Authors: L. A. Banks
To the dismay of
everyone on the bus except Kadeem and Muneer, their party had increased by another mortal man. But Kadeem’s and Muneer’s argument held weight. Muneer had a weapon, a pretty good one, which could be retrofitted with angel-blessed shells on the way. His AK-47 added to the arsenal of nine-millimeters the brothers carried in their waistbands. Every woman was packing now, too, just in case. Kadeem knew the driving terrain and could get to the small port quickly, plus the man was an expert at navigating the dangerous cataracts and eddies should they encounter any, in the Nile. Muneer, quite simply, knew where the treasure was dropped. That settled it.
But two and a half hours to get to a place where they could acquire a vessel, a half hour of haggling and finding the right craft for the job—one that the owner would not come along on, with at least another hour on the water, put them at the very vulnerable hour past sunset. The brothers would have to go trawling for the chest in near blue-black river water.
“It was right here,” Muneer said as Kadeem maneuvered the craft into position.
Celeste’s gaze followed Muneer’s outstretched arm. Daoud couldn’t have picked a more beautiful resting place for the sacred tablet. Breathtaking temples nestled high on
the steep banks of Syenite stone and kept watch over the Nile with graceful colonnades and tall pylons.
With a weary sigh, Bath Kol started taking off his Timberlands, then stripped his shirt off and placed his gun on the boat bench. The other brothers followed suit, studying the ripples on the water and dark shoreline like Navy SEALs.
“Be sure to light it up when we go down there,” Azrael warned, then slapped Paschar in the center of his chest with a broad palm. “You and Gav are boat security.” He gave the key that was on a long metal dog-tag chain back to Kadeem, looping it over his head, then pointed with two fingers toward Bath Kol and Isda. “You take port side, I’ll take starboard.”
“And you ladies can hold it down with some serious prayer,” Bath Kol said, looking back at the darkening sky.
“Done,” Aziza murmured, then slipped one hand into Celeste’s palm and another into Maggie’s. Maggie in turn grabbed Melissa’s hand.
The three divers sat on the edge of opposite sides of the boat for a moment, then inhaled deeply and went over the side backward.
“They don’t need oxygen?” Muneer said, amazed.
“They’re angels,” Kadeem replied with confidence, but still peered over the side in awe.
Balancing out their weight after their prayer, the women split into two groups to watch over the side of the vessel. Soon Celeste could see a blue-white glow moving under the water. The eerie light looked thoroughly extraterrestrial from where she stood, and she doubted any Nile
crocs would go near the strange beings that had invaded their habitat.
Bath Kol came up and sucked in a huge inhale but shook his head.
“Told you to stop smoking,” Gavreel said, smiling.
Bath Kol gave him the finger and went down again. Muneer stared at Kadeem, clearly shocked.
“These angels aren’t the ones with harps and cherub’s cheeks,” Paschar said through a chuckle. “They may be colorful, but they get the job done.”
More than forty-five minutes went by with the brothers intermittently surfacing for air, shaking their heads no, and diving again. Silent worry began to set in, and night rolled a blanket of dark-blue velvet over the sky, then punctuated the late hour with moonlight and twinkling stars.
“Water can make things drift—” Kadeem said, accepting one of Muneer’s cigarettes.
Nerves on end, Celeste looked at Kadeem’s cigarette as he took a drag, almost needing one herself. Three months clean felt like a lifetime.
“I’ve got almonds in my bag,” Aziza said calmly, giving Celeste a meaningful look.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a flask in there, too, would you?” Melissa said, lifting her hair off her neck.
Maggie dropped forward to lean on her knees. “What if they can’t find it?”
“Plan B, I guess,” Celeste said, staring at the lights in the water.
“What’s Plan B?” Maggie looked up.
“Armageddon,” Paschar said flatly.
“Would you allow
me
to dispense the peace on the ship?” Gavreel said, punching Paschar in the arm.
“Ow! Well, it’s the truth.” Paschar rubbed his arm.
“Truth doesn’t always inspire peace, dude. So, if you can’t say something positive, just chill.”
But as three lights flowed together under the surface of the water on Celeste’s side of the boat, she stood. “They’re coming up!”
B
ent over the side
of the boat, her heart beating a mile a minute, expectation mixed with adrenaline, Celeste held her breath. The wind had kicked up, blowing the first cool breeze she’d felt since they’d arrived in Egypt. But the hair also stood up on the back of her neck.
As the wind kicked up behind her, she glanced over her shoulder at the same time Gavreel, Paschar, and Aziza turned. In the distance small sand dervishes had begun to form on the steps of the temple, and an unnatural wind moved the lush palms and thick green foliage on the bank.
Gavreel and Paschar went to the opposite side of the boat, straining to see, causing the others to divide their attention between the brothers coming up from beneath the water’s surface and the riverbank.
“This happens all the time,” Muneer assured them.
“Small sandstorms. This is the
holy
island of Philae, the Pearl of Egypt, and it is why Daoud chose this place.”
“But the original island is the one that was holy. That one was flooded when they put in Aswan Dam. This one wasn’t the site of thousands of years of sacred prayers, so they must have had to put down prayers to protect it,” Ka-deem said quickly, glancing between the angel brothers and his friend Muneer. “The government dismantled the entire temple and rebuilt it here. If my brother dropped his chest here because he thought prayer of the land and water protected it, that barrier had been disturbed years ago. Tell me he consecrated the grounds again.”
Gavreel and Paschar took one look at each other and then shouted in unison, “Incoming!”
“Down, down, everybody get down!” Gavreel shouted, taking to the air with his nine-millimeter drawn.
Paschar went up on the top of the boat’s pilothouse roof, guarding the human passengers with his gun and Bath Kol’s in his hands. But as soon as he had, a huge tail slammed against the side of the vessel and sent everyone sprawling.
A massive croc with red, gleaming eyes and twice the size of the boat disappeared under the surface as Muneer scrambled to his feet and grabbed his weapon to begin squeezing off rounds. Suddenly the air was filled with leather-winged gargoyles that screeched and dove at Gavreel as he fired at them, using two hands, to blow them out of the air.
Beasts with clenched, yellowed teeth swooped down, eyes gleaming red in contorted, flesh-ravaged faces. The
smell of sulfur polluted the air in their wake, as gray-green bodies tried to slash and grab at the boat’s inhabitants with razor-sharp claws and bull-whipping spaded tails.
Using both hands, Celeste, Maggie, and Aziza popped off rounds, splattering demon gook everywhere and making it rain black and green.
“That thing in the water!” Melissa screamed, then blindly squeezed off rounds at it over the side of the vessel. “How can that be? It’s holy water!”
“Natural beast with something inside it,” Paschar said, then looked at Muneer. “It can die from normal bullets—stay on it!” Then he joined Gavreel in the aerial offensive, trying to keep the mass of gargoyles from reaching the boat.
An army of hooded demons bearing scythes and blades erupted from the sand and shore. Nothing was in the hoods but dark, skeletal faces and red, gleaming eyes. Their haggard hands were weathered gray-green skin that peeled away to expose claws and bones. Kadeem pushed Muneer down just in time to miss a whirling scythe that would have taken both of their heads, as Celeste and her sisters flattened themselves to the deck and kept their heads down.
To Celeste’s horror, she saw a chest rise to the edge of the boat above her. She would know the hands that held it anywhere. Risking it all, she lifted her head and scrambled toward the surfacing Azrael and leaned over the side. He came up with Bath Kol and Isda and sucked in a huge inhale.
“We’re under attack!” she shouted, trying to help drag
the chest over the edge of the boat so they could get out of the water to fight.
It only took a second, and with a powerful upward thrust, all three brothers were out of the water and standing on the deck, wings spread, water cascading from their hair and over their heaving chests. Azrael dropped the heavy metal box that was crusted with river sediment and took three running steps to go airborne, battle-axes in his fists. Isda swooped in, relieving Muneer of his AK-47, and was right behind Bath Kol, who’d picked up Azrael’s nine-millimeter on the run.
But the huge beast in the water slammed the vessel again, sending the passengers sprawling and the chest sliding. Up and running toward it, Celeste went after the box, grabbed one of the heavy metal handles, then felt something slam into her back with such force her vision went black.
Agonizing current traveled swiftly up her spine and terminated at the top of her skull, making it feel as if the top of her head would explode. Something icy had wrapped around her entire body, burning her and freezing her at the same time. It was as though she’d been lassoed by a dark-energy current that had a paralyzing effect. No matter how hard she fought against it, she couldn’t move—just felt the painful electric shock convulsing her body and limbs. Then she was moving so fast that it stripped the air from her lungs. In the distance reaches of her mind she heard her sisters screaming
no.
Could see Azrael turn in the air in the midst of battle and throw a battle-ax while yelling her name.
She hit a hardwood floor with a thud, coughing and
sputtering and trying to stand up. But something held her that felt as if a thousand ants were eating her skin. As soon as she drew in a good enough inhale, she screamed and forced her eyes open. Hooded, scythe-clutching demons surrounded her. She covered her head with her arms, balling up to keep them from tearing at her stomach.
They didn’t attack her, just smiled and hissed, their decomposing, skeletal faces oozing with gore and maggots as they slowly parted. The handsome dark angel that she’d seen before stood over her with his raven-hued wings extended. Instinctively she knew he was the leader. She remembered him in her mind as the Roman with his once-flawless features and dark-olive complexion and thicket of dark-brown, wavy hair.
But after the battle in Philadelphia, he was marred, and that gave her some small measure of satisfaction. They could be hurt and had been hurt. The side of his face was badly burned, and he smiled at her as his demons cut open with their scythes the chest she’d been trying to save.
A blond fallen angel, the one that had first attacked Azrael in Philadelphia at the library, was there, too. The tall, platinum blond with a husky’s eyes walked closer to her. She’d know him anywhere; would never forget his cruel grin. What looked like a female vampire laughed at her when she tried to scramble backward to get away from them, but hit a wall instead.
“Thank you,” the dark one she remembered was named Asmodeus crooned. “You’ve brought me what I’ve been looking for.”
Confusion tore at her mind as she stared at Asmodeus’s pitch-black eyes.
The blond laughed without sound, just baring razor-sharp fangs. “You touched the brass key at the monument at Abu Simbel … you knew we had guards posted everywhere. All we needed was one more tracker to bring us to this.”
Asmodeus backed up and lifted a linen-covered, square object from the heavy metal chest as the woman who’d taunted her drew in close to him while he unwrapped it. The blond stood off a bit, his eyes suddenly turning black and hungry as he craned his neck to see.
Despite her terror, the book made Celeste gape. Asmodeus gloated over his find as iridescent colors swirled over the surface crystal. Even from where she sat on the floor, she could see the heavily inscribed gold shining through the thick crystal enclosure.
“Bring me the key,” Asmodeus ordered, stroking the heavy tome as one would caress a lover.
A demon behind him hissed, “There is no key, milord.”
Asmodeus spun around and looked at the blond warrior. “What do you mean there is no key? This sacred book cannot be accessed through the crystal without the blessed key!” Suddenly he whirled on Celeste as the female fallen and blond fallen warriors backed up. “Where is my key?”
Celeste lifted her chin, suddenly understanding that the key wasn’t for the metal box. That was sealed and the key to that discarded. What Muneer had worn around his neck was the key to the actual book itself. A slow, angry smile tugged at Celeste’s cheek as she looked up at both fallen angels that were surrounded by hooded demons. The lie formed in her mind quickly, to her great satisfaction.
“The last time I saw it, the key was around
Azrael’s
neck.”