“Cut it out, old woman, it’s me Wyatt.”
The Countess opened her eyes wide, which was hazardous considering her eye could fall out at any moment. “It is you. I heard you got wings forced upon you.”
“Your daughter did it, and see, we have pretty close to a matched set. My sister donated those, Mia.”
“Thank her for me.”
“I will. She’s a kind soul. What’s the plan?”
“We can’t take the children out of here unless we fly out, and the Nephilim kind of screws that up. We can’t hop over the fence because of the hellhounds. The only thing that is slowing down the inevitable fight is the fog - courtesy of the Countess. Her minions keep changing the signs on the paths, so the extermination gang is walking in circles. But that won’t last long. I was just about ready to go out and hunt me down an Other and pin his contract to his chest like I did twenty years ago.”
“Orion has to do it,” Altair said. “It’s his kid who’s the subject of the contract.”
Orion nodded.
“Mia, you’re not going to like this, but we have to kill the Nephilim first. It’s not your uncle, so karmically you’ll be okay, but it is a Nephilim, so chances are we’ll die in the process,” Altair said.
“Why? He’s up there in the between.”
“He’s hungry. He’ll be looking for food soon. There are a lot of people in Big Bear Lake who are starting to look tasty about now.”
“If we kill it…”
“Nicholai and Victor are waiting with their men. The assassins will be taken care of. Orion, you take care of the Other, and if Mia and I survive, we’ll come back for Quazar. Roumain says we need him alive.”
Mia turned to Murphy. “You have to stay here. You’re the only one I know who has the remotest of possibilities of saving the day.”
“I want to go with you.”
“Do you like flying?”
“No.”
“I’m flying up there.”
“I’m staying here,” he said.
“Good.” She turned to her grandfather, “Orion, it’s the tall Other who has the contract. He keeps it in his left breast pocket.”
“Once I have it, what do I do?”
“I took it, placed it over the Other’s heart, and drove a dagger through both and called out contract canceled. It seemed to do the job in 1998.” Mia turned to go and then leaned in and whispered, “Tell Ted to move on after I die. I’m not coming back this time. Not even Murphy can get into this chest if my heart gives out; it’s been armored.”
Orion kissed her on the cheek. “You’ll be back. I’m certain of it. And, Mia, I would like you to know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, that means a lot.”
“Are you armed?” Altair asked her.
Mia displayed her sword. “It’s from Santa.”
“Have you bonded with it yet?”
“No.”
“Oy, do I have to do everything? Come here,” Altair said, irritated. He placed the sword on Mia’s outstretched arms and, this time, spoke in a language only the archangels could understand. “Name the sword.”
“Handsome.”
Altair rolled his eyes. He continued on with his ritual. The sword disappeared. “Call it.”
“Come here, Handsome,” Mia said.
The sword appeared in her grasp.
“That is so cool,” she said. “Almost as cool as Romeo and Juliet.”
The daggers appeared in her other hand.
“Thanks, Roumain,” Mia said and put them inside her right wing. The sword was put where she originally found it.
“Wait!” the Countess said, walking over. She drew out of her skull a hatpin eight inches long.
“That’s some hatpin,” Mia said.
“It was some hat. Take this, it may come in handy.” The Countess wove it between the feathers behind Mia’s neck. “I decided to call you Serilda, so live up to it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Remember when we spoke about how you would be remembered after you were gone? You’re not a basket case. You’ll be remembered like this, strong, determined and loved.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, let’s go. I’m hoping to binge-watch ‘Game of Thrones’ this weekend,” Altair said and shot up into the air.
Mia looked at Murphy and placed her hand over her heart and pointed at him before she followed Altair to their probable deaths.
Chapter Thirty-three
“His name is Daskalov,” Altair said as they watched the thing circling. The creature was at least twelve feet long with a thirty-foot webbed wingspan. His neck was long like a dragon, but his skin was smooth. The Nephilim’s eyes were dark blue with deeper blue irises. Mia had a hard time seeing the creature as an enemy.
“Are you sure we can’t talk to it? Get him to leave, bribe him if we have to.”
“Daskalov has slipped into insanity. He wouldn’t be able to understand us,” Altair said. “The powers of a Nephilim vary. Fortunately, they aren’t fire breathers, but they are strong. Thick hide and their claws and talons regrow at an alarming rate. This one has a tail with a barb on the end. His teeth are razor sharp.”
“Does he have a kill spot?” Mia asked.
“No. We have to do as much damage to him as possible and get him to chase us up above the between and then drive him into the ground hard enough so his skull explodes.”
“In other words, it’s a cakewalk,” Mia said, distracted. “Altair, where am I going if I crash with the Nephilim?”
“Don’t worry, remember Azrael is in charge of the light.”
“Shit. We better survive this because I got Sariel’s blood all over his belt.”
“Not the belt the Virgin Mary gave to him.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Mia said. Mia studied the Nephilim before speaking. “Well, since he doesn’t acknowledge you as an enemy, I’ll draw his ire. You get behind him.
