Then, the door opened.
They all froze.
A man stood in the door with short, white hair and pale silver eyes. From his back, red wings sprouted.
“Richard,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’re home early.”
His mouth curled into a sick smile. “And where do you think you’re going?”
For a minute he wondered, did the angel know what they were? Did he know why they were there? And then, he remembered that Tristan no longer wore his glamour.
This creature knew exactly what was going on.
Tristan moved so that he stood in front of them. “An arch-angel… I thought Caine did away with your kind. I thought he didn’t like any other beings to have that kind of power.”
The angel’s sickening smile widened. “Well, you were wrong.” He lifted his hand, pointed it at Tristan, and the gargoyle exploded raining down dust on all of them.
Coughing, Daniel’s heart racing. What the fuck just happened? Tristan? Tristan!
No, it couldn’t have happened. Tristan was a gargoyle! No one was powerful enough to destroy him so easily!
The dust settled, and there, inches from him, the arch-angel stood. And Tristan? He was gone, leaving behind nothing but a pile of dust and stone.
“What did you do to him?” Daniel’s voice shook with rage.
The creature smirked. “The same thing I’m going to do to you. But raining demon-flesh is a little messier.”
“Run!” he shouted to the Immortals.
The farmer didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the woman’s arm, and they raced for the back door.
“How… cute. You think they’ll escape me.”
Daniel moved backwards, one slow step at a time. His mind racing. How could he save the Immortals? How could he stop this being?
And then, the little flame beneath the kettle came into his view. And he knew.
Gesturing slightly with his hand, he called the flame. It jumped from the stove to the counters, cabinets and floor, it leapt to the little curtain on the window above the sink and began to devour it all. Energy coursed through Daniel, and power.
The angel saw none of it, his gaze focused on Daniel. “You’ve made such a terrible mistake, thinking you could overpower Caine. Instead, you brought another Immortal straight into our hands.”
Daniel swallowed hard, trying not to look back at the flames. “They were guarded this whole time. Nothing has changed.”
He drew back his lips, revealing sharp teeth. “Everything has changed. Caine has decreed that the last of the Immortals in our care will be brought to him. No more games. And… and this is the best part. He’s decided that your lives are forfeit. At last.”
“Nothing was stopping him from killing us before.”
The angel cocked its head. “Do you know why Caine doesn’t like arch-angels? Because to create us, he must link himself to us. That means we can read pieces of his thoughts. We can sense some of his emotions. And do you know what I’m sure of?”
Smoke was beginning to rise, and the kitchen was nearly consumed. How has the angel not sensed it?
“The Fate told him that upon your deaths, he would lose the war against the Immortals. But when your little friend, Mark, died, he realized something. You didn’t have to stay dead. And there’s a way to ensure your use to him.”
Sweat poured down Daniel’s face and his arms. The fire moved out of the kitchen and into the living room, smoke billowing, filling the room.
At last, the angel looked at it, then back at him. “Oh, how delightful. You thought to kill me with your fire.”
Suddenly, the angel disappeared.
Daniel looked around, heart racing, but the angel was nowhere to be seen.
Turning, he raced for the backdoor, but when he pulled on the handle, it wouldn’t open. On the other side of the door, the archangel smiled. His words came as clearly as if he was standing beside Daniel, whispering in his ear.
“You remember how painful it was to die by fire, fire-mage? How about angel-fire?”
Turning, he watched as the orange flames turned to blue. No! He had no control over that type of fire. It was too hot and too powerful.
The room grew painfully warm. The black smoke billowed, darker and heavier, consuming the oxygen.
Daniel turned back to the glass door and threw himself at it, but it held. Over and over again he tried to break the glass, but then he saw the glass, sparkling against the light of the angel-fire. And he knew. It had been enchanted.
The fire was everywhere now, sealing him into the living room.
There was nowhere to go.
Moving closer to the flames, he knelt down where the dust from Tristan lay. He picked it up in one of his hands, and sat, closing his eyes. This would not be a quick death. It would be slow and horrible.
But at least he still had Tristan.
And maybe the Immortals might even escape.
At the window, he sensed the archangel, drinking in the sight of what would soon happen.
But his enemies didn’t matter, only Surcy, Tristan, and Mark mattered. At least in death he would be reunited with them. Even if only for a short time before Caine destroyed their souls.
10
Surcy teleported to the other side of the world. It was night there, and the city below her was massive. The lights so bright in contrast with the darkness that it hurt her eyes. People were everywhere. Walking. Crammed onto the crowded streets in cars that barely moved in the traffic.
Somewhere in this chaos, the God of Sin hid.
If she could find him quickly enough, she could teleport back to her demons and the Immortals. They would all be safe, and they could hurry to save Mark in time, before Caine destroyed his soul. She’d known her demons would never let her pursue an Immortal alone. So, she’d done it without telling them.
They’d forgive her when they saw that it was the only way.
She teleported from the rooftop
