Page 21 of Consorting With The Enemy

Of course, no actual noises were released, but my mind screamed in frustration. I felt myself grow more and more frustrated with each passing second. Angrier. Good, that’s what I always needed if I was going to find my Gaudet magic and use it…and it would take it to dig myself out of this shithole. I felt the magic begin to swirl inside of me. It grew and grew, just as it had the day that I’d destroyed my father. I’d been in his chambers, listening to him hurl fury and insults my way because I hadn’t managed to capture Marchand and bring him to the underworld. Blah, blah, blah. If he sent another after Marchand, I’d simply protect the ball of fluff. But, then…then he’d mentioned Azazel. He’d threatened to destroy the fallen angel just to see me suffer. How he’d known of any connection between the two of us, I hadn’t had a clue. I’d only known that I had to protect Az—protect him with every ounce of power inside me. There’d been a battle between the two of us, one that I’d spent the majority of time losing…and losing was putting it nicely. He’d practically ripped me to shreds, slowly but surely, and enjoyed every second of my agony. When he’d called one of his royal guards in the room and asked that he summon Tantrumonious—that he had a job for him—it was then that I’d lost my shit. I couldn’t allow him to send Tantrum to the earthly realm. I didn’t think he could defeat Az, but it hadn’t been a chance I’d been willing to take. The magic had gathered, swirled, and then exploded from my body—surprising me even more than my father. For one fleeting second in time, there’d been a shocked look on his face and then he’d simply exploded.

Yes, exploded. I wasn’t going to lie. I’d enjoyed seeing it happen.

Like that encounter, I felt the magic build and then there was another explosion—this one totally different since no one got disintegrated, but just as powerful. The web of magic that had trapped my mind and body evaporated. Furious that they’d left me behind, I attempted to leap from the bed so I could join them.

Nothing.

Couldn’t move.

I was lying face down on my own bed, the same bed where Az and I had fucked and vowed our love to one another mere hours earlier, with iron chains draped across my arms, back, and legs. Iron. Fucking iron—the ridiculous metal that somehow managed to make itself most useful against nearly every supernatural creature. Demons weren’t troubled with it, but witches certainly were.

I tried to move again, but it felt like the weight of the world held me immobile. I concentrated. Well, I concentrated as much as possible considering how pissed I was that they’d imposed a back-up plan in case the first spell failed. Fuck, they’d known it would. Damn them for being so fucking smart. They’d undoubtedly known that when I called upon the magic inside me to release me from the spell, it would make the witch portion of my body more prevalent, which would cause the iron to be an even more difficult task than normal. Focusing, I used everything in me to try and get the heavy metal to move away from me.

I was weak…too weak. I shouldn’t feel this drained of energy and strength. What else had they done to me? How could I battle it if I didn’t know what it was? I was wasting time. My new family needed me, and I was tied to a fucking bed…short of blood. Yep, that was it. Those damn vampires had nearly drained me dry.

Oh, hell, no. This was war. When this was over, not only would Az get on his knees for me, I was going to fuck his ass until he couldn’t walk for a month. He had actually let another man put his fangs in me? What. The. Fuck. I’d kill another man for looking at Az, much less touching him.

Oh, yeah. The fury was building again, even stronger than ever before. Drink my blood, would they? Think they’d weaken me, huh? They’d underestimated me. Again. Even in my weakened state, thoughts of wicked discipline to inflict on my angel caused the iron chains to fly across the room with enough force to knock a hole in the concrete walls.

Finally free, I staggered to my feet. Swayed with weakness. Bowed my back with determination and started grabbing my clothing and fighting gear. With every piece of leather that I crammed my body into, I cursed Az and the rest of group. By the time I was dressed and heavy laden with armory, I barely had the strength to move. That didn’t matter, though. I had a place to be and an angel to scream at. I felt my eyes darken and flexed my back, willing my wings to unfurl.

Nothing.

Fuck me seven ways straight to hell. I was weaker than I’d realized. Laughing hysterically, because the wing thing was obviously the final straw for my sanity, I looked around the room for my cell phone. It looked like I was going to have to fucking Uber to the demon warzone. Oh, the indignity. My brother would get a huge laugh out of that…right before I made him into tiny little pieces just like I did our father.

****

Azazel

I might have known Tantrumonious wouldn’t fight me without making certain I’d cut my way through countless other demons just so he would be assured I was weakened—even if he did have one of my feathers. The cowardly bastard should have been willing to face me to avoid any other bloodshed and destruction, but obviously Ari’s brother only cared about his own safety. His lust for power would eventually be the destruction of him. I hoped I survived long enough to see it happen.

As I cut through a demon lord and three of his loyalists, I checked on the battle raging around me. The witches flung magic in every direction, killing or crippling demons long enough for Julian, Valen, and Sacha to finish them off. Taylor and Thibeau never left Nic’s side, and I knew Taylor was busy with his own incantations. A quick glance upward confirmed the fairy was at work—a demon, trapped in a fairy bubble floated through the sky. Once inside the bubble, the only hope for release would be if Taylor granted it. Yeah, the demon needed to get used to his new forever home. Taylor didn’t seem to be the type to forgive and forget, especially not where Nic’s safety was concerned.

Just as another demon lord charged me, I heard Julian roar in fury…or desperation. Valen screamed, “No, Sacha.”

Trying to keep myself alive and still make certain nothing too bad had happened with the vampires, I twisted around to see Sacha’s fangs sunk into the neck of the Incubus that had delivered the message to Ariel’s penthouse. Well, fuck. That was going to be yet another problem to deal with when this was over. Just as I punched my fist through the lord’s chest, yanking the heart out and tossing it onto the ground, I saw Valen rip Sacha away from the Incubus.

Sacha looked destroyed and ready to launch an attack at the very man he loved like a father. Jarsan, for his part, looked rather smug as he stood his ground as Julian raced toward him. Seconds before the vampire and Incubus clashed, gold tendrils were released from Jarsan’s body and began wrapping around Julian. Fuck, the vampires probably couldn’t even see the pheromone manipulation the sex demon was using. As an angel, it was visible to me…and Marchand.

Before I could even move in their direction, Marchand flew through the air and used his wings to slice through the golden tendrils, releasing Julian from the sexual hold. Dammit, but I knew all that training would finally pay off. Instead of allowing Julian to continue trying to attack the Incubus, Marchand lifted him off the ground and deposited him next to Valen and Sacha. Fuck, it was probably going to take both vampires to keep Sacha away from Jarsan. Even from where I was, I could smell the enticing scent the demon was using to try and draw Sacha to him.

Lost in my worry for the vampires, I failed to notice when the final demon lord made an attack on me. Using some sort of holy weapon, he sliced through my right wing, breaking it in several places. I felt myself drop to my knees as the pain lanced through my entire body. Before I could even catch my breath, he did the same with the left wing. The fools—I’d heal faster than they would be able to deliver any type of death blow.

Arrogance in a war…not the smartest ally.

One second—it’s all I would have needed. That second never came, though. Before I could defend myself, Marchand flew through the air toward me, ready to attack the demon lord. Like me, his focus was no longer on the battlefield, but focused on one aspect of it only. He never saw Tantrumonious make a move…never knew anything until the demon royal snatched him from the air and placed an angel blade against his heart. An angel blade—one of the few heavenly weapons able to destroy an angel. A weapon the bastard shouldn’t even have his claws on.

“Don’t.” I roared. The magic around me stopped as Gabriel called his brothers down, unwilling to risk Marchand being harmed.

The field grew quiet as a huge smile spread across Tantrum’s face as he sensed victory was only minutes away. Marchand’s eyes were wide—an apology sent in my direction and a silent declaration of love to Gabriel and Julian. The only noise to be heard was a continuous growl rumbling from both Julian and Valen. Jarsan, the Incubus, strayed away from his master but watched the events unfold with cold eyes.

“What shall it be, angel? You or the pet? Since my cowardly brother didn’t bother showing up, someone must pay with their life.” While holding Marchand immobile, he pulled my feather from a pouch that hung at his side. It was a darker shade than they were now, but they’d been that way when I’d given it to Ariel. I’d been younger, recently fallen and, clearly, stupid.

“Of course, I’ll sacrifice my life for my nephew,” I answered. “Release him and I’ll give myself over willingly.” Forfeiting my life for Marchand was an easy decision. Leaving Ariel behind crushed my soul. I took a step toward Tantrum, but a scream of fury cut through the air, giving me pause. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Noooooo.” Ariel roared.

I turned in time to see him drop to his knee and then smash his fist into the ground. His lips moved with words I couldn’t hear but I didn’t need to—magic shook the earth where his fist had made contact. The sorcery moved across the Pits, racing toward where Tantrum held Marchand captive…the angel’s blade mere inches from him. He didn’t have time to react, though. Fuck, he didn’t have time to do anything. As soon as the magic hit the ground where he stood, the royal demon exploded into a bloody mist. Marchand had been wrapped in the demon’s embrace, but he remained unharmed. Terrified, but unharmed. Covered from head to toe in demon-gut-mist, but unharmed.

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