It was far too dangerous to allow Sam and Sean to get too close to the fighting, so we positioned them on opposite ends of the site, each hidden away behind a bush or tree. They would act as lookouts, and Lillith would use her powers of being able to hear a mortal’s thoughts to relay information back to the other Hybrids.
But the guys weren’t left unprotected. Sam was equipped with his shotgun, the same one he brandished against us when we first met him. He also had every single knife that had been in Dorian’s weapons cache and would use them to protect himself if necessary.
Sean had Gladys, his .50 cal handgun, to keep him safe.
I could only hope that neither needed to use their weapons and would remain undetected and unscathed throughout the conflict.
We took a stand at the burial site. I positioned myself at the center with a borrowed sword that I’d taken from Dorian’s weapon duffel, guarded by all one hundred and twenty-three Hybrids including Dorian, Lillith, and Rami. Arna was there as well and would be a valuable ally in the sky if needed. They completely surrounded me, making a ring around the burial site and keeping their backs to me.
It didn’t take long before the enemy began to arrive. One by one, Azazel’s henchmen appeared, some by portal and others on foot, each wielding weapons and their game face. They all lined up, shoulder-to-shoulder, at the outer perimeter, completely surrounding the site.
“Seriously. Do these people own anything other than black leather?” I mumbled under my breath, catching Dorian’s backward glance.
Raja arrived, his flaming wings lighting up the night sky. He landed on the ledge of the rock formation above us, and stood quietly. It was as if he was waiting for something.
But it wasn’t until we saw a white light coming from the sky that we understood who he was waiting for.
The light was blinding. It grew in size, becoming so bright that it forced everyone to look away. A noise, which sounded like a tornado, ripped through the air, causing some to cover their ears.
And then...silence.
Everyone looked up and saw that Raja was no longer alone.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was. There was only one logical option.
“Azazel,” I whispered to myself, my pulse beginning to race.
He was an immense presence, at least nine feet tall, if not taller. His wings stretched out behind him and appeared as if they were endless. He didn’t draw them in, instead opting to keep them unfurled, possibly as a way to intimidate his adversaries and motivate his followers. The yellow glow enveloping him made it difficult to gaze on him directly. We all squinted, shading our eyes in an effort to get a look at our enemy.
His hair was long, down to the middle of his back, and it was as white as new snow. He wore a majestic amethyst-colored gown that flowed freely to his ankles. His breast plate was molded tightly to his chest and appeared to be made of pure gold. He wore a belt, similar to my own, which held a large broadsword. Its hilt was gold, and its guard was encrusted with various gems. I knew that while it was a beautiful weapon, it was also probably extremely deadly in his hands.
If not for the fact that he was a power-hungry Watcher bent on world domination and genocide, one would have found him an impressive figure leaning toward handsome. He was, after all, an angel. What else would he be?
Azazel finally tucked his wings up behind him and pulled his sword from its sheath. He held it, point down, and stood gazing out at the standoff below him. He raised his free hand and gestured directly at me.
“You there. Daughter of Keelin, bastard child of the Makgill clan. Surrender yourself to me. Do so, and you shall save thy companions.” He lowered his hand and stared me down, refusing to look away from me. “What have you to say?”
Azazel’s words struck a nerve with my supporters. Many began to grumble to each other, whispering their thoughts about the Watcher standing before us. I glanced around, feeling the power of their loyalty driving me to be brave.
I stood motionless and simply stared back. The silence was loud, with the only noise being the crickets off in the distance, singing us a song of courage. My hand reached across my hip and slowly, carefully, I pulled out my sword. I allowed it to hang loosely from my fingers, turning the hilt over and over through my hand. My mind raced as I gathered my thoughts in retaliation. I needed to say something. He had to know exactly where I stood.
So, I held up my middle finger and displayed it proudly for Azazel to see.
My allies suddenly grew silent, satisfied at my rebuttal.
“Better be careful who you call a bastard child, because you’re the only bastard I see at the moment,” I said with a sneer on my face, lowering my finger.
Azazel’s mouth curved up slightly on one side with amusement.
“You are showing me that you are brave? That I do not frighten you? This is foolishness, and you shall burn.”
“Really?” I asked. “You’re going to kill me? You’re like, what? A million years old? At your age, I bet you couldn’t even bend over and tie your shoes.” I glanced down at his feet and noticed they were bare. “If you wore shoes, that is. And I’m just over three hundred years old. I think I have the advantage. Never dismiss youth, old man. Besides, my friends and I have already taken out some of your Hybrids. They’re no match for us. So, I think maybe you’re a bit too overconfident in the abilities of your pets.”
Raja laughed at my attempt to be facetious, which only fueled my hatred of him more. He reached up and pulled something out from a leather scabbard hanging on his back between his wings. He slowly brought it down in front of him and held it out for me to see.
It was my sword—the spear.
Azazel gestured at the weapon in Raja’s hand.
“Without this, you have no hope of winning the war. You should give yourself up to me, and it shall be done.”
“Listen jack hole,” I said. “I’m not saying it again. It’s never going to happen.”
“Then, your friends will die a most violent death. And their blood shall be on your hands.” The crooked smile on his face was quickly replaced with immense intensity, his eyes glowing bright yellow with apparent anger.
For a moment, I worried about what he said. Many of Shamsiel’s Hybrids would die. They were fighting for humanity and to keep Azazel from beginning a new realm on Earth where he would place himself as a god among angels.
I couldn’t allow him to raise the Fallen and destroy all of mankind for his own selfish, narcissistic motives. My eyes scoured the group of Hybrids surrounding me, protecting the site. They were all there willingly. No one forced them to come and fight that battle.
I knew they wouldn’t let me down.
So, I wasn’t about to let them down.
“You should know that I don’t quit. I never surrender. And I will never, ever cave to the demands of a madman bent on destroying the humans of this world,” I said calmly, trying hard to hide my fear.
“The humans of this world have squandered their right to live.” Azazel’s expression changed from smug amusement to utter fury, his voice growing louder. “They fight one another over religions that simply do not exist. Humans created religion. They use it to justify their own understanding of a God they have never understood. They have killed one another in the name of their God, and for what? For bragging rights? For land? To be able to say that their God is more powerful than their enemy’s? Humans, as far as I’m concerned, lost the right to exist during the time of Noah. But the creator took pity on His people, allowing them to begin again. Start over. And what has mankind done with that second chance? They became even more sinful. Evil. Destructive. Abominable. They no longer deserve to live, and I shall see to their extinction myself.”
“Who made you God?” I shouted.
“You blaspheme,” hissed Azazel.
“No. You have decided to be mankind’s judge, jury, and executioner. Did God give you that right? Has He passed down the command to destroy them all? It’s ironic, don’t you think? You accuse them of doing to each other what you plan on doing to all of them. Your God is their God. Does your God not believe in mercy? In forgiveness? And yet, you seem not to be able to show mercy and forgiveness to the very same people your God created. What does that say about you?”
Azazel grew enraged, his face contorting as if possessed.
“You mock me. You are nothing but a bastard child. What do you know of the ancient ways of Heaven and the Watchers? He showed us no mercy when He imprisoned my brothers there, below your feet. And for what? For teaching mortal man His mysteries? The secrets of the stars, the roots of the earth, the gems of the mountains?”
“Fathering bastard giant children?” I interjected.
Raja stepped forward, prepared to attack at my reference, but Azazel put out his arm to stop him in his tracks.
The Watcher continued as if I hadn’t interrupted.
“We mingled with His humans, fell in love with the women, laid with them, and they bore us children. We opened their eyes to the wonders of His universe. And for that, we were punished, interned beneath the earth. And where is He now that His mortal men carry out the same sins with their science, their math, and their understanding of the universe? Where is He? He does nothing. He allows their free will to run rampant, to twist His words to their own will, turning their backs on Him and all He has done for them. So do not talk to me about things you do not understand. You were not there in the beginning.” Azazel lifted his sword up and pointed it at me. “But you will be there in the end.”