A Deafening Silence In Heaven - Thomas E. Sniegoski Page 0,133

were both standing in the hallway now, just outside the bedroom doorway, peering down the stairs. A fine smoke had started to drift up from the living room below.

“So, what do you think we should do?”

“Well, one of us should probably stay up here and protect Remy and the others.”

“Sounds about right,” Mulvehill agreed. The sounds of battle were growing louder, having obviously moved into the living room from the kitchen. “You want to stay up here while I . . .”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t want to stay up here, either,” Mulvehill said. “How about whoever has the most bullets . . .”

“You have the most bullets; we already fucking know that,” Squire said. “All right, whoever has the most bullets stays here.” And the hobgoblin bolted down the stairs.

“No fucking way,” Mulvehill called out behind him as he started down the stairs as well. “If you get killed right now, I’m going to be royally pissed.”

A powerful, blood-covered figure appeared in the living room doorway below them, and Squire fired. Assiel moved his head aside and the bullet embedded itself in the wall behind him.

“Oh shit.” Squire gasped.

The angel glared but was quickly distracted by the Bone Master assassins that threw themselves at him. With a birdlike shriek, he drove them back again with his slashing blades.

“Get up to the room!” he yelled to Mulvehill and Squire.

“We can help,” Mulvehill said, moving forward, his gun ready.

“No!” the angel commanded. “Go to the room and barricade yourselves inside. Awaken Remy’s friends if you can.”

Assiel was wild with his blades, slashing and stabbing crazily, but Mulvehill knew that it was only a matter of time before . . .

Multiple shots were fired and he saw the angel’s skin erupt, blood spewing from the entry wounds.

“What about Remy?” Mulvehill cried as he and Squire began to retreat.

“It’s too late for him! You must try to save those who can be helped.”

• • •

Assiel heard the human and the hobgoblin race up the stairs again. He chanced a final look over his shoulder and saw them standing in the doorway.

“No worries,” the angel tried to reassure them. “At least this time I die on the side of the righteous.”

And with those words, his allies slammed closed the door, and the angelic healer turned his full attention to his foes.

The Bone Masters had massed in the living area, watching him with cold killers’ eyes, smiles on some of their twisted faces. He knew what they were waiting for; he could feel the effects starting to overcome his body.

The very poison that had rendered the Seraphim Remiel so close to death now coursed through his own body. And he knew not how much longer he had before he would succumb to its deadly effects.

Assiel had always wondered when and how his death would come, knowing only that it was inevitable. He’d always been shocked that he hadn’t died in the Great War. The Lord God Almighty had been merciful to him afterward, allowing him penance upon the world of man. The angel had indeed recognized the error in his judgment, even more so after coming to understand humanity and their special place in the heart of God.

And now he knew.

The angel stumbled into the nearby wall. That seemed to make his killers all the more excited, slowly moving toward him en masse, their weapons clutched in their filthy hands. It wouldn’t be long now, this he knew. There was a burning numbness in his limbs and joints, making his appendages feel as though they weighed tons.

His vision was beginning to fail, but he could see their numbers as they spread out through the house. There were still too many of them, even though he and the others had taken down quite a few.

He needed to cull the herd, so to speak, and he needed to do it quickly, before he was unable to move. Gripping his twin blades all the tighter, he pushed himself away from the wall and advanced toward his foes.

The Bone Masters stared at him, and he knew they were wondering if this old fallen angel still had any fight left in him.

Assiel smiled and tossed back his head, letting go a shrieking cry of war before leaping at his foes. Did he still have any fight left in him?

Oh yes, he most certainly did.

• • •

Ashley guessed that she must have been dozing.

She seemed to be having one of those strange dreams, the kind that seemed so real that the dreamer had