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Before I can move, Asmo steps up beside me, grabbing my hand.
“My father and the others will hold them off, but you need to come with me.”
Light flashes bright around us and when the light fades, I find Kai stretched across our bed in the tent. The healers work to stop the bleeding from the wound, caused by a blade slipping between his armor plates and piercing his flesh. He’s out cold, his head limp as they lift him up to place something beneath his back.
I’m motionless until Asmo attempts to pull me against his chest, but I quickly push him away. I don’t need comfort. I need air. I need to breathe to feel like my heart isn’t cracking. There’s nothing he could give me that would help.
Stepping forward, I take my husband’s weak, clammy hand in both of mine, squeezing for a second, as if I could somehow hold him in this realm.
“Will he live?” I ask, my voice calm as I wipe at the tears silently streaming down my cheeks.
The healers don’t answer, instead they ignore me and continue working. My hand darts out before I can think better of it, snatching up one by the throat. My grip tightens until his eyes bulge and his hands claw at mine.
“I said…Will he live?”Pushing the words through my gritted teeth, I see the slight nod and let him breath, dropping him in a heap to the floor. “He better, or your life ends alongside his.”
Bending, I place a kiss on Kai’s forehead, letting my magic flow through him to give him strength. As I stand once more, I level those loitering in the room with a glare and shove out of the tent. I only make it a few feet before Asmo places a hand on my shoulder. “Alice… This isn’t their fault.”
Shrugging him off, sword in hand, I ignore his pleas and I do as I should’ve done the moment I saw Michael. I channel the anger coursing through me.
“Think about what you’re doing,” he warns, jogging to keep pace with me as I head toward where I saw Michael last. Screams tear through the camp, and I know instantly what they meet. “It was an angel blade, but he’ll heal. It didn’t hit anything important. It’ll take time, but he’ll be alright.”
“Get them out of here. Fall back to the castle,” I command, and Asmo grits his teeth, stopping his pursuit. “Try not to get yourself killed. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Come or don’t. Either way, the blonde bitch dies today.” I head toward the noise, watching as Michael slices through person after person, his body bathed in blood. What remains of his angels stretch out to his sides, flank him. Beyond them, the fields are filled with the dead.
Flames take flight, licking off my flesh and waving through my hair as Michael spots me. My hand tightens on my sword as I hold his gaze, not bothering to run like the rest. The moment my people are out of the way, I swirl my wrist, drowning myself in magic until it claws at my throat.
Michael strides forward, dragging his sword and letting the blade scratch with every passing step against the ground. The veins around my eyes swim, and I don’t bother to hide my demonic side. I want him to see me, all of me, and know it was me who ended him.
My lungs fight to inflate, only allowing me shallow breaths as tears continue to slip down my cheeks. I’ve always been an angry crier… but this feels different. Power floods my being until I feel like I’ll burst at the seams and all it will take is one snarky remark to light the fuse.
Tick…
Tick…
“Don’t cry,” he coos from a distance. “You’ll join him soon.”
Boom.
41
Alice
The explosion that ripples from my being drags up the ground, causing the crust of Hell to roll like a tidal wave, pulling open a crevasse until a crater forms, so deep that molten lava boils up from below.
Fire burns through the fields, the raging footprint of my power putting the forest I burned to bits when my spellbinding broke to shame. Black smoke coils through the air, singing my nose with the stench of burnt ozone. The tents are gone, all that’s left are me and Michael, and his men. Shadows crawl across the scorched ground as Lucifer’s horns clear the hilltop, and slowly he steps into view as each of his puppets chooses a match, leveling the playing field.
Spinning and slamming down with my foot, I pulse out power as my sword slices through the air, colliding with his and sending him backward. His feet bury into the dirt as he thrusts forward. His sword moves with utter grace as his whips and slices, making my bones groan under the strength of his assault. Still, I keep fighting, meeting him blow for blow.
His movements are deadly, as our armor clatters. Pulling magic to me, bolts of energy wind up my sword, and slither over him until he’s forced to step back. If he grunts, I don’t hear it. My ears are pounding from the blood rushing through my veins and the hum of magic. The air tastes sweet, even though it’s tinged with the burning carnage around us.
All it takes is a moment of hesitation on his part, and I lift my hands. His sword shatters like glass, falling in splinters to the ground. His eyes meet mine as I step forward, striking the sword that’s been spelled to level immortals to ruin. He lifts his armored forearms to meet my blade.
Michael manages to get to his feet, pulling his wings free as if he’s about to escape. I slice down, mustering every ounce of strength I can, but he blocks it. Using my new party trick, I materialize a dagger, simple but basic enough, on the drop of a dime and stab it into the large curved muscle of his wing, sinking it to the bone.
“You’re not flying anyway,” I say, ripping the serrated blade out and watching the silver blood pour from the wound. Silver… How beautiful. His foot kicks up, slamming against my middle. I fold, staggering backward as his iron fist connects with my jaw. Blood sprays from my mouth, pain radiating through me until it feels like I can’t breathe. My teeth pull free from where they’re buried inside my tongue as I turn back to Michael, blocking his next blow with my magic.
My body trembles, high on the power, adrenaline, and pain coursing through my veins. I beat him backward, blow for blow, until he teeters on the edge of the split in the ground. My sword ticks up and the point hovers just above the skin of his throat.
