Falter (16 page)

The darkness calling to me begged for acknowledgement.
 

I wondered if the effect they had over me was because I’m different. Or did the bad in everyone flare in their presence?

I shoved my wandering thoughts away. This wasn’t the time to question their abilities. The important thing was to remember that they had an effect on me, and I needed to fight it.

They moved, unorganized, among the aisles. Even the small vermin infesting the vacant church piqued the demons’ suspicion as they scurried under their feet. They hadn’t located us—yet.

My worried gaze swept over the dark corners of the church, searching for those with me, but I didn’t see any of them. Panic and loneliness rushed through me. I had to remind myself they were close, whether I could see them or not.
 

The monsters stopped, inhaling deeply through bare, skeletal noses, like predators tracking prey. I stilled, hoping that the sweet incense drifting through the air stifled the fragrance of my battle-mates.

An angel’s scent was unlike any other. They emitted the perfume of home, comfort, and the fulfillment of any desire imaginable. Each aroma was different, and very personal, for anyone given the chance to experience it. For the demons, it was a silent alarm. As putrid to them as they were to us. The demons’ distraction from the angels wouldn’t last long.

A low hum of feathery wings rustled through the cathedral balconies. The demons stopped, turning their faces upward. Something had changed. An unseen flux in power strained against the atmosphere.
 

My instincts sharpened. Anxiety intensified. It was nearly time.

His familiar warmth wrapped around me like a blanket, calming my nerves. It was only his energy that surrounded me though, not him. I closed my eyes, disappointed that he was so far away. I pictured his face and pretended his soft skin caressed mine.
 

A soft voice spoke to me—his voice—from someplace inside my mind.

Prepare yourself, Nevaeh, the time has come. They are here, and we are ready.

His influence overpowered me. I couldn’t fight the distraction. I consumed every heavenly sensation imprinted on his message. Happiness, love, lust, and satisfaction pulsated through me.
 

The intensity was almost too much for my senses to bear, but I yielded to his influence anyway. A need to be near him, kneeling at his beauty, fluttered in my heart. Even after all my training, keeping control with him was difficult. I hated myself for it.

I opened my eyes, frantically searching through the crack around the confessional door. I hungered for just one look. Maybe it would give me peace.
 

Beautiful, shimmering eyes darted my direction. He was perched in a darkened corner on the other side of the dilapidated church, deep concern shrouding his face. His energy jerked away as he shouted into my mind.

Focus, Nevaeh!
 

The demons’ sickening stench was closing in on me. The instantaneous nausea settling in my stomach awakened me from my needy trance. Bile saturated my mouth. My saliva thickened. With one big gulp, I swallowed the puke rising in my throat and strengthened my resolve.

They found me.
 

I sensed the monsters outside the door, waiting for me just as I waited for them in my wooden sinner’s box. A confessional was a perfect place to get the sudden urge to ask for forgiveness—to pray for supernatural strength—right? Yet, out of pure spite, I didn’t want to. I accepted this fate, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it.
 

The atmosphere grew heavier and thicker. My chest tightened with each breath of foul air. A haunting silence quieted my mind like the calm before a storm—an omen of the struggle about to begin.
 

I chanted words of repentance, only half believing God would actually accept them as atonement. I wasn’t even sure my heart regretted anything I had done. I liked to think it did—that my confession meant something—in case the battle didn’t end well.
 

My head cleared. An instant rush of strength empowered my body like never before. The door flung open. I leapt into the air higher than gravity should have allowed and landed in a crouch on the hard ground. I was energized, fearless.
 

Maybe God
was
listening.
 

I slowly rose and gauged my surroundings. The demons confined me within a circle, pure hate and evil rolling between them like a poisonous fog. The pain they conveyed made me want to scream from the bottom of my soul.
 

They hadn’t sensed my heavenly soldiers, yet. There focus was entirely on me. I grinned. Everything was going as planned. Perhaps, they were too intrigued by the human waiting in the shadows for them to notice the horde of angels watching them from above.
 

The few seconds of hesitation that passed while they assessed me as a threat allowed me to study them closer. Nothing could ever subdue the terror that choked your throat when in a demon’s presence. Their heads, twice as big as mine, resembled a human corpse after severe decomposition. Charred eyes, sunk deep into their skulls, glared back at me—measuring my worth as an opponent. Sharp jawbones protruded and moved as they communicated. Screeches seemed to resound from under the seamless stretches of skin beneath their noses.
 

My eyebrows pulled together in disgust, my gaze lingering on the thin layer of melted flesh fused together into a wrinkly area of skin where lips should’ve opened.
 

Where the fuck are their mouths?

Rotten folds of meat melded to the sides of their heads instead of ears. I couldn’t understand how they heard the high-pitched screeches they made.

Snorting and huffing, the monsters stared me up and down. Ragged breaths extended and contracted the jagged ribs bulging awkwardly out from their strange chest cavities. It was as if something pressurized their torsos from the outside, forcing the front ribs to buckle inward against the curvature of their back ribs.

The demons’ brows angled up at the ends, worsening the malicious intent in their expressions. I got the notion they would smirk if they could. Apparently, they decided I wasn’t much of a threat.

My petite five-foot-four frame was no match. Brownish-red flesh clung tight to lean builds, which stood at least six feet tall. Their muscles flexed in wiry, long patterns around thin rotted masses.

My body tensed as I watched them bend their large, boney knees and curve their wide shoulders in, hunching into attack positions. I would’ve been more intimidating if the angels stood beside me, but I needed to be alone for the first part of this battle. It was important that they challenged me.
 

The demons closed in around me. I grabbed for the cold metal strapped to my back and wrapped my fingers tight around the hilt, the sword sliding easily from its sheath. I raised it in preparation.

Sweat dripped from my brow. I cursed the urge to vomit. Settling into a squat, I impatiently awaited their move. Traces of satisfaction showed on their marred faces as they observed me.
 

The anticipation burned an ulcer in my gut. I just wanted to get started already.
 

Come on assholes, what’s one little human? No one will know, right?
 

It took all I had to hold my mark.
 

Be patient
, I reminded myself.

The time that lapsed made me wonder if the battle would ever begin. Did they think I was too meek to bother with, or were they making me wait on purpose?
 

Then it happened, a ripple in the energy.

Behind me, the whooshing of a claw swiping through the air caught my attention. That was enough of a move for me. I pivoted and faced the attacker. Its razor-edged fingers scraped the skin on my shoulder. Goose bumps formed on my cool skin as warm blood trickled down my arm from a burning laceration. Without a second thought, I reacted and sliced the sword through the space between us.
 

Damn. I missed.
 

The demon ran. It jumped, clinging to the nearest wall with a force that buckled the stone façade, boney claws digging into rock and mortar. Its strong legs flexed and used the wall as leverage to hurdle over my head. I spun to locate the monster and saw that the rest had flocked around me again.
 

My heart skipped a beat. This was a disappointing start.
 

I retreated until my back was flat against the cool wall. Scanning the rafters, I prayed that the angels would join me soon.
 

The demon to my right barreled closer, ramming his shoulder into my head before I could react. My body scraped along the stone a few feet, and I almost toppled over from the sudden dizziness spinning my surroundings into a blur. The clatter of my sword falling to the ground, leaving my hand empty of defense, registered in my ears. I pressed my body into the wall and shook my head, shifting the cathedral back into its proper place and stillness. After a few seconds, my equilibrium recovered enough I could move without feeling drunk.
 

I raised my hands up and curled my fingers around the ledge of a stone sconce above me, lifting my body weight off the ground. A pained groan pushed from my throat. My brain throbbed from the stabbing pain that came every time I moved. Swinging my tired legs back and forth through the air in front of me, my body built momentum until I let go of the sconce and hurled myself toward the demons. I landed on two of them, toppling them like dominoes. The others filed in to snatch me from the dogpile.
 

I crawled over the corpse-like lumps and scurried across the dusty floor on my belly. My eyes landed on the bejeweled sword shining in the moonlight a few feet away. Stumbling to my feet, I pushed off the ground into a clumsy sprint toward my weapon.
 

One of the monsters snagged my shirt as I ran. My body jerked to an abrupt stop, heels digging into the ground when it started to drag me backwards. Its grip on my shirt bound me so tight around my chest I could barely breathe. Focusing on the sword only inches from my feet, I held my breath and lunged toward the weapon as hard as I could. Sharp claws tore through the fabric, freeing me from the demon’s grasp.
 

Inhaling deeply, I reached a shaky arm out and closed my hand around the hilt. I spun around and charged, unsure if I would make contact. The tip of the sword met a hard surface then slid smoothly forward, piercing the demon’s stomach. There wasn’t any blood. Instead, harsh smoke and ash puffed out from the wound, filling my eyes and nose.

I sucked a quick, involuntary breath and choked on the cloud of ash and death. The vomit I’d been holding back made its way out, splattering at my feet and clumping with the mess of debris and dirt on the ground in front of me. Straining to find a sufficient breath of air in the puff of filth floating around me, I sputtered, cough after cough, until the cloud finally settled.
 

Through a clearing swirl of smut, the silhouette of a lifeless mass became clear. Its rotted flesh and hollowed form made the body on the ground look as if it had been dead for centuries.
 

Another monster rammed into my side, lifting me off the ground and carrying me at least ten feet before slamming me onto a pew seat. My back cracked against the wood, knocking the air from my lungs. I rolled off the bench, a sharp sting riding the length of my spine, and slumped down onto my hands and knees between the rows of seats, dazed and breathless. Instinct forced me to set into motion and crawl away like my life depended on it. And, truthfully, it did. I was getting my ass kicked.

The demon smashed through the aisle after me, shoving the pews aside in a path of destruction. It stumbled forward, reaching for me. I dodged its grimy hands, rolling under the next pew over, confusing the big, dumb monster.
 

I clutched the bottom of the seat above me and slid myself along the floor on my back until I reached the end of the row. A glint of silver flashed like a beacon beneath the pile of broken wood the demon had tossed aside. I climbed out from under the seat and dove for the mound, hoisting the broken plank off the top. I shoved my hand into the splintered pieces of pew, wincing at the new cuts opening on my skin. My fingers wrapped around the heavy metal and pulled it free.
 

Glancing over my shoulder, I found the demon closing in on me. Surrender was beginning to look like a valid option. The aching in my bones and muscles grew to unbearable heights, threatening to dominate my will to continue the battle. I shook my head and drew in a deep breath. Fighting the pain, I sprinted toward the front of the holy ruins. I leaped on top of the altar, gripping the sword with white-knuckled force—awaiting the evil that was sure to follow.
 

The demons’ mangled forms blasted through their obstacles, plowing down more pews, lit candelabras, and empty offering tables. They smashed dried fonts and toppled every statue of a saint in their path before finally crowding around me and the altar. Their horrid bodies emanated sheer ire and frustration. Every pair of black orbs focused on me and, through the darkness, I glimpsed the frightening deeds they intended to enact upon me.