He was easy prey.
I almost lost myself to the flow of war, pulling back on the last vestiges of clarity with great effort.
I had a purpose here; the knife, the chains. I couldn’t go into a blind rage.
My silver blade caught in a chink in his armor and Gabriel jerked away, pulling it from my hand. “Your deceit won’t serve you well, Belial.” His deep voice rang through the air like a gong and he lit up, a blazing star in the middle of a vast void of nothing.
I came at him again with my sword, and Gabriel spun, a frenzy of wings and flame, and sheared right through my blade. I dropped the useless hilt.
He hadn’t looked at my left hand, the dark blade I’d pulled from my thigh. In the drip of time, I saw the perfect sliver of a second when his back was to me, his arms extended, the gap in his armor.
I punched forward with the ebonite dagger, pushing it between the plates of his armor and driving it deep into his side.
Gabriel gasped, unable to make a sound as it pierced his kidney. Hot blood sluiced over my hand when I twisted the blade. He dropped the Sword of Light, and it buried itself point-first in the sand once more.
“You… fucker,” he gritted out, veins standing out on his reddening face. I wrapped my free arm around his throat, squeezing hard as his gauntleted fingers scrabbled uselessly for purchase on my forearm.
“No, that’s you,” I whispered, pushing as much of the blade into his body as possible.
Gabriel jerked his head back, smashing me in the face with the back of his skull. Blood burst from my split lip, staining his silver hair scarlet, and he got what he wanted: the slightest loosening of my grip.
The force of a hurricane swept over me, knocking me backwards, and then Gabriel was on me, smashing his fist into my face. His wings spread wide, coloring the sky white, reflecting his heavenly fire back a thousand times over until I was blind.
Pain rocketed through me, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest.
The broken bond urged me on, begging me to repair it. She’d had faith in me. I wouldn’t die here, not today.
I reached up unseeingly and gripped whatever I could find of him, clawing his face, but his gauntlet was around my throat, squeezing tighter and tighter.
I heard my spine creak, the vertebra protesting the relentless pressure that threatened to rip my head from my body.
In a last effort, I wrapped my arms around Gabriel in a bear-hug, intending to crush his armor open. My hand brushed something sticking out of him- the hilt of the ebonite dagger.
Taking it in my grip, I pulled it free as the archangel dug his fingers into my neck and split the flesh, opening my veins to paint the desert red. My other hand dug into the sand, groping for a length of the chain.
As I bled out, I struck.
Blind faith would have to be enough.
28
Melisande
Days passed.
Belial didn’t come back.
My fears weighed on me heavily, alongside my deceit. One night, four days after we’d returned and I finally had my three remaining men alone, I closed my door and locked it.
Tascius was stretched out in a chair, still sweaty from training practice. Azazel leaned next to a window, a slight frown on his face as he gazed at the garden below. Lucifer sprawled across my bed, his wings extended to their full length.
All I had to do was keep my mouth shut, and we could have a peaceful night, maybe one just like the night we’d shared in the City of Sight.
But the Visionary’s words ate at me, and compounded with my worry for Belial, I found myself feeling almost sick.
“There’s something I have to say,” I said, bracing myself for the onslaught of anger. “While we were in the City of Sight, the Visionary told me something that made me wonder if we were on the right path.”
Azazel’s violet eyes flicked my way, and his frown deepened.
Ah, fuck.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his baritone voice stern.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to hold my ground. I’d handled worse than their anger. I wasn’t going to cower now.
“She had a vision of the path ahead. According to her, one is a straight path, and it ends in bloodshed. The other path was a leap of faith, but she said there would be happiness at the end of it.” I forced myself to hold his steadily-darkening gaze. “She told me ‘a sword is only a sword, but a feather is more than a feather’.”
“Did she give you any clarification on that?” Lucifer asked, sitting up slowly.
I didn’t like the way they were looking at me at all.
It was just like what I’d done with Belial; I’d forged my own way ahead without thinking, without taking anyone else into account. I was so used to operating on my own decisions that I hadn’t asked for their permission, treating my choice as a kingdom unto itself.
My stomach churned. I didn’t think I could take it if I managed to turn them all away from me.
“I took it to be a part of that leap of faith.” My voice came out strong, thank god. “A sword is just a sword. Do we need an inverse sword, really, when the Sword of Light is the one destined to kill the Dragon?”
Azazel looked at me uncomprehendingly. “Do we need it? Yes, of course. Our plans revolve around one of us being able to touch the sword at all. The Sword of Light is not an option.”
“But I’ve wielded it,” I said, showing my palm like the scars would back me up.
“No.” His clipped tones were back in place. “You’ve fallen since that time. The risk is too great. Even laying a finger on it could eat you alive
