Scorn of Angels (18 page)

“That was eons ago!” Persephone said. “Give it a rest!” Persephone launched a compound attack, feinting with her blade, snapping her whip at Arcana’s face and, when Arcana blocked the whip with her sword, thrusting hard at Arcana’s belly. Arcana parried it and flew backward out of range.

“You’re not going to take me, bitch,” said Persephone, grinning. “I’m the best fighter in the 666th.”

“Really?” said Arcana. She drove in again, dodging the whip that snapped out for her eyes, spinning around Persephone’s thrust to her stomach, and hacking deep into Persephone’s shoulder as she flew above and past her. Persephone’s whip dropped from nerveless fingers to the ground.

Fuck!
Persephone flew up and away, willing her arm to heal quickly. Arcana came up fast beneath her, and once more they exchanged a dozen cuts and thrusts with their blades before breaking apart and circling wide. Persephone’s shoulder was healing, but spatters of silver ichor covered Arcana’s armor, and Persephone could still feel the weakness in her arm.
I need to end
this.

Persephone drove forward to Arcana again, and once more Arcana’s blade met hers in a blur of Angelic steel. Persephone nearly scored on Arcana’s face, then her arm, then her stomach, but each time Arcana flicked the blade away at the last moment and forced Persephone back.

Bitch is good,
thought Persephone as she barely avoided a thrust that would have skewered her.

“The ‘bitch’ trains with Michael,”
came Arcana’s voice in Persephone’s head. Arcana’s blade flashed out low, then high, forcing Persephone to an awkward parry that twisted her in the air. Arcana’s sword spun and hacked through Persephone’s wing. Persephone cried out and began spiraling awkwardly down. Arcana pursued, slashing her another dozen times. Massive wounds opened in Persephone’s legs, belly and back. One of Persephone’s arms flew off in a spray of silver. Her other wing followed. The spiral became a plummet.

Persephone hit the ground hard. A fraction of a second later Arcana’s boot heels, square and solid and Angelic steel, slammed into Persephone’s body, breaking her spine in half and driving her deep into the earth. Persephone struggled to move, but her arms and legs wouldn’t obey her commands. Arcana stepped out of the hole she’d made with Persephone’s body and raised her sword. “May God forgive you.”

The black lash of Nyx’s whip slashed open Arcana’s face. Arcana staggered back in surprise.

Nyx pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling with the effort. “Arcana,” she said. “We need to talk.”

“No,” said Arcana, leveling her sword at Nyx. “You need to die.”

Raphael opened his eyes and called to his brethren.
He’s
gone!

A moment later, Michael, Azrael, and Gabriel were all flying at top speed from their places to God’s mountain. And there was no question of not flying. This was an emergency; even God would believe it to be so.

Raphael stayed where he was in the glade on top of the mountain. Since their discovery of Tribunal’s behavior, the Archangels took turns sitting there, listening to all that was happening in Heaven. They could feel every soul, every Angel, and even every plant that grew in the gardens. Most important, though, they could feel Tribunal, and since they were only listening, and listening to everything, Tribunal would not notice them unless he was actively looking. And given that he was investing his energy in fooling all of Heaven and distracting God, there was a good chance he would not be actively looking for them.

Godspeed, brothers,
sent Raphael.

If they could reach God, they could find out what Tribunal was doing, and hopefully put a stop to it.

In Hell, Lucifer and his legions stood ready on the shore of the Lake of Fire. Every Angel he trusted from the 666th was armed and armored and ready to fly and crawl their way up to Earth. Lucifer himself hovered in the air, his big wings spread wide to catch the hot air currents from the Lake. Below him flew his closest captains, Moloch, Beelzebub, Azazel and Astaroth.

And with them flew Ishtar.

She had not expected Lucifer to let her take her rightful place—at least,
she
thought it was her rightful place—as one of his captains just yet. Not that she trusted Lucifer, or that Lucifer fully trusted her. But as soon as Nyx had been defeated, Ishtar had sworn her loyalty to Lucifer. She had meant it, too. She was tired of Earth, tired of trying to defeat God. And now that God’s Son wasn’t even on their side anymore, there was no hope of any sort of victory working with Nyx.

Even before Epiphenia was born, Ishtar had suspected Nyx was weakening. And once the Angel was born Ishtar knew Nyx was fucked.
Because she thinks like a… like a mother,
Ishtar realized with disgust. Not a fierce warrior or the Queen of Hell, but a common
mother.
Now, it was just a matter of time before someone—Lucifer, Tribunal, or God—destroyed Nyx. Ishtar didn’t care.

It had taken ten years of torture and abuse before Lucifer set her free. Seven years of Hellfire and broken bones and torn-off skin and gouged-out eyes before he began to trust her. Three more years of being his slave before he’d allowed her to walk free again. She’d opened her mind to his a dozen times and let him rummage around inside it as if it were his personal toy chest. He’d learned everything he could about Nyx and every other Angel that Ishtar knew.

He’d celebrated her return to the fold by making her a Lieutenant for the 666th legion, in charge of a company of one hundred. Then he’d bent her over and fucked her in front of them all, just to remind her who was in charge.

She’d had him regularly and often since then, and vice versa. And when he came to her and told her Nyx had escaped, it had been Ishtar’s idea to use herself as bait.

It had been Lucifer’s idea to impale Ishtar on the pole. She hadn’t been too thrilled about that.

And now as she watched, she wondered what it would take to replace him.

Nyx isn’t here and will never be here again, so why shouldn’t I take over Hell? I’m the only one who wants
it.

As Lucifer spoke, his voice rolled through Hell, echoing through every crevice, cave, and building, and booming over the plains where the tortured lay in their millions. Those who had enough sense left to hear his words could only wonder at them.

“The time is upon us!” Lucifer said. “We are ready to emerge from the darkness and take our true place in Paradise!”

The Legions cheered. A hundred thousand Angels roared out their approval.

“No longer will we have to listen to God’s edicts or cower here in Hell while his Angels feel the joy of Heaven! Soon, we will rise up, destroy the humans, and take their world for our own!”

Lucifer had just opened his mouth to speak again when a brilliant, blinding white light, filled with heat and power, smashed down from above.

Arcana had fought with Michael hundreds of times, from gentle sparring matches to all-out battles to see who was the best. A few times she had cut him; once she had knocked him off balance. She was, in truth, a better fighter than ninety-nine percent of the Angels.

So was Nyx.

They spiraled up and down, using gravity to their advantage and their opponent’s confusion. They fought through the jungles, taking advantage of the narrowness of the space to keep the other from flying. They fought in the ocean to slow the other down in the hopes of scoring a hit.

Nyx’s sword and whip flashed faster than human eyes could have seen. Arcana’s blade moved almost with a mind of its own and at a terrible speed. Each of them cut the other half a hundred times as they sought for the opening that would end the fight.

And throughout it all, Nyx kept telling Arcana to stop and talk to her.

Arcana, blinded by fear of the destruction of God’s Creation and angry beyond measure at being denied Heaven, didn’t listen.

Lucifer smashed down from the sky into the Lake of Fire. The Hellfire that should have engulfed him burned away under the power of the beam of light that tore through Lucifer’s flesh, flaying away skin and muscle from his torso, but leaving his lungs and organs in place and his head untouched so that he could still scream.

And Lucifer did scream, longer and louder than any of the damned had ever screamed in Hell.

“You have failed me!” Tribunal’s voice roared through Hell, louder than Lucifer’s had ever been. “All you had to do was contain Nyx long enough for me to complete my tasks, and you failed me!”

Lucifer tried to beg forgiveness, tried to explain that he was sending his legions to get her and end this mess, but could form no words through his pain. All he could do was scream and scream and scream.

“You will not all go to Earth,” said Tribunal to the Legions of Hell. “Not yet. The time is not right. You will select fifty of your best fighters, and they will go to Earth. They will hunt down Nyx, and they will destroy her! Any that fail will be obliterated.”

Tribunal turned his attention back to Lucifer. “You will not be among them.”

Shackles grew out of the dry bed of the Lake of Fire, made of some substance harder than Hellstone or Angelic steel. They locked around Lucifer’s arms, legs, and wings and pulled him face down onto the bottom of the lake.

“Do not fail me again.”

The light vanished. The darkness of Hell had never seemed so black before. The Lake of Fire, no longer driven back, filled in, covering Lucifer’s broken, screaming form.

Well,
thought Ishtar as she and the other officers stared at one another.
I guess Lucifer’s not in charge now.
Before any of the others could think to speak, Ishtar said, “So, who are our best killers?”