Archangel's War

70

Titus was glorious to watch. The Archangel of Southern Africa had planted his booted feet on the ground on this side of the front, his wings spread wide and his golden breastplate gleaming even in the dull morning light that got through the snow-heavy clouds. The equally gold “tattoo” that had formed on his skin was visible only in glimpses on his thickly muscled shoulders and equally impressive biceps.

His roughly hewn and square-jawed face was set in a glower that dared the other side to shoot anything at him.

The man was beautiful—and also a little arrogant, Elena thought with a grin. She was on a nearby rooftop, her crossbow pointed at one of those on the other side who might try to take out Titus’s wings. She fired just as she saw a hand go to press the trigger. More crossbows and guns fired all around her.

A roar of sound, Titus’s growl rising to the skies as he lifted up both his uninjured arm and his splinted one. And rained down hell.

The road lifted up under the feet of the enemy, cracking and rippling as if it was a river. Buildings shook hard. Glass that had survived the earlier detonations shattered. The quake seemed to go on forever, sending angels into the sky—butterflies disturbed from a tree. Dust blurred the landscape, floating up to further dull the turgid gray skies.

Ice, hard and biting, sleeted from the clouds at that very instant, pounding at the angels who’d taken off. Neha couldn’t totally control the area hit, so their side also got a dose of frigid cold, but they were prepared for it. Clothing, gloves, cap, Elena was dressed for the heart of winter.

Howling mini-tornados whacked into the angels on the other side on the heels of the ice, taking them down like dominos. Zanaya was not playing.

Neither was Alexander: every bit of metal on the ground on the enemy side began to liquefy even as the angels fell. Alexander couldn’t affect things that weren’t touching the ground—so the weapons held by fighters would survive, as would any that were stored in buildings or crates that protected them from direct contact with the earth.

But Alexander wasn’t targeting the weapons anyway.

At first, all Elena saw was a fire hydrant that melted, spraying water everywhere . . . but then the buildings that were still standing began to shake, as the metal rods within started to quiver and fail.

Ground fighters looked up at those precariously swaying buildings, their eyes huge.

Waves rose from the water on the other side, smashing into the shore and washing away vampires and reborn and fallen angels before the waves sucked back out with unbeatable force, taking anyone on the ground out to sea. Astaad and Aegaeon had to be careful how far they pushed things, because too much water and it’d wash away their own side, but the two seemed to have calculated it just right.

They’d had Caliane standing by to create a shield to protect their own, but it wasn’t needed. Michaela had been told to stay back, keep her power in reserve for a direct strike against Lijuan, while Elijah hung to the far back, his job to protect their flank until Lijuan was sighted—in case the Archangel of China decided to pull another noncorporeal ambush.

Raphael waited for Lijuan.

As with all archangelic powers, the Cadre couldn’t keep this up endlessly, but when the ground stopped shaking and the rain and ice stopped, and the tornados halted, the seas retreating, Lijuan’s forces were in disarray. Buildings had collapsed into melted shapes straight out of a Salvador Dali painting. Roads no longer existed.

A massive chunk of the ground troops had disappeared into the ocean, as had large numbers of angels who’d been battered to the ground. Yet their sheer numbers meant a vast army remained.

They fought back with devoted fury.

Lijuan’s surviving generals shot waves of obsidian fire, each one aiming themself at an archangel. After having injured Elijah, they knew they could disable the Cadre; take out enough archangels and New York lost any advantage it had in launching the attack now, before Lijuan was ready.

Raphael had planned to seed the sky with wildfire to try to unmask her, but live battle had a way of interfering with strategic plans; too many of their own fighters fought at too many different elevations in the sky. Elena sent up a prayer to any actual gods that Lijuan hadn’t fed enough to go noncorporeal.

Her prayers went unheard.

Elena had just shot out the wings of an enemy angel who was trying to hack at Aodhan’s wings when Lijuan appeared without warning behind Zanaya. It also put the Archangel of China at the farthest point from Raphael. Archangel!

Even as he reacted to make it to that location, Lijuan grabbed Zanaya by the upper arms and bit down on her neck. Zanaya twisted with a snarl, attempting to reach for her sword and kicking back with her feet as mini-tornados appeared around Lijuan . . . but then her body seemed to slow down, her reactions stiffen.

The tornados faded.

Lijuan was sucking the life out of an Ancient and doing it at vicious speed.

Elena willed her body to go there, help Zanaya, but the speed still didn’t work with archangels.

Though Raphael arrived at the location of the attack in a matter of seconds, his wings pure white fire, Lijuan turned noncorporeal again before he could hit her with wildfire . . . and Zanaya fell from the sky, her wings crumpled and her body far smaller than it should’ve been. Alexander caught her partway, cradling her close as he flew her toward the Tower.

Elena’s heart pounded. Archangel, how do we find her? She could be at any elevation, at any location. Always before, she’d had a single target. Now she had many. Raphael couldn’t spread his wildfire that wide without wasting the one weapon that might halt the Queen of Death.

Wildfire ringed his hands. I must remain within equal distance of as many of the Cadre as I can.

Lijuan appeared beside Alexander.

Raphael threw wildfire in her direction without a single hesitation. It hit, crackling energy through her system, but she went noncorporeal a heartbeat later. And Raphael realized that feeding on Zanaya had done what they feared; it had supercharged her.

Thank you for bringing me so much POWER! Laughter in Lijuan’s mental voice, a kind of girlish delight that was disturbing in its facsimile of innocence.

She appeared behind Neha this time, but Galen—nearby—bought the Archangel of India a moment to react by slicing his broadsword down toward Lijuan’s neck. She flicked him away and the heavily built weapons-master smashed into a building, but that minor delay gave Neha a critical second to turn. She struck out with the curved edge of one kukri blade, managed a deep slice across Lijuan’s cheek.

A flap of skin and flesh slapped against her jaw, a wet red hole where her cheek should be. Blood splurted out . . . then vanished. The wound had closed by the time Raphael threw wildfire in her direction. She laughed and was gone before the wildfire hit her, and the bolt exploded into a knot of fighters, taking out several from both sides.

Raphael’s rage was a cold thing with a heart of fire. This was always her endgame.

Perhaps she’d intended to “absorb” the Cadre one by one, but they’d served themselves to her on a platter. She didn’t have to consider anything else beyond her urge to feed. She certainly didn’t care that her troops were dying under waves of archangelic power. She would have more people once she owned the world. Mortals, vampires, angels, all were disposable to her. Galen? Are you down?

Few broken bones but not enough to take me out of the battle. Go toward Astaad. He’s the most vulnerable right now.

Astaad was fighting alone against three of Lijuan’s generals. It looked like he’d taken a hit of obsidian rain on his right forearm. The arm dragged, numbed and possibly eaten away with infection, but he continued to do battle, taking out one general as Raphael flew toward him. This time when Lijuan reappeared, Raphael was close enough to hit her, but though her face contorted at the wildfire strike, the skeletal understructure glowing into focus, she was still able to go noncorporeal.

She didn’t appear again for five long minutes, giving neither him nor Galen any way to predict her actions. When she did, it was behind Astaad once more. He had Michaela by him, but though she reacted rapidly, her bronze lightning smashing into Lijuan’s shoulder, Lijuan dragged Astaad close . . . and both disappeared.

Raphael, fuck.

Yes, Guild Hunter. We are in trouble.

Both archangels reappeared in the sky moments later, not far from where she’d first taken Astaad.

The Archangel of the Pacific Isles was fighting, but she had her face buried in his neck and already, Astaad looked emaciated, his wings limp. You are all NOTHING but fodder for a goddess. Watch me feed. Know me as your superior!

Raphael released a ball of wildfire. My apologies, my friend, he said to Astaad, who was in the direct line of fire.

The other archangel’s face eased, as if in gratitude.

The wildfire hit them both. Screaming, Lijuan released Astaad. She went noncorporeal again as Astaad’s body fell, riven with wildfire. No one was close enough to catch him. The Archangel of the Pacific Isles crashed to lie broken on a rooftop. Jason landed beside him a second later. He’s alive, Raphael’s spymaster reported. His body has lost nearly all its flesh, but his eyes are lucid.

Rather than killing him, the wildfire appeared to have ameliorated a little of the damage Lijuan had done. Get him to safety. As helpless as Astaad was now, Lijuan might come back to finish him off. Eli, protect Astaad and Jason.

The Archangel of South America took up an escort position—and the former general did something clever. He began to fire his power erratically around them, where it would either hit enemy troops or go into clear air. It made it nearly impossible for Lijuan to appear nearby—she’d have to risk being hit by one of Elijah’s bolts. It wouldn’t badly hurt her, not the way she was now, but the delay while she dealt with the shock would give Raphael time to drown her in wildfire.

Shooters and soldiers armed with flamethrowers had already begun laying down fire around the Tower. Again, Lijuan could survive that, but it might leave her vulnerable for a moment. The Tower guard paused only long enough for Jason to get through with Astaad, and Elijah to clear the area, before starting up again. Elijah continued to fire around him as he returned to battle, but no archangel could keep that up nonstop, especially when fighting against Lijuan’s army.

Obsidian fire was now erupting not only from the hands of the generals, but others. Lijuan had to be bloated indeed to be fueling so many subordinates.

Titus was Lijuan’s next target—but he reacted with warrior speed to smash his splinted arm into her face. Blood splurted and she was gone. Only to suddenly be behind Aegaeon. Raphael shouted out a warning. Illium’s father ignored the obsidian rain coming at him from her forces and sliced both blades backward into her stomach, wrenching up.

Lijuan turned noncorporeal as her gown became drenched in red, even as Aegaeon took a massive number of blows from the generals. He began to fall, his wings shredded. Aodhan slammed into him, slowing his descent enough to bring him to a softer landing on a rooftop. It had been a risk on Aodhan’s part that he’d become infected but it looked like the subordinates’ fire wasn’t infectious. Only Lijuan’s.

He left Aegaeon on the rooftop, where the Ancient managed to get himself to a position near the archers. Though the generals had done significant damage, he continued to fight, while his body dealt with the obsidian. Courage had never been Aegaeon’s problem. Not far in the distance, Neha destroyed three of Lijuan’s generals in a single precision strike with the vivid green of her poison whip.

Raphael! Look out!

He blocked the shards of starlight obsidian dropping at him from the sky, only for Lijuan to repeat the attack again and again. He couldn’t allow even one of the shards to burrow into him, not now she’d fed on two archangels, had to waste precious power maintaining the shield.

She was trying to wear him out. And hugely bloated with power, she was going to succeed. Then Michaela shifted position without warning—and ended up face-to-face with Lijuan. The Archangel of China had obviously meant to appear behind Michaela. No hesitation, no thought, Michaela blasted Lijuan with her power point-blank.

Raphael targeted the Archangel of China with a massive jolt of wildfire at the same time.

It punched through her entire system, turning her skin into a pattern of broken light but she was nowhere near down. She directed a hail of starlight obsidian shards directly at Michaela before going noncorporeal again. Michaela dropped and Lijuan’s poison smashed into a skyscraper that was already half destroyed.

“Why won’t the fucking bitch die?” Michaela’s scream of frustration rent the air.

But they had no time for discussion, for frustration, because Lijuan had reappeared behind Alexander. She had her mouth on his neck before anyone could react, but she’d made a miscalculation. Illium was right beside Alexander and sliced off one of Lijuan’s arms before she had any warning of what was to come.

As the severed limb fell to the ground, she disengaged from Alexander with a sound that was ten thousand screams in their minds. And went noncorporeal again.

Alexander?

I’m a little weaker, but she didn’t get much, barely a sip.

Sweaty and bloody, they fought on. Raphael wasn’t the least surprised when Lijuan reappeared with a whole arm only five minutes later. This time, she didn’t attempt to feed—she aimed a bolt directly at Illium, her face wreathed in malevolence.

Illium twisted with speed, but even Bluebell’s agility wasn’t enough to fully avoid the blow. It went through the tip of one wing and began to spread blackness over his wing in a rapid surge. Illium wasn’t an archangel. His body had no defenses. Raphael was too far from him and Lijuan was now raining her power down at his troops in a merciless hail that would murder and destroy if he didn’t stop her.

He put up a wildfire shield.

Despite taking a catastrophic hit, Illium did the impossible. He went straight at Lijuan and slammed his favorite sword, Lightning, through her heart. She and the sword disappeared even as his wing blackened—but there was a flicker in her disappearance this time. He’d got the heart itself, damage bad enough that most archangels would’ve gone into anshara while it healed.

Go to Elena! Raphael told the angel, aware he couldn’t lower his shield and go to Illium when Lijuan was apt to return at any moment. He didn’t know if Elena could release wildfire on her own into anyone but Raphael, but it was Illium’s only chance. Elena, Illium’s been hit.

Lijuan returned in a viciousness of starlight obsidian.