Angel Eyes (32 page)
“Ali,” Jake says, inching closer and closer to the girl.
He controls his emotions better than most. The demons can all smell the fear, so thick it nearly gives off flavor, but he keeps his voice calm as he takes the girl’s face in his hands.
“Listen to me.”
But the girl is hysterical, sobbing, fighting Jake off and pulling at the knife. Finally, despite Jake’s best efforts to stop her, she pulls the knife free. Blood flows down her arm, running over her knuckles and onto the aluminum. As the blood mixes with the water flooding the roof, it seems to multiply, and her hysteria grows. She cradles her arm against her body and backs away from Jake. With her other hand she swings the knife around, keeping him at a distance. She is just inches from the ledge now, and Jake lunges for her, taking a swipe of the blade across his shoulder. He ignores it, grabs her shoe, and pulls her toward him. The knife falls from her hand and over the ledge of the building into the darkness below.
The boy reaches out his hand and pulls the girl’s wounded arm toward him. “Ali, stop! You have to calm down. Please. I’ll take care of it.”
This is it!
The moment Damien’s worked so hard for. He holds his breath, knowing all his mistakes are meaningless now.
T
his time when I’m pulled beneath the wings of an angel, I’m better prepared. Still, to say I’m disoriented would be to put it mildly.
One moment I’m cutting a raven-headed girl free, and the next I’m lifted up and away. Hot wind and the pounding of wings fill my senses, and I scream, but only momentarily. A soft, quiet voice speaks to me, settling my racing heart. And I know it’s not Canaan. It’s Helene.
“Miss Macy’s new teacher?” I ask, realizing now where I’d heard the name.
“Yes,” she croons.
I’m taller than she is, but she’s strong. She holds me upright, facing out. My head below her chin, my feet hanging past hers. Her transparent wings wrap me tight from the beanie on my head to the toes of my green Chucks.
We emerge from the side of the warehouse, flying fast. I have no control over where we go or what we do, and that’s unnerving. But Helene’s humming. Something fast and lively that trills against my neck. Reverberates in my chest. Makes me brave.
And then I see the demons.
And Jake.
And the child, Ali.
She’s so close to the ledge of the warehouse, and she’s bleeding.
But Jake’s there.
He reaches out a hand . . .
T
he girl disappears.
There and then gone.
The six eyes of Damien’s fallen brothers burn into him. Every hair on his human arms stands tall, and he curses under his breath.
Jake drops his hand, and his shoulders sag in relief.
“The Shield,” Maka says bitterly.
Without hesitation the four demons transfer to the Celestial and unsheathe their weapons.
“Canaan,” Damien snarls. Now that his brothers suspect his words of truth, they’ll fight at his side. He squints against the light and looks around.
“There,” Larat’s mind screams. He dives into the sky, Latham at his heels. Like well-aimed arrows, they fly toward the roof of a building across the way where a Shield stands, her sword drawn, the girl Ali tucked close against her body.
“Helene.”
“Another Shield?” Maka’s thoughts are incredulous. “What have you committed us to?”
The child is not alone in the safety of Helene’s embrace. Through her translucent inner wings, Damien identifies the form of Brielle Matthews. The angel carries two.
“There are five of us, and only two of them,” Damien’s mind fights back. “It’s worth it.”
“You’d better hope so.”
C
anaan knows Javan’s a diversion, but he carries with him a human soul. A tortured, corrupted human soul, but valuable nonetheless. Still, the unpredictable pursuit takes Canaan farther and farther from the warehouse, and it’s not long before the Shield chooses to turn back. Leaving Helene four demons to contend with would yield a greater loss.
Not only that, but he’s left Jake and Brielle in danger for far too long. Determination speeds the angel’s wings, and the warehouse comes into view.
Jake is there. And Damien. But they’re not alone. Leaping from the building is an enormous demon, midnight black and menacing. Canaan recognizes him by description alone.
He is Maka. More rumor than anything else.
Maka’s massive wings expand and catch a gust of wind. He uses it to propel himself after two smaller demons, still substantial but not quite as large.
Canaan doesn’t recognize them, but they fly in uncommon unity, sharing the wind as they move this way and that.
The three demons fly at Helene, stationed not far away on the top of a neighboring building. She is dwarfed by the muscled bodies and immense wingspans diving at her, but Canaan judges their speed and is certain she’s faster. Her sword is drawn, and her hair flies about wildly. She turns to the north, over the river, and the demons follow.
She takes orders well and is providing a much needed distraction. While Damien is hardly the highest ranking demon present, Jake won’t be safe until Damien is sent to the pit. He has to be Canaan’s first priority. Damien’s eyesight, though weakened, should pick up the Shield’s approach any time. Canaan unsheathes his weapon and opens his mouth, releasing waves of praise. They reverberate across the heavens like a war cry.
Damien lifts his eyes, glancing from Jake to the angel’s flying form before launching himself into the sky and cutting off Canaan’s path. His stance is weak—he expects the Shield to slow.
But Canaan doesn’t.
The Shield lifts his sword to a hanging guard with the hilt by his ear and the tip of his sword aimed directly at Damien’s chest. The demon’s face registers alarm, and he dives to the side, swinging his scimitar recklessly. It misses. Canaan’s sword, however, catches the wrist joint of Damien’s wing. It snaps, and the feathers sizzle as the white light of Canaan’s sword singes through them. Damien spins as he grapples with the imbalance. He falls several hundred feet before finally digging his talons into the side of a telephone pole to slow his fall.
Canaan knows he isn’t out of the battle, but he takes advantage of Damien’s drop and hovers over the roof of the warehouse where Jake sits alone in the rain. His knees are drawn up, and his head is bowed between them in prayer. The battle rages around him unseen, and as Canaan slows his wings and sets down he can hear Jake fighting with the only weapon at the boy’s disposal.
“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places . . .”
Canaan transfers to the Terrestrial and pulls Jake to his feet.
“That was you, then?” Jake asks, relief in his words, on his face.
“What was me?”
“You took the child,” he says. “That was you.”
“The child?”
Jake swipes at the rain running down his face and squares his shoulders. “Damien doesn’t just know about me. He knows about Brielle. He knows about the halo . . .”
Canaan is chagrined that he didn’t consider it before. “Of course,” he says. “The cemetery.” He places his hands on Jake’s shoulders—shoulders weighted with such a hefty burden. “It’s my fault, and I am so sorry.”
They stand facing one another—the Shield and his charge. Words can’t erase their mistakes, and they know it. Damien must be defeated. He must be sent to the pit. There’s no other way.
“Where is Brielle?”
“Inside.”
Canaan moves his powerful Celestial eyes over the rooms below. “She’s not inside, Jake.” He realizes, too late, he’s spoken the worst words possible.
Jake blanches and sputters, “Then I don’t . . . I don’t . . .”
“Helene,” Canaan says. “She must have Brielle. You said something about a child?”
“Yes, a little girl. Someone cloaked her, took her. If it wasn’t you . . .”
“Then it has to be Helene.” Canaan is certain, but as the realization sets in, he struggles to stay in his Terrestrial form. Helene has two charges tucked to her body, and she is being chased by three demons.
“We have to go,” he says.
He wraps Jake tight to his frame and transfers to the Celestial.
W
e dip toward the roof, and a gust of wind fills my mouth as Helene opens her wings and closes them. So fast, so deft. And then the child is next to me, trembling and bleeding.
Helene’s voice sounds in my head. “Hold her tight, Brielle. She needs you.”
We’re crammed so close I can’t move to hug Ali, but I squirm until I’m able to wrap my hand around hers. Her head is sideways against Helene’s chest, her eyes on me. Tears and snot run down her face, but her eyes flutter, and the fear melts away. She’s succumbing to the heat and the peace of Helene’s embrace.
If she remembers anything of this night, I hope it’s this. This moment and nothing more.
The city flies by in a haze of lights.
And then I hear the demons.
Hissing and spitting.
Something grabs my shoe, but Helene’s grip is fast and she flies harder, pulling us away. Still, I feel air whip by now, on my shins and ankles, pressing against my pants. Have her wings been injured?
We fly in and among the buildings, dropping between skyscrapers, Helene’s outer wings pressing hard through the air. I hear the effort she’s expending, feel it in the shudder of her body.
And then something sharp rakes my leg. I drop at least a foot as Helene’s grip on me loosens. The child slides lower and lower as we fly. I tighten my left hand in hers and wrap my right arm tight about Helene’s waist. Her grip is loose, so loose.
I pinch my eyes shut and wish for ground. Dirt and grass. Rock. Mud. Anything but sky.
My feet hit something hard, and I open my eyes. Before me is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen. Scarier than Damien in the graveyard. Scarier than the demon I saw earlier in the warehouse. This one is massive. Thick and muscled. His wings hold him before me, flapping in the Celestial. They whip up a wind that smells of death and decay.
Helene swings her sword at him. She’s not doing much damage, but she’s keeping him at bay. I tighten my grip on her waist, my grip on the child. I can do nothing but hold on.
And then two more demons show up. Still large, but thinner than the beast before me. They fly back and forth in a sort of dance, making stabbing attempts with their strange-looking weapons.
Helene’s better with the sword and disarms both of them before they do much damage. But still they keep coming. With their ugly, gnarled hands. Sharp talons slice at us, at Helene’s outer wings. They make strange noises, cruel and inhuman, but I can see the fear in their eyes. Of her sword. Of an angel not even half their size.
Still, Helene’s not going to make it much longer. Her inner wings hang in ruined tatters, and snowy white feathers are hacked away in bunches. I chance a look down.
There’s no way we’ll survive this fall.
And then Canaan blasts through the wall next to us. His arms high over his head, Jake crushed to his chest. He brings his sword down hard on the nearest demon, slicing through his shoulder and chest in a diagonal movement. The demon screams as the two pieces of his flailing form linger in midair, burning like the smoldering remains of a campfire. The smell of sulfur burns my nostrils as the brilliant light of the Celestial swallows what’s left of him.
There are still two more demons, but my eyes are on Jake. His hands are pressed against Canaan’s inner wings, and his white eyes stare into mine. They are light and life and hope and . . .
Panic.
His eyes trail to the girl hanging from my arm. I realize now how tired I am, how much my arm aches, but I won’t let go. I know that.
Canaan turns, lifting his sword.
“Back up.” His voice is loud in my mind. So much louder than Helene’s.
Is she still humming?
“I said back up.” Canaan looks from one demon to the other.
The gigantic one raises his hands, his weapon held tightly. He moves back a pace, casting an authoritative glance at the demon on his left. He, too, retreats.
For a moment they all stare.
And then the big one lunges, swinging his crooked sword at Canaan. There’s a decisive clang, and Canaan beats his wings hard, shoving him back. And then his elbow comes up, and he smacks the demon in the face with the hilt of his sword.
The demon roars and swings his crooked sword again and again. He’s larger, but Canaan’s faster, and though the demon’s sword could devastate, it never touches the Shield.