Hellsbane Hereafter (12 page)

“Who told you that?” Someone had totally blown my cover with the kid. Who? Or more importantly, why?

“The angels who visit me. The one who told me you’d come to protect me. When I found out you were just a chick, I got worried. He told me you were supposed to be some kind of supernatural badass.”

Is it wrong that I liked that description?

“So why can’t you feel the angels?” he asked.

I looked away. It was a good question. If I’d been truly gibborim, my mark would turn to ice, freezing straight through skin and bone to warn me if a seraph was near. As an illorum, the Fallen would trigger the warning alarm, making my mark burn like a hot iron against my skin. But I wasn’t illorum anymore, and I’d never really become a gibborim. I was somewhere in between, numb to both good and evil. I was useless.

“Listen, kid. There was no one in the lobby or outside the building when I came in.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’ll be fine. Why would angels be after you, anyway?”

I knew why. But did he? Did he know the angels he’d befriended were Fallen? I had a feeling the kid knew a lot more than he let on.

“How should I know?” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and scratched his head. “Maybe they’re pissed that the other angels are talking to me.”

“Right.”

“Were you even looking for them when you came up?”

No.
Since the day I’d picked up Tommy’s sword and become an illorum, I’d honed my instinct to be alert for Fallen and their demon minions. It never occurred to me to search for seraphim. Some protector I turned out to be.

I hadn’t felt a thing—hadn’t sensed anything supernatural. Could I have missed my old allies lying in wait for Jukar’s son? Maybe. If they’d stayed back just to lure me in. But why? I wasn’t sure. No one was supposed to even know about Abram except Michael, although bragging about visits from angels on his internet videos might have drawn some attention. Were the seraphim just curious, like Dan’s magister, Ham? Or was there something more going on?

“Fine. We’ll take the stairs. Stay behind me, but watch your back.” I slammed my weight into the steel door’s long metal lever, shoving it open, the loud bang of the heavy-duty latch echoing off the cement block walls of the stairwell. We were only four flights up, and at each landing, tall windows opened onto the multi-level rooftop of the student union. The city campus lay beyond the rooftop in a wash of summer sun. My senses strained, trying to pick up on the slightest ripple that might warn me a seraph was near. But I couldn’t feel anything, not even a cool breeze.

We’d picked up speed by the time we turned to jog down to the third floor landing. So when I glanced ahead and met the hard white eyes of an angel, it took all the strength and agility I possessed to stop. Abram bumped into me before he could stop himself, but somehow I managed to keep us both on our feet.

“What do you want?” I asked the tall, golden-haired angel below, my hand already finding the hilt of my sword at my back.

The angel crossed his hand to his opposite hip and drew his sword. A smile that looked more ferocious than happy curved his mouth and made his eyes blaze. “The demi-arch. I’d hoped such an abomination would not be suffered to live. Father knows how you still stand before me.”

I shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“Move aside. I have no interest in you, except to end your traitorous soul if given the smallest excuse.”

“Wow. That’s harsh.”

His creepy gaze shifted past me to Abram, his hands longer than a normal man’s, face a little too oval, hair glittering down to the curve of his hips. He wore the familiar white Gi-style karate uniform seraphim warriors wore, and the blade of his sword glowed with power.

His attention shifted back to me. “You should show a seraph more respect, female.”

Yeah, I kind of thought the same thing, but I had that moron-seepage problem.
There oughta be a pill for that.

“Get me out of here, Ms. Hellsbane.” Abram tried to whisper and failed miserably.

“No,” the angel said. “You will come with me, son of perdition.”

Aw, hell. They knew who he was. Someone must be playing double agent. I mean, besides me.

“Who? Me? I’m not…” Abram swallowed his denial, his voice a little higher than normal. “What do you want with me?”

“Don’t be frightened.” Golden boy held out his free hand, his voice softening. “You will feel no pain.”

“Um, that’s not exactly a promise of safety. You seraphim are big on telling people what you won’t do just to avoid telling them what you will.” I edged to the side, putting more of myself between Abram and the angel, my blade solid and ready in my hand. “The kid’s staying with me.”

The bright, shiny angel flashed that hungry smile again. “I hoped you’d say that.”

Faster than anything had a right to move, the powerful angel attacked. His blade slammed into mine, driving me to the floor and knocking the air out of my lungs. The hard edge of the step punched into my spine, and the pain jolted through my body. He loomed over me, big and menacing, his feet straddling my sprawled legs.

He shifted his weight to swing at me again, and there wasn’t enough time or space to get my sword up to block. His blade sliced in a low arch, and at the last instant, I rolled to the side. The metal dug a trench in the step where my neck had been, a quick spray of sparks singeing my flesh. I had less than a heartbeat while he readjusted his weight, re-aiming his swing before my neck would be at risk again. I used that instant to teleport between his legs to the landing below.

No matter. He’d seen me move, tracked my slow pace compared to his own, and turned to meet me when I stopped. The big angel swung his blade, anticipating where my throat would be even before my body had stopped moving. I jerked back, too stunned to do anything more. It wasn’t enough.

The heavenly sharp tip traced along my flesh, cutting so fast it felt more like the swipe of a sewing needle. But I knew if I’d felt it at all, the wound could be fatal. I staggered back, my hand going to my neck.

Blood wet my palm, my racing heart pumping the vital fluid faster and faster through the clean, thin wound. The golden-haired angel stared at me, brows high in surprise. “You’re faster than I imagined. Interesting.”

“Lucky me.” My voice came as a rough croak, my throat burning. Too many memories of heads lolling off shoulders flashed through my mind, the victims seemingly unaware of how badly they’d been injured up until the very last minute. Was that me? Was I already dead and just didn’t know it yet?

A loud bang made us both look up to the landing above where Abram stood, opening the window, giving the heavy pane a final hard shove and pushing it up over his head. A warm breeze filled the stairwell, pressing his slacks and dress shirt to his body, making the ends of his reddish-blond hair flutter. He glanced over his shoulder at us, eyes wide, face pasty white, then he turned and jumped.

It was less than three stories from the window down to the roof of the student union lobby. I couldn’t be sure he’d landed well. Didn’t know if he’d find a way off the roof, find a way to escape. The angel looked back at me, indecision warring in his eerie white eyes.

He’d been sent to kidnap Abram, but he wanted to finish me more. I could see his need to rip me from the mortal coil I’d sullied with my existence tightening through every muscle.

Good news. It meant I wasn’t dead yet. And no way would I stand there and give him another swing at it.

Faster than I’d ever moved before, I teleported to the roof where Abram would’ve landed. I knew without looking the angel was hot on my heels—folding time and space, tracking me quicker than I could move or think.

Abram had managed the jump. I spotted him up ahead running full tilt toward the huge glass prism over the lobby. “Abram, no. Not that way.” The words were barely a whisper.

There was no way around the glass pyramid, and climbing over it would be too dangerous. But the kid was in a full-blown panic and running for his life. I could totally relate. I teleported to him just as he started the scramble up the glass roof.

Not my best plan. Our combined weight and the sonic impact from my speed shattered the huge square pane right under us. We dropped nearly thirty feet onto the lobby’s hard, polished floor, shattered glass raining down around us. The fall seemed to take forever, and I had the time and presence of mind to pull Abram to me, taking the full impact when we landed.

We were both nephilim, both the children of an archangel, but the perks of those two things hadn’t been activated in Abram. My body, thanks to the supernatural angelic blood pumping through my veins, could take the hit.

But it still hurt like hell.

Abram’s hundred and forty-some pounds crushed me, driving my body into the hard, tiled floor like a sledgehammer. My chest felt two inches thick, lungs pushing to inflate, screaming for air. Pain squeezed around me like scalding hot liquid, engulfing every square inch of my body.

My little brother rolled off me a second later, jumping to his feet, sparing me only a fleeting glimpse to see if I’d survived the fall.

“Um… Thanks. Sorry.” Abram spun on his toes and headed for the stairs that led up to the second-level balcony of the atrium and out the doors.

I tried to get up, but my arms and legs were too busy holding me in the fetal position, waiting for the crushing pain to subside. A few of the students, or maybe they were staff, I couldn’t be sure, came closer, asking if I was okay, if I needed an ambulance. I couldn’t waste time explaining. Finally, I crawled to my feet, lungs burning, and staggered toward the stairs to chase after him.

“What will kill you, little demi-arch?” the golden-haired angel yelled down from the broken skylight. “I can’t wait to discover it.”

I ignored him, racing up the stairs as fast as I could, opening my mind to the only people I knew would answer.
Eli, Jukar, I need help.
We
need help.
I placed images in their minds, at least I hoped I had, images of the student union, of Abram running, of the golden seraph chasing us. But there was no reply, no answering thought warming through my head to tell me they’d heard. I couldn’t teleport to them. I didn’t know where they were, and figuring it out would take time I didn’t have. Plus, I’d have to drag Abram along for the ride, and I wasn’t sure how much he’d slow me down. I wasn’t sure I could teleport anywhere with Abram in tow fast enough that we wouldn’t be overtaken by an unencumbered seraph.

Outside the sun blazed, and I had to squint to see Abram dash under the portico up ahead. I teleported to him, matching his stride, both of us running toward the stone stairs that led to the street below.

I felt the angel at our heels, but I knew if I took the time to look, I wouldn’t see a thing until his blade was already halfway through my neck. He moved outside of our space and time, traveling, anticipating where we’d go, when we’d get there. I could take Abram and myself into that same nowhere space, use my power to take us both as far and as fast as I could.

But it wouldn’t do any good. The golden-haired angel was stronger, faster, and more powerful than me. I’d be lucky to survive him on my own. There was no way I’d be able to keep my head and save Abram, too. Why hadn’t he teleported in front of us? Why hadn’t he killed us already? With his strength and speed we didn’t have a chance to outrun him. Was he toying with us? Herding us? I couldn’t leave Abram. I grabbed his hand and pulled him along faster.

We reached the stone staircase that split right and left to meet one flight down and join again for the final flight to the sidewalk below. A gut decision turned me to the left, and I dragged Abram with me. Our feet skimmed down the steps, barely touching the concrete until we hit the landing. I whipped him around the corner for the next flight like a roller derby pro, then jerked him back when the golden-haired angel appeared before us on the landing below.

“Back up, back up!” I pulled Abram around, turning us both toward the upper stairs.

“We meet again, demi-arch.” Azazel, the plum-haired angel who’d tried to kill me outside my shop stood at the top of the stairs. He beamed, like he really was happy to see me.

Weird.

“I told you it was my destiny to end you. And here you are.” Azazel’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Oh, yeah.
“Crap.” I pulled Abram behind me and raised my sword.
Eli, Jukar, help would be nice. Any time now,
I said from my mind to theirs. I hoped. “So if your destiny is to kill me, what’s my destiny? And how come no one’s clued me in on it?”

“Your destiny is to exist,” he said. “And so you do. Beyond that it matters not. Your life ends here.”

“Oh. So in other words, you don’t know,” I said.
Figures.
He was about as much help as Tommy.

Movement across on the right side staircase drew my attention. A third seraph stood on the landing parallel to ours, his midnight blue hair still coming to rest past his shoulders, his big hand already gripping his angelic sword.

On a hunch I peeked over the stone railing to the sidewalk below where three more seraphim stood waiting, swords drawn. I ducked back, my brain zigzagging back and forth, forming a plan and trashing it, knowing it wouldn’t work.

I knew I could escape. At least I was pretty sure I could teleport fast enough to get to Jukar’s office building where I knew I’d find backup before any of the eager seraphim caught me. But I couldn’t move fast enough with Abram in tow, and after Rumyal, I didn’t have it in me to abandon another person to certain death. The instant I left, they’d kill him. I had to try to protect him.

Why were they even coming after the kid? Michael had said they weren’t interested in him, and he’d already turned down the illorum sword Crissy offered him. Why so much interest they’d send six warriors straight from Heaven to capture him? This was about more than a little bragging on the internet. They knew something.

“Ah, lassie. Why am I always the last one ya invite to the party?”