I held up my hands to the heavens, unable to hold back a smirk. “O Gabriel, Hero of the Limpdick Brigade, He of the Stunted Baby-Carrot Cock, I beseech you to grace me with the glorious presence of your walnut-sized brain.”
Several long moments passed in silence.
“He Who Has a Big Sword Because He’s Making Up for Inadequacies-”
A streak of lightning cracked across the sky, and my smirk became a wide grin.
“Gabriel, whose plans always fail because he’s more concerned with his hair than his strategy, come down.”
Lightning began to fork across the sky as the storm clouds built, heralding not a downpour, but a comet of heavenly fury.
Satan help me, but it was too easy to goad the motherfucker.
I opened my mouth to pile on a few more insults, but Gabriel had heard.
I hoped all the other angels had, too. In fact, I’d bet the rest of my remaining Circle that at least half of them agreed with me.
Knowing I’d pissed him off brightened my mood exponentially. This was going to work. It had to; I was doing it for her.
The center of the stormy sky lightened, and a blazing flash of golden fire filled the clouds as Gabriel hurtled down, landing in the middle of the circle on one knee while gripping his precious sword.
The impact shook the ground in an earthquake. A stone at the nearby base of the mountain foothills split up the middle with a crack.
“Aw, look at you.” I tucked my knife away and crossed my arms as Gabriel slowly rose to his feet, glowering. “Does it make you feel special to walk in and strike a pose?”
He was of a height with me, being one of Heaven’s princely equivalents. Blond hair so light it was silver hung to his shoulders, and golden eyes gleamed in his chiseled face. They were lit with pure hate, and his white wings quivered in rage as he folded them behind his back. A golden halo spun above his head, glowing with its own internal light.
At least he’d come alone.
“What have you called me for?” he asked, thrusting his sword in the sand so it stood upright. Gold and silver flames danced along the blade, making the sand around him sparkle. “Are you hungry for another battle?”
I gave Melisande props just for having the self-control not to stab this pompous asshole in the back.
“Oh, no, there’s a purpose, old friend.” He was wearing silver armor, the inverse of my own black-lacquered ebonite plate. “You see, I wanted to thank you.”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes and looked me up and down. “What do you have to thank me for, hellspawn?”
This was probably the only nice thing I was ever going to say to him. “For sending me such a gift.” I held up the broken remains of Melisande’s halo, giving him a good look, and tossed them into the circle. It’d taken me hours to find the buried pieces.
Gabriel knelt and picked up a piece, turning it in his fingers. A strange play of emotions crossed his face: anger, satisfaction, and even what I thought might be regret. “So she’s alive.”
“Very much so. Were you hoping otherwise?”
The archangel lowered the fragment of halo, baring his teeth. “I did not cast her out as a favor to you. The bitch deserved to fall.”
I took a second to compose myself, keep the smile on my face, even as the lion bristled beneath my skin.
“I did hope her death would come quick and painless.” The asshole was lying through his teeth; just saying those words looked like it caused him pain. “She was a good soldier.”
“And what did God think of all this? Did he believe one of his own deserved to fall for no crime?”
Gabriel’s golden eyes flickered. His face went hard, lips pulled tight. “God has left the operations of his army to me,” he said tightly. “I cast her out as was my right.”
I took a step closer, craving the taste of his blood in my teeth. “How odd, that you haven’t fallen yourself.”
The archangel went perfectly still; he might’ve been a statue carved from marble and gold. “I am nothing if not God’s servant. Never in all my years have I given Heaven cause to reject me.”
Bloody fucking hypocrite. Rage bubbled inside me, heating my veins with its welcome fire. “You know what you’ve done.”
Gabriel raised his chin and dropped the halo in the sand.
“Do you have a death wish, Prince Belial? Is that why you’ve called me here? I’m happy to answer your prayers.” He gripped the Sword of Light, and a cruel smile finally broke through his stone façade. “Overjoyed, in fact. Your death is long overdue.”
“You’ve been saying that for millennia now. What a shocking surprise you haven’t managed to deliver yet.”
I swung my sword into the guard position, letting the flames of my wrath ignite in the blade. Gabriel lifted the Sword of Light, circling me carefully. Glass shattered underfoot as we stepped on the circle, breaking it under the weight of a hundred pounds of armor.
“Just like old times,” Gabriel said, his eyes kindling with inner light. “You won’t leave this place, Belial. I’ve waited too long to do what I should’ve done long ago.”
“Once again, you show a complete lack of foresight,” I agreed.
Gabriel’s features darkened, and he swung.
The Sword of Light met my blade with a bone-rattling clang, and then I was in my native element, adrenaline flooding my veins in a tide along with the manic frenzy of bloodlust.
Time stopped; we weren’t Gabriel and Belial. Everything was so much simpler than that.
This was a battlefield, and he was the enemy, and if I didn’t see his blood spill, my purpose was null. I would paint the sand with his blood, carve my arts into his flesh, crack open his armor to the meat beneath.
The archangel took several paces back as I advanced, slashing with my sword, delivering underhanded cuts with a sharpened dagger. He was being careful, watching his uneven
