‘You can come with me.’ Jet snapped at the lieutenant. He bound the man’s fat wrists behind his back with silver. He made little spikes grow from the silver and they grew into the angel’s hands and arm. The man whimpered, but he gritted his teeth and stared the heartless demon down. Jet grinned inwardly and transformed into a beautiful Aryan human glamour. His blonde hair fell listlessly into his eyes and his green eyes were piercingly cold. His pale skin shimmered with the beauty of an angel and the lieutenant grimaced, closing his eyes against the wolf in sheep skin.
‘Come now, wouldn’t you like to be with your men as they are killed? Give them words of hope, for me. Watch them draw their last breaths. You know who’s killing them?’ Jet whispered in the man’s ears, Jet’s voice ringing in his ears like feedback from an amplifier. Jet pushed the man forwards, a cold hand on his shoulder. He trembled at the tainted touch. He had managed to avoid this demon for so long. Now he had failed. Not only had he failed himself, but the rest of the angels he had been hiding with. He hung his head in shame and tried to hide his pain.
Jet drunk in his suffering and his grin only widened as he felt the man try to hide it.
‘Oh, I have a little surprise for you later.’ He muttered as they climbed the stairs to the floor that Tristan was on. The man didn’t dare ask what the “surprise” would be. He could guess. Jet set a shield around the three of them as they reached Tristan’s floor. Five angels were already dead and the other ten were battling on against this one figure. Tristan was backed into a corner and he was injured. There was a pang of concern for him from Alice, but he ignored it.
Tristan had managed to kill some, while they were attempting to bargain with him. They were trying to tell him he would be forgiven for any sins he had already committed and they would teach him how to use his powers. He didn’t have to do this. But Jet was winning the war. He had been so confident that he would win whichever side Tristan was on. The teen had only just met his father and within a few hours, he was being trained to kill half his blood relatives mercilessly. But he couldn’t do it so carelessly, the way his father – the way his mother now could. He was less than a metre away from a dead end corridor, almost cornered. Tears streamed down his face from the pain and the guilt that racked his consciousness.
A sword had made sharp contact with his side earlier, and he was now bleeding freely from a gash in his abdomen. He gulped and fought against the pain, but he didn’t try to heal it. Jet’s presence filled the corridor and he knew that the demon would be watching.
‘Heal yourself!’ he heard the cry from behind the demon. His mother. He shook his head and a few tears fell loose as he moved. He nocked another arrow and pulled back, aiming at the chest of the angel nearest him. He loosed the arrow and it thunked into the angel’s ribcage and he fell, a shocked expression on his face.
The angel collapsed on the floor, sprawling and tripping the other angels, clamouring to put an end to the fight. Jet grinned and reached into the fallen angel, keeping his heart beating for a few minutes. He forced the lieutenant over to this angel and forced the man to apologise for his failings. He sobbed and begged and pleaded with the dying angel, with Jet, with Alice. He tried to call out to the other angels, but they couldn’t hear his cries. Jet laughed and took the angel’s soul, watching gleefully as the body shuddered into a lifeless stillness that haunted their end of the corridor. The lieutenant turned and raged at Jet, wordless shouts and screams.
‘Come on. It could have been worse.’ Jet sneered. ‘Don’t be such a fucking baby!’ Alice laughed emptily, her eyes fixed on Tristan. Jet looked at her sideways. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. Go to your baby. Don’t help him kill them. Just heal him, since he seems to be completely incompetent.’