Battle Angel

  “Turns out it was closer to the truth than you’d thought. I’m here now,” Jacks said. “Louis was able to get me a message. Gabriel. That was it. But it was enough. Louis is no fool. But how did he figure it out?”

  “Apparently Cassius Holywaine flipped at the last minute. Engineered Louis’s escape.”

  “Cassius from the Council of Twelve?” Jacks asked.

  “He had an attack of conscience,” Sylvester said. “He told Louis that Gabriel was behind all of this and broke Louis out. Louis made it. Cassius wasn’t so lucky.” The detective shook his head. “It was so obvious and I was blind to it,” Sylvester said. “Hiding in plain sight. Whatever pieties Gabriel may show in public, he’s never been a friend to humanity. Rather than work for them, why not just create a world without humans and take everything for himself?”

  “Yeah, without humans, but with demons,” Jacks said. “What I don’t understand is, why the Dark Ones? What did Gabriel think was going to happen after the demons destroyed everything and made Earth their home?”

  “Demons were once Angels—remember that,” Sylvester said. “Fallen Angels.”

  “But they chose the dark path themselves,” Jackson said.

  “Yes, and that’s the same path Gabriel is choosing for all the Angels,” Sylvester said. “Gabriel doesn’t see much difference between Angels and Demons, since both are no longer connected to Home. He sees the difference only as a matter of degree. Gabriel knows that Angels and Demons were becoming more alike than anyone would want to admit. Just look at what Protection for Pay has done to the Guardians.”

  “And if he can control the demons now, he’ll be able to control them afterward,” Jacks said grimly. “He’ll have a Dark Army to ensure that no one else can challenge him on Earth—forever.”

  “It’s not too late, though, Jacks. You’re here now,” Sylvester said. A distant rumble from outside sounded through the tunnel. “What’s going out there?”

  “It’s not good,” Jackson said. “Even with the full Angel battalion . . . the demons just don’t stop.”

  “Your stepfather . . . ?” Sylvester tentatively asked. He knew not all the Angels had turned against the Council.

  “Mark’s out there right now,” Jacks said. “Fighting.”

  Sylvester and Jackson had reached a far corner of the sanctuary when all of a sudden a voice spoke up.

  “Stop right there, Jackson.” It was an ADC agent. He held a Divine Sword in his hand and stood in front of a solid, closed doorway. He looked formidable on the outside, but instantly Jacks could tell he was terrified. Sylvester drew his revolver, but Jacks waved him off.

  Jacks put his hands up to show he meant no harm. “Hey. I’m not here to hurt you. You know that what’s going on is wrong. You need to step aside and let justice take place.”

  The guard lifted his sword, but it wavered in his uncertain grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Angel guard said from behind his black armor, his voice quavering.

  “There’s still time to join the others,” Jacks said. “Gabriel weaves a spell with his words. I probably know that better than any of us. But I found out the truth. You don’t have to let him rule your destiny.”

  “You won’t be able to beat him,” the agent said, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Jacks suddenly realized something was wrong. Very wrong. Something worse than what he was already anticipating.

  A foul odor drifted in from the other side of the door.

  “What’s in there?” Jacks asked.

  “I d-don’t know,” the guard stammered. “And I’m not going to find out. He only told me that if I failed, there will still be another.”

  “Another?” Sylvester said.

  The guard motioned behind the door, practically shivering at this point.

  “It’s not too late,” Jackson said. “You can join the others. Just lower your sword and let us pass. We won’t hurt you.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” the guard said, his eyes nervously darting between Jacks and the detective.

  “You just have to,” Jackson said. “Let us through, or we’ll go through you. Your choice.”

  The guard mulled his options one more time, sweat glistening on his face beneath the black armor.

  “Last chance,” Jackson said. The Guardian began reaching for his Divine Sword, which lay slung across his back.

  At last, the guard slowly leaned over and lowered his weapon. He then began fleeing away from the door, past Sylvester and Jacks, and down the passageway.

  Whatever was behind the door must have been what cleared everyone else out of the sanctuary.

  The guard’s retreating footsteps echoed away. It was deathly quiet now. So quiet that Sylvester and Jackson could hear each other’s heartbeats. They held their breath and listened at the door for any telltale sign. But they could hear nothing. Still, they knew there was something beyond the door in the passage leading to the great atrium.

  The door itself was sweating condensation because of a great heat on the other side. Jackson moved his hand just six inches away from the door, and he could feel the heat radiating off the mahogany wood. He slowly reached down—the brass handle was scalding hot.

  Sylvester rummaged in one of his overcoat pockets and produced an old handkerchief.

  There was no other way in. Whatever lay beyond these doors would have to be faced.

  One of Sylvester’s hands started shaking uncontrollably. His vision started to narrow with blackness as the anxiety came on. The great shame of his nerves. He was not afraid for himself; he was afraid of failing others. Of failing so many others at this point. Millions. It would be a greater failure than he could ever imagine. He had to face it; he had to fight it. He looked the fear in the face. . . .

  “Are you all right?” Jacks said.

  “Yes,” Sylvester said, taking a deep breath in. The anxious blackness around his vision started to flicker away. It was time.

  Jacks nodded at him. Sylvester opened the door silently, an inch at a time. The heat grew more intense as the door opened wider, and the darkness remained just as deep.

  Jackson stepped across the threshold.

  An enormous shadow moved in the dark, then shot up right toward him. It was as if Jacks had been struck by a locomotive. The demon had smashed into him before he’d even seen it. Jackson crashed against the door, splintering the formidable wood.

  “Jackson!” Sylvester pushed through the door. And stopped dead in his tracks. Next to him, Jacks was attempting to clamber to his feet, the wind knocked out of him from the surprise blow. They were both frozen in wonder and disgust at the monstrous demon in front of them.

  It was the largest demon they had ever seen, bigger than they could have ever imagined. It was at least twenty feet high, and almost as wide across, its hulking mass curled over so it wouldn’t break through the ceiling. There was absolutely no way of getting around it. It stretched out its scaly wings and beat them against the walls. A dark flame burned at the very center of its mass, fueling the engine of evil. The worst were its heads: Jackson and Sylvester could not even count all of them, but it seemed as if there might be eight of them. Spewing out of the main, horn-lined body, each head was even more terrible than the next.

  The acrid smell of demon smoke was choking the hallway, and the heat was almost unbearable.

  The thing then roared, each head’s throat screaming at once to create a symphony of evil.

  Jackson did not wait long. Springing forward, he swung his Divine Sword overhead, and separated one of the heads from its neck. The slithering stump of a neck spewed thick black blood as the head rolled to a corner. The demon squealed and brought everything it had at Jackson, snapping at his legs, arms, and chest with its many heads.

  Swinging the blade back and forth, Jacks did his best to block the attacks, but there
were so many at once. Black teeth bit at him, ripping into his body armor. A little while longer and they would tear through.

  Mustering all his strength, Jackson jumped up. His wings burst forth, and he managed to spear one of the demon’s heads right in the mouth as it tried to follow him. He could feel its final screams travel down the blade before he pulled it out. And yet, still, the demon was not slowing down in the least. The thing was actually becoming more vicious.

  “The main one, Jacks!” Sylvester yelled, pointing to the largest of the heads, which had a particularly menacing set of black-red eyes and a cavernous mouth like the jaws of hell themselves. “It’s the only way.”

  Jackson nodded, fiercely trying to slice his way in. But the demon was not dumb. It knew how to guard itself. Jack was still far from being able to strike when three of the heads went for his legs at once. Grunting, Jackson was knocked down to his knees, and another head slammed him down onto his chest from behind. The remaining heads were poised to make the fatal blow, saliva dripping from their terrible maws.

  BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

  Smoke wisped out of the barrel of Sylvester’s revolver. He had emptied all the rounds of ammunition, aiming right at the eyes of the demon’s main head.

  The demon squealed, thrashing, as its heads coiled back in to tend to the injury. Still, the bullets would feel like a fleck of dust stuck in its eye—irritating but nowhere near fatal. But it could be enough to slow it down.

  “Now, Jacks!” Sylvester shouted, struggling to reload his gun. The demon lunged toward Sylvester with one of its heads. The detective put up his arm to protect himself, and it was bent back at an unholy angle as he was smashed down to the floor, and then against the wall. Sylvester slumped to the ground, not moving.

  “No!”

  Jackson had been able to get to his feet. He would only have a moment. The demon was still partially blinded and distracted by Sylvester’s gunshots. But the other heads were still going to keep Jackson at arm’s length.

  Jacks reached back and launched the Divine Sword like a javelin harder than he had ever thrown anything in his life.

  His aim was true. And perhaps something forged in the weapon itself kept its course straight. The sword struck the demon’s left eye, plunging in all the way to its hilt. Fountains of black blood came pouring out as the demon shrieked and dropped to its knees. Suddenly, the entire tunnel was filled with the brightest light. Every single speck of dust—and every centimeter of the demon—was now clearly visible in the light. The blinding illumination flashed off the blade of the Divine Sword and then was gone.

  Gasping, Jacks dropped down to his knee, catching his breath. The demon’s final death quivers filled the tunnel with rumbling. But Jackson knew it was dead. The sword had told him that.

  After a few moments, Jackson was able to stand up. He moved quickly over to where Sylvester lay, crumpled against the wall. He feared the worst.

  But Jacks was relieved to find that, though he was unconscious, Sylvester was still breathing.

  “Detective Sylvester!” Jacks said. He lightly slapped him on the cheek, to no effect. Jacks picked up the revolver off the floor and put it in the detective’s overcoat. He then pulled him up to sitting. It’d have to do for now.

  Jacks approached the steaming demon carcass. Its bulk almost filled the whole hallway. Carefully, he began climbing the heap. Its scaly skin was now hardening, although it was still scalding hot. The soles of Jackson’s boots steamed as he walked on the skin.

  The demon’s lifeless main head was facing him, its eye sockets totally empty.

  “You have something of mine.”

  With a satisfying tug, he pulled the Divine Sword out of the demon’s skull and wiped it clean against the hardening scales of its wings. Taking one last look at the unconscious Sylvester, he climbed down on the other side of the deceased Dark Angel and looked forward, down the dim passageway.

  At the end of it was the main hall, where he had spent much time with Gabriel. The inconstant light from torches or candles was burning there in the distance, pointing the way toward the chambers—where Gabriel would likely be waiting.

  Jackson walked down the dark hallway toward the atrium, more determined than ever. He ran his forearm across his face to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated during his struggle with the demon. He couldn’t be sure he was ready for Gabriel, especially after all he’d been through. But he might never be ready, so now was as good a time as any.

  Two torches burned along the wall. From far above, at the tallest point of the arched main hall, a ghostly red glow shone through the skylights. Angel City was burning. The dim red light illuminated the sandstone frieze that had been recovered from an ancient Angel ziggurat, which told the story of the Angels defeating the Dark Angels during the great Demon Struggles of long, long ago. Jackson wondered how many thousands of years had passed since then. And now they were back here again.

  To the right of the atrium lay the Council chambers, its doors wide open. Here was the huge, chapel-like space where Gabriel had made all the decisions with the Council. It was the place where he had decided to doom Angel City.

  Jackson saw flames flickering from within. With slow, precise footsteps, he approached the open door. The torchlight cast his long shadow across the chamber’s threshold.

  Although Jackson couldn’t see anyone yet, the voice he heard was unmistakable.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Jackson,” Gabriel said. “By all means, please come in.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Holding his Divine Sword up at the ready, Jackson took a cautious step inside. It was deathly quiet; the only things he could hear were the muffled sounds of battle clamoring in from outside. Each step he took echoed in the large open chamber.

  Lit candles flickered along each side of the row of Grecian columns topped by Corinthian capitals. A slight draft made the flames waver, casting orange-tinted shadows that danced along the arched ceiling.

  Gabriel sat, alone, at the head of the large Council table.

  “I must admit, some part of me is quite happy to see you, Jackson. I’m impressed you made it this far. We trained you well.”

  Of all the Council members, only Gabriel remained. An ageless king upon an ageless throne.

  His shock of white hair glinted more brightly as ever. Shadows danced in and out of his face.

  Jackson carefully continued walking in, making sure to keep the Divine Sword between him and the True Immortal. Gabriel seemed quite untroubled.

  “I’m afraid that whatever victory you have had here will be a short-lived one, Jackson,” said Gabriel. “And only what some might call a moral one. The demons will not fall today. I’ve made sure of it.”

  “How could you?” Jacks asked. He looked at the ancient True Immortal before him, the Angel who had been symbol of all that was righteous and pure since his childhood.

  Gabriel just shook his head. “After all we’ve been through, all our talks, I thought we had an understanding. That you had moved beyond weak, immature sentimentality to a bigger, more important revelation. I thought you understood what is necessary for the Angels to thrive. I overestimated your capacity for understanding such complex, eternal matters. My heart grows heavy thinking of how you betrayed me. Betrayed us. Betrayed the Angels.”

  Jackson was incredulous. “You’re the one who has betrayed.”

  “Jackson. You didn’t really think we’d let humans, the weakest creatures of all, run this planet, did you?” Gabriel said. “All Immortals are of the same family, Jackson. Whether of the light or of the darkness. And now is our moment to stand together and take hold of our common destiny. For too long we perfect Immortals have dealt with humanity’s defects and weaknesses. No longer. Today, we take our birthright. I’m just disappointed you won’t be joining us, Jackson. I really had high hopes for you. I see now that my ju
dgment was wrong.”

  Gabriel’s face showed genuine regret. He was thoroughly convinced of the rightness of his actions.

  “But my biggest regret is allowing you to grow as strong as you did,” Gabriel went on. “I should never have let you become influential enough to draw the other Immortals to you. The law of the Angels will land harshly upon all those you persuaded to leave.”

  “Everyone has joined,” Jacks said.

  “Yes, well. The punishment will surely take a long time,” said Gabriel. “But eventually, they will be let back in. And they will come back, don’t you worry. Once they see how miserably you’ve failed. How you’ve led them astray trying to deprive them of their destinies. They will come to curse the Godspeed name.

  “I’m sure it’s difficult for you to understand how much damage you’ve done in so short a time. But I’d like you to at least try,” Gabriel said. “It will take us very long to fix the wreckage that you’ve caused. We’ll have to rebuild our loyalties, bring everyone back into the fold. It will likely take years, even decades. But fix it we will. Trust me, Jackson. With humanity no longer bothering us, we will have all the time in the world. Angels will become utterly ascendant, the way it always should have been.”

  “Do you really think the demons will just stop once they’re done with the humans?” Jacks said. “You think you can trust a Dark Angel? They’ll turn to the Angels next.”

  Gabriel smirked. “I’ve known them a long time, Jackson. I know their secrets. All of them. I know how to deal with them. They wouldn’t dare cross me.” He paused. “They . . . fear me.

  “The lower orders of the Earth will be fully given over to the Dark Angels. Humans are their natural playthings,” Gabriel said. “And we Angels will take our rightful place as the fully acknowledged preeminent beings in the world. We’ll no longer have to worry about petty mortal annoyances. We’ll be able to fix our thoughts always on the perfect, Angelic nature from which we come.”