“He just does it because he loves you,” Kiren said.
“I know, but it gets annoying.”
Chris said, “I do it sometimes, too, because I’m expected to act tough and macho, but—”
“You’re really just a big softie inside,” Taylor finished. “I know, I know, you’ve said it before. What’s your point?”
“My point is that I think Sam tries to act tough sometimes when I’m forced to put myself in dangerous situations. I’d like to know how she’s really feeling.”
Taylor said, “She’s so scared she might pee herself. That’s the truth. Now don’t think about it or you’re not gonna be able to do what you need to do.”
Chris laughed. “You have a way with words, Taylor.”
Something caught Taylor’s eye. Turning her head to the left sharply, she discovered it was actually someone. An angel, given away by his dull glow, picked his way along the mountainside. No, not just one angel, four. Three glowing figures trailed behind the first, moving silently across the wooded slopes. Unless they happened to look up they wouldn’t see their watchers.
Taylor whispered, “We’ve got company,” and pointed below. Chris and Kiren peered through the branches.
Chris hissed, “The New Archangels: Johanna, Sarah, Percy, and—”
“David,” Taylor said. Suddenly she was glad that Gabriel wasn’t on the mission with them. While he knew his brother was dangerous, he also desperately wanted to talk to him, to reason with him, to make him understand. If he were here, he might try something stupid. And today needed to be a stupid-free day.
“They’re setting up surveillance, too,” Chris said. “I’m glad we got here earlier.”
Taylor nodded. “They’re missing Lucas and Cassandra,” she noted.
Kiren said, “Maybe Dionysus doesn’t trust them after the last time. Lucas nearly got killed and Cassandra was captured.”
Chris shook his head. “They’re too powerful to leave behind. If they’re alive, they’ll be here.”
Taylor felt her fists squeeze tight. She almost hoped they would show up.
Chapter Forty-Two
Organizing a thousand angels had taken several hours and by the time they had finished, dawn was rising in the east. Not that they could tell—the hall had no windows or skylights.
Gabriel was satisfied with the plans that had been made. Two hundred angels had volunteered for city watch. They would disperse throughout the most densely populated areas of New York City, creating city protection units, or CPUs, communicating by cell phone in the event that one of the New Archangels began attacking humans again. In the short-term, Gabriel hoped they could prevent any further deaths until a more structured system could be developed.
Sampson would travel by teleport with a convoy of angel leaders—including Martin—to spread the truth about what Dionysus had really been planning. They would hit the five cities with the highest angel populations. Assuming the cooperation of the members of each local angel Council, CPUs would be set up in each city, and the remaining angels, if willing, would be sent to the Lair to join the demon army. Gabriel, and the approximately 800 other New York angels, would go immediately to the Lair to begin mustering for the battle scheduled for that night.
Gabriel yawned as weariness hit him. He rubbed his eyes and then blinked a few times to keep them open. “Surely the leader of the rebellion doesn’t get tired,” Sampson said, approaching him from the side.
“I’m just the messenger,” Gabriel said. “And messengers get tired.”
Sampson clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you are, well done. You’re a great leader.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, man. The way you spoke was impressive, but don’t let it go to your head. Honestly though, I’m not sure either of us could have done it without Jason showing up at the last minute with the horrible news.”
Martin joined the conversation. He said, “Dionysus didn’t realize that his little human killing mission would help to start a rebellion.”
Gabriel shook his head. He was still shocked that it was his brother who had done the killing. It was all over the news: radio, television, and print. The public had been advised by local police to travel in groups in well-lit areas and to keep doors locked at all times. Luckily, no other reporters—other than Jason—had been able to capture David flying away from the crime scenes. Jason wouldn’t submit the pictures to the Times, although several witnesses had claimed to have seen a winged man soaring through the air. None were being taken seriously yet by police, as each of their stories were quite different and ranged from little green men from Mars to masked and caped superheroes. The word angel hadn’t been used by anyone yet, although serial killer had been used several times.
“When do you leave?” Gabriel asked Martin.
“In a few minutes. At Robert’s request, one of your demon friends is doing a few practice teleports so the leaders can get a feel for it before they’re taken halfway around the world in the blink of an eye.”
Gabriel laughed. It was bizarre to see demons walking amongst the throngs of angels. He had found out that the house-like angel that had been their biggest opponent during the meeting was named Robert, and that since seeing the photographs he had become their staunchest supporter. He would be going with Martin to convince others to support the cause.
Sampson said, “We’ll move from city to city as quickly as possible so we can get back in time for the battle tonight.”
“Okay,” Gabriel said. “Speaking of which, I should get going to arrange things on the demon side.”
Gabriel shook both of his friends’ hands, holding Martin’s for an extra second as he said, “Thank you, Martin. Your help will save many lives today.”
Martin just nodded, but the emotion in his eyes conveyed far more meaning than words ever could. Respect, admiration, brotherhood, truth, and light were all reflected in his dark pupils.
Gabriel turned and looked for the demon who would be coordinating the teleports to the Lair. He spotted the dark, mohawked guy chatting with two female demons. Gabriel had heard he was quite the ladies’ man. “Jeremy, are you ready to start?” Gabriel said.
“Sure, boss,” he said, winking at one of the demons, who immediately blushed.
“You don’t have to call me boss,” Gabriel said.
“Okay, boss,” Jeremy said. The other female demon laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
Gabriel said, “What’s the best way to approach this, a mass teleport?”
“Bad idea, boss. You see, while it can be done, there is a high risk of something logistical going wrong on the other end. The last thing you want are 800 angels appearing in the wrong place in the Lair. There would be mass panic, with demons thinking they were under attack.”
“Okay, then how do we do it?”
Jeremy ran one hand over his mohawk while playing with his earing with his other hand. “I propose using the standard method, via the teleport room. The room can only fit 20 bodies at a time, plus the escort, so that’s 40 trips. But if we organize things well on the receiving end, we can get each group out of the room and into the tunnel in less than a minute, so we should be able to transport everyone in less than an hour.”
“Okay,” Gabriel said. “Let’s do it.”
“Righteous,” Jeremy said.
Gabriel went first, with Jeremy and a few other demons. Two seconds later, they arrived thousands of miles away, deep inside the Lair.
Gabriel said, “Recruit as many angels and demons as you can to welcome the incoming angels to the Lair. Take all of them to get food first and then to the armory. I will address them after they have been fitted for armor and armed.”
“Will do, boss,” Jeremy said.
With the arrangements made, Gabriel took off down the hall, reaching the outer security door a second later. The door opened for him and he entered. The five minute transporter ride felt slow. Gabriel was eager to see Taylor, to tell her th
e good news.
Exiting the transporter, Gabriel’s heart jumped slightly in his chest. He was as giddy as a school boy and suddenly he felt ridiculous. “What is wrong with you?” he said to himself. He had only been apart from Taylor for a day and yet he was acting like he had gone off to war months ago. Speaking to himself once more, he said, “Get a grip on yourself, man.”
He stopped to take a deep breath. His heart stopped wobbling around in his chest. Good, he thought. First he checked the room she usually stayed in when she was visiting the Lair. Knock, knock. No answer. Next he went to Sam’s room but she wasn’t there either. Pool hall, demon café, gargoyle paddocks: no, no, no.
Finally, Gabriel caught a transporter to the Elders’ wing, to which he had full access. Clifford’s office door was open so he walked in, rapping lightly on the door as he passed it.
The old demon looked up from beneath dark, bushy eyebrows, his black eyes speckled with the reflecting light from the lit candles that lined the walls.
“Gabriel! Welcome back,” Clifford said warmly. “And congratulations are in order I believe.”
Gabriel smiled and said, “I had a lot of help. Sampson, Martin, my mother, and….” Gabriel’s smile dissipated.
“And evil,” Clifford finished. “You can only control what you can control, Gabriel. If the whole universe bent to your will this would have been over long, long ago, for better or for worse.”
Gabriel said, “I want to build my anger, harness it, use it to fight….But I can’t. I can’t. Whenever I do, I just get sad. He was….is so young.” Gabriel realized his fists were clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles white from the tension. They were beginning to ache. He saw Clifford’s eyes flick to his fists and then back to his face.
“Those fists look pretty angry,” Clifford said.
“Yes, but not at my brother. At Dionysus, Lucas, whoever else was involved in corrupting him.” Suddenly remembering why he had come, Gabriel said, “Taylor—where is she?”
“On her mission.”
“But I thought it was scheduled for tonight, I was hoping to see her.”
“Early surveillance. Don’t worry, she’s with Chris and Kiren.”
“I’m not worried, I just wanted to wish her luck.” Gabriel was tempted to request to be included on her mission, but held his tongue. He already knew the response he would get and wasn’t in the mood to hear Clifford talk about legends and rebellions and the chosen one. He was just a damn angel. An angel who had done a lot of stupid things. No one special.
Clifford said, “You can go with her if you want.”
Gabriel’s head spun. That was the last thing he expected to hear come out of Clifford’s mouth. Go with her. It sounded so good. He looked at his hands, trying to understand. His eyes snapped back to Clifford’s. The old demon’s eyes were sparkling—tongues of flame danced across the obsidian orbs. Except this time it wasn’t from the reflection of the candles. His eyes were actually engulfed in real flames. Gabriel jumped back in his chair and teetered for a moment, before grabbing the desk in front of him to prevent himself from falling backwards.
“Ho ho ho,” Clifford laughed, as his eyes returned to normal. “I haven’t used that party trick in a long time considering all of my parties are with demons who would think nothing of it.”
Gabriel stared at the old man like he was crazy. He had never seen this side of him. “You’re in a good mood,” Gabriel said.
“And why shouldn’t I be? Tonight we end the War.”
Clifford’s words were so honest, so determined, so matter-of-fact, that Gabriel couldn’t help thinking they must be true, like the old demon had been blessed with clairvoyance.
Despite every bone, tendon, and muscle in his body shuddering with excitement at the prospect of accompanying Taylor on her mission, Gabriel found himself saying, “I’ll lead the army. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
Clifford laughed again, deep and throaty. “You already know what I think. You have your orders. Go, Gabriel. Meet your destiny.”
Gabriel stood and left. The word destiny rang through his ears and he tried to block it out, but couldn’t. He couldn’t ignore the authority behind Clifford’s words. It felt like Clifford had become the master of the universe, and he a puppet, certain to perform exactly as Clifford desired him to. It was comforting, in a way. Like he couldn’t fail, even if he did something stupid. To his surprise, he swelled with courage, with confidence, with determination.
He would lead the first ever full angel-demon army. And he would be victorious.
Chapter Forty-Three
She couldn’t bear to wait in the Lair so she went back to campus, to her dorm room. Dusk had come and gone and she had stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing. Instead, still-pictures cycled through her mind. None of her visions were from the past, none of them real; rather, they were from a future not yet decided.
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Samantha tried to remember all the good times, tried to conjure up images of true memories, good memories, happy memories. To her frustration, her visions of the future continued their endless cycling.
There was one with Taylor soaring through the air, headed for battle, her helmet shiny and bright. That one was impossible though, the battle would occur at night, no shining, no brightness.
Another showed Chris’s mouth wide open, as he took a blow on the shoulder from an attacking angel. She could almost hear his pained scream torturing the quiet of the night.
Next there was a vision of Gabriel, hopelessly outnumbered and clanging swords with three angels simultaneously.
Stop, stop, stop, “Stop!” she finally yelled. Unintentionally, her thoughts had spilled from her mouth, breaking free of her skull. “It will be okay,” she said to herself. She checked the clock: Eight o’clock, four hours to go.
Unable to wait any longer, Sam left, looking for a distraction. She was vaguely aware of the dark shapes that followed her across campus—her loyal protectors. She worried that if they were protecting her, they couldn’t be helping to fight in the battle. She was having trouble breathing, trouble thinking clearly: the effects of anxiety, stress. Desperately, she searched for a distraction.
Moving past the library, she headed for the center of campus. Her mind continued working overtime, and not in a good way. She envisioned Chris bleeding, yelling for help, black liquid streaming from his head. Gabriel tried to come to him, but staggered, unable to maintain his balance. He was bleeding too, the bright, white fluid washing over his arms much faster than she thought possible. And then she saw Taylor, her wings hanging uselessly from her back, tattered and mangled. Fighting another angel; losing her sword; pierced by her enemy; collapsing.
“Sam… Sam!”
“Wh…what?” Samantha said, startled out of her trance by a familiar voice. She turned, searching for the source of her name.
First she saw the tall, skinny guy with glasses. The voice had been a girl’s, probably hadn’t come from the guy unless puberty had been particularly unkind to him. Next to him: a tiny girl with no more meat on her than a Chihuahua.
“Marla?” Sam said. “What are you doing here?”
“I go to school here, remember,” Marla said, laughing. “Jenkins does too.”
“Good one, honey,” Jenkins said, squeezing his girlfriend’s hand.
“Right, sorry. I was kind of thinking about something,” Sam explained.
“We called your name about ten times,” Marla said.
“Really? I only heard it twice.”
“Must have been some pretty intense thinking,” Jenkins said.
“Yeah, I guess it was,” Sam said.
Marla eyed her strangely, as if something on Sam’s face was communicating with her. “Hey, do you want to hang out with us tonight? We were thinking of having a pizza and movies night.”
Sam smiled for the first time in hours. Her mouth felt stiff, like it wasn’t used to such a foreign expression. “Actually, Marla, that would be perf
ect,” she said.
Chapter Forty-Four
Thirty minutes to go. Taylor was still in the tree, still with Chris and Kiren, still scoping out the area surrounding the Warrior’s Plateau. She stepped down to a lower branch and stood up, stretching her legs. Everything hurt from a long day spent stationary. Her legs and arms ached, her back was stiff and sore, and her butt throbbed where the thin branch had been pressing up against it.
Earlier, the enemy angel foursome had passed below them and moved a half-mile further down the mountain range, eventually entering a hidden cave situated high above the valley, which would likely provide a good view of the site of the Clifford vs. Dionysus fight. Surely they weren’t there just to watch, like a pay-per-view boxing match. They were there to kill Clifford and to protect Dionysus. A trap, albeit one that was expected. At least they knew where the enemy was, Taylor thought. As far as they knew, their presence remained a secret.
In addition to loosening her knotted muscles and tight joints, Taylor prepared mentally for what lay ahead. No monkeys, she thought. No monkeys, no ice cream, no nutty thoughts about banjos or accordions or harpsichords or harmonicas. Or leaping clowns or dancing leprechauns either. She needed to focus. Tonight she would let her instincts have free reign—to do whatever was required. To make good choices. To make fast choices. To live or die as was necessary for the greater good.
She hoped it turned out to be to live.
Weapons had been selected, armor had been fitted, assignments had been communicated, and introductions had been made. The army was ready. The fact that there had been no major disagreements or fighting between the two races was a testament to the quality and professionalism of the angels and demons involved.
In the large cavern used for mustering the demon forces, Gabriel stood atop a large boulder that had been rolled out for the occasion. His breath caught when he looked out upon the army. There were angels and demons standing alongside each other, some even talking and laughing and joking. Like old friends. Like they had never been enemies. It was something he had wished for when he set out on his mission, but never really expected to happen—at least not fully, not like what he was seeing now.