Beliel is stalling. Keeping Raffe in place until the scorpions can descend on him. I’m dying to call out a warning to him. It’s all I can do to stay quiet.
“All this theory about how a master warrior race can only survive if every little infraction of the rules is punished in the extreme.” Beliel motions his hand in a gesture that says, Whatever. “It might have made sense once upon a time when there were only a few rules, but now, things have gotten out of hand, don’t you think? We, the Fallen, on the other hand, have proven that a master warrior race can survive just fine with the opposite system. No rules. You do what you want. To whoever you want.”
Raffe advances on him, the harsh lights emphasizing the shadows on his face. He looks like the Angel of Death. Or maybe the Angel of Vengeance. Someone I can’t imagine approaching.
“You would have saved yourself so much hassle if you had listened to reason and joined us,” says Beliel. “That little Daughter of Man who died in your arms? She could have been yours. No one would have said no. No one would have dared to try to take her from you.”
With a vicious growl, Raffe attacks.
30
HE LEAPS for Beliel and slaps his wings into him, clearly meaning to slash through him.
Beliel spins out of the way, partly avoiding the hit. He tosses a work lamp in Raffe’s direction.
The light crashes onto the pier. It flashes with a loose connection, lighting the fighters in a random strobe light.
Blood drips down Beliel’s sneering face and arms. “Admit it. You like the new wings. Why bother with fluffy and feathery when you can have freedom and power?”
“I could ask the same of you, Beliel.” Raffe stalks menacingly toward Beliel.
“I’ve had my life of freedom and rampaging. It’s time for a change. A little respectability. A little well-deserved admiration, don’t you think?” They circle each other like sharks getting ready to attack. Beliel’s limp is gone now that he’s lured Raffe.
“Respectability and admiration are beyond you,” says Raffe. “You’re nothing but a pathetic minion for angels.”
“I am not a minion!” His face turns red and furious. “I have never been a minion. Not for devils, not for angels, not for anybody!” The randomly flashing light highlights the stark shadows of his blood-streaked face.
Raffe leaps for Beliel again. But his motion is interrupted by a net falling on him from the night sky.
Raffe rolls on the pier, tangled in the net.
Get up, get up!
All the fight rages inside me. Can I watch as Raffe gets executed? Every fiber of my being chants, No, no, no.
What can I do? What can I do?
Raffe isn’t struggling against the net like I expected. Instead, he whisks open his wings. The scythe-like hooks on his wings snag the net.
Then his wings slice up, cutting the mesh.
It falls around him like a dropped veil as he leaps up, ready for a fight.
Scorpions drop out of the sky, a couple of them landing on Raffe. He ducks but their glancing blows shove him off balance.
Raffe’s wings, arms, and legs whip around him. Three scorpions go down, writhing in pain. That still leaves half a dozen more plus Beliel. As if that isn’t enough, three more land on the outskirts of the fight.
I pluck off my bear and pull out my sword, ready to dive in.
Mom grabs my shirt and yanks me so hard that I land on my butt like a little kid.
Luckily, Raffe seems to be able to hold his own. I doubt that he’s made peace with his new wings but he’s at least learned to control them better than the last time I saw him.
He’s also a fearless fighter. I hadn’t quite realized just how fierce he could be, but now that I think about it, this may be the first time I’ve seen him fight when it wasn’t immediately after a major injury. The sword’s memories only had him fighting with a sword, which was something to see, but this is more of a ferocious dance.
I’m sure Raffe hasn’t fully recovered yet, but he’s a wonder to watch. He’s fast. Faster than the scorpions that keep trying to sting him. A single scorpion is no more a match for him than a fire ant is to a person.
He’s far outnumbered, though. Yet, he doesn’t seem that concerned as he slowly slashes his way closer to Beliel.
Beliel gets the picture and takes off into the night sky. Apparently, his evil health plan covers wing injuries because his wings seem to work just fine.
Raffe takes off after him.
I watch him get farther from me. He never even knew I was near.
He disappears into the darkness like a fading dream.
I stare at the sky where he vanished for longer than I probably should.
31
THE SCORPIONS hesitate before the first ones leave the ground. I assume they’re flying after Raffe, but I’m not entirely sure. There’s a certain reluctance to the way they take off. Almost half of them stay on the ground, looking at each other, unsure.
These have to be the worst minions ever. Whatever was bred into them, courage wasn’t on the list. No wonder Beliel had to fight off Raffe for so long before the scorpions arrived.
Eventually, all the ones who can take off do. Half a dozen are left bleeding and dead on the splintered dock, while a few writhe and hiss in pain beside them. They don’t look like they’re capable of much harm any more, but I keep a close eye on them, just in case.
Mom lets out a deep sigh beside me. Clara, though, still seems to be frozen in fear. She’s probably going through some post-traumatic stress issues right now after seeing so many scorpions.
It’s time for us to get out of here. Somewhere safe for the night where we can cook up some crazy scheme to rescue Paige. But even I can’t stir up much enthusiasm for nutty schemes right now.
I am just a girl. I am no match for these monsters. They may have looked weak compared to Raffe, and I may have felt like an equal in some ways during my journey with him, but after seeing what I just saw, reality sinks in.
It would be suicide to sneak onto Alcatraz Island. It’s crawling with these monsters and there’s no way of getting back out.
Despite my erratic behavior, both Mom and Clara still depend on me to decide the timing of our exit out of here. We’re in the shadows and should have a decent shot of making it out unnoticed.
I listen for enemies and monsters. All I hear are the terrified sobs of the people locked in the container. The sounds are muffled now, probably to avoid attention, but the captives can’t seem to stop themselves.
The container lights up with the intermittent flashes of the work lamp lying on the ground. Behind the rollup gate, the prisoners crowd together, giving me an impression of despair and grime every time the light flashes.
I get ready to sprint from the pile of crates we’re hiding behind. But I can’t seem to leave. My eyes keep drifting over to the people locked in the container.
In theory, it would be a no-brainer to run over and let them out. It would only take a couple of minutes to free a bunch of people from whatever horrors await them.
If I had the key.
Beliel hung it on one of the lamps but now, I’m not sure which of the two lamps he used. If it was on the one he threw at Raffe, it could take an hour to find it.
I close my eyes, trying to shut out the sights and sounds of the prisoners. I need to concentrate on Paige and Mom. I can’t just be distracted by everybody who needs help, because we all need help now. Desperately.
I glance at Mom and see the terror on her face. She’s moving her lips silently and rocking back and forth. These are real monsters straight out of her nightmares. Clara is looking even worse, if that’s possible.