“Lucifer’s path was never mine.”
Asmoday shook his head. “You turned your back on your uncle, snubbing his inheritance. You passed on the greatest gift of power since God willed Lucifer into existence and for what? So you could pretend to be human?” He laughed, his voice melodic yet arctic cold. “There is no room for you amongst humanity. They would just as soon cast you to the pyre like the witches of old before they would ever accept you. You are pariah.”
“Thanks for talking me up. I feel much better now.” The truth hurts sometimes.
A semblance of warmth softened his features.
“While your opportunity to take up the mantle of the Anti-Christ has passed, there are other offers to consider.” His eyes locked onto mine. “Embrace your true self. Join me and let us bring about the final days together, as your uncle decreed. Make him proud.”
I’d always wondered what I’d given up, and for what. Life hadn’t exactly been all blowjobs and free porn since I’d returned to Earth. It had been rough. For as long as I could remember, I’d had to fight for every scrap that crossed my plate, for every penny that kept me off the streets. I’d passed up the chance at power unimagined, the means to make all my sordid dreams come true.
“Accept my offer and I will grant your friends at DRAC clemency. I will spare their lives and give them a place of honor in the new order. I will even spare your angelic cousin, if that is what you desire.”
I couldn’t help but think about it. I could save my friends and family and make something of myself. It appealed to me, I can’t lie. The part of me related to Lucifer called for me to say yes, but all I could see was my mother’s face.
I shook my head. “I can’t.” I’d always been too human.
He sighed, his shoulders sagging, and reached out to me. “I will not extend my hand again, Triggaltheron. Take it now or be swept away by the tides of Armageddon.”
“I guess I better get my surfboard out of hock.”
He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a tight fist. “You will regret this.”
“It’s kinda hard to regret something when I’m dead.” A shiver ran down my spine as I spoke. Being a realist can be a serious downer sometimes. Asmoday took a step back. “Then our business is concluded.” He met my eyes again. I could see disappointment in his. There was a terrible certainty as well. “Farewell, Triggaltheron. We will not meet again.”
Ah crap. I wasn’t so dense I didn’t recognize a threat when I heard one.
Asmoday’s form wavered and turned indistinct, swallowed by a swelling mist of blackness. In a great plume of whirling obsidian, he drifted up and through the roof of the warehouse leaving behind an inky black cloud. At the same time Asmoday rose up, four shafts of brilliant white light descended. I squinted and put my hand up to shade my eyes as the shafts coalesced and took form. When the light faded, four angels stood before me. None of them looked thrilled to see me. Dressed in flowing white robes and barehanded, the angels began to fan out and circle around me. I could tell by the look in their gold eyes, they weren’t here to convert me. They were planning to go Old Testament on my ass.
A lot like demons, angels trended toward simplicity in violence. They didn’t rely on a bunch of modern weaponry, in fact, they rarely used anything more than a sword, preferring to crush their opponents with their bare hands. They restricted their magic use to augmenting their strikes or to deflect blows, and occasionally they might toss out an energy blast if it seemed reasonable, but they liked their combat up close and personal.
The opposite of humans, who’d refined handto-hand down to an art, supernatural fighters were all about sheer, unbridled brutality. They loved to brawl. Ugly, cold, and efficient, there was no science to it. By the look in the eyes of these guys, they fit nicely into the stereotype.
Though I had a damn good idea how this was gonna go down, I didn’t wait around to see it played out. I started strafing. Sweeping to the left to avoid them getting behind me, I started firing, drawing my second pistol as I moved. I guessed they didn’t know what kind of ammo I was packing because they charged recklessly forward into the hail of gunfire. Didn’t take but an instant for them to realize that was a mistake. The closest angel, who stepped to the front of the line, took three in the chest at close range. Each bullet hit with a solid, bone-shattering thud. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as spurts of shimmering yellow-gold blood sprung from the wounds. I held my fire, waiting to see what effect my guns had before I committed any more bullets. Never having the opportunity to shoot an angel before, I wanted some assurance it’d be effective before I blew my wad. As such, I didn’t leave my fate in the hands of DRAC’s demon-forged bullets. I kept backing toward the exit, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scene unfolding before me.
The wounded angel put his hands to his chest and looked down, muttering something incoherent. He collapsed an instant later. The other three went to his aid, covering him in comforting hands. It wouldn’t be enough. One second they were fluttering above him whispering words of encouragement, the next they froze, their faces going slack. Each raised his tear-stained face to Heaven and let loose a wailing dirge that rattled the dust from the rafters. That was my cue to get the hell out of Dodge.
I popped off a few more shots as they lowered their faces to glare at me, murder in their eyes. While I did, a ripple of energy tickled across my skin. As I’d just recently experienced it, I recognized the feeling instantly. It was the soul transfer. I’d forgotten it worked with angels as well.
“Damn it,” I complained just as the flush of orgasmic energy rippled through me, halting my retreat. My eyes fluttered closed.
An instant later, in the throes of what amounted to the equal of the best sex I’d ever had, one of the angels slammed into me. I almost didn’t feel it. I did feel the wall though, as we smashed through it. Surprisingly, it didn’t really hurt much.
Carried by the tackling angel’s momentum, we flew about a hundred feet out across the parking lot. We came down hard, the angel maneuvering me through my daze to take the brunt of the landing. We hit the asphalt with a fleshy slap, tumbling into a roll. After about fifteen feet and a serious case of road rash, we came to a stop. Turned out, I ended up on top. Even better, thanks to the ongoing transfer, my wounds had barely opened before they were stitching themselves shut. Man, I loved this stuff. I decided to go for seconds. With a smile so wide it hurt my jaw, I put my Page 109 gun to the forehead of the angel beneath me.
“Repeat after me. If I should die before I wake, I pray for Trigg my soul to take.”
You’d think I’d have learned from all the movie villains who get beat while monologuing. Guess not. Before I could pull the trigger, I caught a kick to the face. Apparently the transfer had run its course because I felt every bit of that one.
I heard my nose snap and felt a warm gush explode from it. Lightning bolts of pain shot through my eyes and I flew backwards and landed in a heap. My head felt like used Jell-o.
You figure it out.
I knew I couldn’t just sit there so I jumped to my feet, raised my guns and started blasting away at random, spinning in a tight circle. My eyes were so blurry everything was a wet blob so I aimed and shot at the darker blotches as I got to my feet. Meanwhile, I blinked hard and shook my head, hoping to clear my eyes without having to pull one of my guns from service. I managed to sluice a bit of the moisture away just as a shadow engulfed me. I growled at my stupidity. I had forgotten angels could fly.
I never had a chance. From above me there was a rush of wind just as two vice-like hands seized my shoulders. I felt myself spun about and pressed face first to the ground, a steely weight pinning me down. I was about to start bucking when I realized the maneuver hadn’t been aggressive. On top of that, I felt a woman’s boobs pressed into my back.
At least I hoped they were a woman’s. It could have been a really fat guy, but I preferred not to think of that possibility.
Right then, I felt the air pressure change. My lungs burned as the breath was ripped from them. My gasp was drowned out by the sonic boom that ripped open the sky as if a thousand thunder storms had been unleashed at once. I heard the sound of wrenching steel buried beneath the cacophony of destruction and smelled the tangy scent of burning wood and metal on the heated air. A heartbeat later, I felt the temperature drop about thirty degrees and the ground danced beneath me. I held on for dear life. Through it all, the boobs were an ever present comfort.
It ended a moment later. Everything had gone quiet. It was as if the world had been put on mute. I felt the restraining grip relax as my captor rolled off me. I opened my eyes and turned to see who’d held me. I met Scarlett’s green eyes. Her face was pensive and she seemed none too pleased.
