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All her words, all the thoughts moved through him, settling in, rotating slowly, a carousel. There had to be more than a reason to fight . . . there had to be someone to fight for. And that one heart was all that was needed.
The memory of me . . . I will hold it for you . . .
He put back his head and cried out. Somewhere in the middle, the cry of grief expanded, included not just her but all the rest. And then it became a roar of intent, a tidal wave of energy that rippled out through the air, causing the fault lines below the canyon to rumble in warning. His rage was fueled not only by him, but by those he'd lost. He stood with Alexander's fierce countenance on his left, Ronin's feral smile on his right, Diego giving him a sure nod from the head of his battalion, as if they and all the others were somewhere inside of him, drawing their swords, at his back and prepared to charge into battle with him once more. He could almost hear Ronin. You about ready to do this?
Get back.
It had the power of thunder, the command he sent out and into the sky above him. His angels obeyed instantly, disengaging, falling back from the Dark Ones. Their unquestioning loyalty and trust took him beyond words or even thoughts, overwhelmed him like a flood, gave even more power to what he could unleash.
They'd always been connected to him. It was he who had turned from them. But now he could give them that love back, along with his own loyalty, not only to those in the sky but to the reason they fought.
It was the Goddess and more than the Goddess. It was in everything each one of them chose to love. They each fought for themselves, as well as for Her. Hadn't Anna as much as said it? Ronin and Alexander had followed him, but they had their own reasons for believing.
Feeling and structure, Jonah. Let the feeling back in and the balance is restored.
The second of confusion from their enemies was all he needed. Jonah spun into the air, charging his sword. There was a heartbeat, a blink, and the lightning forked from a hundred places in the sky, arrowing down into the point of his weapon, blinding the Dark Ones but not masking the danger they were in. The front lines were already scrambling back, but he could circle Earth in the time it took them to have a malevolent thought.
While he could incinerate the world in a thought, wielding power over a certain level was too dangerous, because of the control it required and the impact of the aftershocks. Nature had limits, always.
Today, however, he had no qualms. The wall of flame roared up and out like a wave of water, chasing them down as they scrambled back screaming, trying to scrabble over each other. His retribution engulfed nearly a third of them, incinerating the first ten rows of their army in a firestorm of flesh and shrieks. The sky darkened with the smoke, and the angels were on the move again, darting here and there to obliterate the ash so it didn't fall and defile the earth.
He was on the wrong side of this battlefield. But as the fire of his light ebbed, Jonah knew he couldn't leave her here, where any Dark One could lay his filth upon her. Scooping her body up in one arm, holding her against his side, his wings took him into the air. Some of the Dark Ones from beneath had moved to intercept in a foolish attempt to stop him. He cleaved the first that threw itself at him with a deft upward slice of the sword and felt his heart twist at the shower of vile blood that spattered her hair.
He fought his way through several more, until he was where other angels could surround him, protect the vulnerable side where he held her. How delighted she'd have been to fly like this, to see the amazing spectacle of the angels sweeping and darting, like a magnificent phalanx of chimney swifts, eliminating the ash of the Dark Ones.
Now, though, they were moving back, regrouping. Unfortunately, the Dark Ones still had overwhelming numbers and too much invested to retreat. They were re-forming ranks, leaving the angels more to fight.
The angels also were re-forming ranks. While his place was with them, first he found a wounded Mina, lying upon a ledge, watched over by several angels of David's division. The battered lieutenant was there himself, on point with bows and arrows. Lucifer's doing, he was sure, as certain as he was that his quiet yet determined lieutenant had not agreed to it easily. Having the seawitch to protect was the only thing that ensured David would obey Lucifer once the battle started. Another reason that it was a boon the witch had joined them.
Jonah would put Anna down there. While he didn't want to upset Mina with the body of her friend, he knew the witch would protect even Anna's lifeless form with her last breath. That would give David another reason to stay put, which his Prime Commander was about to reinforce, with threats if need be.
As Jonah dropped toward that ledge, his heart leaped in his throat. The body in his arms moved, the skin beginning to heat beneath his palms, rapidly.
Damn it all. He cursed as another small group of Dark Ones from below swarmed upon him. He swung the sword through them like a battle-axe, snarling, even as he felt the energy from Anna's body shifting, burning.
David's men were trying to get a bead on the ones closing in on him, but they didn't want to hit him with their arrows. In his mind, he heard David calling Lucifer for backup and hand-to-hand fighters.
Light erupted in his arms, flame gleaming with the purity of gold. Rays shot out in all directions, as though he held a sun in his arms. The Dark Ones in the way of its blast were consumed, and the angels in the cross fire cried out in surprise, but the fire was purity and they were not harmed. In fact, their faces, as they swooped in around him to help get him to the ledge, were momentarily etched in all their perfection, both the planes of bone and expressions. The physical and the spiritual. It was dazzling, like a painting on the walls of a cathedral, depicting the heavenly host, dauntless in the defense of their Creator.
Then flame became blue, cleansing smoke, rushing over his skin with the fluidity and speed of water. In its rush, he felt the sun begin to shimmer, disintegrate.
No.
A moment ago, he'd known she was dead, but that eruption of energy gave him a hope that was shattered like a knife unnecessarily twisted in a fatal wound as her body dissolved into particles of gold flame. There were thousands of them, like stardust shimmering through the air, a whirling vortex that swirled around Jonah, coated his blade, sank into the few wounds he'd sustained, and charged his body with his purpose, gave it one single focus.
End this. Be who you know you are meant to be.
The deepest wish of her heart, the last message from her soul. His mermaid who, if given any wish, might have wished Ariel to win the love of the prince, or her own mother to find hope in the love of her child. Or an angel to find himself and return to the skies to do what he was created to do.
The shimmering pieces drifted away on the air.
Jonah.
It was Lucifer. Also Michael, who'd brought the western flank of their army. He'd apparently given Lucifer the center, since that contingent would have met Jonah first, if the Dark Ones had been successful.
Jonah knew Anna would say he couldn't linger, but he could not keep himself from watching some of the gold flecks drift across his skin, the rest moving down the cliff side, carried by the wind in a thick, spiraling arc toward Mina.
Great Lady, the blood. He was close enough now to realize the wound he'd dealt the witch had been mortal. While he couldn't say he still fully understood Mina's motives, for this battle Anna's faith in her friend had been justified. And the strike of his blade was rapidly taking her life from her.
Pushing the weight of guilt and grief to the back of his mind, knowing he would have to face both later, he winged up, sparing a nod to a grim-looking David.
Lucifer's ebony wings were outstretched in an intimidating display as he hovered, reaper's blade in one hand, a foot-long dagger in the other. Jonah's men were arrayed behind him in a streamer of silver weaponry, wings holding them in formation, ready to launch forward.
At his approach, a wave of triumphant calls erupted all along their ranks, a shouting welcome that moved him enough he could only m
anage another short nod to them, a lifted hand.
As he came to Lucifer's side, he cleared his throat. "I thought you said it would be a cold day in your Hell before you would come to my aid again."
"Well, you'll note I came to kill you, not to aid you." Luc shrugged. The wind fluttering through the sash around the reaper's blade drew Jonah's attention, a moment before the scarf raised its head and became the venomous form of a crimson snake. It hissed, its fangs baring.
"That would have distracted me."
"That was the plan. I'm glad I can now use it on someone who, while not less deserving, is far less pretty."
Don't let him fool you. He missed you.
David's voice was clear in his mind. Jonah glanced down at the ledge. His lieutenant shot him a strained smile before returning to the preparation of his arrows, looking like a fierce Cupid, checking his array of daggers as well. Apparently determined to protect the witch as long as life remained in her.
