Hunted

“Come on, Lil,” Cardinal Hsia called out. “We are only four healers and there are many Guardians with more serious injuries than Bran. Finish with these two. Izzy, come with me.”

I rolled my eyes. “We just sent an archangel and his warriors home,” I whispered. “You’d think we’d have a hero’s moment.”

Bran laughed, cupped my face and gave me a sweet, but oh so brief kiss. “We’ll have our moment after this. What deal was Raphael talking about?” he asked as we walked toward the others.

“He’d asked me to surrender and his warriors would spare the Guardians. Maybe I should have.”

“You heard your grandfather; they’ll ascend, and we are more united than before. Tonight we fought as Nephilim against a common enemy. The Brotherhood, Dante and his nature-bender friends, Lottius and her demons were all united because of you.”

And so many were dead too, because of me. “But when the archangels come back—”

“We will fight them again. No one is surrendering. Where’s your dagger?”

I looked around. “It’s in here somewhere, but it’s only active when I touch it.”

“I’ll find it.” Bran ran his knuckles along my jaw. “Don’t ever think of surrendering. You wouldn’t want to leave me behind, would you?”

No, I wouldn’t. I turned and hurried to Remy and Sykes’s side.

“What deal is Bran talking about?” Remy asked.

I explained Raphael’s offer.

“Self-righteous prick,” Sykes muttered. “Doesn’t he know our motto?”

“We have a motto?” I asked, placing my hands on their wounds.

“Yeah. ‘Live, Love, and Die in Glory’, meaning live and love like it’s your last time and if you’re going down, take as many douchebags with you as possible. And I’m not talking about demons. Archangels just replaced demons at the top of the ‘douchebags’ list.”

Remy chuckled. “That’s a good one.”

They bumped fists. Remy’s wound had already closed up. His torn shirt and coat repaired themselves and the blood that had caked them floated away. Sykes’ burns had disappeared too, leaving behind his singed shirt.

“Want me to fix that?” Remy asked.

“Nah, this is a collector’s item.” Sykes hopped to his feet. “I’ll donate it to the Xenithian museum. The title will read,” he pretended to read a headline, “‘Superior Cardinal Energy Guardian Triumphs Over Inferior Angelic Fire’.”

“Mouthy,” Bran said. He had found my dagger.

“Works for me, bro. You could even sell a few of your stubby feathers. Do you guys realize we just made history? We can even rewrite the Guardian history. Does anyone know how the seniors found us?” Sykes asked

“Lucien,” Izzy answered, having reappeared beside us without our knowledge. “He went straight to Master Haziel after dropping off the Specials,” she said impatiently. “The summoning has started and the seniors want you guys center stage. Lil, Master Haziel wants to see you first.”

“He’s here?”

“Of course. Come on.” She grabbed my arm just as a murmur filled the air. “Tribunal…tribunal… tribunal…”

We hurried toward the hall as the chant rose and increased in intensity. Hundreds of voices raised, demanding to be heard. “Tribunal…tribunal… tribunal…”

Then there was silence.

I stepped over broken furniture and shards of glass. Scorch marks spotted the carpet and walls, telltale signs of energy balls and dead demons. Guardians and demons stood on opposite sides of the room. I followed their gazes and frowned. There was nothing up there. Where was the Tribunal?

“This way,” Izzy said, dragging me away from the gathering and toward the area under the stairs.

“But the Tribunal…?” My voice trailed off when I noticed Dante. He stood apart from everyone, his expression furious. He wasn’t staring up. “Dante?”

He looked at me as though he didn’t recognize me. A bad feeling washed over me. “Where’s Kael?”

“He’s gone.” Dante’s voice was rough.

“Gone where…no,” I shook my head, tears rushing to my eyes. “Not Kael.”

“He died with honor, fighting for what he believed in—you,” Dante said harshly.

I saw through his harshness to the pain. It was so deep and vast, so heart-wrenching. I closed the gap between us. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

It was. Every life lost tonight was on me. Dante stiffened when I touched his arm, and I wasn’t sure whether he feared I might burn him again or he just didn’t want my touch. Demons weren’t big on hugs, but it didn’t matter. I wrapped my arms around him, pressed my cheek against his broad chest and squeezed. He stood there stiff as a board, his pain increasing instead of lessening.

“I’m so sorry. I wish I could bring him back for you,” I whispered.

He didn’t relax, but he patted my back. “Enough with that. Go. The Guardians need you.”

I stepped back, my hands dropping to my side, and searched his face. There was so much pain and rage. “I don’t want you to be alone, Dante. Join us. I mean, come live with us. You don’t even have to be a Guardian. You can be Neutral or whatever.”

The look he gave me was unreadable. “I can’t do that, Lilith. I must avenge his death.”

Of course. “Which archangel killed him? Raphael? I will fight with you and together we will clip his wings.”

“No. He was betrayed by one of us.”

Guardian or demon? “Who?”

He shook his head. “You’ll have enough to deal with in the coming months and don’t need to worry about this. This vengeance will be mine.”

“But will I see you again?”

“We will meet again, Lilith. This is just the beginning.” He bowed and pressed a fist to his left chest, then teleported.

The beginning of what? My suffering. No matter what anybody said, the archangels had come for me, not the others. Yet I was still alive and they were gone. Kael would end up in Tartarus, where the other demons would probably get high on torturing him because of me. If Raphael’s offer was still open when he came back, I was taking it and stopping these endless sacrifices.

I wiped the wetness from my cheeks and said. “Let’s go, Izzy.”

But Izzy’s eyes were glued to something behind me. I turned, then looked up and blinked. Astral images of thirteen men and women on ornate chairs hovered in the air to our right.

The Tribunal.

Only the top halves of their bodies were visible, I noticed. Six wore hooded white robes and smiled down at the Guardians while the other six, dressed in black, snarled. Even in death, demons were mean representatives. Despite the obvious differences, they were all old, with grey hair peeking from under their hoods. The men had long, shaggy beards and moustaches.

The thirteenth member of the Tribunal interested me more. He was younger, with no beard, no hood and no hair. In fact, he looked like a monk. Even his red robe was different from the others. He must have been their leader, or the judge.

“Who summoned us?” he said in an eerie voice, the sound ebbing and flowing as though he spoke through a mist or a long tunnel.

“We did,” Grampa said from somewhere in front of the Guardians.

“You need an advocate to address this court, Cardinal Falcon,” the leader said.