“Whatever my relationship—or yours, for that matter—to Lucifer, these wolf killings end now. I’m going to make sure that you are brought to justice for this,” I said. “And if Lucifer won’t do it, then I’m sure the wolves will take care of you.”
Baraqiel stalked toward me. “What makes you think I am going to let you take me?”
I sighed. “I didn’t think you would make it easy for me.”
He reached for me again, and I flew upward, dodging away. His missing wing made it impossible for him to give chase once I was above the ground. I focused my power, pushed it through my heartstone, and let loose the blast of sunlight that I had used to kill Ramuell.
A blaze lit up the beach and for a moment it looked like a midsummer’s day. Then the blaze faded, and Baraqiel stood there, laughing at me, his missing wing magically regrown.
“Thank you, cousin,” he said. “That was exactly what I needed.”
Okay. So apparently the sun, which was fatal to Ramuell, made Baraqiel rejuvenate his powers like Superman. Wonderful. Nightfire didn’t work, sunlight didn’t work, and I’d lost the sword. What was I supposed to do, annoy him to death?
He launched from the beach and came after me. I feinted to one side and then flew the other, swooping low over the sand and desperately searching for the sword.
It was then that Baraqiel let loose a magical pulse. As it rippled across me, my wings disappeared, my power flickered out and I fell to the ground.
I rolled over, my mouth and eyes full of sand. I scrabbled desperately at my face, trying to clear my vision. Baraqiel fell upon me, his hands closing around my throat again.
I kicked up and into his crotch with my boot. Yup, that works on pretty much any male, no matter what their species. He yelped and loosened his grip for a moment, which allowed me to push to my feet and sprint down the beach as fast as I could.
I had no magic, but it seemed that Baraqiel didn’t have much in the spell department except for the ability to shapeshift and knock out other creatures’ powers. So at least we were on even footing there.
Of course, he had wings again, and I didn’t, and he was about fifty times as strong as me. So big advantage to Baraqiel.
I heard his wings pulsing behind me, and I picked up speed. It wasn’t easy. Sand is not the fastest surface to run on, especially when you’re wearing combat boots and are totally out of shape.
I tripped over my own feet just as Baraqiel swooped in for the kill. Thank goodness I was the clumsiest thing going.
Lucifer’s sword glittered in the sand right under my nose.
I grabbed it and pushed up to my knees as Baraqiel made another turn. His silver blue eyes were alight with murder and madness. I let my sword hand hang at my side and allowed him to carry me into the air, his hands closing around my neck.
I didn’t struggle against him, but I lifted the sword and ran it through his chest. I felt his heartstone give under the blade, and for the second time that night there was a gigantic explosion of light.
I held tight to the sword as Baraqiel’s hands went limp and he dropped me into the sand again. I was lucky I didn’t land on the blade. I jumped to my feet immediately and ran back to where his body lay in the sand, bluish black blood pumping out from the hole in his chest.
He glared up at me, his face both angry and resigned. “I cannot believe that Lucifer’s own sword chose you over me.”
I glanced down at the sword, wondering. Had it just been a coincidence that Nathaniel had given me the sword, or had the sword planted the idea in his head? It was a little creepy to think that a piece of metal was that sentient.
“Yeah, well, I seem to defy expectations everywhere,” I said. “For some reason my enemies never seem to think much of me.”
I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d seen enough horror movies to know that if you left the monster alone just when you thought it was dead, then it would pop back up and try to kill you one more time.
I swung the sword for the last time, and the head of Baraqiel ap Lucifer rolled away into the sand. A few moments later the head and body started to decompose rapidly until all that was left was a kind of tarlike goo.
I kicked a whole lot of sand over the goo so no one would step in it accidentally. Also, I wasn’t sure that Baraqiel couldn’t regenerate from the light of the sun even in this condition.
I was pretty sure I’d buried him well enough that no one would dig him up accidentally—it was winter, after all, and not many kids would be down here with their sand pails for several months. The sun was just starting to come up, which meant that I’d been out for at least three hours. Samiel had probably woken, and Beezle might be up, too. They were probably panicking.
Unfortunately, my magic was still out and my cell phone was still in my travel bag, sitting on the floor of my kitchen.
I sighed, and started to climb the dune. It was going to be a long walk home.
19
AS I’D EXPECTED, BEEZLE WAS UP AND TOTALLY freaking out when I got home. He, Samiel and Gabriel were all sitting in the dining room with their heads together, apparently devising some action plan.
“Anyone for cinnamon rolls?” I asked, leaning against the doorjamb.
They all looked up, three identical expressions of surprise on their faces. Beezle flew toward me first and put his clawed hands on my face, examining first one side and then the other.
“New bruises on the neck but nowhere else,” he announced. “Where in the four hells have you been?”
So I sat down at the dining room table and told them about Baraqiel—how he was Lucifer’s son and the wolf-killer, how he could shapeshift, and how he had tried to first frame me and then kill me. Gabriel looked graver than usual when I finished my story.
“You have killed another of Lord Lucifer’s progeny,” Gabriel said. “He will not be pleased with you.”
“Believe me, I’ve thought of that already,” I said, waving my right hand. “I try not to contemplate Lucifer’s feelings too closely. It makes me queasy.”
Samiel grabbed my hand out of the air and turned it over, looking at it. Then he looked up at me, questioning.
I stared. There was a mark there that I hadn’t noticed before. It looked almost like a henna tattoo, and it was the exact shape of the snake that adorned the hilt of Lucifer’s sword. The snake seemed to wink at me as I looked at it.
“It couldn’t be,” I said. I crossed the room to the place where I had left the sword leaning against the wall. The blade was still covered in blue-black ichor from Baraqiel’s body.
I picked up the sword and examined it. The snake had disappeared from the hilt. I looked down at my hand again.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “I think the sword branded me.”
“Perhaps that will save your life when Lord Lucifer discovers you have killed Baraqiel,” Gabriel said. “In all the years that Zerachiel and Nathaniel carried the sword it never marked either of them.”
“Did you know? About Baraqiel?” I asked Gabriel.
He shook his head. “The fallen have always known Baraqiel only as Lord Lucifer’s messenger. I do not know how he managed to hide the evidence of his paternity, but one should never question the Morningstar’s ability to deceive others. As I have told you time and again, he is a law unto himself.”
“Right,” I said, and sighed. “Well, I should call Wade and tell him I’ve solved his pack problem. And that he should come and pick up the body in the alley.”