“Nice scar,” I said.
Gabriel gave an almost inaudible sigh next to me.
Azazel’s mouth tightened. “One day someone will teach you to respect your betters.”
“You’re not better than me,” I said. “And this scumbag is definitely not. Now, we’re taking Nathaniel, and you can either cooperate, or you can suffer the consequences.”
I really had to stop throwing the gauntlet down in front of these immortals.
“Guards!” Azazel roared.
There was a flurry of activity from the sides of the room. Several of the partygoers jammed toward the exit. Everyone in my group quickly turned around so that we formed a loose circle, back-to-back.
“I thought we were going to try to limit casualties,” J.B. said. “Why do you have to provoke everyone you meet, Maddy?”
Azazel smirked as about three dozen soldier-angels surrounded us.
“Now, what was that about suffering the consequences?” Azazel said to me, and then addressed his guards. “Take the thrall first. Whoever kills him will be rewarded.”
“Apparently you haven’t learned your lesson,” I said to Azazel. “I’ll raze the whole building before I let you harm my husband.”
“She will, too,” Beezle said from inside my jacket. “Do not underestimate Maddy’s ability to destroy real estate.”
The soldiers inched closer. A winding coil of tension built in my stomach. No one wanted to make the first move.
I was heartily sick of fighting. I’d done more than enough of it in the past week to last me until the end of my days. But I would not allow Nathaniel to roam free, and I would not let Azazel harm Gabriel. So my options were fight, or surrender.
I don’t surrender well.
I felt the shimmering of magic on the air that meant that Jude and Wade had turned into wolves. I didn’t turn to look behind me, but kept my eyes on Azazel and Nathaniel. The others would take care of the soldiers. These two were mine.
To my left, one of the soldiers feinted forward with a blade that looked like it was made of lightning bolts. J.B. blasted the guy with his stave, something red and sizzling.
And just like that, it had begun.
I moved forward to engage Azazel for the second time, but Nathaniel stepped in front of my father, blocking my sword with a blade of his own. Azazel perched on the edge of his throne like a child enjoying an entertainment prepared just for him.
“Fine,” I snarled. “You’re the one I came for, anyway.”
I thrust upward, aiming for his throat. He deftly parried the stroke and swung back at me, lightning-quick. I barely had time to block him before he attacked again.
I had two distinct disadvantages. One was that Nathaniel was a little more than a foot taller than me, and thus his reach was longer. He could slash at me all day long and effectively keep me blocked from reaching him.
The second disadvantage was that I was only half-angel, and Nathaniel didn’t have my mortal weaknesses. I would tire a lot quicker than he would, so the faster I took care of him, the better.
Even with the unnatural boost that I got from Lucifer’s tattoo, I was a far inferior swordswoman. Nathaniel slashed and parried with the elegance of a dancer. I could feel my anger rising as sweat dripped in my eyes and made my fingers slick on the hilt of the sword. He was toying with me.
Well, there was no law that said I had to play fair.
Nathaniel obviously expected me to fight him sword to sword. He didn’t expect me to blast him in the face with nightfire.
He threw up his arms and flew backward, landing on his butt. Behind me I heard the cries of angels, the howls of the wolves, and the crackle of magic flying everywhere. I couldn’t check to see if everyone was all right. I had to make sure Nathaniel didn’t wriggle off the hook.
I threw nightfire at him again, but he blocked it with the sword and the spell came flying back at me. I ducked, the nightfire singeing my hair. I sincerely hoped I did not have a reverse Mohawk now.
I didn’t wait for him to start generating magic of his own. I pushed the fire spell through my heartstone and sent it singing along Lucifer’s sword so that it focused the fire in a long stream at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel dove out of the way and the fire blasted into some of Azazel’s Baroque furniture.
Beezle poked his head out of the jacket. “I smelled smoke. What are you burning now?”
“Stay down!”
I shoved him back inside as Nathaniel loosed a fiery ball of what looked like lava at me. I ducked to the side, but not quick enough to keep the stuff from grazing my shoulder. My jacket ignited from the heat. Rather than mess around with a flaming coat I tore it off, shouting at Beezle.
“Get out, get out!”
“Stay down, get out—choose, why don’t you?” he shouted back.
Beezle clung to my T-shirt as I flung the coat away from me and blocked another flaming lava-thing Nathaniel shot at me. The shot hit the sword and bounced off, but the edges of it sprayed back onto my cheeks and chin and I screamed. My face burned where it touched. I could almost feel the skin melting.
To the left of me Gabriel dueled with two soldiers. He was handling them easily, and several more were already on the ground. Jude leapt toward the neck of another soldier. I didn’t stop to see what happened, because Nathaniel was stalking toward me again.
“Get high,” I said to Beezle, and he flew off.
I ran at Nathaniel, sword upraised, attacking furiously. He blocked my blows, but as I grew angrier and angrier it seemed he was having more difficulty keeping me away. His arrogant mask slipped and for the first time there was a trace of alarm in his eyes.
I pressed forward, sensing weakness. Nathaniel stumbled backward. I slipped the blade into an opening and it slid into his shoulder.
There was no time or chance for mercy. I ripped upward with all of my strength, and Nathaniel howled. The cut exposed muscle from his collarbone to the shoulder joint, and blood spread everywhere, staining his white wings. He dropped his own weapon and staggered backward, snarling at me.
“You are hell’s own bitch,” he said, his face white.
“Thanks. I hate you, too,” I said, and blasted him in the face with nightfire.
He fell to the ground, out cold.
“That’s one problem taken care of,” I said.
I nudged his ankle with the toe of my boot to see if he was playing dead. He didn’t move. I picked up his sword, which was a lot longer and heavier than mine and felt significantly less friendly in the hand.
I turned back to the battle to see my little band of brothers finishing off the last of Azazel’s soldiers.
We were bloodied and bruised and burned. Samiel bled from a gash in his forehead. Both wolves had small cuts and burns in their fur. Gabriel looked pretty good except that several of his feathers had been torn from his right wing, giving him a slightly lopsided appearance.
I rubbed my hand over my face, felt the long, tender marks where the lava had burned my skin.
We turned as one toward Azazel’s throne.
He wasn’t there.
17
“THAT SNEAKY COWARD,” I SWORE.
Beezle fluttered down from his vantage point near the ceiling. “He snuck out when it became obvious that you were going to win. He went in there.”
Beezle pointed to a back door behind the throne room. I knew that there was a kind of parlor back there, and doors to other parts of the castle.