The lightning continued to fall, lashing out at those who attempted to escape, their ashes scattering on the blowing winds. The surviving citizens ran for cover against the electrical onslaught, but Lehash turned in the direction of his daughter. He summoned a pistol of golden fire and discharged a shot into the air, hoping to capture Lorelei’s attention. The Nephilim sorceress didn’t even flinch, continuing to stare up into the heavens, arms outstretched as she drew down the fury of the elements.
As a new succession of lightning bolts rained down from above, Lehash felt a tremor beneath his boots. The intensity of the power his daughter was unleashing, it permeated the very earth. And he remembered the tons of toxic waste buried beneath the Ravenschild Estates. He sprinted toward his daughter as he felt another vibration. He had to get her attention; he had to get her to stop before—
The air was filled with the sounds of explosions and the ground trembled beneath Gabriel’s paws. Plumes of flame, the color of tarnished sunset rose up into the sky in the distance, as if attempting to rival the perilous fury of the lightning bolts that continued to emanate from the pregnant clouds in the distance.
He had feared something like this; it was why he hadn’t wanted to leave Aaron’s side, but he couldn’t have denied his master’s wishes. Aaron had said he should protect Vilma and that was what he was going to do. The three Powers’ soldiers that had been advancing on the house stopped their progress and anxiously gazed off in the direction of the sounds of destruction, Gabriel and the girl inside temporarily forgotten.
Above the rumble of thunder, Gabriel heard Vilma’s pitiful cries from inside the house behind him. When he had reached the home earlier, he’d found the girl in the grip of what he thought to be a nightmare. But as he listened to the words she spoke, the dog came to realize that even in the midst of sleep, the girl was seeing the war being waged between the Powers and the citizens. It was her plaintive murmurings of what was happening to his friends that drove the dog from the house, and it was a good thing, too, for he would never have known they were about to be attacked.
The angels looked back to him, weapons of fire held in their hands. They must have been drawn to Vilma’s scent, he thought, to the scent of her newly awakening abilities. Gabriel crouched low and emitted a fearsome growl. Hackles rose around his neck and tail, and the power that had been inside since Aaron brought him back from the brink of death let its presence be known. Gabriel knew that he was different now, and accepted it. As Aaron had a special purpose upon the world, the dog decided that he did as well. It was his job to protect his master and to do his bidding. Vilma would be protected, or he would die trying.
The Powers stopped, studying the dog that blocked their advance.
“It is the animal,” said one of the angels. “The one the Nephilim altered.”
“You are correct, brother,” said the second. “And it has been made savage by the Nephilim’s poisonous taint.”
“We would be showing it a great mercy if we were to end its life,” said the last, and he crept closer. The others cautiously followed.
“Don’t think I’m going to make this easy,” Gabriel growled, his large, blocky head moving slowly from side to side, keeping his eyes on all three of his adversaries.
There were more explosions in the distance, blasts that sent powerful shock waves through the ground and shattered the windows of homes around them. Geysers of flame erupted into the sky followed by billowing clouds of oily, black smoke.
The angels were distracted. Bolts of electricity continued to drop from the sky, and wherever lightning fell, an explosion that shook the neighborhood followed. Gabriel held his ground uneasily, fearing for his master’s safety.
They looked back to him, but he could see in their eyes that the angels had lost interest. Each continued to gaze longingly in the direction from whence they had come.
“I think your brothers might need your help,” Gabriel said, hoping he could convince them to leave.
They looked at one another. The sounds of explosions filled the air.
“Are you going to waste your time fighting an animal, or are you going to help your brothers?”
The angels suddenly screamed, their cries like those of the seagulls he used to chase on Lynn beach, and Gabriel thought he had made a mistake. But they didn’t attack; instead each opened his wings and they flew off to join their brethren. Gabriel watched them glide through the air and had to fight the urge to follow. He was worried about Aaron and about the citizens, but he had made a promise that he would not break.
The dog heard a noise behind him and turned to see the front door slowly open. Vilma stood there, wrapped in the knitted afghan that had been thrown over the back of the couch. She appeared cold, her body racked with chills. Her eyes were wide, as if awakened by something that had truly terrified her. The smell of sickly sweat wafted from her body in waves.
Gabriel padded back up the concrete path toward her. “What’s the matter, Vilma?”
On bare feet she stepped out of the house and proceeded down the path. She seemed drawn to the sounds of the explosions and looked off in the direction where the angels had just gone.
“Vilma,” Gabriel said, standing by her side. “What did you see, Vilma?” he asked her softly, not sure he wanted the answer.
“He’s still alive,” Vilma said softly, a tremble in her voice. “Aaron’s alive.”
And, overcome with relief and happiness that his master was safe, Gabriel tilted back his head and howled with joy.
Aaron regained consciousness gradually, his brain fumbling for connections to his senses. Hearing was first, but that only caught his own labored breathing and the rapid-fire beating of his heart. Pain came next, a thousand aches, bruises and cuts. He wiggled toes and fingers, flexed muscles in his arms, back, and legs. They all hurt, but everything seemed to be working.
As he opened his eyes, he recalled the battle he had been fighting before … before what?
His blurred vision gradually cleared to reveal the obscene level of devastation that had befallen Aerie. He remembered fighting Verchiel. The last thing he recalled was the Powers’ leader attacking, a blade of fire destined for his throat. He was about to reveal the identity of the angel that had sired him—Verchiel was about to say his father’s name when there was a blinding flash, and an explosion that tossed the angel aside like a rag doll.
The air was thick with acrid smoke, but it did not hide the corpses that littered the ground.
On weakened legs Aaron walked among them, his eyes falling upon bodies so badly burned that their identities were a mystery. Friend or foe, he had no way of telling, and an incredible sadness washed over him.
“Verchiel,” he whispered with disdain, somehow knowing that his enemy’s body was not among the blackened corpses at his feet. Aaron knew that somehow Verchiel had survived the cataclysm that had ravaged this place.
He heard an awkward approach behind him and whirled, a sword of flame coming to life in hand. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically, but he was ready to fight again if necessary. From the thick smoke they came, a bedraggled Lehash supporting a weakened Lorelei, followed by other residents that had survived the Powers’ attack.
“You’re alive,” Aaron said, beaming as the gunslinger and his Nephilim daughter lurched toward him.
“Appears that way,” Lehash responded. His clothes, face, and hands were covered in a thick mixture of dirt, dust, and dried blood. “Can’t say that would’ve been the case if it weren’t for Lorelei here,” he said, his attention upon the young woman at his side. Lorelei looked the way he felt, drained of all strength. “She brought the wrath of Heaven down on them sons a’ bitches,” Lehash said proudly, and Aaron then knew that it had been angel magick that rained down upon Aerie that day.