Page 11

CHAPTER 11

D awn was still hours away when Camael watched Amelia and the Rowan sisters gather in the mansion's kitchen. His massive frame filled the doorway as he tracked their movements with ice-blue eyes that missed nothing. The females had transformed his high-end cooking space into something that looked like Heaven's most exclusive spell lab. Moonlight filtered through the stained glass window above the sink, painting the marble countertops in shades of midnight blue and blood red.

The warrior in him recognized a tactical operation when he saw one. But the male in him? That part couldn't take his eyes off Amelia as she moved with deadly purpose. The memory of her in his bed earlier helped temper his frustration. Rami delivered yet another report confirming increased demon activity. He focused on their continued use of the stolen celestial arsenal.

"You sure about this?" His voice rolled through the space like thunder. Every warrior's instinct he possessed screamed at him to grab her and get her somewhere safe. But he knew better. This female wasn't meant to be protected - she was meant to be unleashed.

"We don't have a choice." Amelia's shrug didn't hide the tension in her shoulders. "Lucifer's corruption is spreading faster than we can contain it. The seeds are our best shot at cleansing the network. There are too many miles for us to get to all the sections."

"Trust your mate, archangel," Pema advised with a look that could've stripped paint. "She was born to wield this power."

Mate. That word hit him harder than Michael during training. They hadn't even discussed what this thing between them was yet. Sure, they'd shared some explosive moments and even more explosive nights, but putting a label on it? That hadn't exactly been priority while dealing with Lucifer's latest attempts at taking over the world.

His eyes locked onto Amelia, and everything in him recognized the truth in Pema's words. The possessive need to claim her, protect her, fight beside her - it all made sudden, perfect sense. And the way she looked back at him? Yeah, she felt it too. The slight curve of her lips told him everything he needed to know.

A warrior angel and a witch. The universe had one twisted sense of humor. But watching her prepare to unleash power that would make Heaven take notice? This was right. This was meant to be. Even if the timing was about as perfect as demon table manners.

He forced himself to focus as Pema moved with practiced grace to complete the ritual circle around the island. The crushed herbs and opaline powder formed patterns his tactical mind automatically analyzed for weak points. There were none.

"The moon's almost in position," Amelia announced as she spread moissanite across the island's surface .

"We'll have a fifteen-minute window to create the seeds," she continued, "and then we can get them to the injection points."

"No pressure," Isis muttered as she took her position. The power crackling around her hands reminded him of lightning before a strike. "Just trying to save the city's spiritual foundation while demons with stolen angel weapons are gunning for us."

"Focus." Suvi's voice carried the kind of authority that would've made Michael proud. The youngest Rowan sister claimed her spot with deadly grace.

Rami materialized behind him, all business despite the chaos they were about to unleash. "The Dark Warriors are in position. They've got teams ready to escort each witch to their assigned nexus points."

"And we just got confirmation of major demon activity at the port," Jo added as she appeared. Her wings were already mantled for battle. "Something big just came in by sea. The magical signature is off the charts."

"One crisis at a time." The growl in his voice made the windows rattle. "First, we get these seeds planted. Then we deal with whatever Lucifer's shipping operation is bringing to town."

Power surged through the kitchen like someone had plugged the place into Heaven's generators. The Key at Amelia's throat blazed to life, and holy hell, watching her channel both light and shadow did things to his control that had nothing to do with battle strategy. Her hands moved through the air with lethal precision as she pulled power through the artifact. The moissanite responded to her will, transforming from simple crystals into something that would've made Heaven's weapon masters weep with envy.

The Rowan sisters' power joined hers in a display that had his warrior's senses on high alert. Pema's energy anchored the working while Isis's raw force made the air crackle. Suvi completed their circuit with magic that sang of ancient bloodlines.

"Holy shit," Isis breathed as perfect spheres of power took shape. "Are they supposed to do that?"

The crystals defied gravity, rising from the circle like they'd been trained for aerial maneuvers. Each one was a perfect fusion of light and shadow - deadly beautiful. Like the witch who'd created them.

Sweat darkened Amelia's hair as she completed the transformation. The final burst of power knocked several pictures off the walls, but he barely noticed. His entire focus was on her as she divided the seeds between his warriors.

"That's some serious mojo," Malachi observed from his position by the door. "Let's just hope it works."

"It'll work." Amelia's certainty hit him right in the gut. Even exhausted, she radiated the kind of power that made his ancient blood sing.

"That's where we come in." His Sword of Light materialized as he addressed his gathered warriors. Time to do what they did best. "Each witch gets an escort team. No demon gets within striking distance of those seeds." His ice-blue eyes swept his assembled forces. "Move out."

Minutes later, he had Amelia in his arms as they flew toward their first injection point. Her warmth against him was both distraction and motivation. Araton's voice crackled through their comms.

"We've got incoming at the port! Multiple containers giving off corrupted energy signatures. These artifacts have been modified for maximum damage."

"The seeds take priority," he ordered as they landed near Jackson Square. "Get the cleansing ritual started. We'll deal with the port situation once the ley lines are secured."

He watched with barely contained pride as Amelia worked her magic, sending the seed into the ley line with practiced ease. The network opened to her like it recognized its rightful queen. As he spread word through their tactical channels about her technique, he knew one thing for certain. This female was born for this. And he was born to fight beside her.

Once she was done implanting her six seeds, Camael told his witch he would see her soon and left her with Remi and Malachi. He headed to the Port of New Orleans to make sure they weren’t about to be overrun. It stretched before them like a maze of steel and secrets. Shipping containers rose against the lightening sky in towers that would make Babel jealous. The brackish water lapped at concrete walls older than some countries. And gulls screamed overhead like they knew the kind of shit that was about to go down.

"This place gives me the creeps," Rami muttered as he fell into step beside him. His second-in-command's wings were half-spread and ready for trouble. "These artifacts have been put through Hell's favorite blender."

"That's exactly what Lucifer did." Camael's ice-blue eyes never stopped scanning for threats as they moved deeper into the container yard. "He's gathering anything with even a trace of power and using it to spread his influence through the city."

"Status report," he growled into his comm as they reached another junction. The salt air carried traces of demon magic that made his sword hand itch to get to work.

"The witches are in position," Rami reported while checking his tactical display. "All witches have the seeds ready. They're just waiting on your signal to begin the cleansing ritual."

"The Rowans are reporting increased demon activity around their positions," Jo's voice cut in from her aerial patrol route. "These bastards know we're up to something. "

"Of course they do." Malachi's curse carried across the tactical channel. He was securing the western approach with Az, their wings tucked tight as they moved between containers. "We've got a leak upstairs bigger than Heaven's fountain."

Camael's jaw clenched as he thought about the hours of preparation that had led to this moment. His witch and her crew had created seeds using the Twilight Key that would purge Lucifer's corruption from the ley lines. But timing was everything. One wrong move and they'd lose their shot at saving the city's spiritual foundation.

"Ayil, status report," he barked into the comm.

"In position at the container terminal," the warrior responded. His voice carried the kind of tension that meant trouble was brewing. "I'm picking up Lucifer’s energy signature. We've got at least three hot spots that need immediate attention."

"Confirmed." Araton's voice crackled through. He was working his way through the eastern sector, using the pre-dawn shadows for cover. "Whatever's in these containers, it's not your standard demonic contraband. "

"Define contraband," Camael demanded as he launched himself toward Ayil's position.

"Like someone took Heaven's artifacts and put them through Hell's favorite meat grinder," Abraxos cut in. The warrior had taken point near the river, his red wings allowing him to blend with the sunrise. "The power signatures are corrupted but organized. These aren't random acts of evil. This is a coordinated effort."

"Anyone else wondering how these bastards learned our containment protocols?" Az asked over the comm. "Because they've positioned these containers exactly where we'd have the hardest time reaching them."

"They didn't just learn our protocols," Rami observed as he joined Camael on his approach to Ayil's position. "They're using our equipment. The magical signatures I'm picking up? Pure Heaven, but twisted."

"Araton, what's your read on the eastern sector?" Camael demanded.

"Three heavily guarded containers putting out enough dark energy to make a demon lord weep," came the response. "They've got them arranged in a perfect ritual triangle. Someone's been studying our tactical manuals."

"Hold positions," Camael ordered as he landed beside Ayil. The male's red wings were mantled for battle as he gestured to the container before them. "What are we looking at?"

"Bad news with a side of apocalypse," Ayil replied without taking his eyes off the target. "They're modifying the artifacts and turning them into weapons that could corrupt the entire city's magical foundation."

"Abraxos, how's the river looking?"

"Like someone invited Hell's R&D department to set up shop," the warrior reported. "I'm counting at least five more containers that feel wrong. They're using the water to amplify the corruption somehow."

The first wave of demons hit the port like Hell had decided to throw a block party. These weren't the usual ugly bastards Camael was used to putting down. No, these sumbitches smelled and looked like death.

The one that came straight for him had skin like volcanic glass and moved like it had downloaded Jackie Chan’s greatest moves. Its crystalline limbs reflected the pre-dawn light in patterns that would've given Picasso nightmares. Behind it came things that made him question whether reality had decided to take a vacation.

"We need to start NOW!" Amelia's voice carried over the comms with enough panic to make his warrior's heart stop. " The ley lines are mutating. They're turning inside out! If we wait any longer, there won't be anything left to save!"

A howl split the air as more demons emerged from between containers. Three of them went for Rami while another four circled Az like they were running combat drills. "Do it!" Camael ordered as he took a demon's head clean off. Black ichor painted ancient concrete in patterns that smoked on contact.

He felt it the instant the witches began their ritual. Power surged through the port like someone had plugged the city into a magical generator and cranked that shit to eleven. Even the demons felt it. They began to fight in earnest. His blade was already moving, taking a demon's head clean off while his soul recognized Amelia's magic singing through the ley lines.

Three uglies tried to flank him, thinking they had an advantage. Wrong move. His Sword of Light carved through the first one's center mass. He split it like a demonic pinata. The second one caught his blade through what passed for a throat. Black ichor painted the concrete in patterns that smoked on contact. The third one? That sumbitch learned why you don't rush an archangel when he was already pissed off. Camael's wings snapped out as he spun. He used the momentum to drive his blade straight through its skull.

The port had turned into a battleground. Demons were everywhere, crawling over containers. They moved with military precision that made his ancient blood boil. He was busy slicing through carotid arteries when he heard a scream. It cut through the battle noise and straight into his soul. Amelia's pain carried over the comms with enough raw agony to make his vision go red. Everything in him recognized that sound. His mate was in agony, and he was too far away to help.

Two more demons made the mistake of getting between him and the direction of that scream. His blade separated the first one's spine from its body before the thing could even register the attack. The second one tried to block with a stolen weapon. Bad choice. Camael's follow-through turned it into a flaming bag of ass. The entire time his power leaked out in waves cold enough to freeze hellfire.

Nothing else mattered. Not the battle raging around him, not the corrupted artifacts. Not even the fact that someone in Heaven was arming these bastards. His witch was in pain, and that shit wasn't going to stand. "The ley lines are fighting back!" Her voice was tight with the kind of suffering that made his instincts go nuclear. "Something's wrong - AHHHH!"

"Amelia!" The roar ripped from his throat as he launched skyward. His wings cut through humid air fast enough to leave sonic booms in his wake.

He found her on her knees near Jackson Square. Blood ran from her nose and side while power crackled around her in waves that would've killed a lesser being. "What happened?" he asked as he landed beside her hard enough to crack the cobblestones.

"Lucifer-" She broke off with another cry of pain that hit him harder than celestial steel. "He's fighting back. He knows what we're trying to do. He’s trying to force the ley lines to reject the seeds."

“You’re bleeding,” he said as he reached for her side.

She shook her head. “Remi got the demon that did that. I need to focus on the seeds.”

Camael clamped his lips shut. He didn’t like this. Her skin was too pale. Holy hell, was that blood coming from her eyes now? The power backlash was literally tearing her apart while she fought to complete the ritual. His gut twisted into a giant knot. His witch was willing to sacrifice herself to save the city's spiritual foundation .

"Like hell," he growled as he pressed his hands to her shoulders. Divine energy poured from him into her. He gave her all the strength he could. "You're not doing this alone."

Her green eyes met his, and damn if she didn't manage a smile despite the pain twisting her features. "Together then?"

"Always." He let more of his power flow into her as she reached for the ley lines again.

The fight that followed wasn't physical, but it left scars deeper than any blade. They wrestled with corruption that fought back like a demon at an exorcism. He was in awe of her and how hard she worked. Most would have given up already. He exhaled when the final seed took root. The resulting explosion of power knocked them both flat. Amelia lay in his arms, bleeding but alive as her cleansing energy raced through New Orleans' spiritual foundation.

"Next time," she managed between ragged breaths, "remind me to pack some ibuprofen."

His laugh probably scared any demons still in the vicinity, but he couldn't help it. This female could stare into the abyss and crack jokes. No wonder she had his heart in a stranglehold. "Next time," he rumbled as he gathered her closer, "we do this my way."

"Your way usually involves smiting first and asking questions never."

"Exactly." He pressed his lips to her temple, tasting blood and power and victory. "Much simpler."

Dawn painted the city in shades of gold and crimson as his warriors secured the area. They'd won this round, but Camael knew the war was far from over. Right now though? Right now, all that mattered was the witch in his arms and the fact that she was still breathing. The rest - Lucifer, the traitor in Heaven, all of it - could wait until she was healed.