Drown Another Day Page 16

  Chapter 46

  I turned my gaze around. A trio of surviving Hybrids held their ground, but were surrounded by Mermen prodding with tridents. I could see still more of the Olympian forces mounting the hill of Lastovsko park.

  It wasn’t what I saw that made me smile though. It was what I heard. The sound of high tech engines, and it sounded like they were getting closer.

  “Ever hear of a Pyrrhic victory, Hector?”

  “Pyrrhic?” I heard him ask.

  “Greek term. Thought you’d know. The short definition is: Winning a battle, but losing the war because of the costliness of that one victory.”

  As though we’d practiced to get the timing right, three jet fighters blasted past us overhead. A short moment later, explosions rang out, joined by screams of dismay. Hector turned his attention from me to see his gathered forces get hit by a barrage of missiles.

  Hector may have whooped my ass, but paying no attention to the main battle? A stalled and silent command group? His troops must have been in total disarray. Their morale shaken. Easy pickings for the determined Dagonians.

  Gripping my wand and pouring all my will into it, I rose up and slammed the tip into Hector’s enchanted marble skin. Not fast enough. Hector saw through me, and raised a palm of bronze to stop the tip.

  The screech of parted bronze and crackling stone reached my ears.

  “Not a chance,” Hector shouted, bronze hands gripping the rapier, “Even with all the Mermen in the Mediterranean dead I still can’t be harmed. No sword or spear tip can pierce marble!”

  “It’s not marble,” I replied.

  Unsteadily, my left hand drew a circle above my rapier, before gripping the hilt. The dim violet light of lesser reflect gloved about my wand, and with a defiant roar, I pushed with all my might.

  Marble cracked. Blood dripped. A look of disbelief passed over Hector’s face before coughing up an amateur horror movie worth of blood. He fell down and didn’t stir again.

  “It’s enchanted marble.”

  I rose up and turned my attention to the Angel of Death just as the USS Massachusetts drew up next to Lastovsko island with another wing of jets soaring over head. The massive gun turrets trained onto the island to flatten all opposition, and across the hill, the pure blooded Dagonians rose up from the waves victorious and eager to run their foes down.

  The betrayal of Nine Towers was avenged. The Dagonians were triumphant. The Angel totally at our mercy. We won. We won!

  “Angel of Death, your reign of chaos is over, here and now. Your henchmen are routed. Your luck’s run out. Your powers don’t mean a God damn thing against all of us. It’s over.”

  A massive clawed hand reached the top of the hill heaving to bring the massive Gloucester to bear. He snarled menacingly as the Massachusetts’ guns took aim.

  “Say your prayers, you son of a bitch.”

  An ear shattering thunder crack ensured that I would have hearing problems if I ever make it to old age. Followed swiftly by a salvo of missiles from the high flying jets. For good measure, Gloucester conjured an immense orb of ice magic, and with the finality of an executioner, sent it careening into the Angel’s position.

  The explosion was spectacular.

  Exhaustion seeped into me. My calf ached and it hurt to breathe. The cloud of dust formed by the Angel’s destruction flew far and wide.

  The taste of vengeance was cough medicine bitter. And honeycomb sweet.

  “Itabimori. Sorry it took so long,” I said.

  Smiling, I leaned against my wand rapier. I’d almost turned around to head to the victory party when I caught sight of dull yellow lights. A search squad? Looking for Hybrid survivors?

  No. It almost looked like a pair of wings.

  Another pair of lights, identical to the first lit up. Then another still as my stomach grew heavy, like I’d swallowed a stone. The dust cleared. Confusion replaced with dismay.

  Robes tattered, wings widening, the Angel of Death floated above the crater where once he stood.

  Undisturbed. Unhurt. Uncaring.

  “Feeble Eldritch. There is but one thing that awaits those who dare walk the path of rebellion,” the Angel spoke. “Death.”

  Chapter 47

  The Angel’s wings glowed with terrible light. The jets strafed for another missile barrage, but as they drew near, bright yellow rays, erupted from the Angel’s top most pair of wings. In a split second, the fighters had their cockpits seared off. Trails of smoke followed the planes all the way to the ground.

  Drawing its sword, the Angel of Death turned it’s gaze to the USS Massachusetts. Flying towards the ship as the crew on deck fired rifles fruitlessly, the Angel thrust it’s ebony sword into the hull. The blade glowed with baleful magics, scorching the surrounding armored plates red with heat, when in one effortless slash, it disemboweled the aircraft carrier.

  A moment later, the munitions bay went off in a spectacular explosion, tearing the ship in half.

  Gloucester gurgled in outrage, gripping the Angel in his hands. His massive maw of spear like teeth opened wide to bite the being in two as a flash of light exploded from the second pair of wings. When I regained my sight, I saw that Gloucester’s head was completely gone. His neck stump was little more than a smoking ruin as his limp body slowly collapsed back into the sea.

  I stared in disbelief. So easily swept aside. Like a child crushing pop cans in their hand. Stepping on bugs beneath their feet. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

  “Nine hundred, ninety eight thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine,” a voice like groaning metal spoke. “So it came about at midnight that the Lord struck all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the captive who was in the dungeon, and all the firstborn of cattle.”

  My breath was erratic. My limbs refused to listen. I stumbled back and fell on my ass, my wand rolling out of reach as the dread Angel came before me. It’s wings bristled with enough power to reduce the whole world to ash.

  I became acutely aware that nothing I could ever do would be enough to more than inconvenience this monster. I was utterly helpless. Utterly hopeless.

  The Angel spoke anew, it’s hollow hood twitching in my direction, “Yes, I remember you now. You are the one from Seven Macaw’s grave. Xibalba as others called it.”

  Landing on the ground before me, the Angel’s tattered robes revealed a body that could only be mistaken for Human when hidden under a great deal of fabric. Hard, metallic, but unlike the smooth pride Hector had in his flesh, the Angel was all sharp edges and piercing angles. The ebony sword almost seemed like overkill.

  Where jagged skin ended, hands like vulture’s talons sprung. Every inch of him was a deadly weapon, and the same stood true for the wings that grew out of his back. I thought Angels only had two wings. This thing, if it even was an Angel, had six.

  “A disobedient lamb. Ripe for the slaughter. Still, as far as capstones go I find you wanting.”

  “Capstone?” I whispered.

  I couldn’t see it, but I felt the thing smile beneath it’s cowl. “The nine hundred and ninety nine thousandth life my blade will take. A capstone.”

  My stomach did backflips. Revulsion and fear stained my brow and back with sweat and I had to restrain myself from dry heaving. He’s killed almost a million people with that sword?

  The Angel stepped towards, me it’s clawed hand restlessly scraping at the ebony sword’s pommel. My thoughts ran rampant and directionless. The end drew near.

  Help me. Please help me. I don’t want to die like this. I can’t die like this. I’ll do anything. Please, save me!

  “It would be remiss to spare you again, little lamb,” the Angel said, drawing it’s ebony sword and raising it up high. “Die.”

  The blade fell, but the splish of torn flesh never came. Instead, I heard a defined clink. I opened my eyes to see the medic girl who had poured me a drink. She had grabbed my wand sword and somehow man
aged to stop the Angel’s blade with a conjured sword of her own. Impossible. How could a regular Human make use of my--

  Realization washed over me. My breath caught in my throat.

  “Lisistrathiel.”

  “Cheater cheater, pumpkin eater,” the ‘medic’ said, her Tennessee accent suddenly absent. “Is it fun killing people so much weaker than you? Haven’t you ever heard of this little thing called The Pact?”

  The Angel of Death regarded the she-devil with surprise as Lis, in an almost comical puff of smoke, changed from a fit five foot five army medic into her normal six foot splendor. Inferno red dress. Molten yellow eyes.

  There was no smile present on her lips.

  “A Devil. That would explain the lamb’s disobedience. Praise be! You’ll make the perfect capstone,” the Angel said, delighted.

  In a calculated motion, he hefted his grand sword menacingly towards Lis. “I am He who counts for God; Saphariel. Death is my slave and he does my bidding. Tell me who you are that we may begin.”

  “I’m in a bit of a rush,” Lis said, and faster than my eye could track, she sprung her assault.

  Chapter 48

  My wand-rapier’s tip clanked loudly against the side of the Angel’s blade, poised to have pierced into his billowing cowl had he not blocked it so quickly. Snorting gouts of smoke out of his nostrils, the Angel flung Lis back with a swing of his sword.

  “Such speed,” he scoffed. “Do you think you can outrun your death?”

  “Watch out!” I yelled.

  Quicker than the words left my mouth, the Angel had sheathed his blade, long talons raking at the she-devil like a mad tiger. Two clawed hands against one wand-rapier? Lis struggled to keep up with the assault.

  In a blur of movement the she-devil lunged right past the Angel’s guard and embedded the tip of the blade between two of the spiked plates on the monster’s flank.

  I was sure she wounded him, but the Angel didn’t even flinch. Instead, his clawed hands gripped the rapier as one of his wings stretched wide, glowing feverish yellow. Planting both of her high heels onto the Angel’s flank, Lis pushed off. She tore the wand-rapier out of the Angel’s grip and avoided the blast of holy rays that burst from the glowing wing and turned the dirt behind her into glass.

  Before she could recover, the Angel had already rushed her position. Talon gripping his sheathed sword, he drew his blade with practiced malice, and neatly cut my wand in half before Lis could react to the blow.

  Forced to a knee, Lis looked up helplessly as the Angel pointed the ebony sword at her throat.

  “So weak. Killing you would be a mercy, Hellspawn,” It spoke, disgust tainting it’s metallic voice.

  Lis winked, raising her fingers to plug her ears. “Maybe next time.”

  Sensing something amiss, the Angel turned towards the sinking USS Massachusetts just as the main cannon of the listing warship fired.

  Direct hit. Point blank.

  The force of the cannon’s shot was enough to send shock waves of dust far and wide. I’d be terribly surprised if my ears weren’t bleeding. When at last the dust settled and I dared to take a look around, the Angel of Death was nowhere to be seen.

  Pushing myself onto unsteady legs, I turned to see Lis back on her feet and digging a pinky into her ear. I’d never seen her hair in such disarray.

  “Location, location, location,” she said.

  “You killed it,” I said.

  “The cheater? Not a chance,” she replied. “Thankfully though, he’s still beholden to the laws of physics, so even though he’s not dead he isn’t an immediate threat to us anymore.

  “Lis?”

  “Invulnerable or not, Charlie, if you get hit by a gun that big and at that trajectory, the force of the shell will send you on a one way trip to the Vatican before you can even think of slowing down,” she carried on. “Incidentally that means we should probably slink back into the shadows before--”

  “Lis,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  All my soul within me burned. And not in a good ‘I feel so alive’ way. What I’d thought was a total victory had been turned into a slaughter. What I’d thought had been real power was swept aside without a second thought. And what I’d thought was the invincible she-devil beyond anyone’s reach was…

  “Lis… You’re bleeding.”

  The she-devil froze mid step. A look of surprise passed over her face as she reached up and felt the thin line of red the Angel’s sword had cut into her skin. Just below her left eye.

  She hadn’t even noticed. It was impossible for me not to.

  Lisistrathiel wiped the thin line of blood away with a laugh. “Oops. I was hoping to avoid something like that.”

  “Something like ‘that’? You mean to tell me you almost got k--” The word wouldn’t leave my mouth.

  Lis. Killed? It felt insane, and yet it had been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt just seconds ago. Lisistrathiel, my very own Infernal Adversary, was not only not invincible, she was woefully, pathetically mortal.

  “Charlie, we should go have a one on one chat. Somewhere private,” she said.

  My brows furrowed. I nodded grimly.

  “Yeah. We should.”

  Chapter 49

  “But you got out alive?” I spoke into the phone.

  “Better off than you might think. I’d call it a miracle, but I think that might be in bad taste considering what happened,” replied Alexander. “I’ll be in touch, Charles.”

  The Dagonians had licked their wounds, and were already beating a hasty retreat back to friendly waters. The sinking of the USS Massachusetts was officially being blamed on an engine fire that reached the munitions storage.

  A terrible loss, but at least it didn’t happen during a war time scenario. A lesson learned and quickly fixed by our engineers. No more overheating engines on our other ships. That’s how they’ll spin it to the Mundanes. Somehow I doubt modern engineering was in a position to Angel-proof much of anything.

  “Whiskey on the rocks?”

  It was Lis. We’d barely gotten off the helicopter that flew us back to my rented villa before the she-devil started acting like nothing had happened.

  “I’m not thirsty,” I replied.

  “Wow Charlie. I’d heard of people getting scared sober, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it happen.”

  “Cut the shit,” I demanded.

  My voice was low and angry. Why?

  Lis nodded solemnly. “I know how you feel Charlie. It’s easy to get an impression like yours with the way the world carries on about it, but I have a horrible, terrible truth to tell you.”

  Sweat beaded on my brow. “I’m ready.”

  Lis sat down on the bed beside me, looked me dead in the eye and said, “Santa Claus? Not real.”

  I blinked in confusion, before my anger returned to me. “This is serious!” I managed, before she cut me off.

  “Easter bunny is fake news too. And while we’re at it?” Lis said. “I can bleed. Just like you.”

  “It’s true then. You nearly died,” I said. “Jesus. That monster almost killed you.”

  “Almost is the operative word. It did succeed in killing your poor wand though. You’ll need a replacement for sure.”

  “I don’t get it Lis,” I said, frantically, “I don’t get any of this. It’s like the world’s gone topsy turvy, backwards and inside out.”

  “Charlie, relax,” Lis said.

  “Like hell I’ll relax! Why did you save me? You almost got killed!”

  Lis looked at me before the edges of her lips curved upwards. “Because Charlie. I like you. Your soul is always shines really bri--”

  “Give me a real reason damn you! Stop feeding me this trite shit. What’s your game? Why did Gloucester have to die? What can we possibly do to kill that monster that calls itself an Angel? Why even bother trying?!”

  “Charlie if you calm down I’ll let you touch my tail,” Lis said.

  The chao
tic tempest of thoughts and fears swirling in my brain came to an abrupt end. I stared at her incredulously.

  “No. Oh no you don’t. This is a trick,” I said.

  “No tricks. I promise.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not falling for it. Not even if you swear to Satan or whoever is in charge of--”

  “I’ll do you one better,” Lis said, a dangerous look in her eyes. “I, Lisistrathiel, swear to God that there are no strings attached with touching my tail for the next five minutes.”

  My mouth opened to shoot a retort, but none came. Too much happened all at once. I couldn’t tell whether she was lying or trying to trick me any longer. The impish tail wiggled into view. Slowly, fearfully, I reached out and touched it with a finger. Then I took it in my hand and gripped it tight.

  So soft. You’d think a Devil’s tail would be leathery or raspy to the touch, but it felt more like a really feathery velvet. It was more soothing than I can properly describe. I couldn’t help the comfortable sigh that escaped my lips. Tranquility. I felt at ease. For the first time in a long time.

  “Easy now,” Lis said. “It’s a bit ticklish near the tip. Feeling better?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Now then: I’m quite capable of getting murdered, your wand’s been given a warrior’s death, and that Angel of yours is out there somewhere. Probably miffed too after I robbed him of his precious kill. What should we do?”

  I licked my lips. I softly squeezed Lis’ tail in my hands and turned my eyes up to her. “I think I should accept your apology.”

  Chapter 50

  Lis’ eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. Her molten bronze eyes narrowed. “Apology? Whatever are you talking about, Charles Montgomery Locke?”

  “If you really wanted to seduce me into damnation, it would have been an easy job for you,” I said. “Hot blooded man? Beaten and bruised? Barely escaped certain death by the skin of his teeth and already affected by a Siren’s song? You could have doomed my soul with a flick of your wrist. And yet you got ‘outsmarted’ by me?”