Aimi had only just left, either of her own accord, or taken by force. He didn’t imagine it would be the latter, as Aimi had been a force to contend with even before she was an angel. Now… well, he pitied the demon that crossed her path. He got up off the bed and it was only then that he noticed it, sitting on the bedside table.
A strawberry.
It was a message. A message left just for him. There were probably no strawberries left growing on Earth now. Only an angel could presumably conjure a strawberry out of thin air. Aimi was telling him she was alright. Strawberries had been what she used to eat when they trained together in Hikari’s garden. Good times. Safe times.
He breathed a sigh of relief. He’d only just exhaled when the door to the motel was hit by something exceedingly heavy and powerful, and it exploded in a hail of wooden splinters. Sam ducked instinctively, even though he knew the shards couldn’t harm him, and grabbed his swords from where they rested next to the bed.
Silhouetted against the dark sky was an even darker figure, man-sized or perhaps slightly larger — in Sam’s confusion, it was hard to tell. It seemed to be gathering the darkness around it. Sam’s night vision was usually exceptional but for some reason, he couldn’t get a clear look at what this was. Perhaps his encounter with his father had fogged his mind, or maybe it was something else. Regardless, he hadn’t sensed this creature in front of him until now. It was almost as if it were employing a similar technique to his glamor.
His mind started to clear, focusing into battle readiness. The thing — for that’s what it was; it certainly wasn’t human — took a step into the room. As he focused, details emerged, like his mind had parted a curtain previously closed to him.
He recognized it then. Well, maybe not exactly what it was but he had a fairly good idea. It was a Cambion, like the half-human, half-Lemure he’d encountered earlier. But different. This creature was half-human alright, but it certainly wasn’t half-Lemure.
Much like Sam, it looked almost completely human. He. It was definitely male, albeit slightly larger than normal. He appeared slightly bigger than Sam — maybe just a few inches, but Sam knew that that extra reach would count when they crossed blades. Long limbs were connected to a powerful torso that tapered into a narrow waist, all completely encased in black armor. In fact, if it wasn’t for the small black wings (which appeared far too small to be functional) and the horns jutting from its head, it would have passed for human — once again, much like Sam. He knew which demon had mated with a human then. It had to be the spawn of some Prince or Princess. Definitely some form of demon royalty at any rate and, by definition, something to be wary of. This creature would not be as easily overcome as some half-Lemure hybrid.
And overcome it must be. Sam had no option. The only door out of the place was the one the Cambion had come through, and the only window was next to the creature. Basically, the only way out was through it. Fight it was. There was no mistaking the intent of the creature as it stalked towards him on long legs, flicking a long dark strand of hair out of it face and drawing a slim black blade as it moved.
Sam didn’t have time for this. He wanted to end this quickly before more demons were alerted by the noise. He strongly suspected his father had sent this demon after him. After all, his glamor was still in place. How else would it have found him?
He drew both swords and struck out using the momentum from the draw, so fluid and blindingly fast it appeared to be only one motion. As he attacked, the words of Miyamoto Musashi came to him: when the enemy attacks and you also decide to attack, hit with your body, and hit with your spirit, and hit from the Void with your hands, accelerating strongly.
In his arrogance, he assumed that would be the end of it. He could imagine the creature may be able to parry one sword, but two? To his surprise, he found himself fighting for his life. The Cambion parried both blades with casual ease. The riposte almost took out Sam’s eye, the tip of the creature’s sword missing by the barest measure. He smelled iron.
The Cambion came for him again. Sam darted to the side, desperately bringing his Katana down and across to block the vicious swing. Amazingly, he was too slow, unprepared and sluggish. Not by much but it was enough. His opponent’s blade snuck through his defense and tagged him neatly on the chest, slicing straight through his sweatshirt and into the fragile flesh beneath. The blade bit. It was shallow but stung more than it should have. Instinctively, Sam knew that this blade was much like the one possessed by his brother, probably not as powerful but still able to draw the life-force out of whomever it cut.
Sam jumped back, reassessing the situation. The Cambion paused for a moment and smiled knowingly. Sam didn’t bother returning the gesture. It was a waste of time posturing. The Cambion probably expected him to fight conventionally, content to let his sword do the work, watching his opponent become steadily weakened. Instead, Sam did the unexpected and feinted then reversed his blades, striking out simultaneously with both at completely different angles. No doubt his foe would be aware of Sam’s abilities but perhaps not his unpredictability.
As he suspected, the Cambion was caught unawares. It did remarkably well under the circumstances however, even managing to block one of Sam’s blades with a speed that Sam suspected wasn’t far from his own. As quick as it was though, it wasn’t quick enough. Sam’s smaller blade — the Wakizashi — took the creature just under the ribcage. Sam angled it up sharply though, plunging it directly into the Cambion’s heart.
They were face to face, so close Sam could smell its sulfurous breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Sam didn’t expect it to disintegrate into a plume of ash like a normal Lemure. Higher ranked demons seemed to have a tendency to remain on Earth upon their death. What happened next though was completely unprecedented in Sam’s experience. First, the Cambion smiled at him, then without preamble, it simply disappeared. No ash. No nothing. One second the Cambion was right next to him with his sword buried in its chest, the next, gone.
Sam blinked in surprise. “Well, that was different,” he muttered.
He took a moment to reflect and to assess, breathing more heavily than normal. His injury wasn’t bad but was still leaking blood. Usually an injury like this would have healed by now, but the Cambion’s blade wasn’t normal. Experience had taught him that the injury would heal eventually — probably. He hoped. The last injury he’d had like this had taken Satan himself to heal. He felt a little weak and light-headed but he reckoned he’d be alright.
Then he cast around with his mind. Now that he knew what to look for, he could sense them. Just. They were obviously trying to conceal themselves with a similar glamor to his own, but they weren’t quite strong enough to resist his scrying. They probably couldn’t detect him because their mind states showed no alarm. Four more of them. They were just now arriving outside the motel. Maybe the one he’d just killed had got here before the others, sent like the others by his father. That one had probably just been a little quicker or a little keener than the others. Sam smiled. Served him right.
Yet he’d managed to dispatch one of them with some difficulty. Sam suspected a further four of them would be more than his match. Discretion became the better part of valor.
Heedless of the noise it caused, Sam made his own exit, kicking through the thin walls and into the room next door. Not slowing, he charged through the next wall and the one after that. The repeated impact hurt — how could it not? He was certainly no Horned Demon accustomed to smashing through stud partitions like they were paper. His leading shoulder ached. It felt like he’d dislocated it. No matter, it would heal. More disturbing was the blood he could feel dribbling down his torso. The wound from the Cambion’s sword still hadn’t closed up, and he probably wasn’t doing it any favors mowing down buildings.
At the limits of his endurance now, he ploughed through two more walls. He could discern that the other Cambions still out there, still waiting. They probably thought their comrade was still in furious combat with him and so far, they seemed content to wait for their victor to emerge. It was a lucky break for Sam, and one that he wasn’t about to squander.
He thought for a moment about calling for Yeth but dismissed the idea almost immediately, crushing it quickly so that Yeth would not read his unconscious desire and come for him in any case. His Hellhound would not help him here. In fact, the presence of such a mighty creature would act as a beacon for every other demon in the vicinity, so Yeth would have to emerge from the nearby church and battle every other demon that crossed his path between there and Sam’s current position. It would take too long. Not only that, but Sam wasn’t convinced about how effective the great demon would be against these Cambions. They probably possessed his innate flame resistance and seemed unnervingly handy with their blades. Hell hounds didn’t have many weaknesses but as Sam had discovered long ago, a blade punched through their eye would kill them just as effectively as any other creature.
He couldn’t bring himself to put Yeth at risk. He’d get out of this mess by himself.
