eagerly.
“Let’s get this over with,” he croaked, ready to die despite the fact that there was still so very much he did not know.
Maybe, said a part of him, that is for the better.
The Filthies appeared to be about to pounce on him, when there came a sudden buzz, voices of the angels at the far back of the gathering speaking in harsh whispers that spread throughout the crowd.
Then the crowd parted like the Red Sea in the old Cecil B. DeMille classic to reveal a hunched figure slowly making its way toward Remy.
“Does my eye deceive me?” asked a voice as dry and seemingly encrusted as the flesh of the Filthies. Yet there was something familiar about it.
The figure stood before Remy, and he felt his blood become like ice as he recognized the angel.
The Archangel Michael was a shell of his former glory: his perfect skin covered with puckered scars; only one of his once glorious golden wings left upon his back; his luxurious hair, at one time like spun gold, merely stubble upon a pocked and scarred skull.
Michael leaned closer, focusing his single good eye on Remy.
“Ah yes, it is a familiar face,” said the archangel with a chilling smile of black and jagged teeth. “So very nice to be reunited with family.”
And with a barely perceptible nod from their master, the Filthies reacted, swarming upon Remy, fists and weapons raining down upon him, driving him into a bed of corpses.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
She felt as if they were gathered to say their good-byes, but that wasn’t the case at all. At least that’s what Linda kept telling herself.
“So this will save him?” she asked, pulling her gaze from the paleness of her dying lover.
The angel Assiel was standing at the foot of the bed. “There is a chance, yes,” he said, but his tone didn’t quite give her the boost of confidence she was looking for.
“If there’s any chance at all, I say we do it,” Ashley said, nervously petting Marlowe’s head as he sat beside her.
“I’m still not a hundred percent on what you’re asking them to do,” Mulvehill said. He and the ugly little man named Squire were standing in the doorway. “Could you run it by me again?”
“Jesus,” Squire said with an eye roll. “He’s going to send them into Remy’s psyche to anchor his life energies before they’re completely drained away. Do you need me to draw a fucking diagram?”
“Y’know what? A fucking diagram might be helpful,” the police detective snapped, the tension in the room beginning to show its effects.
“They are the three closest to his heart,” Assiel said.
“Three?” Linda asked.
“Yes, three,” the healer confirmed. “Ashley, you, and him.” The angel pointed to Marlowe, whose tail had begun to wag.
“Marlowe? Are you serious?”
Assiel nodded. “The animal shares a special bond, similar but unlike the connection you two share with him. Marlowe’s link will serve to reinforce each of your own.”
Linda knelt before the dog and gave him a hug as he licked her face. “I always knew you were a special boy,” she said. “Of course you’ll be part of saving Remy.”
“And us?” Squire asked. “Should we be part of this Vulcan mind-meld pajama party?”
“Unnecessary,” Assiel said. “I think these three will be more than sufficient. You two will need to stand guard over us, for as long as we are connected to Remy, we will be unable to defend ourselves.”
“See, that’s something I can understand. We’ll hold down the fort while you guys are fixing him up.”
Mulvehill was staring at Remy, and Linda could see the concern in his eyes.
“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” he said with a nod. “I think it’s going to work.”
“Yeah, linking up two women and a dog to the dwindling life energies of a Seraphim—what could go wrong?” Squire asked sarcastically.
Mulvehill slapped the top of the ugly little man’s head. “We don’t need that right now,” he said with a snarl.
“Watch it, Detective,” Squire said, rubbing the sparse hair of his oddly shaped head. “We aren’t that close.”
Linda had had enough. “What do we need to do?” she prompted Assiel, nervously rubbing her hands together.
“Get on the bed with him,” Assiel ordered, motioning with his long fingers.
Linda sat next to Remy.
“Closer,” the angel corrected. “I need you all as close to him as you can get.”
“Like this?” Linda asked, crawling up onto the bed and lying beside her lover.
Assiel nodded. “Closer if possible.” The angel looked at Ashley. “You as well—close.”
Ashley moved around to the