Rapture Falls (39 page)

             
S
amyaza
could hear the intruder, as stealthily as they moved about their deadly business he could feel the steady heartbeat, it was this lack of emotion and icy calm that had lead him to lean toward caution. Samyaza considered himself a warrior of the highest regard, his was a sword that had always held true and sound throughout the most egregious of heavens battles, he had stood beside Michael and Lucifer in distant pasts wielding his weapon on the battlefield regardless of the odds. He had always been considered decisive of thought and action during the original uprisings after their father had first brought forward his talking monkeys, the rebellion had been crushed as the fields ran red with the blood of their brothers.
In truth he had never much cared for the whims of his commanders, the philosophies were for higher orders, he was a warrior born and needed only a direction and an enemy to attack. When Lucifer and Michael had first muted their defection he cared little for reasons and justifications, the cube troubled him as little as his perceived betrayal, he was swayed with thoughts of the ultimate battle that lay ahead with insurmountable odds. The glory of defying their father and his entire forces were what had driven his motivations, when the dust settled his name would be legend and his acts likewise. His frustration had only grown as they were expelled from heaven without a
fight;
they had slunk away like dogs in the night, banished by their father like scalded children to live amongst the humans. His
thirst
for war had been sated for too brief a time as mankind began to develop and fight their conflicts from safe distances with computer screens. He longed for a return to steel in his hand and blood sprayed upon his face,
the clash of bone on bone, the sound of tearing flesh and giants reduced to screams, if the cube truly existed and it was able to create a perfect world then his would be a never ending battlefield filled with warriors and death and glory.

His thoughts were disturbed by the matter at hand, by the smell he could tell that the intruder was male and disappointingly human, the humans were fragile and easy to break, there was no glory in breaking these brittle creatures across his knee. A shadow passed behind him, he spun uncharacteristically startled, the scent was unmistakably human but the man moved too fast, he paused, the smell that emanated wasn’t entirely manmade, there was something else in there, something angelic almost. Suddenly he was
airborne;
he flew across the room and smashed heavily into a sturdy oak bookcase that shattered upon his unwelcome impact. He rolled through the collision and was in his feet in an instant, his legs tensed, his balanced position ready for the fight. The man came out of the shadows, he was tall and well muscled, his suit was expensive but filthy and torn as
though suffering through negle
ct,
he paused when his appraisal reached the man’s eyes which were blank but hinting at a direction, Samyaza noticed all of this in a flash. The man did not say a word nor did he look like he was about to, this suited him fine as words were always meaningless in the heart of the battle. They circled each other like two predators preparing for the engagement, without a signal the suited man threw an educated right hook that was as fast as it was deadly. Samyaza evaded it with some effort, the human was fast becoming an opponent to take seriously, the man’s balance did not falter despite the missed blow and he moved back out of immediate range quickly. Samyaza threw a front kick distraction whilst moving into the gap between them as fast as his could move, the man to his credit saw it coming but could not avoid it, Samyaza
shot an upward front elbow as soon as he was in range. The bone crunched into the man’s nose shattering it instantly and completely ruining his vision, as he staggered backwards Samyaza followed throwing expert rights and lefts as he went. The suited man did not make a sound even as the steel fists landed forcing him backwards and driving him down to his knees. Samyaza stood over his bloodied adversary, the fight had been all too brief after such a promising beginning, the suited man was bleeding profusely from a ruined face, his mouth moved with great difficulty, a fine bloody mist sprayed as he struggled to speak. Samyaza knelt and leaned in closer to listen, whatever this man had to say before he met his end should be worth hearing, he was a valiant
challenger and deserved a modicum of respect. Perhaps it was the centuries of victories astride the battlefield or the arrogance of the undefeated warrior that lead to his guard being lowered, but he knelt just the same bringing his face in too close to the downed suited man. A flash of silver was all he saw as the knife plunged deep into in his chest, he started to laugh at the idea that a simple blade could possibly damage him, an archangel, a sword of God himself, when suddenly it dawned on him that the blade was far from simple. His breath caught as his chest heaved, the markings on the knife were ancient and deadly and spelt death for even him, he tried to shout and scream defiance as would befit a warrior but all he could do was to die in a shitty farmhouse amongst the filthy monkeys.

             
Baine
staggered
out into the
night under the support of Lucifer
,
she dragged him up the stairs and into the cold air, his insides
were slowly beginning to knit as he held his internal organs in pressing his opened sides together. He did not speak as he tried to sort through his current situation, the bitch that had tried to gut him in the Cardiff police station had just saved his life, of that he had no doubt. The fucker in the pit was another goddamn angel, he did not know just how many of these bastards were still left, Michael and Azazel were gone,
and Gabriel
couldn’t have been here as he would have been leading the charge. Lucifer however now seemed to be wearing a white hat and charging to his rescue, as to her reasons they were a mystery, but there did seem to be a subtle change in her, when they had first met she had been as cold as ice and as hard as stone, but now there was a softening of sorts. She had spoken to the
Azazel
with kindness and
a kind of
regret, he was through trying to make sense of all of this and was now just looking to
hold his guts in,
get out of this
mess
in one piece and find his dancer.

T
he
buildings were of
a large farmhouse
estate that had seen better days,
judging by the size
and scope of the grounds,
t
he
y
had come up under a large
dark field
and found the area deserted, recent tyre marks sat heavily in the wet mud led towards a narrow B road passing the main house. A quick check around informed him that
t
he
y were
currently alone here, a collection of parked cars still remained, presumably belonging to those left behind
lying
under
in the pit
. Lucifer led him towards the house at a faster rate than he would have liked, she seemed almost desperate to reach the house and dragged him with incredible strength that was forceful but none too comfortable as his ruined body attempted its reconstruction.
They hit the closed front door without slowing, the solid heavy door surrendered easily under her assault, they spilled into the hallway, Baine would have liked a stealthier approach but Lucifer appeared to have little interest in a quiet entrance. She dropped him heavily onto the hardwood floor, he ground his teeth together in order to prevent the scream threatening to burst forth and shatter the silence, if Lucifer did not care about announcing her presence he certainly did.
She disappeared into the dark house, gone in a flash, Baine pulled himself across the floor to the wall, out of harm’s way, his temperature was sky high as his body focused all of its energies on repairs forgoing many of its primary functions. His feet slipped and skidded on his bloody trail as they fought to find purchase on the slick wooden flooring, when his back finally hit the wall he paused, he was helpless until his body was functioning again, he could only wait and if it didn’t seem laughable, pray.

             
Lucifer tore through the house in a panic, her mind would not hold, her emotions a whirlwind threatening to cloud all reason, her detective was here and while he still breathed so did she. The large lounge was completely dark as she ran through without pausing, a heavy lounge chair was sent flying as she hit it without registering the
impact. S
he suddenly stopped and bent forward, grabbing her thighs
hard, exquisitely manicured nails ripped deep into her flesh as she used every ounce of self control she had left, she stood slowly, tuning her senses to the environment. She caught a scent then it was gone, she heard a wet breath then lost it, there, there, she felt his heartbeat, faint and struggling, she ran to the hallway, a small utility cupboard under the stairs. She paused before opening it, scared of what lay
beyond;
she closed her eyes for a second and opened the door. McCullum lay curled within the darkness, his breathing rattled in his chest, his pulse was erratic and distant, she knelt to him, the large pool of blood began soaking through her trousers. She pulled his head tenderly onto her lap and stroked his feverish
forehead;
strange salty leakings fell from her onto his hair as she comforted him. He was fading fast, she could tell that he did not have long left, she was sure that he had held on for her
, she made the decision quickly. Cradling his head in her right arm she raised her left arm, using her mouth she pulled back her sleeve exposing her wrist she tore it open with her teeth and allowed the blood to flow steadily. She held her opened wrist to his face and forced the blood into his mouth, at first he resisted, twisting away from the coppery liquid, slowly he began to drink, reluctant at first then in large eager gulps as his strength returned. She began to drift and fade as he drew her
life-force
, his grip tightened on her arm as he drank
greedily;
she used her very last dregs of power to pull her arm from him.

             
The black cupboard grew light as McCullum began to glow, an aura of brilliant white emanated from the detective, he started to move, clenching and unclenching his fists, h
is eyes grew bright and alert. H
e crawled over the woman out into the hallway
, standing his spine cracked violently, his muscles flexed with power, his mind was sharp to the here and now but without access to his vault. He knew neither who nor where he was, he knew that he had been close to death but now he was stronger than he had been, he was a soldier and his was a solitary purpose, to protect his queen. He lifted her weakened body
out of the cupboard
effortlessly, she clung to him and he surrendered into her gaze as she looked up at him, she gestured for him to lower
her to the floor, she swayed once, twice then steadied. She took his hand and led him
down the hallway
, there was a man sitting against the wall, his face was pale and drawn, she released his hand and pointed, he scooped up the injured man flinging him over his shoulder as though he weighed nothing. They headed out into the cold night air, McCullum waited nervously whilst his queen disappeared from
sight;
he shifted anxiously from foot to foot hating for her to out of his sight for even a second. His shoulder began to feel wet as the man currently laying over it leaked fluids, he did not know who the man was but felt an immediate rush of dark jealousy at his queens concern for him, he exercised his new found strength by gripping the man un-necessarily hard and smiling unpleasantly at the pained moans that drifted upwards.