Page 59 of The River of Fire
I shiver and wonder what kind of person he must have been to lead this slimebag’s armies. My mother was adopted as a baby, barely a few weeks old, and never knew who her biological parents were or what they were like. I guess if they were a demon and angel, they didn’t exactly have social security numbers to find them by anyway.
“It’s such a shame he’s not around to do so anymore,” Belial continues, interrupting my thoughts. Something about the way he said it brings my hackles up.
“Well, apparently I’d be a shit general anyway. Something about reaction versus long-term planning. So, best of luck elsewhere.” My voice is breezy despite the anger I’m starting to feel.
Belial pulls his hood down, exposing that monstrous face. I hear yelps and gasps from the soldiers but show no reaction myself. He grins widely, exposing those shark’s teeth. “It is not for underlings to plan wars, girl.” A patronizing voice if I ever heard one. Movement at the corners of my vision makes me turn my head in time to see the rest of our mentors and any other Fallen in residence joining us on the field.
But Belial merely looks at Maalik before issuing a command: “Give her to me, boy.”
I cough in shock at both the outrageous demand and equally absurd moniker; Maalik is as far from a boy as anyone could get, with that towering build, his dark, menacing looks, and a deep, rumbly voice. He schools his reaction better and speaks calmly. “She is not mine to give. And she already politely declined your invitation.”
Daniel steps up to my side, back ramrod straight, and an anger in his eyes that I’m not used to seeing.
Displeasure is now obvious on the archdemon’s face, and he takes in the two Fallen who taught me the most, baring his horrifying teeth. “It would be better for you and every pathetic creature living in this ruin if you bowed now.” A shiver of fear skitters down my spine. Is he going to attack Purgatory? The rest of the Fallen step up into a line of defiance between the archdemon and our home.
I have a second to feel guilty and contemplate just going with him to spare my friends a battle with an archdemon – he could wipe us Elioud off the map in a minute. Maybe the Fallen could get some strikes in, but they’re no match for that power either.
Belial, however, doesn’t attempt to grab me and he doesn’t start decimating our numbers. No, he instead disappears and then materializes at the edge of our realm’s border to Hell. Soon he’s no longer a lone figure as dozens upon dozens of demons file into rank. He’s not going to risk himself, as minuscule as that risk may be, the coward.
My body feels numb as I slowly unsheathe my twin swords again. Somewhere behind me, Ramel is yelling at the soldiers who expected to train today, not fight an archdemon and his army. “Arm yourselves!”
Chapter 43 – Lana
Ichor sprays over my face as Ethan dislodges an axe out of a hellhound’s thick neck. In any other circumstances, one of us would be making a joke about it. But we’re overrun by demons and no one is taking a break to speak beyond short commands and warnings.
I plunge both of my swords under a beefy demon’s chin. The flesh-eating monster gurgles, black blood spilling out from between its sharp teeth. It scrabbles for my swords with its talons, slicing them off on the angelic steel. I grimace and pull the swords apart, eviscerating it.
Before I can catch a breath, unearthly screeching sounds behind me. I whip around to see a female-looking demon floating towards me. I’ve encountered a lot of different types of demons before. Or at least seen drawings of them. But this is a sight that will give me nightmares for weeks – if I survivethis. The head of a beautiful woman floating seven feet above the ground, her entrails trailing under it, dragging over the dirt. While she rushes toward me, I can only discern lungs and lots of intestines. I don’t need to see more, though. Before it reaches me, she’s cleaved in half by Maalik’s greatsword, the severed organs landing on the sandy soil with a plop. My stomach roils and I turn around before I throw up my breakfast, trusting my mentor to finish the demon off.
Liam is fighting several imps, so I run to him to help. While imps are easily dispatched and a type of demon we encounter often, they could overwhelm you with numbers to bring you to the ground. I gather moisture from the air – a rainbow of spilled blood and ichor – and force it into the lungs of four of them. As they start digging into their chests with their clawed hands, I relieve them of their heads, one by one.
“Thanks,” Liam pants, bent over and bracing his hands on his thighs.
“Where’s Puck?” I ask, taking the moment of reprieve to observe my surroundings. Elioud and Fallen battle minor demons all around me. I don’t see many of ours on the ground, but the gore is starting to pile up. This is how I pictured Hell before I even knew it was a real place. Belial is still standing on the edge of the realm, as if he’s waiting for something. Why not just kill us and be done with it?
“That your imp? He disappeared as soon as the demons showed up.” Having caught his breath, my teammate jogs over to Jessica and the fanged demon she’s fighting. A few feet behind them, Daniel is healing Darla, who has a nasty gash running down her thigh, too close to the femoral artery for my liking.
I contemplate helping Daniel heal her, when I’m brought to the ground, a heavy weight settling on my back. Saliva drips onto my neck and I instinctively send a punch of ether-called air to knock back my assailant. I turn to my back just as the hellhound recovers and thrust my swords out so that it impales itself on them on the next charge. Claws dig into my torso and I push my swords in deeper, twisting until the creature stopsmoving.
“Fuck,” I grunt, using another blast of air to roll the demon off me. Dragging myself off the ground, I hiss as scratches that burn like hellfire make themselves known on every side of my body. I send only enough platelets to the wounds that I’m not actively bleeding – I can feel myself draining, my grasp over the ether becoming loose.
I don’t know how much time passes as I fight back-to-back with my teammates, dispatching some stronger demons I’ve only ever read about, and a lot of lesser ones I encountered frequently. All I know is that we never had to fight for so long and we’re all exhausted. Our swings are becoming slower, our strikes sloppier, and I don’t think I could even heal an inflamed hangnail right now.
The Fallen are all fighting a massive behemoth with a body the size of an elephant. The monstrosity sports a horned head like a bull’s and giant bat-like wings. Shaking my head, I head towards a cluster of fire imps harassing an exhausted soldier from Corson’s team. I tag Peter out to take a breather and start dodging the hurled lava rocks the imps are creating using whatever demonic powers they possess, while slicing off smoldering limbs. I can hardly feel my body anymore and my lagging speed allows the last one to get a hit in just before I use my crossed swords to shear off its head.
“Motherfuck!” I yell at no one in particular and summon just enough moisture to douse the fire kindling on the sleeve of my leathers. The dirty liquid reveals a hole the size of a tennis ball, blistered red skin underneath.
“It would be a shame if you died on this battlefield.”
The smarmy voice raises every hair on my body – and even that is painful in my state. I turn around to face the archdemon that, perhaps, waited until I was at the edge of the battle, separated from my allies.
“Still better than enduring whatever you want me for, I’m sure,” I reply coolly. I didn’t expect to make it through this alive, not with an archdemon gunning for me.
“And what if I looked like this?” Belial waves a hand towards his face, which changes between one blink and the next. He now looks like every romantic interpretation of an angel; clear cornflower blue eyes and short, wildly curly golden hair. His sensual pink lips are curled into a beatific smile and his cheeks glow with a healthy blush.
I laugh weakly – seems like even Hell has incels – and the smile instantly transforms into a snarl of rage.Touchy, touchy.
Belial swings out his arm and a blast of ether lifts me off my legs, hurling me through the air. I land on the ground, spinning, the impact knocking my breath away, my bones grinding against each other. Sand scrapes over my face and neck, burning viciously, invading my open mouth.
