Blood Redemption (Angel's Edge #3) (33 page)

Then some unseen force threw me backward on my ass.

Ethan was there in an instant. He knelt over me, blocking out the trees that towered overhead. Weak sunlight filtered down, creating a kind of halo around his head while dried out pine needles poked me in the neck. My leather jacket provided extra padding so the ground wasn’t that uncomfortable.

“Are you all right?” he asked, a deep frown etched across his features. “Jacob really did tell me it wouldn’t hurt. I would never have let you go in, otherwise.”

I took a minute to assess my condition. I was winded, but that was really all. I flexed my fingers and toes. Everything seemed to be working just fine, but Ethan’s light blue-green eyes flashed with worry anyway. It took a second for me to find my voice.

“I’m fine,” I said, and remembered the gentle voice in my head, warning me to stay away from the barrier. I grinned. “It was kind of neat, actually. Like being wrapped in cotton.” I brushed pine needles off my hands. “Until it threw me out, that is,” I corrected, and started to sit up.

Ethan restrained me with a single hand on my breastbone. “Wait just a moment,” he said. A slight tightening of the skin around his eyes, a sharpening of his gaze, told me something important was on his mind. “I need to tell you something. But first…”

He loomed above me, blocking out the world, and my senses were filled with nothing but Ethan. His hands moved until they rested on my shoulders, not so much holding me still as bracing himself. His kiss was gentle at first, his lips resting warm and firm against mine. Then it grew more demanding, more desperate, as he opened his mouth to me and kissed me hungrily. I could sense the tension in him, and I wanted nothing more than to soothe it away. I pulled him down to the forest floor beside me and turned on my side to face him, never breaking our kiss.

His hands came down to rest on my hips, his fingers tightening on my jeans. Our kisses became more desperate, needier, as he skimmed the side of my waist under my shirt. A gasp escaped my lips as he stroked the sensitive skin of my stomach, and I dug my fingers into the small of his back as tightly as I could. He pressed against me, against the entire length of me, and my name escaped his lips with a sigh.

“My Caspia,” he murmured, planting kisses down the side of my face. “I wanted to tell you that I would die if I lost you.”

“I’m right here,” I said, scratching his stomach lightly with my nails. He gasped and nipped my lower lip with his teeth. “I’m not going anywhere.” I pulled away from him just long enough to slip out of my jacket, making a kind of blanket on the forest floor. Then I dragged his lips back to mine, fitting my body against his. He wrapped me in the curve of his arms and rolled until I was trapped beneath him.

“I love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. I slipped my hands between us and moved them lower. I had the satisfaction of watching his blue-green eyes widen with desire.

“I love you too,” I told him, and it was the last thing either of us said for a while.

Belial’s army came at dawn.

Bain had dropped his personal wards around his property. We were, after all, trying to lead the hostile forces toward us and away from the town. But he must have retained some kind of security forces because an alarm began to sound all throughout the house. Ethan and I fumbled into our clothes and trooped out onto the porch like the rest of the household. We never let go of each other’s hands. We wore leather jackets that could have been twins and were, in reality, so much more. In a move that both surprised and alarmed me, Jack had insisted that Ethan keep his armor.

“I have the Shadows,” he’d said with a grin. “And Caspia. Together, we have plenty of protection.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I was grateful for the gift, so I didn’t say anything.

At first, it only looked like the forest to the west had grown extra shadows. Dark splotches appeared between random trees, but unlike ordinary shadows, these didn’t move at all. The forest filled up with a growing number of unmoving figures until it looked more like a solid line of black than a bunch of trees gathered together.

Then they began to emerge, leaving the shelter of the forest for the wide open meadow.

The silver trim of their uniforms shone brilliantly in the fiery orange of the rising sun. In the light it was easier to make out individual figures, although they were still much too far away for me to see who they actually were yet. They moved with lock step precision, bleeding out of the cover of the trees and converging just beyond the ring of the forest.

After a few moments, I began to be able to identify individual shapes in the distance. I didn’t like what I saw. Some figures, impossibly tall, towered over others while more seemed hunchbacked or somehow misshapen. Some seemed to be a normal size, but carried what looked like huge battle axes and other weapons. Many sported dark wings on their backs, and I suppressed a jolt of fear. I knew these were the Fallen who had flocked to Belial’s side. I just hadn’t expected there to be so many of them; they speckled the meadow like hundreds of dark stars. They came from the forest holding their weapons or merely slinking along as if they were in no hurry at all.

Belial’s forces stopped several feet from the forest’s edge, forming a sort of crescent shape. The very middle was empty, and I didn’t have to wonder why for long. The last group emerged only after the impressive ring of forces was in place. I had been waiting for them; I was anxious, after all, to see just how many of the Nephilim Gifted Belial had brought. The Gifted melted out of the trees with none of the military precision of the regular soldiers. Instead, they came forward in pairs and small groups to stand in the dead center of Belial’s army.

I counted about twenty in all, way fewer than I had been expecting. These Gifted wore the same black and silver uniforms that had once been so familiar to me, except for one key difference: they had dark scarlet cloaks draped from their shoulders. When they walked, it looked as if they were wrapped in old blood. Tactically, it seemed an odd choice. The bright red dripping from their uniforms would surely identify them for what they were to the armies of the Light. And that would make them the angel’s immediate target. What could Belial possibly be thinking?

“At least we’ll know who’s who,” Jack said at my shoulder.

“That’s what bothers me,” Ethan replied, straining forward to get a better look. “Why would he mark his prize fighters like that?” He shook his head. “It makes no sense. The Belial I knew was a much better tactician than that.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about how our plan included sending Jack and me, along with Logan and Ethan, out into the middle of things to act as bait. The word kept rattling around in my head like an annoying, buzzing insect: bait. Then it hit me. Belial was using the same tactic. He
wanted
to draw attention to the Gifted members of his army. He
wanted
them to be singled out by Whitfield’s forces and the Light’s. That had to be the answer, but why? What did he have to gain by doing that?

“He intends to sacrifice them,” I said, the thought hitting me all at once. “He doesn’t care if they live or die. He just knows they’ll draw the Light right into the middle of his forces.” I was angry. Thermonuclear angry. Shadows rolled just beneath the surface of my palms, waiting to be unleashed. I thought of the Nephilim I knew personally, the ones he had kidnapped against their will. I still had a secret hope that we would be able to free some of them and get them back to their normal lives. I know Jack felt the same way. After all, it was only a combination of luck and circumstance that allowed me to be standing here and not with them right now.

“Oh, he cares,” Jack said slowly. His hand settled on my upper arm, firm and reassuring. The Shadows settled at his touch. “Belial knows they’re powerful weapons; he’s probably using them more as a trap, positioned as they are in the dead center of his forces. But he won’t hesitate to sacrifice any of his individual pieces in order to win the larger game. And that does include the Nephilim.” His hair fell across his forehead as he lowered his eyes. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It looks like something’s happening,” Logan said from behind me. I spun to give my big brother a hug. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in days instead of just hours. He grinned at me and gave me a condescending pat on the head. I used to hate it when he did that. Now it just made me want to hug him harder. He ruffled my hair and pointed. “Look.”

I did. Logan was right; Belial’s Gifted Nephilim were separating right down the middle, leaving a space of several feet between them. A large figure, dressed totally in black, emerged from the tree line. At first I couldn’t tell who, or what, it was. But then the largest, darkest abyss wings I had ever seen flared into life, edged with flames.

Belial.

He didn’t stop to speak to anyone else. Instead, he walked straight out from the rest of his forces and headed toward the middle of the meadow. Two figures broke away from the others and followed him: one very large and inhuman looking being toting an axe and one Nephilim swathed in scarlet. The three converged on the empty space and stood there, waiting. But for what?

“He wants to speak with us,” Ethan said softly with an edge of something bitter to his voice. “He wants us to send a delegation out to talk to him.”

“Where’s his white flag of truce?” I asked. I was all about the sarcasm this morning, apparently.

Ethan ignored me, his attention fixed on his demon brother.

“Are you certain?” Mrs. Alice asked. She and the other Guardians were standing several feet away. Ethan nodded his assent, and Mrs. Alice sighed. “We’ll gather the Guardians and go out to him, then,” she said, resigned. But my boyfriend held up his hand.

“No.” His tone was as forceful as I had ever heard. “He’s my brother. He wants to talk to me.” I turned to him quizzically, but he just shook his head. “Don’t ask me how I know. Call it a family connection.” His eyes had a faraway look to them, and I wondered if he was seeing into the bloody past, or the uncertain future.

“I’m going with you,” I announced, and to my surprise, Ethan didn’t object. “I have weapons that can hurt him. Bad.” I fingered my daggers, sheathed at my waist underneath my leather jacket.

“So do you, Ethan,” Jack said, holding out his sword hilt first. “I sent it to you, after all.” He flexed his tattooed arms and grinned. “Besides, we don’t want you going out there unprotected.”

“Just a moment,” Bain said, kneeing his way through the gathered crowd. “This is my Gate, after all. I insist on going as well.”

Inwardly, I groaned. That was the last thing on Earth I wanted. But he did have a point. I knew if it had been my land and home I would have wanted the same thing. Mrs. Alice looked at the three of us and gave a reluctant nod.

“I suppose you three will do,” she said. “Bain, at the first sign of treachery, you know what has to be done.”

Bain gave her a curt nod. I wondered what she meant, but didn’t ask. Hopefully we wouldn’t have to find out. Ethan took a moment to belt on Jack’s sword. Logan gave me a kiss on the very top of my head. It always made me feel so short when he did that, but this time, I welcomed the gesture.

“Be careful,” he whispered, and wrapped me in a tight hug. I buried my face in his chest and hoped this wasn’t the last time I got a chance to hug my brother. Then Ethan and I followed Bain off the porch and into the early morning sunlight to go and meet a demon.