Angels of War (Angels of War Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  The angel appeared from the trees and found herself at a cliff. She peered down its sheer drop. Vertigo swept her for a second, her lower belly tightened. Her eyes held the darkness beneath her. She took a deep breath, pushed the wonder from her mind and leaped off the one hundred foot drop.

  Maria fell. To her surprise she settled on her feet like an eagle. She sprinted a mile down a road and reached a small village. Once in the village she followed the girl’s sweet voice until she discovered a tiny house as the source of the exquisite song. At the window stood the girl, her mouth opened, the muscles in her throat flexed. Her vocal cords pumped out a tune powerful enough to set worlds right.

  Maria turned to face the black starless skies. From a distance dark clouds rolled from the north like thunderheads birthing a storm. Villager’s cries and shouts broke the serene music. People pointed at the night skies and ran into their homes. The girl’s beautiful voice stopped its song like someone turned off a generator’s power. Her eyes widened, a short woman pulled her away from the window and slammed the shutters close.

  Maria ran up to the house and knocked a fist against the door. The voice ordered her to kick in the thin dirty screen and the weak wooden door to the house. She ignored the voice and knocked several times to no avail. She stole a glance at the skies. The cloud changed its trajectory. In the distance, the dark swollen mass descended for the tiny home.

  Within the clouds flashed several horses. Hooves and dull metal broke from the clouds. Her heart beat hard in her chest, this time the voice screamed in her mind.

  “Walk through the door,” Joan said.

  Maria stepped through the particleboard door.

  Once inside the home, the angel spotted two family members rush into a back room. The Key stood in a short hall, frozen, her eyes wide and teary. Maria blinked her own eyes. Her head swooned as if she turned in circles several times. The entire event rushed in on her. She became angry at her slowness to accept the event.

  The heavy door in her mind swung open. Beyond the door sat her armor. She reached for her helmet made from pure silver and etched with doves. On its top sat a white vertical fan plume. Next, she grabbed her breastplate. The upper armor fitted over her torso and covered her muscled abdomen in detailed silver decorated with doves and lotuses.

  An armored silver skirt wrapped around her waist. Silver greaves covered her forearms and shins. Caligae, the brown Roman sandals, graced her pretty feet. Her wings pushed out from her back, huge and powerful like a dove. Her sword appeared at her right side.

  The jeweled sword hilt sparkled with colorful precious stones. She flapped her wings from behind her to actualize their existence.

  A tiny gasp escaped Maria’s full lips. She ran her fingers over the silver armor she wore. The lotus flowers and doves etched into its delicate yet tough metal caught her attention with its rich detail. Every muscle in her body hardened, her butt tightened and hard muscle rippled along her long thighs and arms.

  The loopy dizziness subsided within her head. She took three slow breaths to calm her nerves and prepare her mind for whatever wickedness approached from above.

  Immortal power coursed through her muscles like white fire. She stared into the Key’s eyes and determined the beasts hurtling from the skies targeted her. Maria foresaw this, as if someone pushed the thought into her mind. Maria needed to rescue the girl. Her hands, slender and strong, ached to fight. Sour doubt whispered in her head. Her fighting skills diminished after so many centuries adrift as a mortal.

  “Jump in there and fight,” Joan said. Her angelic voice filled Maria’s head.

  Maria left hand grasped her sword hilt. Her brown eyes locked on the skinny girl.

  The house trembled from the foundation to the eaves as the front wall exploded in glass, splinters, and flames. Maria pushed the girl away with one hand.

  The little one slid across the cracked linoleum floor, up the hall, and stopped between the old man and woman. The lights in the house flickered. Dust swirled in the sulfur-filled air. With her left hand, Maria drew her perfect blade forged in Heaven.

  Five undead Roman soldiers burst from the dust and smoke. They screamed and wielded ancient weapons. The first one drew back his battleax. Maria swung her blade, slicing off its head with an awkward stroke. She needed to move faster and cut cleaner.

  Maria lifted her sword and gave a war cry as the other four attacked. Her strong voice cracked the cold concrete foundation. She bolted forward to fight the soldiers who intended to steal the Key. Their blades struck against hers. Their weapons clanged and crashed. Maria fought hard and pushed the enemy back from the Key. She knocked them off balance and beheaded the first two soldiers in one stroke.

  Their bodies fell against the two who tried to flank her. She leaped forward and drove her blade into the one on her left, twisted the weapon, retrieved her blade and lopped off his head. Without hesitation she struck his partner down. Her bright blade cleaved his skull in half. The body dropped at her feet.

  Maria stood over the bodies as they vanished. Her arms trembled from adrenalin. She steadied her sword. Its edge still shimmered. She gazed at the hole blown into the house.

  Outside rain began to fall.

  The angel turned to face the girl whose huge brown eyes, wet with tears, seemed far older than what her body proclaimed her to be. Maria swept the shattered living space with keen eyes. Sniffles rose from a room in the house, joined by soft prayers. She crossed the room to the Key.

  “We need to go, child,” Maria said. “Or you may die here.”

  “My name is Lucia and I don’t want my caretakers to die. Your job is to protect them also.”

  Maria sheathed her bright sword. Again, she did a quick pause to admire her armor before she turned towards Lucia. “Tell them to leave now and don’t lecture me about my job little girl. A bigger problem is headed our way.”

  Lucia rolled her eyes and stomped into the small room where the old couple hid. Rapid fire Spanish spilled from the room. Maria listened to a voice refuse the option the Key offered. A more desperate conversation ensued in Spanish. The three came out the room. The old woman shook her head in vehemence, the old man’s face set firm in a defiant scowl.

  Maria flinched as the voice in her head rose to a terrified shriek. She drew her sword, the lights within the tiny house flickered out to bathe them all in darkness. “Lucia, let’s go now.”

  “One more…”

  The explosion rocked the entire home. The concrete floor buckled, the farthest wall from the bedroom fell away in smoke and splinters. A huge and fowl entity crashed into the home. Maria’s sword flashed a bright silver light as the beast rushed at her with a black sword in hand. The air thickened with sulfur and dust from her powerful black wings.

  Her scream pierced Maria’s ears as her tall body adorned in black armor dominated the small home. Her left hand covered in armor struck the angel. The blow hurtled Maria through a far wall.

  Maria landed outside the house. Joan’s shout edged with anger flooded Maria’s head. She scrambled to her feet and plunged through the hole her body made in the wall. Once inside the home, she faced a demon with drawn sword held over the Key’s caretakers. She remembered the beast, a once gorgeous angel.

  Maria steadied her weapon. The steel flashed as light undulated off its honed edge. “Black Angel, step away from them.”

  Black Angel smiled and pointed her ebony blade at the couple huddled in a corner. “I want the Key. Even trade, Maria. I take the Key, and these two stay alive,” she said.

  Maria gazed into the frightened couple’s tear streaked eyes. Black Angel’s blade sat inches from their old bodies. “May God keep you in his loving grace for all eternity.”

  Black Angel drove her sword into their soft round frames like a skewer. Lucia’s screams ripped across the tepid air. The elder couple shrieked in pain. Their arms and legs flailed. The huge she-devil flung her arm and tossed their plump bodies through the house.

  Their corp
ses landed outside in the muck. Black Angel met Maria’s eyes.

  “Joan made a mistake in choosing you,” she said.

  Maria raised her sword. She gave a shout and attacked. The centuries slipped away from her mind. Their blades clashed. Sparks flew as the two hosts, one from the fertile lands of Heaven, the other from the sulfur-strewn Hell, fought a bitter battle.

  The two beings circled and parried, thrust and lunged, hacked and chopped away at each other until their fight led them outside the small home and into the muddy road. White lightening flashed from the cloud-choked skies. Rain and strong winds lashed the two warriors. Both took flight into the air. Their wings worked hard as they fought to gain an advantage over the other.

  Maria blocked a blow meant for her head. She kicked Black Angel in her armor-covered chest. The demon plunged to the ground. Maria followed and let off another mighty shout. Her sword flashed as she raised the weapon above her helmeted head. Black Angel rolled away as Maria’s blade plowed into the wet earth. Black Angel regained her footing, swung her weapon towards Maria’s head. The angel dodged the blow.

  Black Angel leaped away from Maria and dashed to the house. The she-devil cut her blade through the pillars to make the roof collapse in on Lucia who curled into a tighter ball on the fractured concrete floor.

  Lucia unrolled herself, dashed away and found another position for shelter. Splintered wood cracked like gunfire. Maria rushed forward, blind with rage and worry. Black Angel emerged from the house, a wild smile spread over her face.

  Maria did not realize Lucia would live forever, no matter what landed on her. She confronted Black Angel and worried about Lucia. Maria hesitated. Black Angel flicked her dangerous sword and severed Maria’s sword hand.

  The she-devil continued her attack without pause. She hacked off Maria’s other arm. The angel stumbled back, eyes wide in fear and shock. Black Angel sliced again.

  Maria ducked, not fast enough. Black Angel’s sword cut through her helmet and sliced her head clean at the crown. Black hair connected to bloody flesh and silver metal flipped to the ground. Black Angel circled Maria and kicked the shocked angel toward the shattered house.

  Maria’s world spun in a mad loop. She stumbled along the mud-slopped ground like a drunk. She tripped over a lip on the concrete foundation and fell. With no appendages to support her fall, she landed headfirst on the hard floor. Black Angel’s tough laughter echoed into her ears. Her eyes beheld a deep blackness before she slipped into its murky depths.

  Black Angel rushed into the house. She snatched Lucia’s hair, yanked her up underneath her arm and kicked a hole in the back wall. She escaped the house as the walls collapsed on Maria.

  Lucia stared at Black Angel’s flat stone eyes. She remained powerless against the demon’s strong grip. A black steed galloped from the dark clouds and hung suspended waiting for its master. The she-devil’s wings flapped hard propelling her up into the air.

  The Key struggled, kicked her legs, and sank white teeth into Black Angel’s dead skin. She gagged and vomited as her captor mounted the horrid animal. Black Angel kicked back her spurs and drove the warhorse into the sky. Up the three went until they became specks against the night.

  Joan flew fast and hard. The rains whipped against her wings. Strong winds buffeted her face as she raced across the dark skies. She appeared like lightning against the cloud-clustered night. She arrived on the Mexico City battleground and ran towards the battered house.

  Villagers surrounded the place where the fight raged earlier. Many sank to their knees in the mud and muck. They prayed and burned candles. Joan, adorned in her full armor, hurried across the soft earth towards the home.

  Joan ignored the masses as she folded in her white wings. She reached the jumbled wood, cinderblock, and corrugated steel. With strong hands she tore away the debris until she uncovered a smooth brown leg slick with rainwater and blood. She dug at a quicker pace until Maria’s body appeared, curled up in the fetal position. Her skull sheared clean at the crown. Gray brain matter glistened like an autopsy cross section.

  Her left hand and her right arm lost as well. Blood pooled around the open skull. Joan knelt, hefted the angel to an upright position, and shook her.

  “Maria, awake. Your head is still attached. Awake.” Maria’s eyes fluttered open. The angel opened her mouth and let out a horrible scream. Her eyes rolled up until the whites showed.

  “Good, awake,” Joan said. “Regenerate. Bear the pain.” Maria let out another scream. Her body convulsed in Joan’s arms.

  Maria’s crown grew back. Brain, bone, flesh, and black hair returned. Her right arm grew and slumped around Joan’s waist. Maria’s left hand reappeared. Once done, Maria vomited and passed out.

  Joan stood with the mud-splattered angel carried in her arms. She spread her wings upon her back. Hands from the villagers reached out and touched the silk soft feathers and her hardened armor. She jumped into the air and pushed herself upwards until she vanished into the rain heavy clouds.

  27

  The morning sun rose bright over Washington D.C. Thick black smoke rolled above the city. Sporadic gunfire echoed off buildings. Soldiers and tanks surrounded the White House and all its other related structures. Barbed wire fences, sandbags, and concrete barriers created a tight perimeter around the White House along with guard towers occupied by snipers.

  Helicopter gunships hovered over the White House as fighter jets patrolled the skies. The city burned six blocks away. Tanks and troops recaptured the most violent areas and quelled the civil unrest. The turbulent crowds once gathered at the White House a day before no longer clung to its black gates for safety.

  Joan sat in a large battle room forty stories underneath the White House surrounded by angels and military officers. Special Forces soldiers from Task Force Gold Shield, senators and various other groups attended the meeting. Two hundred people packed the theater type room to capacity. Forty high-ranked people sat at the table located in the spacious battle room. The others found seats in plush chairs within the theater.

  President Wallace arrived on time. He wore a dark suit, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and a loosened black tie and khaki pants. All fell silent and stood once he took his place at the long conference table. Earlier in the day, Joan told him the news about the Key, and he did not like what she said. He wanted to nuke the entire Los Angeles area and return to clean up the mess later.

  President Wallace took his seat and everyone in the room followed. He folded his heavy hands, straightened his back, and made every effort to present himself as though he still controlled the country. He glanced down at the red folder, the same folder everyone else in the room read earlier.

  “Here we go,” he whispered to Joan who sat closest to him. He stood and everyone fell silent. Behind him hung a flat screen television with a digital United States map displayed. Each state and their respective counties all color-coded red or green for security reasons. “New York is green and its citizens turned Manhattan into an armed fortress. Newark is green. Charlotte is red, along with Atlanta. Our entire Midwest is hanging strong.”

  Raymond pulled out a laser pointer. He played a red dot over the map. “The entire northern half of California is a mixed bag. Some people escaping, and a few joining the other side. Someone broke into several California National Guard armories and managed to get their hands on tanks, helicopters, and other military hardware.”

  He gazed into the faces before him. “Within the past twenty-four hours this country experienced the worst emergency in history,” he said. “The reality struck us yesterday, when Lord Goth made demands this country will not meet, and the fact the enemy tried to assassinate me last night.”

  Wallace pressed a button on the laser pointer. Lord Wrath’s picture appeared, the one taken by UAV. Gasps fluttered throughout the room.

  “The situation is almost desperate after losing the Key, whose real name is Lucia. Training for Task Force Gold Shield is a priority. Let me introduc
e you to Joan, Maria, Okura, and Daisy Lane,” the president said.

  Each angel responded with a curt nod. The entire room riveted their eyes on the four angels dressed in casual clothes.

  Wallace turned off the pointer and placed the device down. “General Black will fill you in.”

  General Black stood and approached the map. He glanced back at the digital screen and turned to the people seated at the table. “The Marines are moving from Camp Pendleton soon, and they are taking every piece of equipment they can. The fight in Los Angeles left them without the support and sufficient arms needed to sustain a heavy fight.”

  He walked over to the digital map on the wall. “Denver,” he said. He flicked the pointer, the map changed from Wrath’s gruesome face to a satellite image. He zoomed the camera in on Colorado, and highlighted Denver, and along the Rocky Mountains.

  “The Marines procured enough fuel and arms to make the trip to Denver. Fighter jets will be flying out first as escorts.”

  From the audience Colonel Bowmen raised his hand, the general nodded in his direction. “What are the chances the oppositional forces will attack the Marines?”

  “High. At the moment, we are concentrating on getting the Marines out of California, and fortifying Denver as soon as possible. Denver is our line in the sand folks.”

  Joan took in the general’s words as she worked on a plan to save the Key. Maria’s fight brought a strong reality to her. The angels faced a grim problem, they needed to train and make their skills stronger. Black Angel’s fighting talent revealed she trained hard for the invasion. On the opposite side, Maria woke from a mortal slumber akin to being brain dead.

  Joan laid a hand on Maria’s shoulder in reassurance. No one blamed her for the Key’s abduction. They all needed to practice and train Task Force Gold Shield for the battle.

  “…Joan, do you want to add anything?”