“Your whole deal is to blast the countryside with chilling winter if your pet cult doesn’t show you enough adoration. If you fail to see how messed up that is, then the two of you are justifiably insane.”
Nuriel’s smile stretched even wider, the grin of someone convinced of his own righteousness. “Believe what you will, heathen. We are only here to ensure that you and your friends will no longer have the opportunity to interfere in our mission. Baradiel?”
The black-haired angel nodded. “We kill the demons. We confiscate the book. And the girl?”
“She is not beyond redemption,” Nuriel said.
Crystal chuckled. “You can both go to hell.”
She thrust her arms forward, a hazy globe of violet energy shooting from her hands like a cannonball. The brothers hardly flinched as the globe landed between them, exploding into a cloud of powder, then settling into a fine, purple mist.
“Poison gas,” she said to me and Pierce. “Don’t inhale it. You’re welcome.”
“Give ’em hell,” I said. Pierce nodded at me, brows furrowed, resolute, before vanishing in a blur.
Two streaks of silver bolted across the field, his daggers thrown at each of the brothers. Pierce’s aim was true: Nuriel and Baradiel glanced down at their chests, then at each other, laughing piteously, reveling in how they weren’t vampires. Of course they weren’t. Vampires didn’t breathe. Fortunately, angels still did.
Pierce’s assault bought enough time for Crystal’s gaseous cloud to work its horrible magics. The angels coughed, then retched, blood spilling from their mouths as they fell to their knees, clawing at the grass. Being so low on the ground meant that they were even more exposed to whatever witchy toxin she’d used. Perfect.
Then I noticed Baradiel’s lips moving, his hand wiping shakily against his mouth as he staggered to his feet. I shuddered as a cold wind rushed through the field, whipping at the grass – but also stirring the gas.
“Uh-oh,” Crystal said.
We couldn’t afford the risk. I held my hand out, aiming for the ground the angels were standing on, and, therefore, the quickly moving swirl of purple.
“Ignis.”
The bolt of flame that ejected from my palm was smaller, certainly weaker than what I was used to magicking, but it served its purpose. Nuriel and Baradiel screamed as the cloud of gas erupted at their feet, searing their skin, burning their clothes. But these were, of course, angels. They stepped out of the flames, skin already regenerating, wounds repairing.
Damn it all to hell.
20
“We’re fucked,” I muttered, hating that I had no real recourse for destroying the brothers.
“I didn’t think the gas would actually kill them,” Crystal said. “That stuff’s good enough to kill people, but I’ve never fought angels.”
“You did well,” Dantaleon said, a surprising softness in his voice. I could barely conceal my irritation, and perhaps my jealousy, at how he’d so readily come to praise a girl he’d known for less than a day. He hovered forward, approaching the angels. “Stand clear, children.”
“Children?” Crystal said, scoffing, looking at me in disbelief. “Just who is he calling children, exactly? Why, I oughta – ”
We’d fought alongside each other for years, but sometimes Pierce’s immense speed still took me by surprise. He caught Crystal by the waist, pulling her to the threshold of the building as she sputtered and protested. See, Pierce and I knew better. When Dantaleon said to stand clear, what he really meant was that we should have started running ten minutes ago.
Still several feet away, the angels stopped advancing. From that distance it was clear that the two were cut from the same cloth, the only true difference being the color of their hair. Mirrors of each other, the angels each held out the opposite hand, pointing them like the twin barrels of some strange celestial weapon.
It was definitely time to clear out.
The day turned even colder as the first of what appeared like sparkling jewels emerged from the angels’ hands. They were shards of ice, little icicles with the shape and sharpness of jagged diamonds, spraying like a hail of gunfire. I hesitated, caught between running and casting a protection spell when I suddenly found myself standing at the threshold to the abandoned building.
I looked around, blinking, wondering how I’d been transported when I found Crystal’s hands on my shoulders.
“How?” I began to say.
She winked at me. “Dabbler, remember? Short-range teleportation. Now shut up. Here come the fireworks.”
Crystal had shunted us far enough away from the danger of the barrage of ice, but she’d also positioned us perfectly to witness the real reason we hadn’t been cut down by a stream of icicles. Dantaleon’s pages faced the angels head on, an enormous gout of fire roaring in shrieking torrents from between his covers.
The air quivered where the two streams met, ice hissing and sputtering as it turned into steam, fire guttering out as the cold and wet doused it, bit by bit. The grass underneath was damp, then dry, then burnt into a twisted crisp. Still Dantaleon and the angels emanated their magics. It was a stalemate, and by the time one side tired out and succumbed to the other, the field would be turned into mud, or scorched outright.
“This could go on forever,” I murmured. Dantaleon’s stores of magic ran deep, but who knew how much power the angels had brought with them? Something had to give.
Thunder cracked. A streak of lightning split the sky, striking Dantaleon. His scream filled the air as he spiraled to the ground in a flurry of scattered parchment. Instinct took over and I strained to run for him, but Pierce held me back. My fists clenched with frustration.
Both the angels halted their assault as the first few drops of rain fell to the earth. Nuriel laughed as he lifted one hand to the clouds, letting the rain drip between his fingers.
“See, brother? Adriel regains his power. He sent that lightning to help us.”
“But also as a message. We are needed.” Baradiel raised his head to the sky, fixing me with his gaze.
