Page 51 of The Morning Star
“No.” Lux’s ass again blocked the screen. I threw the remote at him, but he didn’t budge. “Da.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine. I sent a quick text. Have you checked the gates lately? Whole bunch of demons tearing the shit out of some city. Wondering how they got in, given your new shoot-first policy.
Lux glared at me. I ignored him, so he turned back to the television.
New safeguards held. Seattle and Bogota only gates that fell.
Shit. That was two gates too many, although I was kind of proud that his Grigori had managed to hold five out of seven portals.
Watching the news now. Don’t think this is going on in Bogota or Seattle, though.
And because I figured Gabe was upstairs in Nyalla’s bedroom, I sent him a quick text as well. Might as well get the whole gang here and formulate a unified response.
My phone buzzed with the reply from Gregory. Where? Be there soon—will brief you when I arrive.
I eyed the screen, waiting for the announcers to tell me the answer to that question.
Los Angeles, I texted back. It’s an army of demons. I glanced at Lux’s backside. Told you so.
The young angel spun around and shot a glare my way. I chuckled. “Oh, come on. Like I could resist.”
He waddled over to me. “Da. No. Mama do.”
“Let me figure out exactly what’s going on before I go in there. For all I know, this is a distraction for the real attack.”
“Mama.” He put his hand on my knee and looked up into my eyes. I saw a charming vulnerability there, along with searing compassion for all those humans being dragged out of their houses and cars.
I scooped him up and set him on my lap where he snuggled into me like a little hairless puppy. For an Angel of Order, Lux sure liked sensation, especially touch. He was what the humans would have called cuddly, which Nyalla especially loved. When she was around, Lux let Nyalla carry him around and even feed him, staring at her with big adoring eyes every second.
It kinda pissed me off. Demons didn’t do that shit, and I didn’t think angels should either. But now that Lux was a warm bundle of snuggling affection in my arms, smelling of powder and sunshine, I understood the appeal.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “We’ll handle it, Da and your uncles and me. We’ll take care of it.”
“Da, no.”
“We need Da. He’s the most powerful of all the archangels. If the rest of us don’t beat some sense into these demons, he’ll show up and make them rue the day the tried to take the City of Angels.”
Lux shook his head. “Da, no.” Then he pointed at the screen.
My breath caught. “Fuck,” I whispered on the exhale. There on the screen was an angel—an Angel of Chaos with white-blond hair, golden skin, and pale blue eyes. His tattered decayed wings were leathery with sparse, decaying black feathers. He was quite possibly the most beautiful being I’d ever seen, and I swear I could feel his power even through the television screen.
The newscaster and humans filming the scene froze, clearly undecided if this winged man was one of their angel saviors, or on the side of the invading demons. The Ancient walked up and ripped the hand-held mic from the newscaster’s hand, then looked directly into the camera.
“This city is ours. The state is ours. All the gateways from Hel and the areas around them are ours.”
Either Gregory was wrong, or this guy hadn’t gotten the memo that his attempt to take all the major gates had only partially succeeded.
“It will all be ours,” he continued. “And we won’t rest until every living thing on this planet is dead. We won’t rest until the angels grovel before us, until we rip the wings from their backs, and slowly shred their spirit-selves. Death has arrived.”
As if to illustrate that point, the Ancient turned to the newscaster, thrust his hand through the man’s chest, and ripped out a bloody mess of organs that probably included a heart. The camera smashed to the ground, the transmission from that point a view showing only blood on the pavement, and relaying the sounds of panicked screams. The station quickly cut to a newsroom, where shaken commentators filled the horrible silence with awkward assurances that the angels would arrive soon, and all would be okay.
Angels. Not the Iblis. These were my demons tearing this city apart. I had no control over them. I’d need to rely on Gregory and the other angels to help me get control of the situation.
Except I couldn’t involve them. I didn’t want them to face their brother on a battlefield again. Which meant I needed to take care of this, and do it on my own, without angelic backup.
“Bad man,” Lux announced.
Samael. I glanced at the stairs and changed the channel, not wanting Gabe to come down and see, or hear this. Your father’s brother. He can’t know. He can’t know it’s him who’s doing this. He can’t know Samael is alive.
