Page 7

CHAPTER 7

C amael took his time walking through the mansion's east wing as he made his way to the training room. His boots were silent on the marble floors, and his shoulders were tight with tension that had nothing to do with the upcoming session. The mansion was quiet except for the faint sounds of the other AORs going about their duties. He could hear Rami and Malachi discussing how to remove demon ichor from marble. They were arguing about the use of something pink. Camael didn’t have the patience for that shit.

His mind kept circling back to Amelia's progress with the artifacts. Every hour, she grew stronger and more confident with powers she discovered less than seventy-two hours before. The way she wove light and shadow together was stunning. It called to something in him that he'd been fighting since the moment they met.

The training room door was open, and late afternoon sunlight spilled across the reinforced floors. Amelia was already there. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail as she worked through basic forms. The Key hung around her neck and pulsed with power.

She sensed him before he spoke. Her green eyes met his in the mirror that lined one wall. "You're late, Archangel."

"A commander's work is never done." He shrugged out of his leather jacket and dropped it in the doorway. The way her eyes traveled over his black t-shirt threatened to distract him. Shaking his head, he said, "Show me what you've been practicing."

Instead of responding, she let power gather in her hands. Light danced in her right palm while shadow swirled in her left. The two forces twined together with growing confidence. They painted the room in shades of twilight.

"Better," he rumbled as he moved behind her. "But you're still holding back. These powers are part of you. Stop treating them like they might bite."

Her laugh carried an edge of frustration. "Says the male who was born to channel divine energy. Some of us are still learning to juggle forces that shouldn't mix."

"Then let me help." He stepped closer. He was close enough that his chest brushed her back. His hands settled on her shoulders. His thumbs automatically pressed into tension-tight muscles. "Close your eyes. Feel how the energies want to move."

The contact sent awareness shooting through him that had nothing to do with training and everything to do with how right she felt against him. Her breath caught as he let his power flow into her. It steadied her connection to both light and shadow.

"That's it," he murmured as she began to move. Her hands traced patterns in the air that grew more complex with each pass. Light and shadow responded. They wove together like they'd never been separated.

The Key around her neck blazed to life and added its ancient power to the mix. The resulting surge lit up the training room like someone had captured twilight in a bottle. Camael's wings manifested without conscious thought. They spread wide as her magic called to his very essence.

"Holy hell," she breathed as the energies stabilized into something new. Something that hadn't existed since before time learned to crawl. "Is this what it's supposed to feel like?"

"Yes." His voice dropped to a place that made windows rattle. Having her in his arms and channeling power that complemented his own was doing things to him. His lack of control should have terrified him. Instead, it felt right. Inevitable.

She turned in his grip. Those green eyes of hers were dark with possibilities that had nothing to do with training. Her hands settled on his chest, and the power still dancing around her fingers sent electricity straight to his core. "Camael." His name on her lips was both question and answer.

In response, he lowered his head and claimed her lips. The kiss felt like divine lightning meeting mortal flame. His hands tangled in her hair as he claimed her mouth with all the hunger he'd been holding back. She met him with equal passion. She rose on her toes to press closer.

Power surged between them and made the Key pulse against her chest like a second heartbeat. His wings curled forward, creating a cocoon of white feathers that shut out the world. Everything narrowed down to the feel of her in his arms. The taste of her on his tongue. And the way their energies danced together like they'd been made for this moment.

Her hands slid up his chest to lock behind his neck. She pulled him deeper into the kiss. He growled low in his throat as desire shot through him hot enough to rival hellfire. This female made him forget he was one of Heaven's deadliest archangels. She made him feel things he never dreamed he would.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted her effortlessly. Their bodies were pressed together. The room around them faded. The mansion walls were replaced by the heat building between them. She gripped his shoulders. Her nails dug into his skin through his shirt as she pressed her body closer.

"Amelia." His voice was wrecked and shredded like his control. He forced himself to put space between their mouths. Though his hands refused to release her. The male in him needed to know. Was this just battle adrenaline or magical fusion? Or was she genuinely afire for him the way he'd been burning for her. His eyes locked onto hers, searching for any hesitation. "You sure about this?"

Her fingers twisted in his shirt. The fierce certainty in those green eyes of hers hit him harder than celestial steel. That slow smile of hers? It was pure female confidence. The kind that could bring an archangel to his knees.

"You and me?" she breathed against his mouth. "Makes all this Key stuff feel like a backup plan."

Holy hell. Those words reached straight past his warrior's armor and grabbed hold of something he hadn't known he could feel. The truth of them sang through his blood like divine fire. A growl rumbled low in his throat as he captured her mouth again.

This time, with a hunger that left no room for doubt. He pressed her against the wall. The cool surface was a sharp contrast to the heat of their bodies. His hands slid beneath the hem of her damp training top. He paused briefly before tugging it over her head and discarding it on the floor.

Her hands roamed up his back, pulling his shirt with them. Her touch ignited a fire under his skin as he tugged the fabric over his head. When her lips trailed down to his chest, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his skin, Camael’s control slipped further.

His palms found her hips, then slid lower to grab handfuls of her ass. The friction of her core grinding against him sent jolts of pleasure through his body. “Amelia,” he rasped. His forehead rested against hers for a brief moment of clarity. “If you want me to stop, say so now.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. A sly smile tugged at her lips. “You talk too much.” She reached back and unclasped her bra then let it fall to the ground.

With a growl of approval, he lifted her higher. His lips trailed down to press kisses along the swell of her breasts. Her breath hitched. Her moans became soft and pleading as his mouth closed around one nipple. He teased it with his tongue.

Her legs fell away from his waist. He took the opportunity to slide her pants and underwear down, inch by agonizing inch. His cock jerked in his pants when they fell in a damp heap on the floor. He lifted her and grabbed her butt. She squirmed beneath his touch. Her hands fisted in his hair as she arched into him.

“Do you need something?” he asked in a tease as his fingers trailed between her thighs.

“You wicked angel,” she groaned. “I need you to rub my clit and fuck me.”

Camael’s lips quirked into a faint smile as he shucked his boots and jeans in record time. “How’s this?” he asked as he aligned his body with hers.

She lifted one leg, making him press the tip of his shaft against her slick entrance. Her gasp sent a jolt of satisfaction through him and shredded any remaining reticence. “Yes,” she hissed. “Make me forget for fifteen minutes.”

The raw vulnerability in her voice gave him pause. He knew exactly what she meant. He needed the same thing. To forget the weight of their mission and the world-changing powers growing inside of her.

“I’ll do more than that,” he vowed.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she bit down gently on his bottom lip. Her hips rocked against him in a silent demand. He growled and lifted her until their bodies were aligned. He wanted to prepare her more, but her slick entrance told him she could take him now. Next time, he would taste her first. He slid inside her inch by inch until he was fully seated. For a brief moment, he stilled, the sensation of her surrounding him was overwhelming. It was home. That was the first word that came to mind. It was unexpected clarity amidst the chaos. She felt like home.

Her moan broke him from his thoughts, and he began to move. He was slow and deliberate at first. But her cries of pleasure spurred him on, and his pace quickened as he pressed her harder against the wall. Her hands slid to his back. A hoarse cry tore from his throat when her fingers brushed the joint where his wings met his back.

The sensation was unlike anything he’d felt before. It sent shocks of pleasure racing through him. He thrust harder. His lips found hers again as he poured everything into the kiss. Their tongues slid together as he moved in and out of her. He floated in pleasure for what felt like an eternity and then her body tightened around him. She broke away from his mouth and threw her head back. Her cries built in volume as he reached down to circle her clit with his thumb. “Come for me,” he commanded in a rough and desperate voice.

Amelia shattered in his arms. Her body clenched around him as she cried out his name. The sensation pushed him over the edge. His release tore through him with a force that left him trembling.

He rested his forehead against her shoulder. His breaths were coming in ragged gasps as they both came down from the high. Lowering her gently to the floor, he brushed a kiss against her temple. “That was…” she started in a breathless voice but her words trailed off when the Key screamed a warning against her skin.

Evil energy pulsed through the city's spiritual foundation. Camael felt it in his bones. Lucifer was spreading his particular brand of corruption through New Orleans. “He’s tainting the ley lines like poison in the water,” Amelia said in answer of his unasked question.

"Son of a bitch," he growled as he forced himself to focus on the threat rather than how badly he wanted to lay her down and love her properly. "Lucifer's becoming a pain in my ass." He picked up her clothing and handed it to her before stuffing his legs into his jeans.

The second she was done getting dressed, Amelia was moving. Her power was gathering around her hands as she headed for the stairs. "We can’t let him infect all of the ley line nexus points. The city will be lost if he manages that."

“Thank God you know what you’re doing. We’d have been picking our asses and making futile guesses until the city fell,” Camael told her honestly.

They raced through the mansion, alerting the others as they went. The AORs mobilized with practiced efficiency. Their weapons materialized as they gathered in the foyer. Outside, the sun was setting over New Orleans. The sky was ominously painted shades of blood and gold.

"The Garden District is ground zero," Rami reported as he looked up from his phone. "Izzy thinks the bastard's using the old money mansions as anchor points for his spell work."

“He must be using the ones closest to the nexus points there,” Amelia interjected.

"Of course he is," Mal muttered as he checked his blade. "Anyone else miss the days when demons just wanted to eat souls? "

Jo chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Those were the simple days.”

Camael's Sword of Light blazed to life in his grip as he issued orders. His power saturated the air and turned it sub-zero as he faced his warriors. "Listen up." His voice carried enough don't-fuck-with-me authority to make Hell itself take notes. "We've got multiple nexus points about to go nuclear with Lucifer's corruption. Every one of these bastards needs lockdown and they need it yesterday."

"There are seven." Amelia's power crackled around her as she cut in. The Key at her throat was pulsing like a warning beacon. "Commander's Palace, Lafayette Cemetery Number One, the Buckner Mansion, St. Louis Cathedral, Gallier House, Hermann-Grima House, and the Beauregard-Keyes House."

The witch's intel hit harder than a sledgehammer to stained glass. Seven points meant spreading his warriors thin as hell. Thankfully, this wasn't a democracy because time was giving them the middle finger.

"Partner up and move out." His voice carried enough don't-even-think-about-arguing to make lesser beings piss themselves. His hard gaze swept his crew and the triplets. "The witch and I are taking Buckner. About time we showed Lucifer what happens when he brings this shit to my witch’s city."

They launched skyward like Heaven's most lethal strike force. Their wings cut through night air thick with power that had been locked away for longer than Camael could remember. Below them, St. Charles Avenue's historic mansions were getting a makeover straight from Hell's decorator. Darkness writhed through old money real estate like living ink. It turned Southern charm into supernatural nightmare fuel.

The first "oh shit" moment hit them at First Street. Some piece of demonic artwork was treating a centuries-old oak like its personal charge port. The bastard looked like someone had grabbed raw flesh, given it teeth, and told it to go play in the sandbox.

The thing was mainlining evil straight into one of the Garden District's oldest trees. The massive oak's branches were already going black. The wood was rotting faster than a demon's morals.

"You seeing this shit?" Amelia's voice carried over the wind. Her power was crackling around her hands like bottled lightning.

Yeah, he was seeing it. And his warrior's instincts were screaming that this clusterfuck wasn't random. This was a tactical play designed to split their forces even further apart.

Lucifer was making sure they'd be too busy playing whack-a-demon to stop his endgame at Buckner. Camael didn't hesitate. His blade carved through corrupted flesh while Amelia's hybrid magic disrupted the spell work. The tree's branches creaked as health returned to them.

There wasn't time to celebrate. More demons were emerging from the gathering darkness. They were being drawn by Lucifer's call like moths to hellfire. They fought their way down the mansion-lined streets. Each property became its own battlefield. Pristine lawns were turned into war zones as celestial steel met demon flesh. Camael could have wept when the Dark Warriors joined the efforts. The historic architecture had suffered enough collateral damage.

"This shit is spreading faster than we can contain it!" Rami's voice carried over the sounds of combat. He was three houses down and dealing with something that had too many teeth and a bad attitude.

Camael cursed as he registered the truth in those words. The ley lines were lighting up his supernatural radar like demonic Christmas trees. Each one pumped Lucifer's poison deeper into the city's foundations.

"We need to reach the master nexus!" Amelia called out as she turned two demons to ash. "It's under the Buckner Mansion!"

“We’re heading there now,” he told his men. “You tackle yours after this.” He held Amelia tighter and took off for their target. It wasn’t far.

The Buckner Mansion was the Garden District's crown jewel. It was a structure that had seen more history than most countries. Its white columns rose against the darkening sky like bones. Power rolled off it in waves that confused Camael. It was like it couldn’t decide which way to go.

He landed and set Amelia down. They fought their way up First Street, each step bringing them closer to the mansion. The corrupted ley lines turned the manicured gardens into something from Dante's sketchbook. Flowers twisted into shapes that shouldn't exist. The air was thick with evil that made it hard to breathe. Amelia was casting spells and throwing them into the ground, trying to clear the evil from the energy pathways.

"Incoming!" Jo's warning came seconds before something massive crashed through a row of crepe myrtles. The creature looked like someone had grabbed parts of bigfoot and a sperm whale, then welded them together with hellfire.

"I've got this!" Mal called out as he engaged the beast. His blade left trails of fire through the air. "Get to the nexus!"

Camael wanted to stay and help, but there wasn't time. Lucifer’s power was spreading with every second they delayed. They reached the Buckner Mansion's gates just as the sun disappeared completely. Night fell like a hammer. It brought with it demons that moved with hungry purpose. The historic home's white columns were now streaked with darkness that writhed like living ink .

"The nexus is in the basement," Amelia said as she channeled power through the Key. "Apparently, Lucifer's got a thing for dramatic real estate."

"Jo, Az - secure the perimeter!" Camael ordered as they approached the front steps. "Rami, you're with us. The rest of you keep these bastards off our backs while we deal with whatever's waiting inside."

The mansion's double doors exploded inward like they'd been hit with a supernatural battering ram. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the night like a gunshot. Camael shot the witch a look that could've melted steel. One dark eyebrow lifted toward his hairline. "Really, Amelia?"

Her smirk? Pure attitude with a side of 'yeah, I just did that’. She shrugged those shoulders of hers while her green eyes danced with enough mischief to make a demon blush. "What can I say? If we're gonna crash Lucifer's party, might as well make an entrance that doesn't suck." That right there was why she got to him. The female had enough brass to match her power, and neither one gave a shit about proper protocol.

"Next time," he growled as he fought back a smile that would've ruined his warrior cred, "try not to announce our arrival to every ugly in a five-mile radius."

Inside, the grand foyer had become something out of a horror movie. Shadows danced across walls that had witnessed centuries of history. They moved through the house like the warriors they were. They followed the pull of evil energy toward the basement stairs. Each step down felt like descending into Hell itself. The Prince of Lies’ power was strongest there. It pulsed through the foundation like a diseased heartbeat.

"Well, well." The voice that greeted them made Camael's wings bristle. "The prodigal brother comes to call." Crocell emerged from the shadows like she'd been born from them .

Camael stepped in front of Amelia to shield her from Crocell. “I’m here to end this, sister .”

The fallen angel's wings were something straight out of Hell's trophy room. Electric blue feathers. The kind that would make a peacock jealous, covered leathery flesh that looked like it had been dipped in sapphire poison. And those wing tips? They weren't playing. Each one ended in a curved talon sharp enough to gut a rhinoceros.

This bitch was built for maximum carnage. Those razor claws on her wings could slice you into bite-sized pieces. While her fingernails - more like surgical steel scalpels - turned your insides into your outsides faster than you could say ‘holy shit’. The whole package was a walking advertisement for why falling from grace was bad for your complexion. And worse for anyone who got within striking distance.

Those eyes of hers? Pure crazy town where the population was one fallen angel and hundreds of her minions. She had the kind of madness that made Lucifer look like he was running a mental health seminar. When she smiled, it was all fang and no fun.

Crocell ignored him and closed the distance while focusing on Amelia, who was trying to get around him. "What are you hiding?" Her voice scraped through the air like nails on Hell's chalkboard. "The big bad archangel brought his pet witch to play." That laugh of hers could've stripped paint. "How absolutely precious."

"The only thing sweet about this is going to be watching you burn," Amelia snarled as she gathered power in her hands. Light and shadow wove together into something that made even Crocell take a step back.

The fallen angel's laugh sliced through the sanctuary like liquid obsidian. "You think your parlor tricks can stop what's coming? Lucifer is going to win this, you idiots. He's using the ley lines to finish waking the Oldest Ones. "

Understanding hit Camael like a physical blow. "He's using the city's power grid to fuel their awakening."

"Give the angel a prize!" Crocell spread her corrupted wings wide. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it. The process has already begun."

Camael wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were fixed on Amelia. She had moved to the center of the basement. The Key around her neck was blazing with power that made the air vibrate. "Want to bet?" Amelia countered. Her voice carried ancient weight as she drove both hands into the floor. Light and shadow exploded from her palms and then raced through the ley lines faster than thought.

The power surge lit up the spiritual landscape like a nuclear bomb. Camael felt it sweep through the city. It cleansed a lot of what Lucifer had corrupted and reinforced barriers. Crocell's scream of rage turned to fear as the magic reached for her.

"This isn't over!" she snarled before disappearing in a burst of dark energy.

Camael caught Amelia as her knees buckled. The display of power had taken its toll. He was ready to call one of the healers when her clear, determined eyes met his. "Did it work?"

He reached out with his celestial senses, checking the ley lines that ran beneath the city. Where there had been corruption, there was now balance. Light and shadow were working together like they were meant to.

"It worked." He pulled her closer, uncaring of their audience. "You did it."

"We did it," she corrected before pressing her lips to his.

The kiss was shorter than their first but carried just as much heat. When they broke apart, Rami was pointedly studying the ceiling while trying to hide a grin. "If you two are done with the celebration, we should probably help the others," he suggested. "Unless you want to explain to Michael why we let the Garden District get redecorated in Early American Hellscape."

Outside, the sounds of battle were already fading as the demons retreated. Without Lucifer’s power to draw from, they were falling back to whatever holes they'd crawled out of. Camael kept his arm around Amelia as they climbed the basement stairs.

The mansion's elegant interior was a mess of supernatural combat damage. Izzy and the other Dark Warriors approached Rami and began discussing the repairs they would help with. New Orleans' spiritual foundation was secure. For now.

This was just the beginning. Lucifer wouldn't stop until he achieved his goals or they put him down for good. The real war was still coming. He looked down at the female in his arms. This witch had stopped the Prince of Lies and somehow worked her way past every defense Camael had built. She met his gaze with that fierce determination that had drawn him from the start.

Yeah, the real war was coming. But for the first time in his endless existence, Camael was actually looking forward to it. Because this time? This time, he wasn't just fighting for Heaven or duty. This time, he was fighting for her.