Page 13
CHAPTER 13
T he tactical map in the mansion's war room pulsed with activity as they plotted potential locations for Lucifer's next move. Camael watched Amelia trace energy patterns across the city grid while his Angels of Retribution gathered intel. The witch's power crackled around her fingers as she worked. Damn if that didn't do things to his concentration.
"If these convergence points form a pattern, I can’t see it," she muttered, marking another location with one of the Rowan sisters' enchanted crystals. "I can’t tell if he's just hitting random targets. We know his end goal, but all of the rest of this seems frivolous."
"So, there’s no way to predict where he’s going to hit next?" Rami asked.
Before anyone could respond, power slammed through Camael's brain like a battering ram. The energy signature was from the Archangel Council. And they were panicked. His ancient blood ran cold. "Something's wrong upstairs," he growled. "The celestial realm is under attack. "
"What?" Malachi's wings snapped out as he moved closer. "How is that even possible? Heaven's defenses-"
"Are being breached from within." The words tasted like ash in Camael's mouth as the information came through in pieces. "Is the traitor we've been hunting making their move?"
Amelia's head snapped up from her work. "Go," she said without hesitation. "We've got things covered here."
His protective instincts warred with his duty as he met those green eyes of hers. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stay with his witch. To keep her safe. But Heaven itself was under assault. He couldn't ignore that.
"The Dark Warriors will maintain patrols and handle shit here," Izzy promised. The vampire princess's sapphire eyes missed nothing as she assessed the situation. "Between us, the Rowan sisters, and Jace, she'll be well protected."
Camael's jaw clenched as he made the call. "Remi, Jo, and Malachi, I want you to maintain defensive positions here. If this is coordinated with Lucifer's moves in the city, we can't afford to leave any gaps."
"The triplets should come too," Rami suggested as he checked his blade. "If things are as bad as that energy pulse suggests, they’ll be needed."
Looking at Amelia one last time, Camael crossed to her in three long strides. His massive frame towered over her as he cupped her face in his hands. "Stay safe," he growled before claiming her lips in a kiss that carried equal parts possession and promise.
"You too, Archangel," she breathed when they broke apart. "Try not to start an apocalypse without me."
His laugh surprised him. There was nothing funny about their situation, but this female could face down anything with attitude to spare. "Keep the city in one piece until I get back. "
With a final nod to the others, Camael walked outside and launched skyward. His wings cut through reality as he opened a path to the celestial realm. His warriors and the triplets followed in perfect formation as they breached the barriers between worlds.
They emerged into what looked like a celestial civil war. Wings of various colors filled Heaven's pristine streets as angels clashed with angels. At first glance, it was impossible to tell friend from foe. They all wore the same armor and wielded similar weapons. They also moved with the deadly grace of an angel. It didn't take Camael long to see that something was off about the way some of them fought.
Camael's ancient instincts screamed warnings as he watched supposedly loyal soldiers using tactics that had been forbidden since the First War. They were using killing strikes designed to inflict maximum damage. To destroy, not subdue.
Zakara came racing toward Rami with her purple wings flowing behind her. “They destroyed my bakery!”
“Fucking assholes,” Rami cursed. “We will rebuild. But first, let’s make them pay.” The warrior pulled his mate to his side.
"Hold," he ordered his men as they all prepared to join the fray. His ice-blue eyes narrowed as he studied the battlefield. "Watch their wing movements."
Understanding dawned in Az's expression as he observed what Camael had noticed. “Those siding with Lucifer are different. Their movements are jerky and harsh. They're fighting their nature. And darkness is writhing beneath their pristine feathers.” It was visible only when they twisted in certain ways.
"Sweet mother of mercy," Araton breathed as they watched. "Matthias has gone dark."
"Not just Matthias," Camael growled as he recognized more faces. Angels he'd fought beside, trained with, and trusted. Their movements were efficient but cruel. Their strikes were meant to maim rather than disable. "Look at their eyes when they turn this way. The corruption shows there first."
The fallen angels pivoted in their direction, and the others caught sight of the shadows in their eyes. The clearness of celestial grace was threaded through with darkness that moved like living ink. "Remember," Camael instructed his warriors as they prepared to engage, "these were once our brothers and sisters. They've chosen their side. Show mercy where you can. But don't hesitate if it comes down to them or you. They're not pulling their strikes."
"The corruption's spreading through the residential district," Abraxos reported. "They're targeting the younger angels first."
"The nurseries," Ayil added with a grim expression. "We need to get the fledglings out before that darkness reaches them."
Camael scanned the area for Michael before he issued orders. When he didn’t see the other archangel, he focused on the triplets. "You three, evacuate the young ones. Get them to Earth. The Dark Warriors can watch over them temporarily. The rest of you are with me. We need to find and kick these assholes out of Heaven."
They split up with practiced efficiency. Each warrior knew their role. The triplets' red wings became blurs of motion as they carved paths through waves of corrupted angels. Their synchronized fighting style took out anything in their path on their way to the nurseries.
Camael and his men hit Heaven's administrative district with a vengeance. Their blades sliced through flesh as they engaged former brothers and sisters who'd given themselves to darkness. Each strike felt like betrayal. It hurt Camael’s heart to see so many taking Lucifer’s side once again. But he didn't hesitate. Not when the very foundations of Heaven were at risk.
"The corruption's strongest near the Archives," Rami called out as they fought their way through another wave. His blade took a corrupted angel's head while Camael's follow-through turned its partner into ash.
Camael’s breath caught. "The First Records. If someone got their hands on those..."
"They could rewrite the basic laws of existence," a familiar voice finished for him. The words dripped with enough smug satisfaction to make Camael see red. He spun to find Jeremiel emerging from the Archives' entrance. The archangel's white wings were shot through with darkness. His eyes swirled with malevolence, making Camael's stomach turn.
"You," he growled as his brother’s betrayal hit him like a wrecking ball. "You've been feeding intel and weapons to Lucifer this whole time."
Jeremiel's laugh could have frozen hellfire. "Someone had to help him level the playing field. The old order is dying, brother. It's time for something new. Something pure."
"Pure?" Rami's blade sang through the air as he engaged a corrupted guard. "You call this abomination pure?"
"This is just the opening act, brother." Jeremiel spread those corrupted wings, and holy hell, wasn't that a sight? Darkness dripped from feathers that used to shine brighter than Heaven's spires. His smile was pure nightmare fuel as he added, "When those barriers crash? That's when the real party starts. No more playing by the rules. No more good versus evil bullshit holding us back. Just pure. Raw. Freedom."
The fight that followed redefined Camael's whole concept of celestial warfare. And considering he'd been doing this shit since before time learned to crawl? That was saying something. Jeremiel came at him like demonic possession in angel form. The male had always been a skilled warrior. You didn't make archangel by collecting celestial participation trophies. But this? This was some next-level combat that belonged in Hell's highlight reel.
Their blades met with enough force to make Heaven's foundations do the cha-cha. Divine steel screamed against corrupted metal while power exploded outward in waves. Camael blocked a strike that would've taken his head off, then countered with a move they'd practiced together for millennia.
"Brother, stop this!" He tried reaching the warrior he'd known since Creation as they took the fight vertical. "This isn't you. Lucifer is twisting everything you were meant to be."
Jeremiel was beyond words. His blade never stopped as they twisted through ancient spires. Each clash of their weapons sent out pulses of energy that turned pristine marble into gravel. Their wings carried them higher and faster. They were locked in a deadly dance of steel and grace that rewrote the rules of angelic combat.
Camael realized something seriously wrong was happening every time their blades connected. The corruption flowing through Jeremiel's essence? That shit was contagious. It reached for Camael through each point of contact. The evil was trying to download itself into his grace. It whispered promises that made his warrior's soul want to hurl. It was trying to turn his divine light into the same twisted horror show that had eaten his brother's spirit.
Fighting your own flesh and blood was hard enough without evil trying to give you a spiritual STD through blade-to-blade contact. Camael had no way to fight this. This was about fundamental forces. Light and shadow. Creation and destruction. They needed someone who could work with both energies. They needed Amelia.
"Hold the line!" he barked at Rami as he launched himself toward Earth. His wings cut through reality faster than thought as he raced to collect his witch.
He found her exactly where he'd left her, at the mansion with the Dark Warriors. She spun toward him the instant he materialized. "I need you," he said without preamble. "Heaven's burning, and you're the only one who can stop it."
To her credit, she didn't hesitate. "Then let's go save paradise."
The return trip would have killed a lesser being. His witch held onto him with steel in her spine and fire in her eyes. They emerged into a Heaven that was barely recognizable. The corruption had spread further. The pristine architecture was turning black. Rami and his mate were helping hold the line at the Archives. Their blades left trails of divine fire as he fought alongside Michael himself.
"Focus on those Archives!" Camael barked as he set his female down. His Sword of Light was already singing through the air, taking out a corrupted angel trying to flank them. "The infection's anchored in there. You shut that shit down, and we've got a shot at saving this place."
Watching Amelia work her mojo was better than premium angel porn. The Key at her throat lit up brighter than a supernova as she hit those Archive steps at full speed. Her power crackled around her like she was mainlining pure adrenaline. Her hands moved through the air with lethal grace while she worked magic that was beyond Camael’s understanding.
He kept the ugly stuff off her six. His blade carved through anything stupid enough to try interrupting her workflow. Two angels who'd clearly drunk Lucifer's Kool-Aid tried rushing her left flank. His sword separated their heads from their shoulders faster than you could say ‘divine retribution’. Their bodies hadn't even hit Heaven's marble before three more took their place.
"Keep going, witch!" he called out as he engaged the new threats.
Pride swamped Camael. His witch was something else. While he was playing celestial bouncer, his female was making Heaven's most sacred texts her bitch. The power pouring off her would've made lesser beings spontaneously combust. Literally. She worked it like she'd been born to rewrite Lucifer's vile operating system.
Nobody got within twenty feet of her without going through him first. And considering his kill count was already high enough to give Heaven's accountants a coronary? That was saying something. Her power spread through Heaven's streets like a cleansing wave. The darkness writhed and fought. But it couldn't stand against her power.
Jeremiel's scream of pure rage cut through the celestial throwdown like a demon at a prayer meeting. His wings spread wide. Corruption dripped from them like toxic rain as he watched his carefully crafted plan circle the cosmic drain.
"What have you done, you pathetic witch?" The words came out in a snarl that would've made Hell's finest flinch. Instead of attacking like the suicidal idiot Camael expected, his brother's expression shifted to something way more dangerous. Calculation.
His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. The smart bastard was doing the math and realizing his odds had just gone from bad to ‘holy shit, we're screwed’. "This isn't over, brother." Jeremiel's laugh could've stripped paint as he backed away, his wings mantling for flight. "You think your little witch can fix what's already been broken? The darkness has spread further than you know. Further than even Heaven can reach."
"Running away?" Camael taunted. His Sword of Light was ready for whatever play his brother might make. "That's not very archangel of you."
"Oh, I'm not running." That smile promised more trouble than a demon with daddy issues. "I'm just choosing a better battlefield. When we meet again? Your witch won't be able to save you." Jeremiel disappeared in a burst of power that left traces of evil in the air like a bad perfume.
"Amelia!" Camael barked out as he carved through another wave of ugly. "Force these angels toward the central courtyard. We need them contained, not destroyed."
His witch didn't miss a beat. Her power shifted, and she began herding the corrupted angels like the world's most badass supernatural sheepdog. Her moves were precise and lethal as she drove them exactly where they needed to go. "Form the circle!" Camael ordered his fellow archangels. His blade kept any smart-ass angels from breaking ranks. "We're going to give these boys a chance at redemption whether they want it or not."
Michael materialized beside him. He was ready to smite them all. The betrayal was crushing him "A containment sphere? That's your play?"
"It’s better than killing our own. None of them made this choice. Jeremiel turned his choice into a virus that spread like wildfire." Camael's wings spread wide as he directed the loyalist forces. "Do you really want to add mass casualties to that stack?" He gestured to the dead all around them.
Michael shook his head and got to work. They created the circle, which allowed Amelia to form the containment. The entire thing went down faster than an alcoholic's New Year's resolution. Corrupted angels found themselves trapped in a bubble .
"These are your problem now," Camael told the assembled archangels as the last of the fallen were secured. He was already moving toward Amelia. She looked ready to face-plant into Heaven's marble. "I've got bigger fish to fry."
"Meaning?" Michael's voice carried enough don't-fuck-with-me authority to make lesser beings spontaneously combust.
"Meaning Jeremiel and Lucifer are still out there," Camael fired back as he gathered his witch close. "And somebody's got to put those sons of bitches back in their boxes. I’m going to finish this." The unspoken "try to stop me" hung in the air like a dare. Even Michael knew better than to argue when Camael had that look in his eyes.