Page 34 of Camael
"Status report," he growled into his comm as they reached another junction. The salt air carried traces of demon magic that made his sword hand itch to get to work.
"The witches are in position," Rami reported while checking his tactical display. "All witches have the seeds ready. They're just waiting on your signal to begin the cleansing ritual."
"The Rowans are reporting increased demon activity around their positions," Jo's voice cut in from her aerial patrol route. "These bastards know we're up to something."
"Of course they do." Malachi's curse carried across the tactical channel. He was securing the western approach with Az, their wings tucked tight as they moved between containers. "We've got a leak upstairs bigger than Heaven's fountain."
Camael's jaw clenched as he thought about the hours of preparation that had led to this moment. His witch and her crew had created seeds using the Twilight Key that would purge Lucifer's corruption from the ley lines. But timing was everything. One wrong move and they'd lose their shot at saving the city's spiritual foundation.
"Ayil, status report," he barked into the comm.
"In position at the container terminal," the warrior responded. His voice carried the kind of tension that meant trouble was brewing. "I'm picking up Lucifer’s energy signature. We've got at least three hot spots that need immediate attention."
"Confirmed." Araton's voice crackled through. He was working his way through the eastern sector, using the pre-dawn shadows for cover. "Whatever's in these containers, it's not your standard demonic contraband. "
"Define contraband," Camael demanded as he launched himself toward Ayil's position.
"Like someone took Heaven's artifacts and put them through Hell's favorite meat grinder," Abraxos cut in. The warrior had taken point near the river, his red wings allowing him to blend with the sunrise. "The power signatures are corrupted but organized. These aren't random acts of evil. This is a coordinated effort."
"Anyone else wondering how these bastards learned our containment protocols?" Az asked over the comm. "Because they've positioned these containers exactly where we'd have the hardest time reaching them."
"They didn't just learn our protocols," Rami observed as he joined Camael on his approach to Ayil's position. "They'reusing our equipment. The magical signatures I'm picking up? Pure Heaven, but twisted."
"Araton, what's your read on the eastern sector?" Camael demanded.
"Three heavily guarded containers putting out enough dark energy to make a demon lord weep," came the response. "They've got them arranged in a perfect ritual triangle. Someone's been studying our tactical manuals."
"Hold positions," Camael ordered as he landed beside Ayil. The male's red wings were mantled for battle as he gestured to the container before them. "What are we looking at?"
"Bad news with a side of apocalypse," Ayil replied without taking his eyes off the target. "They're modifying the artifacts and turning them into weapons that could corrupt the entire city's magical foundation."
"Abraxos, how's the river looking?"
"Like someone invited Hell's R&D department to set up shop," the warrior reported. "I'm counting at least five more containers that feel wrong. They're using the water to amplify the corruption somehow."
The first wave of demons hit the port like Hell had decided to throw a block party. These weren't the usual ugly bastards Camael was used to putting down. No, these sumbitches smelled and looked like death.
The one that came straight for him had skin like volcanic glass and moved like it had downloaded Jackie Chan’s greatest moves. Its crystalline limbs reflected the pre-dawn light in patterns that would've given Picasso nightmares. Behind it came things that made him question whether reality had decided to take a vacation.
"We need to start NOW!" Amelia's voice carried over the comms with enough panic to make his warrior's heart stop. "The ley lines are mutating. They're turning inside out! If we wait any longer, there won't be anything left to save!"
A howl split the air as more demons emerged from between containers. Three of them went for Rami while another four circled Az like they were running combat drills. "Do it!" Camael ordered as he took a demon's head clean off. Black ichor painted ancient concrete in patterns that smoked on contact.
He felt it the instant the witches began their ritual. Power surged through the port like someone had plugged the city into a magical generator and cranked that shit to eleven. Even the demons felt it. They began to fight in earnest. His blade was already moving, taking a demon's head clean off while his soul recognized Amelia's magic singing through the ley lines.
Three uglies tried to flank him, thinking they had an advantage. Wrong move. His Sword of Light carved through the first one's center mass. He split it like a demonic piñata. The second one caught his blade through what passed for a throat. Black ichor painted the concrete in patterns that smoked on contact. The third one? That sumbitch learned why you don't rush an archangel when he was already pissed off. Camael's wings snapped out as he spun. He used the momentum to drive his blade straight through its skull.
The port had turned into a battleground. Demons were everywhere, crawling over containers. They moved with military precision that made his ancient blood boil. He was busy slicing through carotid arteries when he heard a scream. It cut through the battle noise and straight into his soul. Amelia's pain carried over the comms with enough raw agony to make his vision go red. Everything in him recognized that sound. His mate was in agony, and he was too far away to help.
Two more demons made the mistake of getting betweenhim and the direction of that scream. His blade separated the first one's spine from its body before the thing could even register the attack. The second one tried to block with a stolen weapon. Bad choice. Camael's follow-through turned it into a flaming bag of ass. The entire time his power leaked out in waves cold enough to freeze hellfire.
Nothing else mattered. Not the battle raging around him, not the corrupted artifacts. Not even the fact that someone in Heaven was arming these bastards. His witch was in pain, and that shit wasn't going to stand. "The ley lines are fighting back!" Her voice was tight with the kind of suffering that made his instincts go nuclear. "Something's wrong - AHHHH!"
"Amelia!" The roar ripped from his throat as he launched skyward. His wings cut through humid air fast enough to leave sonic booms in his wake.
He found her on her knees near Jackson Square. Blood ran from her nose and side while power crackled around her in waves that would've killed a lesser being. "What happened?" he asked as he landed beside her hard enough to crack the cobblestones.
"Lucifer-" She broke off with another cry of pain that hit him harder than celestial steel. "He's fighting back. He knows what we're trying to do. He’s trying to force the ley lines to reject the seeds."
