They spread out in a fan, intending to circle me. I took short, sharp breaths, unable to watch them all at once, unable to fly without knowing how long I could remain in the air.
A breath of wind whistled in my ear, along with the soft rush of a warhammer through air. I ducked low and the barbed end sailed just over my head, ripping out a few strands of my hair as it passed.
I thrust backwards blindly, using the momentum to avoid the hammer blow coming from the front, and felt the ebonite dagger punch through metal and meet the soft give of flesh.
The Sin Eater behind me gasped. I ripped the blade away and spun around him, kicking up a torrent of sand with my heels.
One gloved hand was pressed over his belly, but the blood was an endless torrent, soaking into the sand at his feet.
“Work for it,” I whispered, and slashed upwards, finding the thin line where his helmet and cuirass were separated and digging in deep with my blade.
I felt the satisfying scrape of my dagger on the bone of his spinal cord, and the Sin Eater dropped like a sack of bricks, spilling his lifeblood out into the wastes.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” I spread my arms wide, flicking blood off my knives. “This doesn’t end well for you.”
There was one perk to being a small human-born angel in this world. Nobody here took me seriously.
That was their downfall.
The Sin Eater with the sword laughed. “We want to keep going. We won’t stop until we’ve skewered you.”
He kept the insults going in a stream after that, naming all the ways in which they were planning to gut, skin, and mutilate my body. I nodded like I was listening, but my eyes kept moving, taking in all the weak points: their armor was flimsy and thin. The leader with the warhammer tended to favor his left side and had a slight limp, and the bloodthirsty fucker with a sword was now blind on his right.
I jerked to the side when the asshole lunged towards me, barely missing my side with his wild swing. A warhammer came crashing down, and I danced to the left, moving downhill with the flow of the sand.
Never bring a dagger to a swordfight. I would’ve happily given my left arm for a whole and intact Sword of Light at this moment. The first Sin Eater had been stupid enough to give me an opening, but I was going to have a Hell of a time getting within their long reach.
I reached up and yanked my hairpin out, skipping backwards to avoid another swing of the warhammer.
“You can’t dance all day, bitch.” The swordsman descended, raising his blade and bringing it down in a mighty stroke.
The tip grazed my arm, ripping through my sleeve and opening a line of red on my flesh. I drew in a hissing breath, losing all grace for a moment in my scramble to get out of reach, and the pain was a white-hot brand against my skin.
But I still had my arm, and that was the main point. I jabbed and sliced at his exposed side, jamming my hairpin in his shoulder, but the Sin Eater whirled around and kicked sand in my face, temporarily blinding me.
I snapped my wings open as hard as I could, hearing splints snap and bandages rip, and burst upwards.
A distant ache traveled through the bones of my wing, but the asshole missed with his next swing. I heard him curse as I wiped sand from my face, letting tears well up to wash it out of my eyes.
I didn’t have much time before the ache became real pain, but now we were fighting on my terms.
I ignored his threats to rape me with the sword as I took stock. I had the ebonite blade, but I needed more length.
There was a dagger that bordered on being considered a short sword in my left thigh sheath. I pulled it out and traded it to my right hand, considering how best to drop on him.
The Sin Eaters circled beneath me, their taunts running dry. I was sure they weren’t lacking for insults, but rather they knew I would tire soon. My splints and bandages lay across the sand, clear evidence that I wouldn’t be remaining up here for long.
A distant shadow caught my eye. I just needed a little more time.
But first off, I wanted to take out the Sin Eater who thought threatening to rape me was a good idea. Very bad idea, bitch.
Pumping my wings as hard as I dared, I began to circle overhead like a vulture awaiting a meal, forcing them to move around to keep their eyes on me. It was easy enough to coast on the breeze every half-circle, resting the unused muscles in my shoulder, and when the swordsman took a step back, steadying himself… I knew it was my time.
I shot forward, pushing myself harder and harder, and pulled sideways, banking unexpectedly.
He was still turning to catch up when I plunged, landing with my heels on his shoulders and driving the long dagger straight down through the top of his skull with a sharp crack.
We went down hard under the force of impact. I flapped to catch myself and keep from flying face-first into the sand, but his corpse toppled facedown. I left my dagger where it was, buried in his head.
The leader let out a low growl, slowly swinging the hammer like a pendulum and letting it build up speed.
I straightened up and faced him, smiling.
“What do you have to smile about, cunt? Let’s wipe it right off your ugly face.” A howling sound filled the air as he began whipping the warhammer harder, preparing to smash it into my skull.
A golden mountain crested the dune behind him, spilling downwards with liquid grace. The Sin Eater snarled something else at me, but his words were lost when Belial’s jaws descended and clamped around him.
The warhammer flew from his hand and buried itself in the sand. My mate’s aqua eyes were sparking pure fury as he growled, the rumble rolling across the wastelands like thunder.
Only the Sin Eater’s jerking legs were visible, sticking out from between enormous ivory fangs. Belial bit down.
There was a neat crunch of breaking bones. The legs fell to the ground, followed by a spill of guts and blood.
Belial spat out the Sin Eater’s upper body. The demon knight was still moving, covered in blood and saliva, but trying to crawl away with frantic movements.
My Prince looked at him contemplatively, then put a massive paw on him and pushed down.
When he lifted it, the Sin Eater was no longer moving. He didn’t look much like a demon anymore either, more like a wet red pancake of armor and flesh.
“HE CALLED YOU A CUNT.”
I sheathed my ebonite dagger and picked my way around the bodies to hug Belial’s cheek, rubbing my face against his soft fur. “I’m sure I’ll be called worse things, and I’m sure you’ll flatten them for it.”
“IF THEY EVEN LOOK AT YOU WRONG, I WILL EAT THEM.”
“That’s disgusting.” I kissed the broad plane on top of his nose. “I have to kiss that mouth.”
A tall shape stepped around Belial and I jerked back, but forced myself to calm down and stay put. My mate wouldn’t have allowed any unseen stragglers to survive.
Instead, I was greeted with a surprising sight: Adranos, the new Prince of Treachery. His black horns gleamed like the obsidian of Dis under the crimson sun, matching the same velvet black of his hair and leathery wings.
“Lady Wrath,” he said, inclining his head. I made myself give him a shallow bow; he was, after all, a Prince now.
A Prince in the exact same boat as Tascius, now that I thought of it. Two Nephilim with very different bloodlines, finding themselves forced into new roles because of that blood.
I hadn’t given Adranos so much as a thought since the fateful day Satan had escaped.