Rage and Ruin (The Harbinger 2)

I cursed as I darted forward, jumping over one of those damn LUDs. My approach wasn’t stealthy. The demon spun toward me and clawed at my head. I dipped low and then sprang up behind the Nightcrawler, drawing the sword up with me. The fire cut through bone and tissue like it was paper. The demon erupted into flames, leaving behind nothing but ash.

“Thanks,” Cayman gasped, snapping the neck of another Nightcrawler.

I nodded as I rushed toward a Shadow Person creeping up behind Roth. As I lifted my sword, I felt coldness dance along my neck and settle between my shoulders.

“He’s here!” I yelled, taking down the shadow.

And then there he was, strolling out of the tunnel like he was taking a walk in the park, his white-blond hair a stark contrast against the gloom.

“Bambi!” Roth shouted, calling for his familiar. “Off!”

Nothing happened.

Sulien chuckled as he strode forward. “You’ll find that the wards will prevent your familiars from making an appearance.”

Hell.

That was unforeseen, but I didn’t have the time to dwell on that development. I lowered my sword, standing with my feet shoulder width apart. “Nice of you to join us.”

“I like to make an entrance.” His grace roared to life as Cayman started toward him, the deadly spear sparking white fire tinged in blue. He pointed it at Cayman’s chest. “I would not take one more step.”

“Back off, Cayman.” I started forward. “I got this.”

For a moment, I didn’t think Cayman was going to listen, but he lifted off the ground, snatching up a LUD and throwing it like a beanbag at a nearby Nightcrawler.

“Are you sure you got this, darlin’?” Sulien asked.

“What did I tell you about calling me that? And yeah,” I said, stepping back and slicing through the Shadow Person that appeared in my central vision. “I got this.”

“You’re right where I wanted you, though,” Sulien said. “Did you think about that?”

The final Shadow Person went up in a ripple of smoke. “Are you just going to stand there?” I demanded of Sulien. “Afraid to fight?”

“No.” He dipped his chin as he crossed his chest with the spear. “I’m waiting.”

Taking shallow breaths, l gave the cavern a quick scan. I saw no more Shadow People or Nightcrawlers. There were still a few LUDs running around and chattering. “Waiting for—”

A horn blared, the sound so deafening and otherworldly I knew it could be the sign of only one thing.

“Roth! Cayman!” I shouted. “Get out of here. Now!”

The two demons froze as the remaining LUDs scattered toward the tunnels. Pinpricks of light appeared, like stars coming out for the night. They grew and spread rapidly, connecting. Golden-white light flashed across the ceiling, charging the air with power and momentarily blinding me. I stumbled back as it pulsed and pulled away from the ceiling. Iridescent light dripped and sparked, forming a funnel of dazzling brightness. My grace throbbed in response to the heavenly glow.

Holy crap.

An angel was coming, and it wouldn’t matter that Roth and Cayman were on Team Stop the End of the World.

“Too late.” Sulien laughed, his spear collapsing into ash. “Unless they want to reenact what happens when insects fly into bug zappers.”

Refocusing on Sulien, I lifted the sword. “You’re in so much trouble now.”

“You think?” he asked, and lifted a brow.

My step faltered as I prepared to strike him. His actions didn’t make sense. He’d reined back his grace, and why would he do that when an angel was coming? Angels could be jerks, but they were good, and Sulien was obviously—

The floor rattled and the walls shook. The entire world seemed to tremble. Stacked rocks toppled and hit the packed dirt. Roth rose, his wings spinning him out of the path. He came back down a few feet behind me as Cayman remained crouched, amber eyes glowing like coals.

The trumpet sounded once more, causing my brain to feel like it was bouncing around in my skull. I lost my grasp on my grace and my sword collapsed.

In the center of the light, the form of a man took shape. He was tall, nearly seven feet, and as he stepped out of the column, I saw that he wore billowing white pants, his chest bare and skin so luminous and ever shifting, he was neither white nor brown and yet somehow every shade in existence. Just like my father.

But this was not my father.

That much I knew.

He strode forward, his back to the stone archway and the churning static-filled center. From the amount of power he was throwing off, he was definitely an archangel.

Sulien didn’t cower or run. He remained where he stood.

Waiting.

“What an entrance,” Roth murmured. “Wonder what he’s compensating for.”

The archangel lifted his hand and flicked his wrist, and then Roth and Cayman were both suspended like an invisible hand had snatched them up. They flew through the air and crashed into the rocks and boulders. Both went down, shifting in and out of their forms, landing in the mess of rocks, arms and legs strewn at awkward angles.

Oh God, they didn’t move.

My head snapped toward the archangel as he came to stand behind Sulien, placing his hand on the Trueborn’s shoulder.

“My son,” he spoke, his voice soft and warm, as if it were full of sunlight. “What have you brought me?”

“The blood of Michael.” Sulien smirked. “And two demons. They were unexpected.”

A dawning sense of horror woke inside me as the archangel turned his head toward me, eyes pure orbs of white. He stepped around the Trueborn—around his son—his lip curling on one side as he looked me up and down.

“The child of Michael,” he spoke. “I was expecting someone more...impressive.”

I blinked.

“But then again, Michael hasn’t taken any real interest in you, now, has he, child?” he continued. “I should not be surprised.”

Okay.

That was rude.

“Who in the Hell are you?” I demanded.

“I am the Gospel and the Truth. I appeared to Daniel to explain his visions, and I stood beside your father and defended the people against the Fallen and other nations. I am the Saint that appeared before Zechariah and Mary, predicting the births of John the Baptist and Jesus. I am the archangel who delivered Truth and Knowledge to Muhammad.” His wings lifted and spread out behind him, and there...there was something wrong with them. Inky veins streaked through the white, leaking what looked like tar. “I am Gabriel, the Harbinger.”

40

Shock rolled through me, feeling like I’d been thrust unexpectedly into freezing water as I stared at the archangel Gabriel.

“You look surprised.” His lips curved into a smile.

Instinct demanded I take a step back, but I held myself in place. “I don’t understand. You’re Gabriel.”

“Pretty sure he’s aware of who he is, darlin’.” Sulien looked over to where Roth and Cayman were.

I barely heard the Trueborn. “How could it be you?”

“How could it be me killing Wardens? Demons?” One whitish-blond brow rose. “Because it was me. My son kept an eye on things—an eye on you—but it was me.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It had nothing to do with being wrong about Sulien and everything to do with the fact the Harbinger was Gabriel, one of the most powerful angels—one of the first to ever be created. But it suddenly made too much sense. The angelic wards and weapons. The ruined video feeds. It seemed so obvious, it was almost painful, but even I couldn’t understand how an archangel could work with witches and demons and kill not only Wardens but innocent humans.

“Ask me,” he coaxed. “Ask me why.”

“Why?”

His smile grew. “I’m going to change the world. That’s what all of this is about. What all of this has been about.” He gestured toward the archway. “The souls of the deceased. This portal.” He paused. “Misha. You. I’m going to change the world for the better.”

All I could do was stare.

His wings lowered, their tips nearly touching the ground. “Man never should have received the gift God bestowed upon him. They’ve never been deserving of such a blessing as eternity. That is what a soul grants a human—an eternity of peace or terror, their choice, but eternity nonetheless. But a soul...it does so much more. That is how one loves. That is how one hates. It is mankind’s essence, and man was never deserving to know such glory.”

“How... Who can say that man could never be deserving?”

“How could man be deserving of the ability to love and to hate and to feel when His first creations—us, His ever faithful and most deserving, the ones who defend His glory and spread His word—never were?”

“Because...you’re angels? And you’re not human?” I was so confused. So confused.

“We have auras. We have a pure essence.” He looked at me, those all-white eyes beyond creepy. “But we do not have souls.”

He turned slightly, looking to where Sulien was eyeing the demons, and then to the ceiling. “God has done everything to protect man. Given them life and joy and love. Purpose. The ability to create. Raised the Fallen to watch over them, and given them souls as reward. Has done everything to ensure that, when they leave this mortal coil, they find peace. Even those who sin can find forgiveness, and only the most evil and the most unforgivable face judgment. That will change. Mankind as we know it is at its end. Many of us warned God this day would come. There was no stopping this.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.” I tried to keep an eye on Sulien as he nudged Cayman with his boot. “God—”

“God has believed in man, and man has betrayed God. What have they done since creation? What have they done with the gift of life and eternity? They made war and created famine and disease. They brought death to their own doors, welcoming it in. They judge as if they are worthy of doing so. They worship false idols who preach what they want to hear and not the gospel. They use the name of God and the Son as vindication for their hatred and their fear.” Gabriel tilted his head, his voice smooth and soft. “There has not been one minute in the course of human history that mankind has not made war upon itself. Not an hour when they do not take another life. Not a day they do not hurt one another with words or deeds. Not a week that they do not strip this land of everything God has given it to offer. Not a month where weapons created to destroy life do not pass from hand to hand, leaving nothing but blood and despair behind.”