Page 114 of Wicked Believer
The blast comes hot and quick.
I hit the ground hard, rolling to try and avoid it, but some of it catches on the edge of my dress shirt, singeing me. A furious snarl tears from my lips, the sound of an animal, not a man, as the smell of my own burning flesh causes me to falter.
Mulberry silk may be the height of luxury, but it isnotthe best choice when it comes to flammability, apparently.
But Uriel’s pathetic char is nothing compared to my hellfire.
“You want to play with fire, Uriel?” I spit blood onto the pavement beside me, steam pouring from my nose. “I’ll show you how infernal true fire can be.”
My shadows swirl around me as they bend to my will and transform me. My limbs and bones instantly rearrange themselves as I grow ten times my human size and become the very serpent they expect of me. I unhinge my jaw, flashing poisonous fangs, my forked tongue hissing, and a stream of hellfire pours from my open maw. Uriel tries to fight fire with fire but fails as I whip him aside with my tail, sending him flying. A large crack forms where he lands at the center of the courtyard.
The nun screams in terror.
Flames ignite across the garden, forcing my siblings to either take to the skies or risk burning.
I shift into my usual form as I throw back my head and let out a deranged cackle. “Is that all you’ve got?” I call out, taunting them. “Why don’t you—”
But it is at thatexactmoment I realize I have made a foolish error.
And taken my eyes off Michael.
He plunges his sword through my back as I sputter, the blade protruding from my middle, so that when I look down, I recognize the sight of my blood on its tip.
Blood rushes from my face as I sway slightly. “I should’ve expected such a cheap shot from you, brother,” I rasp, “but then again, you learned your dirty tricks from the best, didn’t you?”
Michael withdraws his sword, a furious war cry tearing from his lips as I crumple onto the stones before him.
It can’t be helped, really.
I feel Azrael beside me in an instant, though I’m not conscious enough to know if he reveals himself to the others.
“Not yet, Lightbringer,” he whispers to me. “He still has plans for you yet.”
Abruptly, I feel myself hauled up and lifted.
Not by Azrael, but by Raphael.
As he uses his powers to heal me.
I thrash, crying out with the agony of it.
But to me and my siblings, this is nothing more than a bit of celestial horseplay.
I black out and come to seconds later, Michael once again standing over me. “The only thing worse than killing you, Lucy,” he says, “is to make you into one of the humans you used to loathe so thoroughly.”
The temperature inside my body drops, then rises on a swell of fury until my skin starts to steam, searing where my siblings grip me. A guttural rumbling growl that seems to echo from the depths of Hell bursts from my throat, vibrating with a sinister, demonic resonance. “I will make Heaven tremble when I break you, Michael. Your wings willbe nothing but dust in my wrath. I will tear the light from your soul, so that you will know what it means to be nothing.”
It takes Raphael’s and Uriel’s full strength, plus several others, to hold me as I fight and thrash, snarling and biting like a venomous viper unleashed from the pits of Hell, my shadows bolloxed due to the protective shield Raphael cast and Seraph is now reinforcing.
Thiswas Michael’s true purpose in threatening Charlotte, in manipulating the Righteous to carry out his means. To use my love for her against me.
I let out another inhuman roar, my Adam’s apple writhing as Michael extends our Father’s open scroll toward me. “‘Those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent.’” Michael grins. “Revelation 3:19. I would think you’d be familiar with it, Sammael, fallen son of Laodicea. For you there is no praise, no mercy.”
“I will fuck you every day for the rest of eternity,” I snarl, my voice thick with an ancient evil. “For I am legion, and you cannot fight what you cannot see. Take heed, brother. Every whisper in the dark is my voice. Every shadow my hand reaching for you. There will be no escape.”
“Do you want your precious bride to live or not?” Michael roars, the tip of his blade nicking into my skin. “Your little rebellion isn’t just yours anymore, Lucy. I’ll make her feel the weight of your choices. If you will not bow to me, thenshewill.”
But I am bound by my angelic word.
