Black Night

There were things I didn’t understand, though. “Why would you kill all these wolves? Why the pointless bloodshed?”

“Pointless?” Baraqiel growled. “The wolves have thwarted and defied my father at every turn. Tyrone Wade has been a sworn enemy of Lucifer for more than thirty years.”

“Yeah, well, I defy him at every turn, too,” I said.

“A fact that I was attempting to remedy,” Baraqiel said, and his insane grin made me shudder. “I tried to plant evidence of your involvement at the sites of the killings, but Wade seemed to believe your innocence. I thought that if a body was found right on your doorstep, the wolves would demand your head as compensation and Wade’s hand would be forced.”

“Does Lucifer know that you’re doing this?” I asked.

“Who knows what my father does and does not know?” Baraqiel said craftily. “In any event, I do not think he would be bothered by a few dead wolves.”

“But he might be bothered that you’re trying to incriminate me,” I said. “He kind of likes me, you know, because of Evangeline.”

“Yes,” Baraqiel hissed, and for a moment his form shifted back to that of the blue monster before returning to his angelic one. “That is all I hear about, all anyone hears about. Madeline Black, his beloved granddaughter, last child of Evangeline’s line. No child of his own has ever been more adored than you.”

Well, that came as a surprise. I knew that Lucifer was partial to me because I was the last direct descendant of Evangeline, but he wasn’t exactly an affectionate relation. Most of our exchanges seemed to involve commands and threats.

“Whatever my relationship—or yours, for that matter—to Lucifer, these wolf killings end now. I’m going to make sure that you are brought to justice for this,” I said. “And if Lucifer won’t do it, then I’m sure the wolves will take care of you.”

Baraqiel stalked toward me. “What makes you think I am going to let you take me?”

I sighed. “I didn’t think you would make it easy for me.”

He reached for me again, and I flew upward, dodging away. His missing wing made it impossible for him to give chase once I was above the ground. I focused my power, pushed it through my heartstone, and let loose the blast of sunlight that I had used to kill Ramuell.

A blaze lit up the beach and for a moment it looked like a midsummer’s day. Then the blaze faded, and Baraqiel stood there, laughing at me, his missing wing magically regrown.

“Thank you, cousin,” he said. “That was exactly what I needed.”

Okay. So apparently the sun, which was fatal to Ramuell, made Baraqiel rejuvenate his powers like Superman. Wonderful. Nightfire didn’t work, sunlight didn’t work, and I’d lost the sword. What was I supposed to do, annoy him to death?

He launched from the beach and came after me. I feinted to one side and then flew the other, swooping low over the sand and desperately searching for the sword.

It was then that Baraqiel let loose a magical pulse. As it rippled across me, my wings disappeared, my power flickered out and I fell to the ground.

I rolled over, my mouth and eyes full of sand. I scrabbled desperately at my face, trying to clear my vision. Baraqiel fell upon me, his hands closing around my throat again.

I kicked up and into his crotch with my boot. Yup, that works on pretty much any male, no matter what their species. He yelped and loosened his grip for a moment, which allowed me to push to my feet and sprint down the beach as fast as I could.

I had no magic, but it seemed that Baraqiel didn’t have much in the spell department except for the ability to shapeshift and knock out other creatures’ powers. So at least we were on even footing there.

Of course, he had wings again, and I didn’t, and he was about fifty times as strong as me. So big advantage to Baraqiel.

I heard his wings pulsing behind me, and I picked up speed. It wasn’t easy. Sand is not the fastest surface to run on, especially when you’re wearing combat boots and are totally out of shape.

I tripped over my own feet just as Baraqiel swooped in for the kill. Thank goodness I was the clumsiest thing going.

Lucifer’s sword glittered in the sand right under my nose.

I grabbed it and pushed up to my knees as Baraqiel made another turn. His silver blue eyes were alight with murder and madness. I let my sword hand hang at my side and allowed him to carry me into the air, his hands closing around my neck.

I didn’t struggle against him, but I lifted the sword and ran it through his chest. I felt his heartstone give under the blade, and for the second time that night there was a gigantic explosion of light.

I held tight to the sword as Baraqiel’s hands went limp and he dropped me into the sand again. I was lucky I didn’t land on the blade. I jumped to my feet immediately and ran back to where his body lay in the sand, bluish black blood pumping out from the hole in his chest.

He glared up at me, his face both angry and resigned. “I cannot believe that Lucifer’s own sword chose you over me.”

I glanced down at the sword, wondering. Had it just been a coincidence that Nathaniel had given me the sword, or had the sword planted the idea in his head? It was a little creepy to think that a piece of metal was that sentient.

“Yeah, well, I seem to defy expectations everywhere,” I said. “For some reason my enemies never seem to think much of me.”

I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d seen enough horror movies to know that if you left the monster alone just when you thought it was dead, then it would pop back up and try to kill you one more time.