Page 18 of Camael
Before Camael could answer, a burst of red caught his eye. Three streaks of crimson cut through the night sky likebloody comets. For a second, he thought it was some new demonic fuckery. Then he recognized the wings.
"About damn time," he muttered as three angels descended into the fray. Their wings were the color of fresh blood, marking them as members of Heaven's elite warriors.
Araton smirked at Camael and said, “We heard you could use some help.”
Camael shook his head and dropped back to the ground. Amelia immediately resumed fighting but was still able to ask, “Who are they? They aren’t yours.”
"Michael sent backup," Camael explained as they landed. "Meet Heaven's most coordinated killing machine."
"Triplets?" Amelia's eyebrows shot up. "I’ve never seen angels with red wings."
"They’re Michael’s warriors." Camael engaged another demon. His blade cut through the air.
Rami raced by just then, calling out to Izzy. "Get back to Les Auger," he told her. His voice carried an edge of concern that had nothing to do with battle. "Behind the wards. This is about to get uglier."
Izzy's blue eyes met his and carried promises that had nothing to do with war. "Try not to get yourself killed. We’ll take care of the stragglers on our way." She signaled to the other Dark Warriors. They fell back in perfect formation, covering her retreat.
The triplets hit the ground like divine wrecking balls. Araton moved like liquid violence. His celestial blade carved through demon ranks with surgical precision. Every strike was calculated, efficient, and absolutely lethal.
"Clear the perimeter!" his voice carried like a commander's. "Standard formation delta!"
Ayil was pure grace in motion. He danced through the fight like it was choreographed. Where his brother was allprecision, Ayil was artistry. His blade spun and twirled and left trails of crimson energy that turned demons to ash.
"I’ve got movement on the rooflines," he called out. "They're trying to set up crossfire!"
And Abraxos fought like he had a personal grudge against gravity. He went vertical, running up walls and using balconies like springboards. His fighting style was pure improvisation. He made it impossible for the demons to predict his moves.
The battle shifted as the triplet’s presence changed the dynamic. What had been a desperate holding action became something else. Something with actual strategy. The demons found themselves caught between the AOR’s raw power and the triplet’s synchronized assault.
"The east side is secure!" Araton's voice cut through the chaos. His blade left trails of fire as he cleared Decatur Street.
"The west side needs backup," Ayil responded. He moved like a deadly dance through a group of demons that looked like someone had tried to mate porcupines with spiders. "They're trying to circle around through Pirates Alley."
"I've got the high ground," Abraxos called from his position on a balcony. He launched himself into a group of flying demons. His blade carved elegant arcs through corrupted flesh.
They pushed toward Jackson Square, where the darkness seemed thickest. The usual tourist hub had become ground zero for supernatural warfare. St. Louis Cathedral loomed over the battlefield like a silent witness to the carnage. A crash from his left drew Camael’s attention.
A woman burst out of a shop. She was clutching books to her chest like shields. Her dark hair was wild, and her eyes were wide with terror. But she moved with purpose, trying to reach a store across the street. The sign above it read "Crescent City Arcane”.
Abraxos was there before anyone else could move. The male materialized between the woman and an approaching demon. His red wings spread wide. They created a barrier of divine protection. Camael swore something passed between the two, but he couldn’t be sure the look actually carried more weight than a neutron star. It was chaotic around them.
Amelia hesitated and looked over when Abraxos growled, "Inside," to the woman. His voice carried that don't-argue-with-me tone that all warriors had mastered. "Now."
"My store," she protested. "The wards-"
"Will hold," he cut her off as another explosion rocked the Quarter. "Move!"
The woman had to be Sarah, the owner of the occult bookstore Camael had read about before setting up shop in the area. Camael caught sight of her as she ran for cover. He noted that Abraxos watched her go. Something flickered in the male’s ancient eyes that Camael recognized all too well. That was a problem for another night. Right now, they had a city to protect and a Prince of Lies to find and stop.
CHAPTER 6
The mansion's training room had seen better days. Hell, it had seen better hours. Amelia surveyed the destruction around her as she caught her breath. Scorch marks decorated the reinforced walls where her hybrid magic had gone wide. The expensive training mats were toast. Literally. Some were still smoking from her last attempt at merging light and shadow energy.
"Again." Camael's deep voice rolled through the space like thunder. The archangel stood behind her. He was close enough that his heat seeped into her bones. His massive frame was a solid wall of angelic warrior. And his presence did things to her concentration that had nothing to do with magic.
"I’m pretty sure your insurance doesn't cover 'witch loses control of ancient powers’," she muttered as she gathered energy once more. Light danced in her right palm while shadow swirled in her left. The two forces fought like cats in a bag and refused to merge.
"You're still treating them as separate entities." His hands settled on her shoulders. Holy mother of magic. That did nothelp her focus. "They're two halves of the same whole. Like dawn and dusk."
