Archangel Evolution (13 page)

The catch was that the dropping demon
generally ends up near the teleporting demons, but not in the exact
same spot. In this case, the demon was fifty yards from his enemies
who luckily had their backs to him. Acting quickly, he teleported
again behind the closest cover he could find, which happened to be
several large padded structures used for football tackling drills.
From that vantage point, he was able to take in his
surroundings.

The girl had been taken to the football
stadium…for training! All the while that Dionysus and the New
Archangels had been training, the girl had been doing the same. The
demon described her feats as being “extraordinary,” and “unlike
anything I have ever seen.” While Dionysus believed she was
powerful—as he had already seen what she was capable of when she
destroyed half the Council—he knew the New Archangels were powerful
too, and there were more of them.

Abruptly, the time had come for action. They
would go immediately. Kill the girl. Kill Gabriel. Get revenge.
Kill, kill, kill.

S
traightening her
body, she threw her arms forward like the point of an arrow, and
tucked her wings tightly behind her, allowing her to pass through
the narrow circle without touching the sides. With a sharp cut to
the left, she deftly slipped through another ring, and then dove
ten feet to clear the third hoop in the series. It was the first
time she had successfully navigated the most difficult sequence in
the course.

Coming out of the dive, she prepared herself
for the attack. It came swiftly and from all directions, as demons
popped in and out of view around her, aiming kicks, punches, and
fireballs at all parts of her body. While the demons couldn’t fly,
they could teleport into the air to attack and then teleport back
to the ground. And they did. Again and again while she tried to
block their attacks. She used all parts of her body in unison to
defend herself. Sometimes her foot was blocking a kick, while one
of her wings deflected a punch to the head; meanwhile, her arms
conjured up light orbs that she used to obliterate the fiery
projectiles before they did any damage.

Eventually, the attacks ceased, and she moved
on to the next task, still unscathed. Fourteen angels descended
upon her, falling in behind her flight path. Using the most complex
evasive maneuvers she could think of, Taylor tried to shake her
pursuers. First she arced to the roof of the dome, glossing a hand
along the metal surface as she flew against it. She reached the
first line of girders and beams, and then the fun began. Like a
skier slipping through slaloms on a snowy ski slope, Taylor weaved
in and out of the metal supports, using them to help hide her next
move. Slowing slightly, she allowed her first two pursuers to catch
up. Sensing they were close, she grabbed a cylindrical flagpole as
she passed it, using it to swing backwards in the direction of the
chasers. As she came out of the spin, she spread her legs and
tilted her shoes up, so that her heels were exposed. The two angels
tried to swerve, but it was too late. Each caught a heel in the
chin. Their heads snapped backwards and Taylor knew they were
knocked unconscious. She had to trust that they would be caught by
someone below.
Twelve left
, she thought.

There was no time to celebrate her small
victory, as the next two pairs of angels were upon her, flying in a
diamond formation. She knew they were already too close for her to
be able to outrun them, so she hovered in midair, waiting to defend
herself. After eight weeks of training, her instincts governed
almost every move. Her body was trim and toned and agile, her mind
sharp and fast. The flying diamond came in slow, wary of their
prey. Instantly, Taylor’s mind computed that, given their
reluctance to come in fast, there was a three in four chance that
they would launch an attack from a distance. Given they were
angels, it would likely be some sort of a coordinated light
attack.

Motionless—except for her magnificent wings,
which swept the air again and again, maintaining her height—Taylor
powered up her body, unsure of what line of defense she would use.
As expected, when the angels were within fifty feet, they fired off
dozens of twisting, turning orbs of light, each designed to
paralyze Taylor. Her chances of eliminating so many rockets with
shots of her own were slim, and therefore, her mind told her that
her best chance was to fly, and try to avoid as many as possible.
But her instincts were saying something else entirely.

She mentally urged her wings to carry her
away, to
fly, fly, fly, dammit!
As usual, her fifth and
sixth appendages ignored her, choosing to obey a growing instinct
that was about to act. Her field of vision was completely yellow
now, like she was staring into the sun, each of the orbs having
locked on to their target—her. Closing her eyes, she held her
breath and waited to be stunned, shocked, paralyzed, shot from the
sky, like she had been so many times over the course of her
training.

Typically he revived her with smelling salts,
but sometimes Gabriel chose to dump a bucket of cold water on her
head, or enter her dreams, scaring her back into consciousness. She
wondered which method he would use today.

The shock came, but felt different than ever
before. It didn’t hurt, or even cause discomfort. Instead, she felt
as if her muscles had bulged, her skin hardened, and a suit of
armor had been fitted over her clothes. Invincible—that’s how she
felt. Opening her eyes, her vision was buttery and hazy, like she
was looking through a fogbank wearing yellow sunglasses. Past the
sunflower mist were the orbs. They looked the same as before,
except they seemed to be moving away from her now, heading directly
for their masters. With no time to escape, the foursome was hit by
an explosion of light. Their bodies went rigid, their wings stopped
beating, and they dropped from the sky.
Eight left
, Taylor
thought, although she didn’t know how she had done it.

Two more angels, who were trailing closely
behind the four, became victims of shrapnel from the blast; each
attacker was stung by thin, concentrated beams of light in at least
thirty places. Like dead leaves, they fluttered towards the
bleachers below.
Make that six
, Taylor thought.

Her heart raced wildly as she realized she
had never made it this far through the training course. She’d
defeated the demon onslaught a few times, and even taken out six
angels once, but never eight. The last phase of the challenge was
meant to be conducted on the ground. Eagerly, Taylor dove to the
distant field below, swooping over the heads of the dark
spectators.

She recognized Clifford. He wore a bright red
tunic and a big grandfatherly smile. When she passed over him, he
waved. The other spectators were the demon Elders, in attendance
today to evaluate her progress and readiness to embark on her
mission. Landing at midfield, Taylor allowed herself to be
surrounded by the six remaining angels, one of whom she called
friend and another lover.

The small audience cheered. The final
showdown had begun.

Taylor drew the sword hanging from her belt.
From her touch, the blade received power, turning yellow and then
bright white, glistening with light energy.

Mirroring her, the six angels brandished
their brilliant weapons. One held his sword high over his head like
a torch; another spun her blade like a baton; the third held a
spear straight out, as if he were pointing it at Taylor’s heart;
the final three, including her boyfriend and friend, held their
swords casually, as if they were no more dangerous or deadly than a
bouquet of roses.

Dozens of Gabriel’s favorite training tips
poured through Taylor’s mind as she tried to concentrate.
Offense is the best defense…Use your enemy’s strength against
them…Trust your instincts…Use overwhelming force to surprise your
enemy.
Although Taylor understood the words, she was unable to
discern their meaning, or how any of them applied to her current
situation. Her mind was a blank slate, wiped clean from the stress
of the situation; her comprehensive knowledge and experience were
of no use to her now. Her only choice was to act swiftly and hope
for the best.
Trust yourself
, she thought, this time
remembering a piece of advice provided by her mother, rather than
Gabriel.

Whirling around, Taylor tried to judge her
enemies, looking for the weakest link. None of them looked weak to
her, although one had edged slightly closer than the others. He was
thick, but at least half a head taller than Sampson, making him the
biggest of the bunch. Without thinking too much about it, Taylor
threw her sword like a spear at the angel, who hadn’t expected an
attack to come so quickly. At the same time, she chased the sword
with a powerful blast of light from her palm. Despite his surprise,
the angel recovered and slapped Taylor’s flying sword with his own,
only to be hit flush in the chest by the orb.

Even as she fired the orb, Taylor had
sprinted after it, timing her approach in line with the glowing
shell. While her enemy was groaning—and falling—Taylor snatched the
two swords from the air. The remaining five angels made no move to
help their fallen comrade, each realizing that it was too late for
him, and that an emotional reaction could lead to a similar fate
for them.

Taylor held the two swords like ski poles,
one at each side, points in the grass. Although her heart hammered
rapidly, Taylor said, “Who’s next?” with a smile. Although it felt
moronic saying such a cheesy line, Gabriel had counseled her to
Never show fear even when you are about to pee yourself.
And
this was definitely a time when she feared losing control of her
bladder.

As she planned her next move, the attack came
from the back. And from the side. Each collision felt like being
hit by a freight train, and squeezed every last bubble of air out
of her lungs. In the several seconds it took for her to fly through
the air, land on her back, and skid across the field, Taylor had
many thoughts, her computer-like angel brain attempting to analyze
the situation. The first of the plethora of questions she had was
Who da?
And her response was to laugh at the ridiculousness
of the question. However, even as her brain was messing with her,
it had deduced that there were two additional attackers—of whom she
wasn’t aware—who had joined the fray. And had they been angels, she
would have seen them coming, so they must have been demons,
teleporting close and then barreling into her. Another thought she
had was
Breathe, breathe, breathe, freaking breathe, Taylor!
which was likely a result of the strange wheezing sound she was
making as she struggled to take in gulps of air from a seemingly
airless atmosphere.

While fighting to breathe, the rest of her
body acted on its own, as if it was a separate and distinct entity,
outside of the craziness that was her mind, brain, whatever. She
managed to turn the skid into a roll, which allowed her to avoid
two fiery swords that were swung at her wildly. At the same time,
she used her hands and feet to direct four orbs at her shadowy
assailants.

Like she had planned it the whole time,
Taylor came out of the roll and up to her feet, although she was
still gasping for oxygen. The familiar demons were down. “Chris,
Kiren?” she said.

Groaning, Chris said, “Nice one, Tay.”

“Yeah, well done,” Kiren added, lifting her
head slightly.

“Thanks,” Taylor mumbled.

Kiren added, “Do me a favor, will ya? Kick my
boyfriend’s ass.”

Taylor grinned. “Sure. And I’ll kick my
boyfriend’s while I’m at it.”

Stalking away from the downed demons, Taylor
sized up the remaining angels. Besides Gabriel and Sampson, there
were two tough-looking chicks and giant dude.
Ladies first
,
Taylor thought, as she planned to engage the long-haired angels
next.

But Gabriel didn’t give her the chance,
lunging at her with his sword. Metal clanged metal, and then
scraped, as their swords met and slid apart. With unexpected
ferocity, Gabriel slashed again, while swiping a leg along the
grass. Taylor hopped over the attempted trip and swung her second
sword at his waistline. Clang! The blow was deflected by Sampson’s
blade. Her friend had crept in from the side just in time to save
his best friend.

White hot adrenaline pumping through her
veins, Taylor parried both angels using her duel swords as if she
had been borne ambidextrous, although as a human she could barely
even answer the phone with her left hand. When one of her attackers
slashed, she would block and then slash back with double the force,
pushing them backwards towards their allies.

The other three angels were not interested in
being bystanders, moving in behind Taylor, and forcing her to back
off from Gabriel and Sampson to protect herself. When they fired
orbs at her, she used her swords like tennis rackets to bat them
away.

Again, instinct took her to another place, to
another level. Not knowing what she was doing, Taylor jammed each
sword into the grass and injected them with charges of light. Like
a fuse being lit, snapping sparks and crackling electricity buzzed
along the ground in two directions. They headed for the two glowing
chicks. When the energy reached them, the angels jumped to avoid
the danger. Instead of streaming harmlessly underneath them as even
Taylor anticipated, the trails of light stopped and then burst from
the ground, forming hands and arms, which grabbed the angels by the
ankles, pulling them back to the ground, where they collapsed.

Ignoring Gabriel and Sampson who were still
behind her, Taylor plucked her swords from the ground and charged
the tall dude, who looked like he had just seen a ghost, his face
pale and his eyes bugged out. His single sword was no match for
Taylor’s pair and she quickly disarmed him. Under the rules of her
training, a sword to the throat and the pretend enemy was
considered dead, which left Taylor to defeat only the final two
knuckleheads.