Page 61 of Rekindled Prophecy

Bile rose in her throat. Olivier was a notoriously evil archangel who took the mere existence of humans as a personal affront to himself and all angels. Rumor had it that he was the one who whispered evil tidings into Lucifer’s ears just prior to theFall. The story was never proven, but it was never disproven either.

“Ever heard of Olivier?” she asked.

A sharp intake of breath heard from the other end of the line affirmed that Thomas had most definitely heard of him. “Apparently, there’s volumes of books on this dude, but I have to say I’m not up to speed on the particulars of fallen angels. But this guy’s name stands out. Seems he has a particularly nasty side when it comes to dealing with guardian angels. There aren’t many ways to kill a guardian angel, but he seems to specialize in it.”

Wow! How’d I get so lucky?

“Wait! How did I miss that?”

“What is it, Sparky?”

Tapping her foot nervously against a pile of broken bricks, she awaited his response. “You know I told you about Kael being photographed with a high-ranking power of Hell?”

The pregnant pause that followed the question left her breathless. A painful knot formed in the pit of her belly.

It was Olivier.Greylyn’s heart stopped.Dammit, Kael!

Dread rose in her very soul at the possibility she would have to confront one of the most heinous fallen archangels in history. If he were in cahoots with Kael, she had just left Kelly defenseless against the enemy.

What had she done? Furious at herself for allowing Kael to worm his way into her good graces to the point she would trust him, an image of driving her dagger into his blackened heart and watching blood ooze out his eyes flickered before her mind.

“I’ve read plenty of tales of encounters with fallen angels. Most of the lore on the subject is false. But this guy …” Thomas’s voice trailed off.

Not wanting to alarm him further, Greylyn calmly thanked him for the information and hung up the phone before he could ask any questions to which she did not want to answer.

The four men looked at her for reassurance. They expected her to have the answers. Sadly, she had none to give them. Even Jasper was at a loss for words, evidenced by the way he chewed on the edge of a fingernail with downcast eyes.

Silently, she paced the cramped alleyway for an agonizing couple of minutes, as she struggled to come up with a solution that did not border on suicide.

This must be what the Spartans felt like before Thermopylae.

Realizing her options were limited if she wanted to keep casualties to a minimum, a plan formed in her mind. Not a good one, but her options were lacking.

This was her mess to clean up. She would not allow the others to pay for her fatal mistake of trusting a dark guardian. Finally determined on a path, the only thing she said before marching off towards the apartment building was, “Wait here. Do nothing.”

Jasper opened his mouth to argue, but one blazing look silenced him.

If Jasper did something stupid – of course, he would do something stupid–the whole situation could easily blow up in their faces. The residents of DC could wake up to the equivalent of the aftermath of an atomic bomb going off in the middle of their city.

“Please, Jasper,” Greylyn prayed, “do as I say, not as I do. Stay put.” Telepathically, she begged him, “If I don’t make it back, hurry to the inn and make sure everyone is okay.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing, Greylyn?”

As a precaution, she quickly chanted an imprisonment spell to keep them locked safely behind the deli. It would not hold long, but she hoped long enough for her to do what she had to do. Before Jasper could question or curse her insanity, either by voice or his mind, she shut down all avenues of communication between them.

She detoured through more connecting alleyways to disguise where she had come from. Within minutes, she emerged from the unlit alley immediately in front of the besieged apartment building.

Out in the open, she stood there, completely still, waiting for the demons guarding the building to attack. Her heart hammered so loudly in her ears she was deaf to all else.

Nothing. They did nothing. It was not as if they did not see her. She was in plain sight. A few snarled and growled in her direction, but not one of them moved towards her. If they wanted her, well here she was.

Now that cannot be good.

Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen, but she just could not force herself to breathe. Chewing on her lower lip, she waited. After a few moments and still no reaction from the demon platoon, she marched forward to the building’s front entrance where the giant fallen angel waited with a smug grin.

The demon soldiers moved aside to let her pass without challenge, for the most part. One ugly creature with pointed teeth, looking as if its face was turned inside out, lashed out at her. Without hesitation, Greylyn sliced its arm off at the elbow. The demonic being retreated into the horde with an ear-splitting howl that echoed down the deserted city streets.

Upon closer inspection of the group, it was quite the mixed primordial soup of creatures. How Olivier managed to coerce such a large range of monsters into his own little army surprised even her. Most of these creatures did not get along with each other. Several so-called natural disasters over the years had really been the various clans of monsters going after each other in gangland-style skirmishes. She could not imagine what would unite such a hideous group. The situation must be much bigger than anyone could comprehend to have elicited such a profound turnout of Hell’s most wanted.

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