Page 58 of Providence

I roared again, getting inside of the guard of the first guy, taking a slug to the gut. The air whooshed from my lungs, but it wouldn’t kill me. I slammed my knife through his kevlar vest and up under his ribs. Then I pulled it back out and did it again to his kidneys. Yeah, there was no coming back from that, motherfucker.

A bullet to my back had me whirling around and throwing my knife. It nailed the guy right in the eye, making him scream. I leapt over the body of his friend on the ground, slamming the knife further into the guy's eye with my palm. That was actually pretty quick. Still, I pulled out my knife and slit his throat for good measure.

Brutality ensured the results, even though I was now sprayed with arterial blood. War wanted to roll in it and purr like a kitten. Goliath embraced his Horseman like they were one and the same, but I knew that War was his own entity housed inside my body. He had his own desires and needs. Different we might be, but we both wanted Sera. And she was in trouble. We were also in agreement that everyone in our way was going to die like the fucking dogs they were.

I ran around the corner of the house and nearly tripped over a body on the ground. When I looked down, my heart stopped.

Marco.

Shit, shit, shit. I dropped to my knees beside him, looking for whoever shot him, but whoever it was had moved on. Judging by the pool of blood beneath his back, he’d been bleeding out for a while. He was pale, way too pale, and he was gasping. But at least he was still breathing.

I put pressure on the entry wound that was so close to his heart I worried about moving him. Shit fuck. I sat there uselessly. I needed to get him out of here if he was to live, but Sera and the kids needed me. If I got him help and they died, he would never forgive me. If I left him here, and he died, Sera would never forgive me. Hell, I wasn’t sure I’d forgive myself either. I was fucked.

“Goddamnit, Killer. What happened to your instincts?” I jammed my hand against his chest. He was so damn human. So breakable. But his death would have the ability to break us all too. He was a part of us. We were like one organism, Sera and her men. And this fuck? He was the humanity of our group, which was damn ironic. He showed us that while we had all the time in the world, each moment was precious. I would not let him die.

A trickle of awareness spread down my spine, and I turned, my gun drawn. An Archangel stood in front of me, his wings even more pink tinged then the last time I saw him. “He is dying,” Raphael said softly.

I nodded, feeling his heart sluggishly beating under my palm. “Save him. Please.”

I’d beg. I’d plead. I’d bargain. You couldn’t make deals with Archangels the way you could with the Devil, but in that moment, I would have sold the Archangel of Healing my soul several times over.

He smiled, kneeling beside me. “I will. You showed me kindness, and kindness needs to beget kindness, otherwise what is the point?”

I didn’t think he needed an answer to that, but I breathed a sigh of relief when he placed his hands over Marco’s chest, and I saw the flesh heal itself. It started by pushing out the bullet, and it rolled down over his chest and fell into the grass. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I intended to shove it through the brain of the first asshole that I saw.

Raphael hummed softly as the flesh of Marco’s chest knitted itself back together, the flesh turning angry and red, before fading to a soft pink. Marco’s eyes flew open and he gasped.

“Sera!” he screamed. And I fell back on my ass.

I sat back up, leaning over Marco. “Holy fucking shit. You spoke.”

Raphael sucked his teeth. “Hmm, I didn’t mean to do that,” he said softly to himself. “I went too far.”

Marco grabbed my face. “Fuck that. Sera. We’re under attack. Tenebrae have come for her and Madoc.” His voice was like sandpaper and gravel.

I gripped his wrists, his movements still so weak. “It’s okay, Killer. The Horsemen have arrived and no one is taking anyone. I give you my word.”

Marco was still pushing himself up, rolling on to his hands and knees as he tried to pull himself to his feet. I stood, grabbing his arms and pulling him up. He weaved back and forth, unsteady.

Raphael stood, and I might have imagined it, but the pink tips of his wings seemed a little darker. “It will take his body a moment to adjust to the healing. I would suggest rest.” He smiled as he said it, because we both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Already, Marco was walking toward the front of the house.

“Give me a gun,” he growled, and the sound of his voice was still tripping me out. It was deep and rough, like Raphael had only healed it part way. I didn’t argue though, just gave him one of my Glocks.

Raphael followed along behind us, looking lost in a war zone. The Archangel of Healing stood out here, even if he was beginning to Fall. I knew the lore. When an Archangel fell, his wings changed color. You only had to look at Gusion, or Memphis, or even the former Angel of Death to know that.

I reached out and grabbed Marco’s arm. He whirled on me, bringing my own fucking gun up to point it at my face. “I’m going to get my kids. Get Sera.”

I put both hands up, even though I still had my gun in one. “Total agreement, Killer. But they are in the basement, in the safe room. Sera tucked them down there. The back and the front are covered. We should go through the side window at the end of the hall.”

Marco took a deep shuddering breath, pushing his dead-eyed mask down over the fear that had just been there. He nodded, turning to edge his way along the wall. Stealthy, if it wasn’t for the giant fucking Angel. I looked over at Raphael.

“You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to be. I know this isn’t what you are about,” I said softly, and he gave me that sad, sweet smile that always seemed so full of pain.

He nodded once. “I shall be around if you need me. Just call my name and I’ll come.”

I owed him so much. “Same, Raph. I got you.”

He disappeared, and I caught up with Marco. Two men stood in front of the window.

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