Page 14 of Wicked Savior
Instead, the moment is here, now, way ahead of schedule. I sway with the impact this thought has on me. The chance to annihilate my biggest opponent is within my grasp, The burning need to rid the world of this sham of a protector is overwhelming.
A thin line of blood appears across his cheek, and his eyes widen in understanding.
I can’t help but laugh. So close. He thought he was fighting Lucifer, the archangel he knew thousands of years ago, not Lucifer, Ruler of the Underworld.
“Wow, how the mighty have fallen,” I sneer, deliberately poking the beast I sense beneath his urbane exterior. Once, he’d been significantly higher in rank and power than me. I’d worshipped and feared him in equal measure. Not anymore.
“Don’t you have better things to do than interfere in earthly matters?” he asks, his mouth twisted in disdain.
Stepping back, I hold my arms wide and laugh. “Everything here concerns me. These people are mine. They feed my power. Let me repeat that phrase.My power.I don’t have to borrow it like a servant. It’s mine to wield.” I smirk. “Gain any of your own power yet or still abusing the power youborrowfrom your lord?”
He steps forward to strike while my arms are out, but I bring them together with a clap of power and push him back.
A glow begins to emanate from beneath his suit, a sign of his control slipping. “I remain a humble servant.” A snide smile appears. “In Heaven. You remember that place, don’t you? Or has evil wiped all the memories away?”
Touché.
A few shadows slip from my control and slither on the ground under my feet. “Those who are stuck in the past are doomed to repeat it. Evil,” I repeat with a snort. “Get with the times. The world isn’t only a construct of good and evil, and my power doesn’t rely solely on sins like murder and mayhem. No, most of my power comes from something more divine.”
His brows come together in a fierce frown at the use of the word divine, as if he’s the only one who has the right to use it.
“The one thing given to us all—free will,” I say with a mock shiver of pleasure. “When humans decide to act without the constraint of necessity or fate, they use free will, and I benefit. Why? Because I choose to do so. Free will is empowering and creates a certain energy and excitement, as if they are doing something naughty, and I feed off it. But I have to admit, it’s even more delicious if it comes from someone powerful, like you or… General Balith. Oh, sorry, was that too soon? I heard he passed recently.”
Golden power spills out, and the suit disappears, leaving only the Archangel Gabriel in all his winged glory. The gleaming sword in his hand swivels in preparation for his strike.
Unconcerned, I silently contemplate ending this charade. My mind plays out numerous scenarios, trying to figure out if there’s an option that doesn’t have catastrophic repercussions. But I can’t find a single one.
If I kill Gabriel, a favored archangel, before Armageddon, the retaliation will be brutal. Humans could be wiped from the Earth. Again. Their cries haunt me to this day, and I refuse to stand by and watch that happen again. Not under my reign.
If death isn’t the answer, then what? Forgiveness? I hiss. Never.
A curtain flutters behind him, startling me out of my deliberation. In my eagerness to confront him, I’d lost sight of the original reason we were here.
I was right. Someone high ranking had sent Balith, and two other angels, to kill a human. Gabriel. He’s the one who’s behind all the secret assignments and subterfuge. But why? Who is this female, and why is she such a threat?
I gesture to the sword in his hand. “You know that won’t kill me. Might hurt a bit… if you can land a blow. While you’ve been doling out assignments from above, some of us have been fighting for a living.”
He steps forward with a taunting grin on his face. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
“Oh, did you suddenly gain the power to kill an angel? Because regardless of what I have become, at the core, I’m still an angel,” I remind him, striking a blow to his ego and following it with a right cross across his cheek. The satisfying crunch is music to my ears.
The power to kill an angel will never be offered to him. An angel is either born with the power to kill another or not. In addition, those born with the power are eternal, not immortal, which means he can be killed. I cannot. If this body is destroyed, I can simply find another, but my power and spirit live on. And if I needed proof, all I have to do is look at Vargas.
Angry, he strikes, power whipping across the divide.
Curious about its strength, I deliberately step into it. Pure power slams into me. Racing along my core, it searches for a weakness to exploit, a path to my destruction, but it finds nothing. My body sways. The damage to my body and power is extensive, but not enough to take me down. It finally dissipates. The wells of my power replenish themselves quickly, healing me in the process.
An uneasy expression slides across his face. I guess he never thought the power I gained ruling the Underworld would match the power of a god.
He widens his stance and raises his sword, readying himself to meet my counterattack. I laugh when my power shoots up from the ground, wrapping him in shadows and sin, the latter feeding off the light in his soul.
He grunts. Seconds go by. A golden fist suddenly punches through the dark barrier, once, twice, then again and again until he’s free. Whirling toward me, his muscles tense as he prepares to launch himself at me.
Before this can become a battle to the death, I hold up a hand. “Stop. We’re even. In more ways than one. You can’t kill me, and unfortunately, I can’t kill you either. If I did, it could bring about Armageddon, which is something I’m not willing to chance. At least not today.”
Something dark twists the lines of his face, and he shudders. “Me either.”
The stiffness of his reply tells me he watched the flood too.
