Angel's Shield (9 page)

She frowned and glanced at Jeremiel, confused by the rapid change
of subject. He’d gone still, head cocked.

“Hear what?” he asked.

“Crackling.” Haniel strode out the door and down the hall.

“What is he talking about?” she asked Jeremiel.

He stood up and walked to the door. “Wait.” He held up his hand.

A trickle of worry slid through her. When Haniel burst back into
the room, naked blades in his hands, her worry turned to fear. She turned
around, staring at her window. Dusk had fallen while they’d made love, but the
shadows didn’t disturb her. Rather, the prickle at the back of her neck that
told her she was being watched, again, was what made her step away and put her
back to the wall.

Chapter Seven

“Demons,” Haniel hissed, ignoring the pain in his legacy marks. “Dear
God, help us,” he muttered. A spasm of pain shot through him and he cursed
under his breath. Now was not a good time for him to be fighting his body’s
urge to shift. He couldn’t afford weakness. Not with Charmeine here, needing
his protection. He lifted his blade toward the window, setting his stance into
a guard position. Jeremiel came up beside him and he silently handed his friend
his weapon.

“What kind?” Jeremiel asked tersely. “Can you tell?”

Haniel had always been better at sensing evil than Jeremiel, much
to both of their frustration. That had been what led them to the demon at
Castle Archangel two years ago, the one that burned his arm. He’d learned his
lesson, though. He no longer rushed in, with no backup and no plan. “I’m not
sure. Something powerful. Not a boar demon. We should be careful.” He cursed
again. “We’re boxed in here.”

“That’s not good,” Jeremiel said, striding forward. He pushed back
Charmeine’s frilly curtains and peered outside. All was silent and dark. Even
the normal hum of crickets was absent.

Definitely not good
, Haniel thought.

“I don’t see anything,” Charmeine said, creeping forward.

“Stay back,” Haniel said, moving closer. He checked the other
window, the one nearer the bed. Suddenly, a pillar of eye-searing light flared
up outside, shattering the pane and spattering him with molten glass. He growled,
blade up and ready, but he knew he couldn’t do a damn thing until the demon
showed itself. And Charmeine’s curtains were already on fire.

“We need to get out of here,” Jeremiel said, backing away from the
window.

“Too late,” Haniel said grimly. A slim form stepped through the
flames.

“Definitely too late,” the creature said, smiling as if he were
out for a stroll on the beach.

That’s a Demon Lord,
Haniel thought, shocked. He didn’t waste breath replying. He just
lunged forward, blade low and deadly. He managed to slice the demon’s arm, but
the creature shook off his blade with a mild look of distaste. Haniel tightened
his grip. Striking the demon had felt like trying to slice through a metal girder.
His fingers were numb.

“Why would you think that could harm me?” the demon asked
contemptuously. His irises flared red, as if he were made of fire, inside and
out.

“What are you?” Charmeine asked faintly, sounding terrified.

Damn it. We have to
get her out of this.
Haniel frowned, moving in front of her. “Begone.” He lifted his blade again,
trying to keep the demon’s attention on him. “In the name of God, I banish you—”

Jeremiel lunged, but the demon was too fast. He swung out an arm
that suddenly had talons at least a foot long sprouting from the surface, like
spines on a poisonous fish. Jeremiel ducked, barely escaping injury. Haniel
slashed again, but the heat from the fire was spreading. They had to get out of
here.

“Stupid angels,” the demon said, lifting his arms. The back of the
room erupted into flames.

Haniel looked at his best friend. There was only one way out of
here: jump. Except Haniel couldn’t fly. Jeremiel could carry Charmeine, but he
would have to take his chances.
I accept
that. Anything to protect Charmeine and Jeremiel.
He nodded slightly and
Jeremiel scooped her up, then leaped through the burning wall, wings flaring
wide as he hit the air outside. Embers scattered around him as the demon
screamed.

“You won’t get away that easily!”

Haniel took off after them, wishing he still had his wings. This
was going to hurt, a lot. On the way out, he twisted and slashed, fighting off
the demon’s rage. To his astonishment, one thrust caught the creature on the
edge of his neck. His weapon ground against the scales that had replaced the
creature’s flesh, then slipped underneath. Blood welled up like a fountain,
black as tar, and then twisted the blade as he fell, the demon’s shocked face
seared into his mind.

Just when he thought he would hit the ground way too hard for
survival, slim arms caught his wrists and pulled him into the air.

****

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Charmeine chanted, dragging Haniel up
just enough to break his fall. They landed hard, rolling over the uneven ground
of her back yard. Her wings were soft and weak and tumbling over them didn’t
exactly feel great. By the time she came to a stop, she hurt. When she looked
up and back, her entire house crackled with flames, like something out of a
movie.

“What just happened?” Haniel panted, crushing her legs.

“She saved your damn life,” Jeremiel said, landing on his knees
beside them. “Oh Jesus, let me see, Charmeine. Careful.”

His hair is a mess,
was all she could think as he gently extracted her arms from her
feathers. “I flew,” she said. She swallowed dirt, then coughed.

“We need to get out of here,” Jeremiel said, smoothing his hands
down her wings in a way that fixed everything wrong. “Let me just get you
straightened out here.”

“I didn’t know I could fly,” she croaked.

Haniel grabbed her hands. “I am so glad you could.” He kissed her
fingers.

She squeezed him tight enough to make him grimace. “I’m so sorry.”

Haniel laughed, then kissed her. “Are you kidding me? You’re
sorry? For what? Saving my life?”

“I don’t know how I did that.” She leaned into Jeremiel hands,
still trying to catch her breath. “I just grabbed you, by instinct. I don’t
even know how I got away from Jeremiel.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what
I’m doing.”

“We’re getting the hell away from here before that monster comes
out and kills us, that’s what we’re doing. We don’t have the firepower to stand
against a demon lord,” Jeremiel muttered, settling the last feather into place.
“There.”

“He’s not coming after us.” Haniel stood up and stared back at her
house. The flames cast shadows over his face.

“What do you mean?” Jeremiel asked. He stood up, too, hauling
Charmeine with him.

She clutched his arm, unbalanced. Her wings were so big she couldn’t
stand properly. An acrid breeze wafted towards them from the house and she
coughed as smoke stung her throat.

“I cut off his head on the way out,” Haniel said mildly.

Jeremiel stared at the other angel, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

Haniel nodded.

Charmeine watched Jeremiel. His face went from surprised to
worried.

“Good, but that just means we have his pack to deal with now. Otherwise,
the house would’ve stopped burning. We still need to get out of here. They’ll
be even worse without a master.” He began to pull her back towards the trail
shelter. The trees loomed dark and silent above them, in direct contrast to the
licking flames consuming the house.

“Shit. You’re right.” Haniel backed up, blade still in his hands.
It was caked with dirt, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Boar demons,” he said to
Charmeine, unnervingly.

“What are boar demons?” Charmeine tried not to look too closely at
the fire. She couldn’t deal with the loss of her home right now. And it seemed
they had bigger worries, anyway. She stumbled when her foot caught on a rock.
Jeremiel kept her from going down.

“They’re like attack dogs, only bigger,” he said, still pulling
her backward. Somehow, he’d managed to hang onto his blade and he held it up
defensively.

“And they can spit acid,” Haniel added.

Unnecessary details,
she thought. She really, truly didn’t need to know that. “And
they’ll be after us? Won’t they just run away if their master is dead?” What
she knew about demons could fit on the head of a pin.

Jeremiel pried her hands loose from his arm and set them on a
tree. “Here. Hold onto that. Try and move your wings, gently. You need to get a
feel for them.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed, not listening to him. Dark shapes came
out of the fire and stalked toward them. They looked like small tanks—big and
sturdy, except they moved more like wolves.
How could something so ugly be
so graceful?
she wondered even as she fought to control her fear. Her heart
beat so hard she worried she was about to stroke out. She clenched her hands
around the tree, tearing off chunks of bark as she shuddered.

“God damn it, there are at least ten of them,” Haniel said
harshly.

“What do we do?” Charmeine asked, fingers moving over the tree.
She grabbed hold of a branch. The muscles in her wings tensed and she floated
just off the ground without even trying. She’d managed to rip off the tree limb
and held it in front of her, for all the good it would do.
Wood burned.

Jeremiel glanced at her. “If they overwhelm us, fly away. Save
yourself.”

She glared at him. “No.” She wasn’t going to abandon them. Not
now. Not ever. She eyed the boar demons with the same combination of fear and
determination that she’d used to deal with her grandmother’s illness and death.

“Charmeine, please,” he begged.

She shook her head. He gave her a searing look, but he had no more
time to persuade her. The demons were too close. She clenched her fists around
her makeshift weapon, staring intently. If she was going to die, she wanted to
know what killed her. The demons’ smoky breath steamed in the air as if they’d
been chewing on lava and their eyes, God. They looked like embers and ash. She
could barely focus on their scales and talons because some instinct inside her
told her that they had far more dangerous weapons than mere armor. That same
instinct unfurled her wings and she floated up more—not to get away, but to
gain higher ground in order to fight more effectively.

Haniel struck first, slashing with his blade so fast the edge
blurred. Jeremiel was right behind him, severing horns and talons, but right
away Charmeine knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

Oh dear God, please help us. I want to live,
she prayed desperately.
Especially
now that I’ve just found them.
She flew closer, stick out in front of her,
but there was no way for her to help without getting in the way. Her wings
drooped, mirroring her frustration. Haniel and Jeremiel worked like a
well-oiled machine‚ one slashing while the other distracted the creatures.
Unfortunately, even the most efficient of machines sometime fail, and Charmeine
saw the exact moment Jeremiel’s foot turned. He slipped on the slick grass and
Haniel grabbed for him, but it was too late. A boar demon leaped through the
air at them, muscles bulging obscenely.

Charmeine cried out, dropping her stick as she opened her arms,
fear and grief and horror flowing through her in a wave that felt almost tangible.
Her hands cramped and a shimmering barrier flowed through her and out, just in
time to cover Jeremiel and Haniel. The shimmer spread through their bodies and
wavered in the air like an aurora. The boar demon crashed into it and screamed
as his flesh sizzled.

Haniel’s eyes went wide as the boar burst into flames. For a split
second he stared, then his leg shot out and he kicked at the creature
frantically. The shimmer-shield flickered and almost died, but Charmeine
finally realized that she controlled it and poured more energy into it. She
clenched her fists and
pushed
with something inside her, praying
desperately that the shield would hold. When Jeremiel glanced at her, the
colors of the shield danced in his eyes and down his wings. He grinned fiercely,
then stood up and slashed with his blade. The weapon moved with the shield
instead of through it. His energy reinforced the shield, giving it more
strength. He hit another demon and incinerated it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, God,
Charmeine chanted under her
breath, tears pouring down her face.

When Haniel saw Jeremiel’s success, he joined his lover, slashing
with abandon and adding his energy to the shield as well. Charmeine didn’t
understand how or why they could do this, but she sensed that it was something
inherent to their angelic nature. The three of them held this power together.
She
knew
that with all her being. She held on and held on, growing more
and more tired, but she refused to fall until the last demon was dead. When
Jeremiel finally let his blade slide from his hands, Charmeine knew it was all
over. She let the shield go and fell to the ground.