Battle Angel (Immortal City 3)

A rocket screamed down and exploded in the street two blocks away, rattling the rooftop Jackson walked on. He didn’t even flinch as he scanned the sky for Battle Angel reinforcements. He didn’t know how many hours of pitched battle in the skies and streets of Angel City had passed. With the demon invasion came darkness that had shrouded the sun and turned the day into a permanent twilight. Had it already been a full day? Time seemed to stretch and compress before Jacks in the fog and exhaustion of this war that none of his studies could have ever prepared him for.

Mitch was there by his side, assessing the situation. Both Angels looked battle-worn, their armor tarnished, marred by more than a few stains of demon blood.

“They’re coming so fast, faster than we can kill them,” Mitch said. “How can we hold them? They’re wearing us down.”

“I don’t know,” Jacks said. “But we have to. We have to get to the leader, Mitch. It’s our only hope.”

“Well let’s hope the detective gives us something soon,” Mitch said. “We can’t hold them forever.”

Jackson looked up and saw a small group of Battle Angels returning from the west. Archangel Godspeed was leading them. Their eyes were dead-set and determined.

“Mark!” Jacks shouted, glad to see his stepfather all right. Suddenly, off to Mark’s left, they saw a line of Dark Angels flying just above the horizon, trying to speed around the Angel defenses. Jackson pumped his wings—once, twice—but Mitch put his hand on his shoulder.

“Mark and I got this,” he said. “Right, Mark?” he shouted up to the Archangel, who was flying just above. He nodded at Mitch.

“You, you, and you—follow me!” Mark yelled over the din of the battle to a cluster of Angels flying past. Mitch smiled at Jacks as he launched off the roof to join Mark in their pursuit of the demons. Jackson watched them disappear into the dark sky, his heart tugging as the image of Mark and his best friend faded from his sight into the storm of the demon assault.

“Jacks! Jacks!” a voice screamed suddenly. Jacks felt the whoosh of an Angel rushing up past his battle aides. “I found you!” He was a Guardian whom Jackson had met only a handful of times. Jackson thought his name was Trevor. “I finally found you.”

Demons clotted in the streets below, advancing faster and faster.

“What is it?” Jacks said a bit impatiently.

“Louis Kreuz—”

The name grabbed Jackson’s attention. “Did he make it out?”

“The ADC agents took him, Jacks. He escaped today . . . but not before they took his wings. He was injured pretty badly. . . . It was worse than just his wings.” Trevor’s brow darkened. “He had a message for you. He wanted me to give it to you personally.”

“A message?” Jacks’s pulse quickened.

“Well, I really don’t understand it,” the Guardian said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What is it? What’s the message?” J

acks asked. He had to stop himself from grabbing the Angel by his collar.

“It’s only one word,” Trevor said. “Well, a name, actually.”

Jacks stared at the messenger, the anticipation nearly killing him. He knew Kreuz’s message could mean the difference between victory and complete, utter defeat.

“The message is: Gabriel,” Trevor said.

The name was like a bolt of lightning searing into Jackson’s body and soul.

Suddenly it all made sense.

“Jacks, are you all right?” Trevor asked, surely a little disturbed at the effect his message had had on the Angels’ battle leader.

“Yeah. Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine. . . . Thank you for bringing me this message,” Jackson said, trying to recover so the Guardian would leave him alone. “Just, please, keep it to yourself.” Trevor nodded and backed off, much to Jacks’s relief.

Jacks looked up to the Angel City Hills, his mind’s eye burrowing into the evil truth that was deep beneath them.

Of course. Of course. Of course.

It was Gabriel. Gabriel was controlling them.

He was the head demon.