Page 6 of Camael
"That's not ominous at all," Malachi muttered before checking the edge on a blade that gleamed with divine light.
Rami spread a map across the table. "St. Louis Cemetery is the oldest in the city. It makes sense they'd pick it for whatever cosmic horror show they're planning."
"They'll have guards," Az pointed out. His wings twitched with battle readiness. "Lots of them." It was claustrophobic with so many wings crowding the room. Even with them folded against their backs.
Camael's smile made Amelia shudder. It wasn’t the sexy smirk he reserved for her. "Good."
Amelia barely heard the tactical discussion that followed. Her magical senses were screaming now. She was pickingup disturbances that felt like nails on the cosmic chalkboard. The wrongness was spreading. It was beginning to corrupt the natural flow of power through the city. Underneath it all was a pull. A call that sang to something deep in her blood.
"They've started," she announced. Her words cut through the discussion. "Whatever ritual they're doing is already in motion."
All eyes turned to her. Camael stepped closer. His presence was both steadying and electrifying. "What are you picking up?"
"It's like..." She searched for words to describe the indescribable. "Imagine reality is fabric. They're pulling on threads that shouldn't be touched. They're creating holes where something else can peek through."
"It should stay buried," Cassiel interjected. His eyes were now glowing solid gold. "The Oldest Ones stir in their prison of stars and shadow."
A shiver ran through Amelia as his words resonated with something in her magical core. "There's more. They're doing more than just trying to wake these things up. They're trying to bind them. Control them."
"Ambitious," Rami noted dryly. "Stupid, but ambitious."
"How much time do we have?" Camael demanded.
Amelia reached out with her power and tried to gauge the ritual's progress. The feedback nearly brought her to her knees. Images flashed through her mind. Stars went dark. Reality began unraveling at the seams. And something vast and ancient turned its attention to their tiny corner of existence.
"Not long," she managed through gritted teeth. "An hour. Maybe less."
"Then we move now." Camael's voice carried the weight of divine authority. "Jo, Az. You're our eyes in the sky. Maland Zach, you’re on perimeter control. Rami, you're with me and Amelia. The rest of you know your positions."
The angels moved with practiced efficiency. Weapons appeared, and battle armor materialized. But before they could head out, Cassiel grabbed Amelia's arm. "The stars remember," he said in a voice echoing with power. "When the First Light split the darkness, your line was there. Bearer of both shadow and flame. Walker between worlds. You are more than you know." Well, that was new.
"Cass?" Rami stepped forward. "You okay there, brother?"
But the seer's grip on Amelia's arm tightened. "The blood of stars runs in your veins, witch. The Oldest Ones know this. They fear it. That's why they send their servants for you. You are a key forged before..."
Power surged between them. Suddenly, Amelia wasn't in the mansion anymore. She was floating in a void of stars and darkness. She watched as beings of pure light and pure shadow waged war. And there, in the midst of it all, was a figure wielding both energies. She was weaving them together to create... The vision shattered as Camael yanked her back. He broke Cassiel's grip. "Enough."
His interference came a little too late. The knowledge was already burning in Amelia's mind. It was reshaping everything she thought she knew about herself. Her family line was there at the beginning. They'd helped forge the barriers between light and shadow. They put up the veils between the Earth and what lay beyond it.
"Well, shit," she breathed as she steadied herself against Camael's solid frame. "That explains a few things."
"You okay?" His voice rumbled through her where they touched.
"Define okay," she muttered while she straightened and let her power settle. "We can unpack my cosmic family drama later. Right now, we've got bigger problems."
As if to emphasize her point, another wave of evil rolled through the city. "Move out," Camael ordered. The Angels of Retribution vanished in a flutter of wings and divine light.
The cemetery materialized around them. Old stones and older magic created a maze of shadows and power. But something was wrong with the familiar necropolis’ energy. The usual whispers of the dead had gone silent. They’d been replaced by something that made Amelia's magical senses recoil.
"There." She pointed to where dark energy writhed around one of the oldest mausoleums. "They're using the tomb as a focal point. It’s smart. All that death energy amplifies their ritual."
Demons lurked in the shadows. Their red eyes gleamed as they spotted the celestial invasion. But these weren't your standard-issue Hellspawn. These were older and darker. They carried traces of the power she sensed in Cassiel’s vision.
"Anyone else missing regular demons right about now?" Malachi muttered as the creatures emerged.
The battle erupted like someone had popped the cork on Hell's finest vintage of ass-kicking. Jo and Az took to the sky. Their wings cast moonlit shadows as they rained celestial steel on anything ugly. One particularly nasty piece of work, seriously, it was all tentacles and teeth, caught Az's blade right through what might have been a face. It exploded into goo that would've given Lovecraft nightmares.
Mal and Rami worked the ground game. They moved like twin dealers of divine destruction. When three ancient horrors sporting more eyes than a spider convention rushed them, the warriors didn't even break stride. They fought seamlessly. Before she knew it, there were a lot fewer eyes in the cemetery.
