“They're stalling,” I whispered in revelation. “Then I shouted, “They're stalling! They're not here to hurt Shehaquim; they're a fucking distraction!”
The angels standing before the Garden of Eden turned toward me in surprise, but they held their position; unsure as to what my assessment meant. Michael alighted on the steps beside me.
“A distraction for what?” Michael asked.
“I don't know,” I said. “But I do know that we're needed somewhere else. Ask the Grigori who released them.”
Michael nodded and shot up into the sky again. This time, the Four Horsemen went with him.
“Samyaza, who released you?” Michael called out.
The Grigori marched steadily over the field without responding. More and more of them poured out of the mountain gate, and the vibration of their march carried up the stone steps to me.
“Sariel, I carried your daughter's soul to Heaven!” Azrael shouted. “You owe me a debt as well, and I'm calling it in. Tell us who unchained you!”
“Mot!” A Grigori on the ground shouted immediately.
I didn't blame him; I wouldn't want to be indebted to Azrael either. But then I realized what had been said. Mot; the angel I was supposed to investigate, but had forgotten about during my trip to Jigoku, had released the Grigori. Of course he had to be the one responsible.
“Mothman,” I whispered as I looked at my husbands in shock.
Samyaza—who was evidently the Grigori leader—flew down to punch Sariel in the face. The Grigori went skidding across the grass, but then he got up and shook it off. The march continued.
“Turn back or we will advance!” Azrael shouted.
The Grigori marched on resolutely.
But then a horn blast cut across the Third Heaven, and all the angels went still; Grigori or otherwise. The sound was eerie; a mournful yet wicked call that sent shivers over my skin. I knew it immediately; I had heard it once before in another heaven; when Azrael had marched beside his father. And now, the Horn of Hell echoed across Shehaquim.
Out of the Gate of Hell poured a wave of demons. At their head rode Lucifer on the back of Salem, the dragon. Salem guarded the Hell gate, but he must have run off to warn Lucifer when the Grigori arrived. Bless his beautiful heart.
The emerald dragon lifted his head and roared as he raced across the grass toward the Grigori. Behind Satan and Salem rode the Holy Spirit—who also happened to be Queen of Hell—upon a shimmering white steed. The horse seemed ethereal; galloping over the ground as if it were floating. Next to the possibly-floating horse, Samael flew with Lilith, and on the ground beside them ran several demons; one of whom was Gello. I'd seen Gello's impressive, demon visage before, but I had no idea that her mother could transform into a flying, snake woman. The lower half of Lilith's body was a giant snake, while the upper half boasted a pair of acid-green, leathery wings. Intimidating was too weak a word to use to describe her.
Then Satan lifted a ram's horn to his lips and blew. The second sounding stopped the Grigori in their tracks.
“You called Luke?” I asked Raphael in surprise.
“Mike said to call all the angels.” Raphael smiled smugly. “Luke is still technically an angel.”
“Good call,” I said and laughed. “Literally.”
“Advance!” Michael shouted as he flew forward.
The Angelic Host—some of whom were still streaming into Shehaquim behind us—shot into the sky and rocketed toward the Grigori. The Grigori drew into a circle; crouching their giant forms as they laid their wings flat along their backs. They hadn't intended to fight, but now that they were faced with a battle, they wouldn't back down either. If they did, they'd go right back into chains.
I saw the determined and desperate look on the Grigori's faces and suddenly thought of Krishna; in hiding for all these years. Both the Grigori and Krishna had been imprisoned—in a way—for trying to help humans. Their help may have been poorly timed and may have ended up damaging more than helping, but they had set out to do good. They had set out to share their knowledge and help the human race advance instead of taking advantage of it as the other gods did. They had done so at great peril to themselves, and that kind of good didn't go away; no matter how long you chained it.
“Stop!” I shouted as I shifted into weredragon form and launched into the sky after the Host.
I sped toward the front of the angelic army and then past it. The angels gaped at me—several floundering midair—as I landed before the Grigori. Salem came to a dirt-errupting halt several yards away; the Army of Hell stumbling to a halt with him.
“Stop!” I shouted again. “We are all being manipulated. No one here actually wants to fight each other. Am I wrong?” I stared down the leader of the Grigori; Samyaza.
Up close, Samyaza was terrifying but oddly attractive. The Grigori were easily eight feet tall, and I had no idea how they managed to mate with humans. Not only were they giant, they were also thickly muscled; to the point where they made Odin look short and slender. I could see a fierce beauty in them, but their years of imprisonment had left lines of fury and madness etched across their skin. Welts from burning chains were branded into their wrists and ankles, and their faces were hollowed by starvation.
“Who are you, woman?” Samyaza asked as he stepped forward menacingly.
“She's my daughter-in-law!” Luke cried as he rode Salem over to us.
“She's my wife,” Azrael said as he alighted beside me; his scythe held at the ready.
“I'm the Godhunter,” I added, “and I have no quarrel with you Grigori. But I believe the
