“What the Hell?” Cayman yelled as the SP swung him to and fro. “Man, I’m going to hurl. I’m going to vomit up that marsala.”
Roth laughed.
“It’s not funny!” he shouted as he swung like a pendulum.
Shaking my head, I stepped forward. “Drop him now!”
The shadow only swung him harder.
“Don’t think that authoritative command worked,” Roth commented.
“Nope.” I sighed. “Put him down! Right now.”
Cayman lifted his hands. “Wait—”
The Shadow Person let go, and Cayman plummeted to the ground like a rock.
Whoops.
The demon twisted at the last second and landed on his feet with a curse. “That was rude.”
The shadow came down like a ball, unfurling to its full height in front of the archway. The thing looked like a combination of black smoke and shadow with the exception of its eyes. They were bloodred, like burning coals.
I tapped into my grace and let it out. The corners of my vision turned white as the whitish-gold fire swirled down my arm, flowing to my hand. Against my palm, the handle that formed was a familiar comfort. The blade erupted from sparks and flames.
The shadow rushed me. I stepped forward, slicing through the midsection of the demonic essence. The shadow folded into itself, collapsing into nothing but wisps of smoke, obliterated for all eternity.
A scratching, scurrying noise like tiny claws rushing over stone drew my gaze back to the tunnel. The shadows in there pulsed and shifted—
Tiny ratlike creatures poured out. Dozens of them, rushing toward us on hind legs, their snouts sniffing at the air.
“LUDs!” Roth exclaimed. “These are LUDs.”
I could’ve gone my entire life without ever seeing them. They really did look like miniature Ravers.
Then the darkness from the tunnel shifted once more. Thick inky tendrils licked out over the earthen walls and seeped across the dirt-packed floor like oil. The mass pulled away and then exploded into a horde of Shadow People pouring into the cavern.
“Holy smokes.” I lifted the sword. “You guys take care of the LUDs and I’ll get these creepy things.”
“Deal.” Roth kicked one of the LUDs, sending it flying into the opposite wall.
I caught the first shadow at the shoulders and had spun and jabbed the sword into the midsection of a second before the first had even evaporated. I straightened, swinging the sword through the shoulders of another. Sweat dampened my brow within seconds. It was like playing Whac-a-Mole. Another replaced the one cut down.
“Dammit,” Roth growled as he tossed a dead LUD aside. “Nightcrawlers.”
I spared a quick glance at the tunnel the shadows had come from. There were many, all of them a bulky, monstrous mass of swirling skin the color of moonstone, horns, and teeth and claws that carried a toxic venom that could paralyze an elephant.
A shadow grabbed my left arm, its touch burning. Swallowing a yelp, I jumped back and brought the sword down. Surrounded, I could only hope that Roth and Cayman could handle the Nightcrawlers until I got to them.
I cleaved through the shadows, knowing the sooner I ended their existence the better. The circle decreased by half, and beyond them I saw Roth and Cayman, now in their demonic forms, their skins like polished onyx and wings as wide as they were tall. For a moment, I was caught by the striking similarity in appearance between Wardens and Upper Level demons—both appeared as if they could’ve been descendants of angels.
Twisting, I took down another shadow with a quick slice just as one of the Nightcrawlers swiped out, nearly catching Cayman along the back as he faced off with another.
I cursed as I darted forward, jumping over one of those damn LUDs. My approach wasn’t stealthy. The demon spun toward me and clawed at my head. I dipped low and then sprang up behind the Nightcrawler, drawing the sword up with me. The fire cut through bone and tissue like it was paper. The demon erupted into flames, leaving behind nothing but ash.
“Thanks,” Cayman gasped, snapping the neck of another Nightcrawler.
I nodded as I rushed toward a Shadow Person creeping up behind Roth. As I lifted my sword, I felt coldness dance along my neck and settle between my shoulders.
“He’s here!” I yelled, taking down the shadow.
And then there he was, strolling out of the tunnel like he was taking a walk in the park, his white-blond hair a stark contrast against the gloom.
“Bambi!” Roth shouted, calling for his familiar. “Off!”
Nothing happened.
Sulien chuckled as he strode forward. “You’ll find that the wards will prevent your familiars from making an appearance.”
Hell.
That was unforeseen, but I didn’t have the time to dwell on that development. I lowered my sword, standing with my feet shoulder width apart. “Nice of you to join us.”
“I like to make an entrance.” His grace roared to life as Cayman started toward him, the deadly spear sparking white fire tinged in blue. He pointed it at Cayman’s chest. “I would not take one more step.”
“Back off, Cayman.” I started forward. “I got this.”
For a moment, I didn’t think Cayman was going to listen, but he lifted off the ground, snatching up a LUD and throwing it like a beanbag at a nearby Nightcrawler.
“Are you sure you got this, darlin’?” Sulien asked.
“What did I tell you about calling me that? And yeah,” I said, stepping back and slicing through the Shadow Person that appeared in my central vision. “I got this.”
“You’re right where I wanted you, though,” Sulien said. “Did you think about that?”
The final Shadow Person went up in a ripple of smoke. “Are you just going to stand there?” I demanded of Sulien. “Afraid to fight?”
“No.” He dipped his chin as he crossed his chest with the spear. “I’m waiting.”
Taking shallow breaths, l gave the cavern a quick scan. I saw no more Shadow People or Nightcrawlers. There were still a few LUDs running around and chattering. “Waiting for—”
A horn blared, the sound so deafening and otherworldly I knew it could be the sign of only one thing.
“Roth! Cayman!” I shouted. “Get out of here. Now!”
The two demons froze as the remaining LUDs scattered toward the tunnels. Pinpricks of light appeared, like stars coming out for the night. They grew and spread rapidly, connecting. Golden-white light flashed across the ceiling, charging the air with power and momentarily blinding me. I stumbled back as it pulsed and pulled away from the ceiling. Iridescent light dripped and sparked, forming a funnel of dazzling brightness. My grace throbbed in response to the heavenly glow.
Holy crap.
An angel was coming, and it wouldn’t matter that Roth and Cayman were on Team Stop the End of the World.
“Too late.” Sulien laughed, his spear collapsing into ash. “Unless they want to reenact what happens when insects fly into bug zappers.”
Refocusing on Sulien, I lifted the sword. “You’re in so much trouble now.”
“You think?” he asked, and lifted a brow.
My step faltered as I prepared to strike him. His actions didn’t make sense. He’d reined back his grace, and why would he do that when an angel was coming? Angels could be jerks, but they were good, and Sulien was obviously—
The floor rattled and the walls shook. The entire world seemed to tremble. Stacked rocks toppled and hit the packed dirt. Roth rose, his wings spinning him out of the path. He came back down a few feet behind me as Cayman remained crouched, amber eyes glowing like coals.
The trumpet sounded once more, causing my brain to feel like it was bouncing around in my skull. I lost my grasp on my grace and my sword collapsed.
In the center of the light, the form of a man took shape. He was tall, nearly seven feet, and as he stepped out of the column, I saw that he wore billowing white pants, his chest bare and skin so luminous and ever shifting, he was neither white nor brown and yet somehow every shade in existence. Just like my father.
But this was not my father.
That much I knew.
He strode forward, his back to the stone archway and the churning static-filled center. From the amount of power he was throwing off, he was definitely an archangel.
Sulien didn’t cower or run. He remained where he stood.
Waiting.
“What an entrance,” Roth murmured. “Wonder what he’s compensating for.”
The archangel lifted his hand and flicked his wrist, and then Roth and Cayman were both suspended like an invisible hand had snatched them up. They flew through the air and crashed into the rocks and boulders. Both went down, shifting in and out of their forms, landing in the mess of rocks, arms and legs strewn at awkward angles.
Oh God, they didn’t move.
My head snapped toward the archangel as he came to stand behind Sulien, placing his hand on the Trueborn’s shoulder.
“My son,” he spoke, his voice soft and warm, as if it were full of sunlight. “What have you brought me?”
“The blood of Michael.” Sulien smirked. “And two demons. They were unexpected.”
A dawning sense of horror woke inside me as the archangel turned his head toward me, eyes pure orbs of white. He stepped around the Trueborn—around his son—his lip curling on one side as he looked me up and down.
“The child of Michael,” he spoke. “I was expecting someone more...impressive.”