URIEL: The Price (The Airel Saga, Book 6) (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (16 page)

The foremost fear in his mind was that he would get partway out only to be sliced in half by an elevator in sudden freefall. But there were worse ways to die. He knew that much from experience, especially lately.

He pushed off the floor and pulled himself upward and out, like getting out of a pool without a ladder.

He landed in the lobby, and just as he did, the elevator let go, taking one of his shoes with it. The tug of war hurt badly, and as he backed away from the edge it occurred to him that his ankle might now be sprained, if not broken.

He looked around in a panic. Was this the same place? Everything was different now, destroyed. The lights were out. Auxiliary lighting had come on, casting evil shadows. There were red letters on exit signs, emergency beacons were sounding off, and a few fire sprinklers above his head were spewing water. Everything was filthy—adding water to it just made thin mud. He leaned up against the opposite wall and tried to breathe, getting soaked.

Then it occurred to him: What is chasing me?

But he had an idea who or what it was. He didn’t like his idea at all.

CHAPTER XIV

THE TOWER’S UPPERMOST VILLAGE. The tower’s uppermost section was going to go. My eyes calculated the figures—the upper tip was in excess of 2,700 feet high, and where the dragon had collided wasn’t more than 800 feet below that point. That would put the weak spot at the 150th floor, approximately.

That was where the structure was rotting through with phosphoric fire.

I circled around it, hacking my way through the cloud of demons the Devourer had left behind.

Far below, the demon’s carcass finally impacted the ground. It had to have weighed in excess of 700 tons, about the takeoff weight of two lightly loaded Boeing 747s. This weight shook the earth, and as more acidic fire splashed down and out from the force of the impact, I couldn’t help but smile.

The bigger they are . . .

* * *

THE WHOLE BUILDING SHOOK, prompting Qiel to walk over to the windows. He knew what had happened already, but the vestiges of his humanity still wanted to chase ambulances. Glass and other debris rained down from high above. The lights flickered. Then there was the fire and flesh of the Devourer. Many would perish in the aftermath.

This is the fault of the halfbreed.

He would enjoy watching her writhe as the price was exacted from her. Even now Michael was running to “freedom”—perhaps that little piece of bait would turn the girl’s head enough to give him the upper hand.

As for the forces he had sent to invade Eden, he could only assume their expedition had ended in failure. He would have to make do without the power of the Tree.

Sensing the hordes increasing weaknesses, Qiel drew the sea toward him and his legions. The sea would wipe the earth clean. The flood would burst forth and sweep away everything that was bigoted against him and his kind. El’s angels would fall and decay in the quagmire.

Long tentacles lifted from the deep and lashed out, twisting and grasping, pulling down towers and bridges as the sea invaded the city and doused the fire of the Devourer. Qiel called upon his most powerful weapons now. The Seer would not lose the war to a little girl.

“Let’s see what you think of this.” He closed his eyes and imagined more, more.

* * *

THE SKY WAS BLACK now, and not totally because the sun had fled over the horizon. Floods of more Brotherhood poured from nowhere, appearing out of the air.

This is one of the thin places, like the Threshold in the house of Kreios.

Dragons from legends, serpents bearing wings, fanged monsters, insects as big as buses converged on the tower. There were beasts in the sky, beasts in the sea. The hope I’d had at the start—after I took out their two best and biggest—now faded. I couldn’t even begin to count their numbers—my mind went numb at the sheer size of their army.

Circling around the tower, I looked out to the desert and saw only water. It moved as if alive and the tower stood amidst the sea like an upraised finger.

Something hit me broadside and I flew backward, tumbling out of control. I skipped across the water a few times like a flat stone. My head spinning, I rocketed into the air, gasping, trying to get my vision to clear.

A tentacle like a war monument took a swipe at me. I dodged just in time. The huge arm was made entirely of water, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t deadly. Okay, how do I kill a monster made only of water? Before I could figure that out, a swarm of demons converged upon me. I cut through them, feeling my exhaustion close in.

I’d been avoiding the obvious conclusion, and I was smarter than that. There was only one explanation for that with which I was now faced, but I avoided it because of what it would mean. Qiel must be the Seer now.

That meant Qiel had returned. From the dead? I didn’t know. But the only angel I knew of who had this level of control over the sea was the son of Uriel. And if he was the Seer, that meant he was against us, despite his lineage. But more importantly, if Qiel was Seer, that meant Michael wasn’t—he had failed. And if he had failed, that meant his life was in serious jeopardy. Come on, Kreios. This would be a great time to show up.

Qiel controlled the sea—he had to have been behind the tsunami. Confirming my conclusions, even more tentacles rose up and wreaked havoc on the city of Dubai.

All I had to do was get to the Seer and kill him. That would end this war once and for all. Should be easy. Like slapping a mosquito. The size of Texas.

I gripped the sword tighter and was about to make a beeline for the top of the broken tower when I got snagged and wrapped up by a smaller tentacle. The Sword of Light vanished as I struggled. The monstrous arm grew in size and strength, feeding on the sea, dragging me from the sky and pulling me down into the waves, under the water.

I could hear laughing and curses. I held my breath, hoping for an opportunity to escape. My arms were pinned to my sides—the massive tentacle was crushing my ribcage. I had one last chance. I relaxed and let it all go, releasing my will in submission to El. The explosion of light that ripped from my heart ripped the tentacle to shreds. Thanks for that.

I launched toward the surface. When I broke free, coughing and gagging, I had to dodge more tentacles before I could fill my lungs with air. But I was snatched back by this forest of towering seas and dragged down again.

I sounded my battle cry under the waters.

Just then, the dark sky broke through with blazing light. Kreios appeared at the head of a terrible army of death, bathed in brilliant light. He scanned the battlefield, looking for something, someone.

Me.

CHAPTER XV

AS KREIOS APPROACHED THE tower, he took off the head of the first demon he encountered with a single casual stroke. It gagged and fell, turning to a plume of ash before it hit the water.

He addressed the Armies of the Damned. “Murderers and host of the damned, clear a way to that tower.” Kreios pointed with his sword to the Burj, the only building left standing. “I will find Airel. You will destroy every last beast of hell that moves. Leave none alive. You shall grant no mercy.” If we’re doing this, we’re doing it all the way.

Kreios turned to Cain, who was at his side with his six. Only seven remained of the Eden Detachment. The Tree of Life was made safe; the Brotherhood invasion horde was wiped out. “You have fulfilled your promise so I fulfill mine.” He swung his sword and killed Cain. Turning to the dead, he commanded, “Come, murderers and killers. Let us go see about provoking the end of the Brotherhood.”

Then he heard the battle cry of his granddaughter. She had been dragged beneath the waves—she needed help. He shot toward her, leaving a trail of light and ash behind him. He could hear his armies behind him cutting through demon flesh, which made him smile. It was a good sound, a holy sound.

Death became him. Going before and behind the angel Kreios was a vanguard of withering eradication. His presence now tunneled through, cast aside, and utterly ruined everything it touched.

Including the sea.

The towers of grasping water gave way around him and the pale light that surrounded his person. The sea gave up the girl, and he took her up into his arms and flew high above the battle, out of the reach of the writhing watery shapes.

He let her go. She was soaked to the bone. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Airel ran a hand through her wet hair and nodded, breathing deep. “You came. I needed you, and you came.”

Kreios took her in his arms and hugged her tight. “I love you, Airel. Of course I came.”

They drew apart, and she looked at herself. “At least I’m not covered in demon innards anymore.”

“Airel,” Kreios pointed downward, “do you know why the sea has grown arms?” Kreios had never seen such a thing under the sun.

“I think it’s Qiel. I think he’s the Seer.”

“Who is Qiel?”

“We don’t have time, and I’m pretty sure Michael’s is running out too. Do you know where he is? Can you sense him?”

“Do not lose hope, Airel—all is not lost. Michael is there.” He pointed to the tower far below them. “If we finish well, we can make him safe.”

In dramatic fashion, the Sword of Light returned to her hand. The sight of his granddaughter wielding the weapon he himself had used in the dispatch of so many demon Brothers sent a chill of pride through him every time.

Airel cricked her neck and stretched.

Kreios could feel the drain cease with the advent of the Sword. Airel touched his hand. “Ready?”

Kreios narrowed his eyes. “Ready.”

* * *

QIEL REMAINED, ROBED IN white silk, at the wall of windows, surveying his domain. Right at eye level there were two angels, pure and light, and dare he even think the word holy, terrible to behold, wrestling in midair with a crimson-skinned devil. As the three figures grappled, the demon flapped like a struggling bat, coming closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows where Qiel stood. One of the angels gave the whole tangle a hard shove and they all three crashed into the thick glass, shaking the wall.

Qiel saw up close the look of determination on the face of one of the angels. There was sweat and struggle there, just on the other side of the glass. He could hear the muted sounds of the contest, heard the monosyllabic ejaculations that were standard issue in combat. He also heard words spoken in a language he didn’t know, but nevertheless he recognized.

That disturbed him.

It was the language the angels were speaking.

One of them drew a dagger, which shone brightly even in this darkness. Still pinning the crimson-skinned bat against the glass, the dagger-wielding angel gave a shout and then plunged it into the demon’s torso. The struggle slowly diminished, and in the background, other details became clear to Qiel. Angels streaking on trails of pure white light and what looked to be the damned—two or three to a demon—chasing them down and abusing, even bullying them into submission. They came from above and below; they were everywhere.

But finally his eyes were drawn to the scene directly in front of him. The crimson bat’s wings fell limp. The angel withdrew his dagger, and then the two members of the angelic army released their victim. The bat’s sweat and blood streaked the glass as gravity took it down.

He stepped closer to the glass and peered downward to see the demon fall. Its wings fluttered rippling against the uprush. It didn’t reach the ground. It crashed onto the roof of one of the lower sections, still a hundred stories up. A scavenger demon came instantly to feed upon its corpse.

Farther down, the cost of the battle was laid out before him in furious display, a shameless kind of candor. The sea ran red.

He raised his gaze and saw them—Airel and Kreios, together, tearing through his horde as if the Brothers were but powerless children. Airel was unmistakable, wielding the Sword of Light and bathed in hateful blue. Kreios was death itself, mounted upon the spectre of a great pale horse that sped across the skies, taking souls to Abaddon unimpeded.

Qiel clenched his fists, bringing forth the sea and all his creatures, attacking on every front. But it was in vain—the dead were unaffected, even untouched by the peak of his powers. The enemy’s armies were not of this world. How to go about killing something that’s already dead? Despite all the Bloodstone had given him, despite all it knew and all the wonders it held, there was no incantation, no magic for this. Kreios and Airel glided through his wielded waters as if he was nothing.

Cursing, the Seer turned away from the scene. His demon Brothers were falling much too fast; the men didn’t even enter into the equation. The drain, so reliable, so potent in the past, was now also not a factor. The Sword Airel held protected them.

She is the key.

If he didn’t kill her, this long-awaited war would be lost in a matter of moments.

It is time for a change in strategy.

CHAPTER XVI

MICHAEL WAS IN GREAT pain. It wasn’t just his ankle. He wore his grief like a cloak of many sorrows now, and it was very heavy. He had failed to procure the Bloodstone, failed to destroy it. He had failed to protect anyone—Uriel was dead. John was worse. Michael knew Airel was out there somewhere, that she would risk everything to try to get to him and bust him out of captivity, so that made him a liability. What kind of hero needs to be rescued by the princess? He had failed at everything; he couldn’t even ride an elevator properly. Now simply escaping with his life seemed impossible.

Through the darkness, through mists thrown down by the handful of fire sprinklers that were subduing the dust and cinders in the air, he could see a black lump on the ground. A dead man? He looked to be dead; one leg splayed awkwardly to the side. Where is his demon Brother?

The building shook again. It was like being in the bowels of a ship on a weather-beaten sea, tossed like a toy, and there were no windows here in the elevator lobby of the 150th floor. There was no point of reference—only this sickening motion.

More groaning from overhead. Ripping, tearing. Crumbling. Something was coming down the elevator shaft, coming for him fast. He needed to get out now. But his ankle handicapped him. He hobbled away from the elevators as fast as he could.