Sadriel folded her arms and shook her head. “We – we must smite them. To save them.”
I looked down at the glyphs on my forearms, how their light had dimmed in time with my realization. “But that would destroy them.”
Samyaza nodded sadly. “It’s the only way, Mason.”
I curled my fingers, confused, looking from the palm of one hand to the other. I couldn’t remember if it was Raziel or one of the others who had told me, but no one truly knew whether nephilim could regenerate their bodies. Raziel, if killed, would reform in the high heavens, no question, given an angel of his rank. Samyaza’s regeneration obviously took longer, but his return proved that even fallen angels were afforded the same privilege.
But what about us? What about the children of the fallen?
“We must ease their suffering,” Raziel said solemnly, raising a hand towards the burning nephilim. Samyaza nodded, and so did Sadriel, each of them extending their arms.
I lifted my hand, mirroring the others. I relinquished control over my inner essence, my heart twisting when a globe of light formed at the center of my palm. The smiting began. Through a veil of tears, I watched as I killed my own brothers and sisters.
28
The mingled light of our essences cleared. Nothing was left of the nephilim, not ashes, nor traces of their souls. A sick feeling sat in my stomach. Was there truly nothing else we could have done? Sadriel slipped to her knees, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Raziel knelt, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Not now, sister. The fight isn’t over. If we defeat the prince, then nothing like this can happen again. We can prevent it. If we slay Beelzebub, the deaths of these children will be avenged.”
Sadriel looked up at him with anger in her eyes, dark tears staining her cheeks. “Avenging their deaths won’t bring them back, Raziel. You and I both know that.” She dragged her sleeve across her face, clearing her throat as she allowed him to help her back up on her feet. “But you are correct. It begins and ends with the Prince of Gluttony. He must be stopped.”
We were all on the same page, then. My mother was still trapped in her electrified prison, her hands wrapped around herself, knees drawn up to her chest. We were going to end her pain, make sure she was safe. Samyaza and I exchanged glances, nodding, and once again I bent my knees, preparing to engage my wings.
“What just happened here?”
Lina clanked as she strolled up to us, her armor spattered with demon blood, her bat encrusted with far more disgusting bits and pieces of Beelzebub’s offspring. Box yipped and trailed at her heels, his teeth similarly festooned with the stringy viscera of disemboweled demons. I gave him a quick pat on the lid, getting a satisfied rumbling purr in return.
“What did I miss?” Lina said, clanking again as she tapped her bat against the ground.
Sadriel opened her mouth, but found nothing to say. What were we supposed to say? A white lie, I decided. Something small, and mostly harmless. What Lina didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“Just more demons,” I said quickly, watching out of the corner of my eye as Sadriel made a subtle, quiet nod.
Lina held up her gauntlet, reaching out to thin air and imitating what we’d just done. “Yeah, okay, cool, but the four of you totally just shot light out of your fingers. What’s that about?”
“Smiting,” I said, shrugging off my shirt. “It’s something we can do, apparently. We’ll fill you in on it later.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Why are you taking your shirt off? Weird flex, bro. Literally.”
I stuffed my shirt into my waistband, giving Box one last pat on the head. “We’ll fill you in on that later, too. We can fly. Not sure if you’ve tried. But right now, that woman in that pillar? That’s my mom. And I gotta go save her.”
My wings sprouted from my back, and I took off rocketing into the sky. Below me, in a voice that grew smaller and smaller as I ascended, I heard Lina shouting.
“Holy shiiit.”
Raziel came along, too, rising even faster through the power of his four wings, and Samyaza followed seconds after. I looked down for a moment, wondering if Sadriel was going to come with us, then understanding why she stayed grounded. It was for Lina. I bit the inside of my cheek. We’d lost enough nephilim already. Sadriel wouldn’t allow yet another death to happen. I set my jaw, beating my wings harder.
The fight against Beelzebub’s minions on the ground would go well. Between Sadriel, Lina, Box, Dionysus, and Florian, and a whole troop of mages from the Lorica, it was only a matter of time until Masaya and the surrounding area was cleared. Then they could focus on sealing, or at least supervising the hellmouth. But up in the air, things were tougher. Tenser.
“About time you showed up,” Artemis shouted, her hair trailing in the wind as Apollo steered his chariot in a continuous spiral.
“Busy,” I shouted back. “As if you hadn’t noticed.”
A ray of golden light scorched past, Apollo aiming another blast of sunfire at Beelzebub. “Won’t lie,” he shouted. “We really need the help.”
Not an exaggeration. It was common knowledge that the Seven were stupendously powerful, but for one to stand on his own against a pair of ancient gods was quite something else. Beelzebub had transformed, too. Apart from the fly-like wings he’d sprouted, I could mainly see it in the seams of his mouth. His jaw had unhinged itself, very much like what had happened back in the freezer at Cornucopia. And for good reason.
“Heads up,” Artemis shouted.
Beelzebub opened his mouth, and out shot a stream of his beloved flies, scattering and flying at top speed towards anything in range. That meant us. Even with five targets in
