Wings of the Wicked
Page 95

Before I could say or do anything, Sammael slashed the scythe down through Emma’s body like butter, and I let out a sickened shriek as Emma began screaming and writhing in earsplitting agony, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. My stomach twisted and I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. I could only keep staring. But there was no blood, no wound, as if the blade had gone through her like she was a ghost. And then Sammael lifted the scythe, and something clung between it and Emma’s body, something silvery and viscous. I saw Emma slacken, and I thought her pain was over. A spring of hope went through me until I realized what the silvery-blue thing was, clinging desperately to her body. Her soul.
A face formed in the struggling mass caught between Sammael’s soul scythe and the girl’s body, a face that belonged to Emma. A perfect imprint of her pretty hair and face frozen in terror was cast in the soul’s form like ghostly clay, and limp arms and legs grew, but threads reached for Emma’s body, trying to free itself from the blade it was caught on. Sammael grabbed Emma’s soul around the throat and lifted it, parting his deathly blue lips. With a deep breath, he sucked Emma’s soul into his mouth like a vacuum until there was no more silvery shimmer left. I sobbed hysterically, and Emma fell to the floor in a crumpled, dead heap.
I realized suddenly that it was all over. Nathaniel was dead. Will was probably dead. I was chained up in a room filled with demonic reapers and two of the Fallen, and for a moment I gave up. I sagged against my chains, pressing myself against the wall of the Enochian spell binding my power, making me helpless.
Will’s words echoed in my head: “Don’t stop fighting.”
I couldn’t quit. I couldn’t end my ageless existence defeated and surrendered. I had always died fighting, and I would end fighting. If this was it, then I refused to be destroyed while chained to a wall and powerless. I was Gabriel, the Left Hand of God. I was a warrior.
I forced myself to stop crying as Sammael stepped around Emma’s body and moved toward me, raising his scythe.
“I am sorry to have to do this, sister,” he said. “But every last angel must die, including, and most importantly, those closest to God. I cannot have you stand in the way of the Morningstar.”
Something crashed above me, onto the floor above the cellar, and I flinched. I heard shouts and more crashes. I looked up, staring at the stone ceiling, listening to whatever was going on upstairs. Sammael was also looking up, his cold expression stone hard. Someone let out a scream of pain, and then there was another crash.
“You!” Lilith snapped at one of the demonic reaper lackeys. “Go upstairs. See what’s going on.”
He darted up the stairs and out of my sight. I heard the cellar door open, and someone let out a muffled cry. Something ripped, and a moment later he tumbled back down the stairs in two halves. By the time his body hit the bottom step, his parts were nothing more than a waterfall of tumbling rocks. Footsteps descended, and the person they belonged to gasped for breath as he came into view.
It was Will.
27
WILL’S CLOTHES AND SKIN WERE DRENCHED WITH rain and blood, his shirt torn from injuries healed and ones acquired moments before. I stared at him, so surprised and overcome with joy to see him alive that I couldn’t say a thing. I hadn’t even cried out to him. But still, his eyes—crystalline green and bright as stars—were locked on mine, and he knew what I felt inside, because that was exactly how he felt, too. That was as much of a reunion as we would get for now.
Then he charged, sword high, and my elation turned into fear for his life once again. There was no way he could fight everyone in here. They would kill him before he got close enough to Sammael to see the gold of his eyes.
“Destroy the Guardian!” Lilith shrieked above the chaos.
Two of the demonic reaper guards attacked him before he reached the bottom step, both swinging blades. Will dispatched them quickly, shoving his blade into the chest of one of them, splitting bone and flesh before tearing it out and taking off the head of the reaper behind him.
Merodach collided with him next, moving out of the way of Will’s sword and calling his own into his hand. He sliced, sweeping one end of the double blade low, and it slashed across Will’s side, ripping another tear in his shirt. Will paid it no mind and continued his assault.
I watched Kelaeno bound toward them. “Look out!” I cried to him.
Will slammed his foot into Merodach’s chest, knocking the demonic reaper into the wall as Kelaeno jumped into the fray and Will cracked the pommel of his sword into her face. Blood sprayed from her nose, and she reeled back, hissing and snarling. Merodach swung his sword just as Will’s body was yanked away abruptly by an unseen force. His back slammed into the far wall, shattering stone. Debris and his sword crashed to the floor, but he hung there, suspended in the air, his body grinding into the wall as he groaned in pain. His fists balled at the ends of his outstretched arms and he strained against the force, but it was too much for him. I stared in confusion and horror, and then I saw Sammael’s hand reaching for Will and felt the push of his seemingly infinite strength. My horror thickened, making my heart pound harder, as I realized Sammael was using his power to manipulate Will’s body, something no reaper or even I could do. Something I didn’t know how to defend against.
A second subtle movement of Sammael’s clawed hand dragged Will through the air and slammed him into the ground.
Lilith laid a hand on Sammael’s arm. “My lord, don’t spend what little energy you have. You’ll need it all for Gabriel.”