Angelfall (Penryn & the End of Days 1)

Putting his head down like a bull, Raffe charges Beliel.

With all that blood loss, I’m surprised Raffe can walk, much less run. He weaves a little as he rushes Beliel, who catches him under one massive arm and shoves him into a cart.

Raffe goes crashing down along with the cart. Vivid red slices appear on his cheek, neck, and arms as his uncontrolled wings flop around during his fall.

I run over to Raffe and hand him his sword.

A look of uncertainty crosses Beliel face, and his motions suddenly become cautious.

As soon as I let go of the hilt in Raffe’s hand, the sword’s tip hits the floor like a ton of lead.

Raffe holds the sword like it takes every ounce of strength for him to keep the hilt from hitting the floor as well. It’s been as light as air in my hands.

Raffe looks like someone just broke his heart.

He looks at his sword in bewilderment and betrayal. He tries to lift it again but can’t. Disbelief and hurt mix in his expression. This is the most emotional I’ve seen him, and seeing him like this makes me want to hurt something.

Beliel is the first of us to recover from the shock of seeing Raffe struggle to lift his blade. “Your own blade rejects you. It senses my wings. You’re no longer just Raphael. ”

He chuckles, a dark sound that’s all the more disturbing by the undercurrent of genuine mirth. “How sad. A leader bereft of followers. An angel with severed wings. A warrior without a sword. ” Beliel circles Raffe like a shark as he taunts him. “You have nothing left. ”

“He has me,” I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Raffe wince.

Beliel looks at me, really seeing me for the first time. “You’ve acquired a pet, archangel. When did this happen?” There’s puzzlement in his voice, as if it’s normal for Beliel to know of Raffe’s companions.

“I’m not anyone’s pet. ”

“I met her tonight at the aerie,” says Raffe. “She’s been following me around. She means nothing. ”

Beliel snorts. “Funny, I didn’t ask if she meant anything to you. ” He looks me up and down, taking in every detail. “Scrawny. But serviceable. ” He saunters toward me.

Raffe hands the sword hilt back to me. “Run. ”

I hesitate, wondering how much of a beating Raffe can take in his state.

“Run!” Raffe positions himself bet

ween me and Beliel.

I run. I hide behind a fetal column to watch.

“Making friends, are we?” asks Beliel. “And with a Daughter of Man. How deliciously ironic. When will the surprises end?” He actually sounds delighted. “Pretty soon, you’ll end up being a full-fledged member of my clan. I always knew you would. You’d make an excellent archdemon. ” His smile dries up. “Too bad I don’t care to have you as my boss. ”

He grabs Raffe in a bear hug but quickly lets go. His arms and chest bleed from fresh cuts, courtesy of Raffe’s new wings. Raffe is apparently not the only one who is unused to his new wings.

This time he grabs Raffe by the neck, lifting him off the floor. Raffe’s face turns red, veins popping on his temples as Beliel crushes his throat.

A loud boom shakes the building above us. Concrete debris crashes through the door to the garage. Several of the remaining glass columns crack, causing the monstrous occupants to gyrate in agitation.

I run toward Beliel.

The sword feels solid and well-balanced in my hands. I swing back the sword and get yet another shock.

The sword adjusts itself.

I could swear it tweaks its angle to raise my elbows higher. It’s ready for battle and thirsty for blood. I blink in surprise, almost missing my timing. But I don’t miss my timing, because, though my feet are frozen in shock, my arm moves in a smooth arc, led by the sword.

I’m not wielding the sword. It is wielding me.

I swing the sword at the same time Raffe whips his deadly wings at Beliel. My sword slices through the meat of his back, wedging in his spine.

Raffe’s wings shred the demon’s cheeks and lay open his forearms. He screams, letting go of Raffe’s throat.

Raffe crumples to the floor, gasping for breath.

Beliel staggers away from us. Maybe if he hadn’t just been through surgery, he would have been strong enough to withstand us both. Or maybe not. The bandages around his middle must be from the sword wound Raffe gave him a few days ago during their last fight. Beliel’s wounds won’t be healing any time soon if Raffe is right about angel swords.

My blade swings back again, clearly wanting me to attack him again. Beliel stares at me with eyes bewildered, no less surprised than the angels who had seen me kill their coworker. An angel sword isn’t supposed to be in the hands of a human girl. It just isn’t done.

Raffe springs up and charges Beliel.

I watch in awe as Raffe pummels Beliel with blows so fast they’re almost a blur. The force of the emotion behind those blows is immense. For the first time, he doesn’t bother to hide his frustration and anger, or his longing for the wings he lost.

As Beliel staggers from the blows, Raffe grabs his old wing and pulls. Stitches begin popping out of Beliel’s back, fresh blood staining the once-snowy wings. Raffe seems determined to get his wings back even if he has to rip them out of Beliel’s flesh, stitch by stitch.