Wings of the Wicked - By Courtney Allison Moulton Page 0,125
personal.
A hand clamped around my throat and hurled me into the wall. I cracked my skull against the stone and I slumped for a heartbeat, just long enough for a fist to whale on my face. The blow sent me spinning back into the wall, and pain shot through my skull and neck. My eyes misted over but then focused on Kelaeno’s furious face above me.
“Bring Gabriel to me!” Sammael’s voice roared over all the pandemonium, his orders firm and immediately obeyed.
Kelaeno dragged me toward the Fallen as I struggled, clawing and thrashing at her hands. And then she was gone. I whirled, now free, to find that Will had hauled her off me. His fist pounded into her head over and over, her face snapping side to side with each blow. Blood flecked from her lips and her eyes stared at nothing. She gave her head a shake and darted past him toward me. Will spun to follow her. He grabbed Kelaeno’s head with his hands around her forehead and chin and gave a swift twist. Her neck made a sickening crack and her body slumped, whitening to stone. As the ancient reaper’s knees hit the ground, her body shattered. Will staggered a step back, taking a deep, triumphant breath, and his blazing eyes locked on Merodach as the demonic reaper ambushed me from the side, his sword slicing through the air at me. The first of my blades caught his as I slashed my second up the side of his throat and face, deep enough to grate against bone, but not deep enough to kill. Through the flying sheet of his blood, Merodach screamed in rage and tore away from me as the angelfire burned a bleached white scar into his dark skin. He clutched at his face, howling in agony.
I launched myself to finish him off, but a light flashed—a light so blinding and quick that I was momentarily paralyzed, burying my face in my hands as my eyes burned like they were on fire. I fell to my knees, curling my limbs into myself, the heat and light just too much. The light dimmed only enough for me to squint up at its source, and the sight took my breath away.
An angel hovered above Will and me, his wings spread and luminous, dividing us from our enemies. He was not Michael, nor was he an archangel. He wore long white robes that billowed around his body in unseen wind, cloaking his brown skin. His face was gentle and determined, his russet eyes settling on me. Chained to his waist was a massive, weathered book, and in his hands he held a long, elegant staff with a beautiful, curved, jeweled blade forged to one end. The other side of me—Gabriel—knew him. He was Azrael, the holy angel of death. The Destroyer.
He nodded to me and smiled. “Gabriel,” he said, his voice eerily calm and musical. “I can stay only for a few moments, but I will hold them off. This battle is not to your advantage. For now, my sister, you must run.” He looked at Will. “Get her far away from here, Guardian.”
“Azrael!” Sammael’s cry of fury shook my entire body, and I could feel his rage scraping at my skin as his power oozed through the cellar. The leonine reapers shrieked and screeched metallic cries from somewhere unseen.
Without another word, Will took my hand and we darted through the light, Azrael’s glory too bright for me to see anything with my human eyes. I had to trust Will would find the stairs and get us both out safely. My foot hit the bottom step, and I hesitated just long enough for Will to lift me, guiding my feet up the staircase. Safely out of the blinding light drowning the cellar, we found ourselves on the first floor of an old house crumbling from battling reapers and decades of neglect.
I heard crashes from somewhere on this level and ducked instinctively. I was shocked to see Ava slash open the throat of another reaper with a short, thin sword and then drive it into his heart.
She wheeled to face us, breathless. “What’s going on down there?”
“Are we too late?” called Marcus’s voice. I turned to see Marcus kick a reaper in the chest and yank a blade from his heart as his body turned white hard with death.
Will laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Just in time. Let’s get the hell out of here.”