The Elder Prophets (To Absolve the Fallen Book 2) Read online

  Metatron walked out of his library and down the stairs toward where Jeremiah was being held. He would absorb Jeremiah’s power, after promising to try to save the foolish prophets outside. If Jeremiah would not relent, Metatron and the six demons he had assigned to guard Jeremiah would kill his errant general outright.

  Metatron wished that he’d known that the prophets were right outside his castle. They would not have accomplished what they had. The repair his castle was going to need would be cumbersome, to say the least. But the presence of so many demons has a down side. It makes it more difficult to sense any kind of supernatural disturbance. However, Metatron was still happy. The time, effort, and money it would take to fix the castle were well worth it.

  What he saw as he was coming down the stairs took away some of the happiness.

  “Jeremiah,” he said, almost disbelieving, “...and Alex.” Metatron tried to hide his anger. “Well, I suppose I won’t need to go all the way down into the dungeon to speak with you.”

  Jeremiah made to place himself between Metatron and Alex, but Alex held him back and, to Jeremiah’s astonishment, he stepped between the two demons.

  “The longer you remain here,” Alex cautioned, “the more of your forces you are going to lose. Let us go, and we’ll be on our way.”

  Metatron looked quizzically at Alex. “Do you really think that what’s out there is any real threat to me?”

  “I’m guessing that your intelligence has not completely alerted you to what is out there,” Alex returned with a grin. “I take it you’ve heard of the demon hunter, Garrett.”

  Metatron lost the questioning smile. “You’re bluffing.”

  “No,” replied Alex, “I’m not. Alone, we would have had no chance of rescuing Jeremiah. But, with help, we can destroy this castle and everyone inside.”

  “Not even Garrett is that powerful,” Metatron countered.

  “Maybe not,” Alex admitted, “but Garrett is not the only demon hunter out there.”

  “You’re lying,” Metatron stated. “Demon hunters only travel alone.”

  “They normally travel alone,” Alex corrected, “and they often hunt in groups. You don’t have to believe me. As far as I’m concerned, if you don’t step out of our way, you’ll never make it to the battle.”

  Jeremiah smiled. “I’d do as he says, Metatron.”

  “Jeremiah,” Metatron said, “I’ve come to offer you a chance to surrender. If you and Alex remain in the castle, as my guests, I will let your valiant rescuers leave alive—if they so choose. This is a one-time offer.”

  “No deals, demon,” Alex responded. “We have the upper-hand.”

  “Boy,” Metatron growled, “you cannot possibly hope to defeat me.”

  “You mean again? I may not be able to destroy you on my own, but I can weaken you enough that Jeremiah could easily banish you to Hell. There’s no one around to help you,” Alex observed. “They’ve all gone to the battle—a battle that they will lose.”

  “You have no idea what you’ve done,” Metatron said. “But I will let you go. The next time I come for you, prophet, demon hunters will not be enough to save you.”

  Metatron turned and walked back up the steps. Jeremiah and Alex looked at each other and followed, cautiously.

  ***

  Matt’s mercenaries were engaged in battle, dozens of them had already lost their lives. Matt was impressed, though, with how many of them had managed to kill demons. The successes were not great, but Matt didn’t know how mortals, no matter how well-trained or organized they were, might be able to fare against demons.

  Many of the mercenaries had already expended all of the ammunition they’d brought with them and had resorted to hand-to-hand combat, which did not bode well. Several of them were finding that even bullets had little effect on most of the demons.

  The fiends, themselves, had all changed into their battle forms. There was a myriad shapes, sizes, and hues across the front of Metatron’s castle. At least, Matt thought, our enemies are easy to identify.

  Matt, Dylan, and Lao Shi were on the edge of combat. Matt had a machine gun in one hand and his blade in the other. Dylan had two handguns. Matt was impressed when he had seen Dylan firing a .40-caliber in each hand. That took some skill. Still, most of Dylan’s attacks did not come from the guns. He would scan the immediate area for a demon who had been struck and amplify the wounds. Most of those wounds were being created by Lao Shi, who looked like a windmill as his hookswords were flying through the air. The Lama was quite proficient with many kinds of martial weapons, but he had decided that the hookswords would be the most effective.

  Garrett, on the other hand, could not be seen. As they had approached the fray, Garrett told them to fight on the outside and slowly move forward. But, after he was sure his directions were understood, he waded right into the horde of demons, cutting them down without even stopping. Every once in a while, Matt could see the glint from Garrett’s mace, high in the air. Then, it would fall, no doubt obliterating the skull of the demon closest to him.

  Suddenly, Matt’s arm was entangled by a black tentacle. He saw the hulking beast to whom the appendage belonged. It stood at least two feet taller than Matt, and it looked to be coated in tar. It emitted a weird sucking sound, and Matt started feeling very cold. His mind told him to lash out at the beast, to strike the tentacle with his blade, but his body didn’t respond. In Matt’s mind, the thing was calling to him; it knew his name. Matt fell to his knees.

  Lao Shi leapt forward. He pushed his hookswords against the thing’s neck, one on top of the other, making them look like a pair of huge, curved scissors. And he slid the swords across each other, extending his arms to the sides, ripping pieces of the beast’s neck with them. The demon started to fall backwards, taking Matt with it, but Lao Shi was too fast. The Lama brought his right hook sword down onto the tentacle attached to Matt, severing the connection. Then, he shoved the handguard of the left, itself a blade, shaped like a crescent moon, into the monster’s face, knocking it onto its back.

  Next, Dylan went to work on the fiend. He wasn’t sure if the ooze coming from the creature actually constituted as blood, but he would do his best to command the liquid. He focused on drawing the oil-looking blood out of the gash in the monster’s neck, and it seemed to work. The demon tried to stand again, but the blood was pouring out of it too quickly. Abruptly, it fell back to the ground and did not move again.

  Matt looked stunned, and Lao Shi bent down to help him back up, when Dylan yelled, “Look out!”

  Lao Shi turned to see a human-looking demon with translucent red skin rushing toward them. Underneath the skin, liquid flowed that resembled lava. The demon grabbed Lao Shi by the arm, and the prophet felt and heard his skin sizzling. Lao Shi had been burned many times, but this pain was excruciating. He cried aloud from the attack.

  Matt swept his left leg at the demon’s shin, causing it to fall, letting go of Lao Shi. Matt jumped on top of it, his knees pinning the creature’s arms, and stuck his shard into its neck. He rolled off the beast when his pants started to burn and smacked the legs of his jeans to put out the fire.

  The demon slowly got to its feet, but Lao Shi had already assessed the situation. He grabbed the knife, still in the demon’s throat, and pushed it hard to the right, slicing clean through. Magma blood shot out of its neck, and Matt barely dodged the burning fluid. The monster fell to the ground, the grass around its body smoldering.

  Dylan, who stood directly behind Lao Shi, pointed his twin handguns into the air and put several bullets into a brown, furry demon, with long, black, leathery wings and pointed ears. The gunfire did little to even slow its descent. It slammed into Dylan, knocking the prophet down. Hunching over him, it bore fangs, already dripping blood. He put his right arm up to shield his face, and the bat-like creature bit into Dylan’s arm and tore skin off, causing the prophet to scream in agony.

  As the fiend reared its head up to savor the taste of flesh, hookswords pierced its
shoulder blades and yanked it forward, smashing the thing’s chin into Lao Shi’s waiting right foot. Its head snapped back, and Matt, who had positioned himself behind the demon, yanked the hair on the top of its head and slit its neck with his dagger. And, in a fluid motion, Matt plunged the blade into the side of its head.

  “Can you stop the bleeding?” Matt asked of Dylan.

  “Ugh,” Dylan grunted. “Maybe,” he replied through gritted teeth, “but that fucker ripped off a lot of skin.”

  “Try,” Matt replied.

  “Look,” Lao Shi directed Matt’s attention to the gate of the castle.

  Matt looked, and the first thing he noticed was how sparse the battlefield was looking. Bodies of humans and demons cluttered the ground. Matt could now make out Garrett’s figure, still in the middle of a horde of demons. His mace was flying through the air, and, as opposed to attacking him, most of the demons were dodging blows or retreating.

  Then, Matt saw what Lao Shi had noticed. Alex was running out of the gate, and a pillar of fire followed closely behind him. Immediately, Jeremiah was engaged with another demon. Matt watched as a demon rushed toward Alex. The prophet held out his hand, and the fallen angel halted, turned, and pounced on its nearest ally.

  “They’re out,” Matt said with relief.

  But his eyes fell on something that took the momentary relief away. There was something floating through the battle. It almost looked to be a shadow, black and insubstantial. Its shape was shifty, airy. Circumventing the middle of the fray, no doubt to avoid the demon hunter, it passed through Matt’s mercenaries and left nothing but skeletons behind, which crumbled to the ground. It did not even stop for demons. When it floated through them, they simply ceased to be. After each body that the cloud of darkness consumed, it got larger and moved faster. Matt realized, with mounting horror, that it was on a direct course to them, leaving only death in its wake.

  “What the fuck is that?” Matt gasped, pointing at the cloud.

  “That,” Lao Shi answered gravely, “is Metatron.”

  ***

  Jeremiah had made it to Garrett, and the two were slaughtering demons with speed and precision. But they both knew this engagement couldn’t go on forever, and, eventually, the demons would overtake them. Something had to be done to get the remainder of the mercenaries and the prophets to safety.

  “Jeremiah,” Alex yelled, “we have to get out of here.”

  “I’m working on it,” boomed his voice from the fire.

  Alex scanned the battle for signs of the other prophets, and when he found them, his heart sank. He’d never seen it before, but he knew the cloud approaching them was Metatron, and it was almost on top of them. Matt was struggling with someone on the ground—Dylan, Alex decided. And Lao Shi could not be seen. Alex realized that, if the Lama had not already fallen, he was probably in a direct path of Metatron, explaining why Alex couldn’t see him. He looked to Jeremiah and Garrett, who were occupied. The prophet knew there was no other option. He dropped his head to make a quick prayer, and then he disappeared.

  ***

  “Get him out of here,” Lao Shi commanded of Matt. “I’ll delay Metatron.”

  “No,” said Matt. “I’m not going to let you die.”

  “You cannot stop this, Matt,” Lao Shi replied coolly. “This is what is meant to happen. You must get Dylan away. All three of us should not die here. I will hold this demon off as long as I can.”

  “Maybe--” Matt began.

  “Matt!” Lao Shi roared. “Leave, now.”

  Matt looked down and pulled Dylan up off of the ground. They started to run, but Matt couldn’t help himself. He turned to tell Lao Shi to just run, but he couldn’t bring himself to it.

  Lao Shi dropped his swords, walked forward five steps, pressed his hands together, and bowed his head. “You destroyed my master, Metatron. In his name, I command you to--”

  But there was no more. The cloud engulfed him, and, for a moment, Matt was hopeful. He thought Metatron might have slowed just a little, but if the demon’s speed reduced at all, it was almost impossible to determine. Lao Shi’s skeleton dropped to the ground behind the cloud, and Metatron’s momentum quickened.

  “Run faster!” Matt screamed at Dylan. Matt aimed his machine gun at the demon in a last-ditch effort, when, in a flash, someone was standing between him and Metatron.

  Alex said nothing. He merely held out his hand, and the cloud overtook him, as well. But Metatron was no longer moving toward Matt and Dylan. The fog of death had stopped.

  “No!” Matt cried and fell to his knees, looking helplessly into the cloud.

  “Have faith, Matt,” a gruff voice next to him advised.

  Matt looked up and saw Garrett standing close by. The old hunter was bleeding from several cuts on his face, and there was blood seeping out of a puncture in his left thigh. Both of his arms had long gashes, and his clothes were even more ragged and torn than usual.

  “He isn’t dead yet. It is a contest of will now,” Garrett continued. The hunter nodded solemnly. “This is a battle that had to happen.”

  “Help him,” Matt demanded.

  “No,” Garrett replied shortly. “It’s not my fight. He defeated Metatron once, and he can do it again.”

  “Jeremiah!” Matt yelled.

  “And that one is too far away,” observed the Hunter General. “There will be no help from there either.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Matt hissed. “You’re going to let him die.”

  Garrett looked down at Matt curiously, then back at the cloud. “You lack faith. That is why he’s in there, and not you.”

  “You should be in there, and not him,” returned Matt.

  Garrett tossed the shard from the sword of Lucifer down next to Matt. “Give that back to Abigail. My new apprentice and I are done here. I hope that your faith grows, but I regret that I will never see it. Our part in your fight is over.” With that, he turned and slightly limped away. “Dylan,” he said, “we shall leave now.”

  ***

  “Oh, Alex,” Metatron’s voice boomed from all around the prophet, “you should not have intervened.”

  “It’s love,” Alex said. “And it’s something I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  “It seems that you have no love for yourself.”

  Alex concentrated, but he was becoming very cold. “God will protect me.”

  “Yes,” Metatron replied softly. “It would appear that He will. No matter. I will kill everyone whom you care for in your stead.”

  “No,” returned the prophet. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Angels have tried to stop me and failed,” Metatron told Alex.

  Alex could feel Metatron try to move away, but without success. It was a huge strain to keep the demon contained to this one spot, and the prophet didn’t know if he could hold on much longer. He knew he had to try, though. If Metatron got away, anyone close would die.

  “Perhaps, they didn’t fail, Metatron,” Alex mused. “Perhaps, they left you for me.”

  ***

  Matt was knocked backward as a column of light erupted from the center of the cloud. And his ears were filled with the sounds of countless indecipherable screams. Then, as quickly as the light had appeared, it was gone. The cloud had shrunk considerably, and it floated, high above the ground, toward the castle. Alex was lying on the ground, motionless. Matt crawled over toward him, but Jeremiah beat him there. He was in his human form, and he looked exhausted.

  Hoisting Alex up over his shoulder, Jeremiah said, “We need to get out of here fast.”

  Matt looked up, but the demon had already passed him and was headed for the convoy.

  “Shouldn’t we order a retreat?” Matt asked Jeremiah’s back.

  “There’s no need,” Jeremiah returned without emotion. “They’re all dead.”

  Matt looked back to where the battle had taken place. So many demons still stood. Matt realized that little had been accomplished. Carcasses of
men he had trained littered the ground, and he felt completely responsible for their deaths. The surviving demons stood over the bodies. They were probably stunned by the fight that had taken place. It was likely that a commando squad of mortals and prophets had never occurred to them to be any real threat, and the retreat of Metatron surely gave them cause to stop and evaluate their positions. But it didn’t take long for several of them to make up their minds to chase down the remaining foes.

  Matt got up, grabbed the blade that Garrett had dropped, and sprinted after Jeremiah, shoving his guilt far away from the business at hand. He could only try to make amends later. If later ever came.

  “We need cover fire,” he yelled at the remaining mercenaries fortifying the convoy.

  Bullets and RPGs flew past him into the oncoming demon horde.

  Upon arriving, Jeremiah quickly counted the only mercenaries who were left. Fifteen.

  “We’ll only need one truck and the van,” he explained as he opened the back door to the van.

  Elizabeth looked at him, startled. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re leaving,” Jeremiah answered, setting Alex’s body into the back with her. “Come on, Matt,” he yelled. “The rest of you,” he commanded, indicating the mercenaries, “get into the truck. Follow us, and don’t stop for any reason. We have to outrun them.”

  With that, Jeremiah ran around to the driver’s side of the van, started the engine and peeled out. The mercenaries ran for the armored car. Both the van and the armored car were laboring to get out of the grass and onto the dirt road, which would take them to a nearby highway.

  Matt leapt into the back of the van just as it climbed onto the road. He closed the doors behind him, leaned over Alex, and saw that the prophet was breathing, but shallowly.

  “Will he be all right?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Jeremiah replied. “Are the soldiers behind us?”

  Matt looked out the back window and saw the armored car, now also on the road, picking up pace. “Yes,” he said. “Those who are still alive. But they’re moving slowly.”