
He pulled the phone away and hit a button. “He wants to speak to you.”
I smiled. “Hello, father dearest, to what do I owe this call?”
“You won’t win this, Azrael,” he snarled viciously. “You and your fucking family will die. Whatever it takes, I will fucking kill you.”
“Oh, well that is a fun little threat, isn’t it?”
He laughed and it sounded almost as hysterical as L.J.’s had. “She’s fucking weak, Azrael, I felt it when she was wrapped around my throbbing fucking cock. You are all weak. Even if you destroy the churches, there will be others that remain. I will live on. I am forever.”
I chuckled, my mind buzzing, my rage boiling.
My hands fought painfully against the chains against my own wishes, my skin breaking out in a sweat.
I had never wanted to kill someone more.
“What an arrogant thing to say. She is allowed to be weak,” I sang, the sound crazed and untethered.
“And in those moments, that’s when I step in, you see, Malachi,” I shook the chains again, “we don’t require them to be gods because we are the gods.
Scarlett is allowed to be weak because she has me.
And you? You have no one. Keep fighting, keep hiding, because we all know that’s what you’re doing, and try all you want, but in the end, you will always end up in my basement.
That’s how this story is fucking written. ”
There was silence and then a beep.
L.J. frowned and looked at the phone. “Sir?” Another pause before he pressed the screen, making sure that his worst nightmare had, in fact, come true.
His eyes found mine. “He hung up.”
I clicked my tongue, shaking in rage. “So sad.”
Fear bloomed across his features and I reveled in it. He stared at the door, clearly struggling with what he would do next.
I started to hum, enjoying the music of the gun. I did truly dislike that I couldn’t be a part of this, but what were plans if they weren’t meant to be broken?
L.J. turned back to me. “This is all your fault,” he breathed out, unable to latch onto the pride-fueled arrogance he had been carrying since before his father died.
“You did this. If you had never come to this church, we would all be fucking that bitch right now. Instead, we’re dealing with a massacre! ”
My smile stretched from ear to ear. “You can thank your precious Founder for that,” I told him.
“He sent me to the asylum that led me to the church in the first place. Perhaps if he, and you, would not have been so covetous, so greedy, you never would have been found, hmm? But that’s the problem with power, isn’t it.
No matter the person, there is always a limit to how much one can have before they become drunk off it. ”
He stepped towards me, his gun up again. “You included in that?”
“I am,” I answered. “But I would never allow myself to get to that point, you, on the other hand. Look at you. Big talk when you’re injecting people with paralytics and chaining them to walls.
But when the threat comes to your doorstep wearing a skirt, you shake like a leaf in the wind. True colors,” I hummed.
He snarled, shoving the gun against my temple. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he growled.
I wasn’t a stranger to a gun to the temple, not even a gun held by a manic, pride-led man, but there was a small piece of me that worried now. It wasn’t something I was used to. A little piece of fear pounding deep within my gut.
“You’ll never see her again.”
Oh, but I would. I just had to be patient.
“You can’t out-patience a bullet.”
I could out-patient a fucking bomb if I had to. I would see her again, whatever the cost.
He inhaled, shoving the gun harder into my head, forcing my head to one side only to slow a second later. “Wait,” he said, easing up on it and turning to the door. “What is that?”
An opportunity. “Silence,” I hummed.
I wrapped my hand around his wrist and slammed my foot into his knee, snapping it out of place.
He cried out, the gun slipping from his hand into mine as he collapsed right in front of me.
I aimed the best I could and pulled the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder.
He screamed, trying to scramble back, but I pulled the trigger again and again, emptying the six-shooter into his feeble little body.
None of the hits were fatal.
Oh well.
~~~
Scarlett
I ripped my knife out of the woman’s neck and stood, ran after her husband, jumped on his back, and sliced his throat open, the blood gushing from the wound.
I fell from his back before he collapsed and spun to the church, panting, seeing Lucy splattered in blood, ripping into another man while Olivia continued to shoot all those who ran, Poppy watching her back, hitting those she wasn’t.
I turned to the other side, just in time to see Havoc dispose of another runner.
There were a lot of them piling up at the doors after they had tried to escape.
It was far too easy killing them while they were huddling there, it was when they realized they couldn’t escape that they started running around, hiding under the pews, trying to go anywhere they could to survive this.
What they didn’t realize was that we were allowing some of them to hide. The Favorites would live. The kids would live. I could see some casualties lying around that we didn’t mean to hit, but we all knew that would happen. They wouldn’t all survive, it was guaranteed.
Havoc pulled his trigger again and I waved my hand, blood splattering across my dress, my skin.
He paused and straightened, his own chest moving as he tried to catch his breath.
It was a workout for all of us, it seemed.
“Make an announcement,” I told him. Most everyone was dead now, the smell of blood filling the room, soaking the carpet so fully, that I was sure the wood underneath would rot away, forcing the building to be condemned. “Have you seen the Leaders?” I asked.
He shook his head and my eyes shifted to Poppy and Olivia.
Poppy was checking on Olivia, making sure she was still good, Lucy still chewing on a body.
“If you’re a Favorite, you’re safe,” Havoc shouted through the room. “We’re not here to kill you, we want to take you out of this place and somewhere safe. If you’re a member of this church, don’t lie. We know who you are. You’re never getting out.”
Poppy and Olivia finally looked up, both panting, Olivia placing a hand on her stomach as they looked around the room until they finally found my eyes. “Are you okay?”
Olivia ran her hand over her stomach, looking down at her bump, focusing on her body for a few seconds before she found my eyes again and nodded.
Relief filled me. “Any Leaders?” I asked them.
Poppy shook her head. “No, you?”
I frowned and shook my head. “No.” My eyes swung around to the office and I found Poppy’s eyes.