Page 9

CHAPTER 9

T he sun hadn't quite cleared the horizon when Camael felt the first pulse hit his supernatural radar. The mansion's war room was crowded as his Angels of Retribution gathered around maps of the city. Coffee cups littered every surface while they tracked demonic movements that were starting to look like a coordinated assault rather than their usual random chaos.

"This isn't their usual clusterfuck," Rami observed as Izzy marked another incursion point on the map. His fingers traced the locations. "They're setting up a tactical grid. Lucifer has these bastards actually using a strategy."

"Since when do these hellspawn bastards understand strategy?" Malachi demanded from his position by the window. His wings twitched with barely contained energy. "Far as I know, demons operate on pure fucking chaos. Attack first, think never. That's their motto."

"Since Lucifer decided to play chess instead of checkers," Az cut in. His normally jovial expression was replaced by the kind of focus that made demon lords nervous. "The Prince of Lies is running this shit show personally. And trust me, that sonofabitch didn't spend millennia frozen in Hell's favorite ice cube tray playing solitaire. He's been planning this since before most of us learned to fly."

Camael nodded and changed the discussion before it became a bitch session. He had no patience to listen to any whining. "Look at these formation patterns. They're setting up kill boxes," he observed.

Before anyone could respond, power slammed through the mansion's wards like a supernatural battering ram. The magical sensors Amelia and the Rowan sisters had cast over their setup lit up brighter than a supernova in an empty void. Multiple attack points flared to life across the city map like someone had thrown blood on the tactical display.

"Son of a bitch." The curse ripped from Camael's throat as understanding hit him hard. His ice-blue eyes narrowed on the tactical display as pieces clicked into place with brutal clarity. "The Prince of Lies is running a divide and conquer play."

That's exactly what this was. A carefully orchestrated assault designed to stretch one of Heaven's most elite fighting forces thinner than cellophane. Lucifer knew Camael would have to split his warriors between attack sites. It was fucking textbook military strategy. The kind you learned commanding celestial armies, not running demon hordes.

Amelia chose that moment to burst through the double doors, taking his breath away and distracting him. The Twilight Key blazed at her throat. It threw off enough power to make the chandelier crystals sing. Magic crackled around her hands in a display that would've made Heaven's generals take notes. She moved to the tactical display with the kind of lethal grace that did things to his concentration.

"They're making a move." Those green eyes of hers swept the map like she was memorizing enemy positions. She let out a low whistle. "And this shit's coordinated."

"Yeah." Camael's wings manifested as fury leaked through his careful control. "These bastards are hitting seven sites simultaneously. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if they’re running special ops tactics that would fit in Michael's playbook." His jaw clenched hard enough to crack granite.

Amelia cocked her head to the side. "Is this Lucifer? Or has someone been studying Heaven's battle plans?"

“Lucifer knows Michael’s plays like the back of his hand. And he’s had a lot of time to brood and think about things,” Camael replied at the same time the triplets materialized in the doorway like they'd been summoned by the threat of violence.

Their red wings filled the space with deadly grace. Without a word, they moved to join the rest in the war room. Their ancient eyes missed nothing as they analyzed the threat matrix. Araton tapped a spot on the map. "The Warehouse District is crawling with hostiles," he reported. "They're using the abandoned buildings as staging areas. My brothers and I counted at least three hundred of the uglies setting up shop."

“They’ve also fixated on an Arcane bookstore in the Quarter,” Abraxos relayed.

"That's not the worst of it," Ayil added. "These bastards are organized. They're moving with military precision."

"Incoming from St. Louis Cathedral." Jo's curse interrupted the conversation as her fingers flew across tactical displays. "And this ain't your standard demonic fuckery. We're getting readings that are making our most sophisticated tracking spells short-circuit."

"Perfect." Zach's voice dripped enough sarcasm to drown a demon lord. His blade sang through the air as he tested its edge. "Guess the good old days of chasing soul-suckers down Bourbon are officially over."

They couldn’t let this get any more out of control while he looked for a way to keep the troops together. Innocents would die. "Araton, take your brothers and lock down the Warehouse District," Camael instructed as he got down to business. “Those tunnels beneath the buildings are a ready-made demon highway straight into our backyard. Jo, Az - establish overwatch by the river in the Quarter. The rest of us will coordinate with the Dark Warriors to cover the rest. Move like you mean it."

"The Cathedral?" Amelia's power crackled around her hands as she shrugged into her warded leather jacket. It was covered in enough protective sigils to give Hell's R&D department nightmares.

"That's yours." He told her. He worried for her safety, but the commander in him knew she was their best shot. "Take a team. If we lose that foundation, the whole city's spiritual infrastructure comes down like a house of cards."

"I’d like Cassiel with me." She checked her magical arsenal with practiced efficiency. "His visions might give us an edge before shit goes sideways."

"Done. Take Remi for muscle." His ice-blue eyes swept their gathered forces. "This is an all-out offensive, people. These bastards aren't here to window shop."

The Angels of Retribution kitted themselves out in record time. Black armor shot through with Heaven's power replaced jeans and t-shirts. The air crackled with barely contained violence as they prepared for war. Camael grabbed Amelia’s hand and led the way through the French doors. They’d cleared the patio furniture to give them a launch site.

"Keep the property damage to a minimum this time," Rami called after the triplets as they launched skyward. Their red wings cut through the darkness like bloody comets. "I'm tired of fixing ‘ventilation holes’. The Preservation Society is going to notice one of these days."

"Like you can talk," Abraxos fired back before they disappeared into the gathering storm. Their synchronized assault would turn anything in their path into an oil slick.

The AORs deployed across New Orleans like divine vengeance with a plan. Camael tracked their movements through the bonds he had with each of them as he made his way across town. His warriors carved paths through streets older than some countries. He trusted they were cleaning up as they went. They didn’t have time to go back and ensure they left nothing for humans to find.

The Dark Warriors had split up to fortify key positions. Camael caught sight of Aison's massive wolf guarding Café du Monde's strategic corner. Slate materialized between attack waves across Jackson Square. His vampire speed turned him into deadly precision as he eliminated threats faster than human eyes could track.

Camael landed on Royal Street. He didn’t have time to get his bearings when the first assault hit like a tactical nuke. Class Five demons - the kind that didn’t think for themselves - emerged from the alleys. Taking them out should be easy.

Camael's Sword of Light sang through the night as he engaged. His blade sliced through ranks that moved with military coordination. That should have been impossible with these demons. Their brains weren’t big enough to teach them something so detailed. Yet, each strike was calculated. Every one of their movements was purposeful. He recognized combat formations that came from Michael's advanced training manual.

"These bastards are running Special Forces plays!" Mal's curse carried over the comms and over the sound of his blade separating a Throne-class demon .

"Then we need to show them why they can’t just copy a fucking manual!" Jo shouted over the comms.

Camael didn’t respond. He’d divided his focus between immediate threats around him and the Cathedral where Amelia led her team. He spun and cut a sheti demon in half. During his rotation, he caught sight of the church where Amelia was going. Its presence dominated the Quarter's skyline. Camael could feel the power vibrating from its ancient stones. He couldn’t worry about Amelia because a gharax demon chose that moment to test his concentration.

The creature had a crystalline bone structure and molecular acid for blood. It moved like it was a ballet dancer. It dodged Camael’s first strike. He was forced to drop to the ground when it swiped an arm through the air. The creature’s modified anatomy designed specifically for taking down winged opponents. Camael wasn’t about to let it win and renewed his efforts. They danced around one another until he got lucky and his blade cut through the demon’s center. Its death scream redecorated Decatur Street with shattered glass.

"Boss!" Rami's voice carried raw urgency through the comms. "The situation is critical on Bourbon!"

"Define critical." Camael launched skyward. His wings caught updrafts that gave him a tactical advantage.

"Remember that clusterfuck in Prague? The one that leveled three blocks of the Old Town?" Raw tension threaded through Rami's voice. "That thing's bigger cousin just crashed our party. And it brought enough friends to start its own demon social club."

Camael headed that way. A grim site unfolded below him. The French Quarter had transformed into ground zero for supernatural warfare. These bastards used century-old wrought iron like they'd studied parkour in Hell's elite training program .

"They're stepping around every countermeasure we planted with tactical precision," Az reported in a voice tight with controlled fury.

A psychic scream from the Cathedral's direction yanked his attention in the opposite direction. Amelia's team had clearly engaged something that made his ancient blood run cold. "Call in the Dark Warriors, Rami. I’m needed elsewhere,” Camael ordered as he turned around. His blood ran cold when he saw the Leviathan-class demon. It towered three stories high, and its armored carapace reflected streetlights like polished obsidian.

"Little help here!" Cassiel's voice carried over the comm as he engaged the beast. The monster was capable of shrugging off divine steel like it was facing down a paper cut.

"I’m almost there,” Camael replied. “Hold that line!"

Elite shock troops materialized between him and his target. Their weapons pulsed with demonic energy that sang with a familiar resonance. The fight that followed redefined celestial warfare. Camael hit those shock troops like wrath personified. His blade sang death's favorite aria as he carved through ranks that moved with battlefield precision. His need to get to Amelia made him twice as deadly. The troops didn’t stand a chance.

"These bastards are really pissing me off," Rami observed as he joined the fray. His sword took a demon's head while Camael's follow-through turned its partner into a pile of parts.

"You and me both," Camael growled. "There is no doubt they’re running plays straight out of Michael's private collection."

"Woah." Rami's expression could've frozen hellfire as he held up a weapon one of the troops had dropped. The blade was pure celestial steel. It held some of Lucifer’s corruption but also divine energy. "This isn't scavenged hardware. "

"A warrior's blade?" Camael examined the weapon.

"Check the maker's mark." Rami turned the weapon so he could see more.

Camael was shocked to see the sigil etched into the blade's base. The signature belonged to Heaven's master artificer. He crafted weapons for the Archangel Council themselves. "Motherfucker." The curse flew from his mouth. "We've got more than a leak upstairs. We've got a full-blown traitor."

"This is fresh work." Rami's gesture encompassed the blade's pristine craftsmanship. "Someone's running an active supply line straight to the enemy."

Power surged through the Quarter like a metaphysical tsunami. It was light and shadow combined. His heart skipped as he noticed Amelia's hybrid magic lighting up the landscape. He hoped she had kicked the Leviathan’s ass. And was reinforcing the Cathedral's defenses.

"The spy can wait." Camael launched skyward with enough force to crater centuries-old pavement. His wings cut through humid air as he vectored toward his witch.

The scene that greeted him made his ancient blood run cold. Amelia stood on the church steps with light and shadow dancing around her hands as she faced down two Leviathan-class demons. The Key at her throat glowed like captured twilight while Remi and Cassiel fought back-to-back behind her. Their blades were streaked black with ichor as they held a perimeter against what looked like two dozen hellhounds.

Camael didn't hesitate. He hit the enemy ranks full force. His Sword of Light carved through demon flesh faster than thought. The first two fell before they registered his presence. The third managed to get its blade up in time to catch his strike, but Camael's follow-through separated its head from its shoulders .

"About time you joined the party." Amelia's power surged as she turned one of the Leviathans into black goo. Sweat darkened her hair, and her chest was heaving. Yet, her aim was dead-on as she targeted the weak spots in demonic armor.

"Traffic was hell." He moved to cover her six. His wings created a barrier of protection between her and incoming threats. Together, they carved a path through ranks that had studied advanced combat forms. His blade sang Death's favorite song while her magic made them wish they’d stayed home.

The battle stretched until the sky began to lighten. By the time dawn painted the cathedral spires in shades of gold and crimson, they’d vanquished the enemy. Camael surveyed the area, ensuring there was nothing but scorch marks. The church's walls bore scars from the fight, but its foundations stood firm. His warriors gathered around them. Their weapons were still at ready despite the victory.

"Time to do some spring-cleaning upstairs," Rami said as he turned the blade in his hands.

"Priority one is containment. We have to stop Lucifer." Camael's ice-blue eyes swept their gathered forces. "Luke, if there are areas not already cleaned, erase any evidence before the Quarter wakes up and starts their ghost tours."

"We’re already coordinating cleanup with the Rowan sisters and the local coven," the sorcerer replied.

“We can leave that to the Dark Warriors.” Jo shook her head. "Our security protocols need a complete overhaul."

"And we need to figure out who's running a celestial arms bazaar for the other side," Mal added.

Amelia moved to Camael's side like she belonged there. Power still danced around her hands as she glared at the spot where one of the Leviathans fell. "Someone with high-level access just armed our enemies with weapons crafted to kill angels," she snarled. "The game just changed."

"Yeah." His wings shifted with barely contained violence as he pulled her closer. "Something tells me this was just a test." Above them, the New Orleans sun continued rising. The city was waking up, completely unaware that their streets had just hosted a preview of the war to come.