A Gift of Wings (41 page)

When Lucky responded with a strangled half-laugh half-sob, Mo threw her arms around her and pulled her close. She offered no further comment as she held on to Lucky, her embrace conveying all her love and support.

Lucky felt a chill creep up her spine and was already withdrawing from her friend’s arms when Kev’s muttered curse reached her ears. Something that looked like fog was filling the restaurant. Standing at the door and staring through a gap in the fog-like substance were two large, winged beings, garbed in some kind of chain mail and armed with gleaming swords. Their eyes, notably silver even from this distance, held the coldest expression she had ever seen.

“Powers,” Aidan and Kev said simultaneously.

Leaping to their feet, they positioned themselves between the two girls and the cold, silver beings, each raising a hand, into which appeared a flaming weapon. Aidan held what looked to be the same fiery sword he had wielded the night he fought the shadow creatures and the gray-haired man. Kev held a broadsword.

“What are they doing?” Mo asked in alarm, her fingers clenching on Lucky’s arm. “Lucky, what’s going on? Why do Aidan and Kev look like there’s about to be a fight?”

“Because there is,” Lucky said, pulling her friend out of the booth and drawing her into a crouch behind the two Nephilim. She understood that Mo couldn’t see the fog or the two beings—“Powers,” Kev and Aidan had called them. She remembered enough of her Catholic school theology classes to know that Powers, like Cherubim and Seraphim, were angels, but that was all she knew. From the looks of things, though, these angels weren’t on their side. Odds were good that they were among those who thought allowing one of Lilith’s blood to go through the Making was a really bad idea. Even while she berated herself for bringing Mo into this, she was edging them toward the back of the restaurant.

“Get them out the back way,” Kev said to Aidan, jerking his head toward the girls. “I’ll handle Tweedledum and Tweedledee. At least long enough to take this outside.”

Then he lunged toward the two Powers, the broadsword and a shield that had suddenly appeared in his empty hand, flashing. That was all Lucky saw before Aidan rushed her and Mo toward the back of the restaurant, through the kitchen, and out into the alley behind the building.

Once outside, they raced to the end of the alley, skirting around foul-smelling dumpsters and miscellaneous pieces of scattered refuse. They stopped at the alley’s end and peered around the corner back toward the front of the restaurant. Lucky could see that the street was filling up with white fog. She could hear the sharp clang of metal striking metal and the dull thuds of flesh impacting flesh. She hoped Kev was holding his own against the Powers. She didn’t doubt that he was strong and skilled, but there were two of them to his one.

Aidan’s voice cut through her worries. “Across the street,” he said. “See that abandoned church? That’s a safe house. If we can get you inside, they can’t reach you there.”

“
Angels
can’t get inside a
church
?” she asked.

“Not this one. Zeke’s warded it against everything but specific members of the Fallen. I used to be one of them. Let’s hope Zeke didn’t revoke my access when I renounced my wings.”

“When you
what
?” Lucky asked.

“Another time,” Aidan said. “Now, you and Mo need to run as fast as you can across the street and to the church. I’ll be right behind you. Go!”

Her hand clenched around Mo’s, Lucky ran. She resisted the urge to look back, even when she heard the sound of steel on steel close behind her and realized Aidan was fending off an attacker. They had reached the sidewalk in front of the church when she heard Aidan’s cry. “NO!”

Pain sliced through her middle, and she looked down in blank surprise to see a blood-covered sword protruding from her abdomen. She heard Mo screaming her name as if from a distance and opened her mouth to say—something—but then she fell forward. The last thing she felt was the sword retracing its path through her body as she slid off of it onto the wet concrete of the sidewalk.

***

As Kev launched himself at the two huge angels flanking the doorway of the diner, he pushed all worries about his brother and the two girls to the back of his mind. The key to being an excellent warrior was the ability to focus on the matter at hand, eliminating all distractions while taking in everything with direct bearing on the immediate situation. And right now, concern for Lucky and her friend was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He’d left Aidan to protect the girls, and he had to trust his brother to do his job. His own task was either to kill the two angelic thugs or to wound them badly enough that they’d dematerialize back to the coldest reaches of the Heavens from whence they’d come—where they could await the wrath of the Archangel Uriel.

Warding off their blows with the shield he’d called as he leapt toward them, he swung the heavy broadsword with a lethal grace that belied its weight. He felt the impact in his shoulder as the weapon struck against the nearly impenetrable chain mail of one of the Powers. Focused as he was on the fight, it was as if time slowed for him. He knew each move they would make before they made it and so was able to maneuver them out the door and onto the street in a matter of moments. Still, he had to take some body blows to make it happen. He chose those with care, ensuring that he was struck only by a fist or the broad side of a sword. He let the shield absorb the bites of the swords’ keen edges. He’d definitely be bruised, but if he could help it, he wasn’t going to be blooded by one of the deadly blades.

Once outside he was free to move more aggressively as were his opponents. The white fog filling the street would hide them from human senses just as it had in the restaurant. People passing by would avoid the site of the battle without even being aware they had done so. Even so, taking the combat off street level seemed the best plan. The farther he could get the Powers away from Aidan and the girls, the better chance they’d have to get to safety. Shield up to defend his left side, Kev ducked a blow aimed at his right and felt the heavy weight of his wings as they settled into place. Shifting the huge appendages out of the range of the Powers’ weapons, he shot upward, his own sword flashing out to slice against the neck of one of his opponents.

Growling his rage, the Power surged after him. Just as Kev had hoped, anger made the angel careless. Kev dodged a blow leveled with more strength than skill, and the angel was knocked off balance when his strike failed to impact a target. Flexing one wing to circle around behind the Power, Kev swung his broadsword with enough force to cut through the angel’s neck. Golden ichor flowed from the wound for the second or so it took the head to fall free. Then both head and body disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a slight golden shimmer that was already fading as Kev turned his attention toward the second angel—who hadn’t followed him into the air.

No, he was still at street level, exchanging blows with Aidan, while Lucky and Mo ran toward the safe house on the other side of Blackstone. As Kev dived toward the street, he saw a third angel materialize right behind Lucky. Before he could begin to reach her, the angel’s sword had already run her through. Aidan’s cry was still echoing in his ears as Lucky fell forward off the sword, and her assailant dematerialized.

CHAPTER 27

Cursing himself as twenty times an idiot, Kev dropped to the ground at Lucky’s side, disappearing his wings as his feet touched down. He should have realized the first two Powers were themselves the distraction, meant to capture his and Aidan’s attention while someone else got to Lucky.

Behind him, he could still hear Aidan’s sword as he battled the remaining Power. Scooping Lucky into his arms, he ran to the door of the abandoned Christian Scientist church, Mo hard on his heels. He had to hand it to the blonde girl. He could see the terror on her face, but she wasn’t screaming, and she seemed to be as focused as he was on getting her wounded friend to safety. Repositioning Lucky so he could cradle her against him with just one arm, he held up his right palm, hardly noticing the slight burn as his sigil activated. He pressed his palm against the locked door, which opened almost as soon as it felt his touch. Bless Zeke for realizing the need for safe houses.

Lucky moaned as he shifted her weight onto both arms once more. He took it as a positive sign: she still lived at least. Mo swung the door shut behind them, and Kev cursed aloud. Dim light filtered through the grime-covered windows high in the walls of the church. Shifting Lucky into one arm again, he summoned his flaming broadsword once more. Not exactly a torch, but almost as effective. At least it would provide enough illumination for them to find a light switch. Zeke would have made sure the safe house had electricity.

“There,” Mo said, moving toward the switch even as she spoke. As she flipped the switch, illuminating the bulbs high overhead, Kev released the sword, allowing it to return to the great ethereal weapons room it called home until he needed it again.

“What happened to her anyway?” Mo asked in a shaky voice. “We were running and then—there was all this blood—and she fell.”

It took Kev a moment to realize that the girl wouldn’t have been able to see the Power or his sword. To her it must have seemed as if the wound just suddenly appeared on her friend’s body.

“She was stabbed,” he said. “By a Power—a kind of angel—who apparently didn’t want her to go through the Making.”

“That’s who you and Aidan were fighting?”

Kev nodded, his eyes scanning the room.

Since the dusty wooden pews looked narrow and uncomfortable, he decided the floor would suit their purposes just as well—even though it was cold stone and none too clean. He knelt, laying Lucky on the floor as gently as he could. He had slipped out of his jacket and was folding it into a pillow for her, when he heard the door open and Aidan’s running footsteps on the stone floor.

“The Power?” he asked, glancing at his brother.

“Beheaded.” Aidan knelt beside him. “How is she?”

“She’s breathing,” Kev said. With gentle hands, he lifted her blood-soaked clothing away from her skin.

“The sword went straight through her.” Aidan’s voice was choked.

“I know,” Kev said, stripping off his shirt. “Get Zeke.”

As Aidan made the call, Kev ripped his shirt into pieces. Folding two of the fragments into thick pads, he instructed Mo to press one against the wound in Lucky’s back while he lifted her. Together he and Mo slid a longer strip of fabric beneath Lucky’s body before he lay her back down. After placing the other pad over the wound in her abdomen, Kev tied the ends of the long strip together to hold the bandages in place.

“Zeke’s on his way,” Aidan said, returning to his brother’s side, “and he’s summoning Uriel.”

“Good.” The grimness in Kev’s voice belied the word.

If Lucky had been stabbed with a normal weapon, her wounds would be bad enough. As it was, he wasn’t sure there was anything they could do to save her. It wasn’t just the blood loss or the damage the edge of the blade could do. The angelic metal itself could be deadly—especially so to a human, even a hybrid like Lucky. If she had been part angel instead of part demon—or whatever she was—she might have been able to withstand it better. Since she wasn’t, the poisons from the metal would already be moving through her bloodstream, making their way through her system and killing her organs as they went.

Lucky moaned again, and he and Aidan each took one of her hands in theirs, while Mo stroked her friend’s hair back from her damp forehead and murmured soothing words.

Only a few moments had passed since Aidan had called the Cherub, but it felt like forever to Kev before Zeke appeared in the dusty sanctuary. Presumably due to his worry and haste, the angel wasn’t enveloped in his usual human glamour, and Kev found it hard to look on his shifting form, as bull, man, lion, and eagle intermingled amid multiple pairs of great blue wings.

“Zeke, please,” he said, averting his eyes.

“My apologies,” Zeke resonated, as he knelt beside him, a long-haired man in khakis once more, his efficient hands already moving over Lucky as he examined her wounds.

Mo gasped, and Kev realized that she must have been able to see Zeke only after he took his human form. Just as well, really. The poor girl had been through enough this evening.

A blinding light suddenly filled the sanctuary, so bright it blocked out not only the pews, walls, and grimy windows but also Lucky and the other people kneeling around her. Kev could see nothing but the brilliance of the light itself, and he had to close his eyes against that. When he sensed the light dimming and opened them once more, he saw that Mo had collapsed to the floor. He moved to check her pulse, but Zeke’s voice stopped him. “I thought it best that she not be conscious while the Archangels are present.”

Kev nodded and contented himself with repositioning the girl’s limbs, so she wouldn’t be too stiff and uncomfortable when she awakened. Then the full impact of the Cherub’s words struck him.
“Archangels?”