ALEXA HAD NEVER BEEN TO London on assignment, and from the elegant white stone buildings and townhouses that lined the streets, she guessed they were in some upscale neighborhood. She could see that some of the buildings had been converted into apartments and flats, but no light shone from their balconies or windows.
The evening skies were angry and dark gray, casting a gloomy darkness over the city and deepening the sense of urgency on the band of angels.
Lance hadn’t exaggerated when he said that it was literary hell on Earth. Everywhere Alexa looked, catastrophe lay in their path. The remains of buildings lined the streets with concrete and debris carpeting the sidewalks. Pavement was torn open with long gouges on the edges as though something large had crawled out of the depths of the Earth. Fires burned, and the air smelled of burnt flesh, sulfur and death.
Alexa didn’t have to smell death to know it was there. She felt its icy fingers crawling up her spine like thousands of tiny prickly needles. Death was everywhere. In the air and on the ground, it clung to her like a mist, only this mist didn’t go away like morning dew.
Lance led the way with confidence, keeping to the middle of the street. His white fur shone brightly against the gray somber skies.
Nerves didn’t pound through Alexa’s body as she marched alongside Lance and Milo, but excitement did, a thrill that she would finally get her revenge and would finally put Hades back where he belonged—in death.
Alexa wasn’t afraid anymore to face Hades. She could almost feel the delight of cutting him through with the bone sword. She would get her memories back, heal her fractured soul, and the world will be right again, she promised herself.
The streets were deserted. Only a few mortals dared to walk them, under the threat of hail the size of golf balls, and the lightning bolts that fell around the city like gleaming hot rain.
It was better that way, Alexa told herself, less mortals to worry about.
An electric zap reached her, and when Alexa looked up, several of the streetlights lining the sidewalk went out.
“Stay alert,” said Milo as he drew his sabers. “Death is near.”
For almost five minutes, they strode up empty, deserted streets. The only sound was the clacking of their boot-nails on the cobbles. There were no birds or animals. Not even insects. Just ruin, decay, and bodies—
Alexa let out a little gasp and froze where she was. “Are those… are those….”
“Dead angels? Yes,” said Lance. The horror was plain in the sound his voice. “It’s always hard the first time you see a dead angel. We’re told we’re immortal, so we think we can never die, but it’s not true. Any of us can suffer our true death. Each one of us can die.”
Alexa stared at the bodies, Lance’s words echoing in her ears. Slowly, Alexa moved towards the bodies although she could barely feel her legs. She stared down at their faces. One was a young man in his early thirties, and lying next to him was a girl who couldn’t be more than twelve. Their eyes were open and vacant. Both had been ripped apart, their M-Suits shredded in ribbons, and both lay in puddles of translucent white liquid, their angel essence. She’d never seen so much lifeblood spilled from an angel body. It was clear that they had suffered major wounds that couldn’t be healed in time, or they were too weak to look for a source of water to get back to Horizon.
She didn’t care to hide the horror and guilt that spread through her like a sickness.
Alexa had expected to see the bodies of mortals, but she wasn’t prepared or had even imagined that she would see dead angels.
“Alexa, we can’t stay here,” said Lance urgently. “We need to find Ariel and the others. It’s not safe. There are hundreds maybe thousands of demons in the city, only too happy to do to us what they did to them. Come away now. Hurry.”
Alexa couldn’t look away from the dead angels. “We can’t just leave them here. It’s wrong.”
“We can’t take them with us either,” said Lance. “If their souls survived, they’ll be reborn. That is the way of angels. And it’s the best we can hope for.”
With the lack of conviction in Lance’s voice, Alexa knew he believed their souls had been consumed by whatever demon had done this. Why else rip them apart, if not to taste their souls…
She felt a hand on her shoulder and then Milo’s voice whispered above her. “Come, Alexa. There’s nothing we can do for them, but there’s still time to save many others.”
After a moment, and with a small nod of her head, Alexa rose to her feet and followed Milo and Lance down the street.
But Alexa’s nausea only worsened the deeper they ventured into the city. The dead were no longer partially mortals, but all angels.
She tried not to flinch as she walked past a guardian angel, who she recognized as Carol, from the Counter Demon Division crew. They’d never really talked, and she wouldn’t have considered her a friend, but seeing her now on the ground and broken filled her with murderous rage. Fury seethed in her, anger and fear fueling her struggle, but the dead angels were everywhere, all around her.
More and more bodies of angels scattered the streets, and Alexa, Milo, and Lance picked their way through bodies and the rubble. Alexa felt as though she was stepping through a monument to evil, as though she was back in purgatory.
Finally, they reached an iron-gated fence that ran around the base of a large park the size of Central Park in New York. A sign read Victoria Gate, Hyde Park.
Swords clashed nearby in a violent battle amongst the shadows of tall oak trees. The sharp cries of the dying sliced through the cool evening breeze. Roars echoed from the distant boundary of the park as what sounded like hundreds of angels in hand-to-hand combat with demons uttered low war cries.
Swords tore demon flesh, splintered bone, knocked the demons down and over, but still they came until they were literally ripped apart and shredded into pieces. Suddenly, the fighting slowed, but before it could entirely cease, another wave of demons came thrashing and clawing at the angels.
Alexa could smell the acrid scents of both fear and hate from those who fought for their lives. She tasted the rotten tang of demon that had sunk to into the ground, and a sweet citrus smell that she couldn’t identify.
“There’s Ariel,” said Lance suddenly, “over there, inside the war tent.”
Alexa looked across the park and spotted a white tent made of heavy-looking canvas. Standing in the center of the tent was the archangel Ariel. There were other archangels with her, and Alexa recognized the shorter stockier shape of Metatron. She could see angels lying on the grass outside the tent while oracles tended to the wounded. Alexa had never seen the oracles without their giant crystal balls. They looked more human now, more mundane.
The three of them dashed across the grounds towards the tent. As they neared, Alexa saw papers scattered over a long table illuminated by two lamp-size crystal balls. Alexa saw that the archangel’s clothes were covered in black ichor. She had a deep gash along her right cheek and an assortment of vicious knives, swords, and daggers was strapped to her body.
At the sound of them approaching, Ariel whirled around. The archangel studied them for a moment. Her face was dark and, Alexa had to admit with a stir, a bit terrifying.
“Where have you been?” she said, her eyes flaring like embers and with barely controlled anger. “We looked everywhere for the two of you. Angels are not supposed to leave their posts—ever—and not without a direct order from me. How could you leave at a time like this?”
Alexa flinched at the harshness in Ariel’s voice. “But I thought…” she said carefully and then added, “The archangel Sabrielle said—”
“What did Sabrielle say?” inquired Metatron as he moved closer, blowing smoke from his cigar. Alexa could feel his glare pinned on her behind his dark sunglasses.
Alexa looked back at Ariel. “I thought you knew,” she said, surprised that the archangel had no idea where she and Milo had gone since it was supposed to have been on her orders.
“Knew what?” Ariel tossed a sheet of paper that she was holding on the table. “That you like to disobey the Legion? That you think yourself above rules and regulations? The Legion has tolerated your involvement with the pagan god Hades and what’s happened to you, but don’t think for one minute that this little excursion and disobedience is going to go without a severe punishment.”
Alexa threw a covert glance at Milo. He looked as puzzled as she was. Lance looked as though he was about to go dig a hole in the ground and hide in it. He cowered behind Alexa’s legs and tried to be invisible.
She felt her insides tighten. Why would Sabrielle keep this from the Legion? They could all benefit from the bone sword, from Hades’ demise. Still, there was something wrong about this whole thing. Sabrielle knew that if Ariel had known about their trip to purgatory, she would never have let them go. Sabrielle had known all along. It was why she had gone behind the Legion’s back and risked their lives in secret.
Alexa looked down at herself and felt ashamed at how clean her clothes were and how unspoiled she and Milo were compared to the archangels and angels.
She slid her gaze outside the tent and saw several angels that she knew from CDD stare openly at her and Milo, not caring to hide the revulsion and anger in their faces, as though she and Milo had run away from the fight like cowards.
Alexa looked away, her fists tightened.
More victims lay across the park. Angels darted past them across the grounds, where they joined the fight already flourishing. And now even more angels stormed across the park. They were met by large, ape-like, two-headed demons Alexa had never seen before. The angels looked wild as they cut and sliced through the oncoming horde of beasts.
She could see no mortals, no Sensitives fighting with the angels. This was a battle of the supernatural, of angel against demon. Every angel around them was in a state of either high anxiety or open alarm.
Guilt rushed through her. She should be fighting with them. And when she looked over at Milo, his expression was hard and distant as he watched the battle.
“Where’s the archangel Sabrielle,” asked Alexa, looking back at the archangel with a pressure against her chest that had nothing to do with the fake heart beneath her ribs.
“No one’s seen her in over an hour,” said Ariel, shaking her head. “She disappears, and now you two show up, as though nothing’s happened. When I come to think of it, she disappeared as soon as word reached us that the two of you had returned to Horizon.”
Alexa looked into Ariel’s eyes and saw the accusation there. “I’m sorry, archangel Ariel, we didn’t know—”
“Sorry won’t bring back Arthur, Susan, Paul, Simon, Helen, John, or the hundreds of angels we’ve lost, will it?” her eyes narrowed. “I can barely stand to look at you right now.”
Alexa’s eyes burned and she fought to control her tears from spilling down her face.
“What did Sabrielle say to you?” said Metatron, looking both nervous and angry. “Did she ask you to do something for her? Did she ask you to leave Horizon?”
Alexa then noticed he was without his usual personal guard, the gorgeous and lethal Jasmine and Michelle. Were they out fighting with the rest of them?
Metatron inched forward, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt them rolling over every inch of her, scrutinizing her, looking for something hidden.
She didn’t know what possessed her, but she hid the hilt of the bone sword with her jacket, and hoped Metatron’s x-ray vision hadn’t seen it.
Alexa had the strongest feeling that if she told them about the bone sword, they would take it away from her. She straightened, doing her best to hide the lie that pounded in her. She wouldn’t let them take the sword. Not after everything she’d been through with Milo. The sword was hers, hers to use on Hades. The Legion could have the sword back—after she killed Hades. Not before.
Things might have taken a turn for the worst if Milo had confessed. But he hadn’t uttered a single word yet.
The archangel Ariel caught her staring at Milo, and she moved on him. “I expected better from you, Milo,” said the archangel, and Alexa saw guilt flash across his face.
“I can’t even begin to express how disappointed I am with you. How angry I am—one of our best guardians—skipping out on his duties. Rookies can be foolish. It’s even expected of them, but you, you’re a celebrated petty officer. You’ve always been in the Legion’s good graces… I am astonished that you would be so careless, so stupid and reckless, and especially at a time like this.”
Milo hung his head, his jaw clenching. “I’m sorry, archangel Ariel.”
Ariel’s face was pinched. “What have you got to say for yourself? You were missing for more than five hours. Where did you go for all that time? Who gave you permission to leave? Was it Sabrielle? And don’t you dare lie to me,” she added. “I’ll know if you do. Speak!”
Milo stared at the ground, his face screwed up in concentration, and Alexa knew he was preparing to lie, lie for her.
Before she knew what she was doing, the lie she was prepared to tell vanished and she stepped forward, blurting, “We were in pur—”
The ground shook beneath Alexa’s feet, followed by an ear-splitting boom as though the sky had torn itself apart, and then shouts and screams.
“You stay where you are, rookie. Alexa!”
But Alexa had already bolted out of the tent. The archangel Ariel’s scream echoed behind her as she dashed across the grounds, following the shouting. She didn’t hear what they were shouting, but the fear she saw on the faces of the angels that flew past her fueled her limbs to go faster.
Black blood, as thick as oil, splattered the ground, slicking the grass so Alexa’s feet slipped out from under her. She kept running.
Beyond the ring of angels were hundreds of demons, creatures with corpse-pale skin covered in blisters and boils. Their eyes were vacant as they hurled themselves at the angels, thrashing in a violent blur of claws and teeth. Alexa saw a male angel fall back, his throat torn out and his essence spilling out of him like a water hose.
Alexa had reached the middle of the park when she understood what had caused the boom.
Demons and humanoid creatures that could only be pagan gods spilled out of a black hole like a portal the size of a large truck. Dozens emerged at a time—a Hellgate.
And next to it, sitting on a pile of dead angels like a throne, was Hades.