‘Look at that. Half angel. Hah. Not so bloody angelic, is he?’ Jet said to the lieutenant with a note of glee in his voice. The lieutenant took in the teen’s ragged form, hunched over and cowering from the angels that were attacking him. Alice fought her way through, injuring the angels in her way. He cringed as the half angel hybrid struck down another angel. The body was dragged along the floor, out of the way, towards Jet. He was dead, but the lieutenant grimaced.
‘I hate when they go straight to heaven.’ Jet sniffed, looking around for the soul. ‘No fun.’ The demon looked at his rival and smiled, his pale lips pulling back over shiny pearly teeth. ‘Looking forward to your surprise?’
‘No, not really.’ The angel replied with as much venom in his voice as possible.
‘So tell me,’ Jet began, talking as casually as if they were sitting at a cafe, watching the passing people, instead of the slaughter of a group of angels, ‘what was it like, having to abandon so many of your angels, just to avoid me? Did they call out to you? Did they beg you to stay, threaten you?’ Jet’s voice became a menacing whisper again as he talked, only just audible over the clash of swords and shouting angels.
‘They knew the plan. I was to get out alive no matter what; I was the best leader they had since Gabriel fell.’ The lieutenant stood up straight in Jet’s gaze and stared defiantly into his cold green eyes. Jet nodded and watched with amusement as the angels began to realise that this puny untrained teen was defeating them. A few tried to turn and run back down the corridor, but Jet blocked them back, a clear shield blocking off any escape. Jet pushed the lieutenant up against the shield and forced his eyes open to watch as blood spattered against the air in front of him. A few angels pounded against the shield, but it was harder than bullet proof glass. The more they panicked, the more energy Jet could collect to maintain the shield.
‘Please help us!’ one of the angels cried to the lieutenant. Jet laughed and relaxed the barrier around that one angel. As the angel hit the shield, it began to waver and the two angels stiffened in surprise. Jet heard the thought. ‘Maybe he’s not as strong as he makes us think he is!’
He let the angel through and the glimmer of hope that sprouted in their hearts grew as he pulled another angel through the gap.
The lieutenant struggled against his silver bonds and managed to break them with a little effort, though the burrs buried themselves deeper in his arms for it. He laughed and created a machete, advancing on Jet. The other two angels were beaming at each other as they also advanced. Jet shrunk away from them and the three formed a quick mental plan to bring him down. The demon was weak; he had only got this far by bluffing.
Jet looked at the burly angel, a pleading look glimmering faintly in his eyes. He was backed up against the wall, like Tristan at the other end of the hallway. The three angels crowded around him, the lieutenant brandishing his sword with a grin.
‘I’m not a fan of violence, but you understand killing you will be a pleasure, don’t you Jet?’ the man said. The other angel’s faces were fixed in a grim, stoic expression. They were only part of this because they had to be. Jet nodded.
‘I understand.’ He said quietly, his voice quiet and tremulous. As the man spoke, Jet reached into the minds of the two angels, connecting them to the silver in the lieutenant’s arms. They looked at each other oddly and shook their heads, unsure of what they had felt. The brawny angel noticed nothing but the look of fear painted convincingly upon Jet’s face. He breathed in deeply, lifting his sword. He pumped it full of magic and thrust forward with the intention of hitting Jet straight on...
But less than an inch from Jet’s face, the silver suddenly froze his arms. It bubbled angrily for a second, before erupting in strands of flesh and silver. The sword in the angel’s hand fell to the floor and dissolved, and the silver pulled around towards the two angels behind him, wrapping around their struggling bodies. The strands pushed into their angelic bodies and coiled around their internal organs, crushing until each one was burst. They fell to the floor, pulling the lieutenant with them.
The silver broke and returned to his own body, wrapping gently around his limbs so he could hardly move. Jet took a step forward, over the immobilised body. His glamour reformed, his hair matching his name, the muscles in his tanned arms becoming more prominent. His clothes returned to his favourite jeans and black top, the sleeves ripped off. He pulled the silver strands into his hands and muttered:
‘I’m bored of you now.’
He drew the angel’s soul along the silver into him, putting it with all the other angel’s souls forcing him to watch each one suffer.
‘Your little surprise. Look at how many of your friends I have here. They’re all dying to see you again.’ Jet murmured to the body as it shuddered. Cold swept into the place of his soul and the body sagged a little, dead. Jet looked up, staring past the walls, within himself. He placed silver chains over the angel’s soul and displayed each of his friend’s suffering like a masquerade ball.
He looked down the corridor and wondered absently how Tristan was doing with his training.