Page 21 of Camael
"The head!" Jo shouted as she and Az created a distraction on its left flank. "Its armor is weakest at the base of the skull!"
Mal and Zach were already moving. They used the creature's arm as a ramp and raced up it toward the head like they were competing in the world’s most dangerous parkour contest. Their blades struck simultaneously. Both found the weak spot Jo had spotted.
But it was Camael who delivered the killing blow. The archangel dropped from above. His Sword of Light blazedbrighter than a supernova as he drove it straight through the creature's skull and out the other side.
The thing's death scream could've shattered windows in the next parish if Amelia's dome hadn't contained it. It went down like a collapsing building. Its massive body dissolved into ichor that ate holes in their designer grass and probably their rental agreement.
"Well," Jo managed as she surveyed the carnage. "I'm guessing Michael and Raphael aren't going to be happy about needing to bring in troops to remodel."
Abraxos landed silentlyin front of Crescent City Arcane. The bookstore's windows were dark, but he could sense movement inside. More importantly, he could feel the pulse of power coming from within. The place housed texts that made his angelic senses hum with recognition.
The female who owned it, Sarah, was more than just a human occult shopkeeper. He'd seen that during the battle in the Quarter. The way she'd moved. The books she'd protected. She knew things. Important things.
The wards around the building recognized him from earlier. They parted like curtains as he approached the door. The bell above it chimed softly as he entered and announced his presence in the empty shop.
"We're closed!" Sarah's voice carried from the back room. "Unless you're here about earlier, in which case I still have questions."
"I might have answers." He moved through the stacks with predatory grace. He followed her voice and the sweet and salty scent of the beach. He’d barely caught a hint of her natural perfume during the battle.
He wasn’t prepared when she emerged from behind ashelf. His breath caught, and his hormones went haywire. Even disheveled from the chaos, she was stunning. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and her green eyes held intelligence that called to something in his ancient soul.
"The angel with red wings," she said to him as she crossed her arms. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for earlier."
"Abraxos," he supplied, though she hadn't asked. "And you're Sarah Morgan. The witch who maintains the Quarter's oldest occult library."
Her eyebrow rose. "You've done your homework. Although, I’m not really a witch. I’m the family disappointment. I don’t have powers like my mother and grandmother."
"Knowledge is power." He gestured to the shelves around them. "And you have quite a collection of it."
"Is that why you're here?" She moved closer. Damn, if her nearness didn't do things to his concentration. "The books?"
Yes. No. Maybe. The truth was more complicated than that. He wasn't ready to examine it too closely. "Some of these texts are older than human civilization," he said instead. "They need protection, especially now."
"Hence the wards." She tilted her head, studying him with those sharp eyes. "That's not really why you came back, is it?"
No, it wasn't. Before he could respond, the Quarter lit up like Satan's Christmas tree. The Prince of Lies was pulling some next-level fuckery. He was continuing to thread his poison through the city's spiritual DNA like a virus rewriting its host. Where demons and brute force had failed him, this new play was pure psychological warfare. He was trying to change the locks from the inside while also preparing the way for something older than sin itself to waltz right in and make itself at home.
Sarah cursed as she moved to check her wards. "It's getting worse," she muttered. "The darkness is finding new paths. Evil is going to ruin my store."
"Show me." He regretted how the words came out more command than a request, but he couldn’t take it back.
Without a word, she led him to a back room where maps covered one wall. Magical markers showed the spread of Lucifer's influence through the city. The pattern was changing. Becoming more organic and insidious.
"He's learning," she said as she traced one particularly dark line. "And finding ways around our defenses that we didn't think possible."
Abraxos moved closer. He was drawn by both the tactical information and her presence. "The Prince of Lies is adapting his strategy. The question is, why? What is his aim this time?" He had a feeling Sarah's books might hold some answers. Just like he had a feeling this wouldn't be his last visit to Crescent City Arcane.
Sarah lifted her shoulders. “Don’t ask me. I’m nothing more than a simple shopkeeper straddling the line between the Tehrex Realm and the human world.” The female was anything but simple.
"Sounds like we’d better look through the texts you have and see if we can find answers." His voice came out rougher than he intended. Like his throat couldn't quite handle being this close to her. "Something tells me your library's got secrets that would make Heaven's archivists weep with joy."
Sarah's green eyes met his. The intelligence in that gaze hit him harder than celestial steel. It made him think dangerous thoughts about things that had nothing to do with ancient languages or saving the world. He told himself he had to focus on his duty. Heaven's most elite warriors didn't get distracted by females with brilliant minds and the kind of beauty that made his ancient soul sit up and beg. But as she led him deeper into her shop's mysteries? He knew he was lying to himself. Truth was a bitch that way.
CHAPTER 7
Camael took his time walking through the mansion's east wing as he made his way to the training room. His boots were silent on the marble floors, and his shoulders were tight with tension that had nothing to do with the upcoming session. The mansion was quiet except for the faint sounds of the other AORs going about their duties. He could hear Rami and Malachi discussing how to remove demon ichor from marble. They were arguing about the use of something pink. Camael didn’t have the patience for that shit.
His mind kept circling back to Amelia's progress with the artifacts. Every hour, she grew stronger and more confident with powers she discovered less than seventy-two hours before. The way she wove light and shadow together was stunning. It called to something in him that he'd been fighting since the moment they met.
