Downtown Hell

Chapter Twelve

Anabiel had resisted longer that I expected. She had refused to tell us about Michaels' plans, but when the hellfire touched her, her defence had quickly crumbled.

Michael was hunting down the four horsemen to imprison them in heaven. They were essential to start the apocalypse, and he wanted to control their powers for his own advantage.

Lucifer had immediatly sent me out to warn them and get them to hell, so now I was looking for the first one.

War.

By now, I could see demonic and angelic auras, so finding him shouldn't be too hard.

I had been told he was last seen in Spain, so that's where I was headed, a shimmering illusion around myself to not draw any attention. I let my hair and skin look as dark as the natives' and made my face look less bruised from the training. It would have been easier if I was in control of my healing powers, but they seemed to randomly appear or disappear.

Right now, I was in a small town on the sea-side. There were some small tourist groups taking pictures, old and run-down buildings and a gravelly beach. The asphalt of the road that ran through the town was shimmering with heat.

I had sensed a strong supernatural presence here and I wasn't mistaken. A blood-red aura surrounded one of the older houses, flickering and vibrating with power. Found you, I thought, grinning.

The house only had one small front door, so I opened it with a nudge of my powers and slid inside.

It was a little less hot inside and I noticed a strong smell of alcohol and smoke. Four barstools stood in front of a scabby wooden counter, behind that were some dusty bottles and glasses. A man in his thirties was polishing them when I came. He wore a plain black shirt and jeans, a leather jacket despite the heat and... was that khol around bis eyes? He froze for a millisecond, then nodded at me and gestured to a barstool. I sat down.

"So. After all this time, Lu has finally found me again. What is it this time?", the man asked while grabbing two beers from a grey fridge behind him.

"Ever heard of the apocalypse? Heaven wants to stop it or use you guys to win it. Either way, it starts with you." I took the bottle from him and snapped off the lid.

He sighed. "Heaven has been trying to capture me for centuries. They won't find me here."

"I found you! Do you think Michael isn't able to spot your big ass aura here?"

"They can't come in here, I made this building angel-proof."

I slammed my hands on the counter. "They will find a way. They will tear it down or burn it. And even if they can't, is this how you want to spend eternity? Locked in a stuffy bar at the end of the world, drinking beer and talking to the glasses to keep your sanity?"

War narrowed his eyes. "Sanity? You're telling me about my sanity while you're losing yours?"

"What?" I didn't understand. That was until I felt the heat crawling into my hands and looked down. Smoke curled upward from them. I clenched them to fists and looked up to War.

"That has nothing to do with losing my sanity. This was about control. But I'm asking you again, do you want a life in exile? You're the embodiement of war, this isn't your nature, is it?"

"No. But war isn't your nature either, right? You don't like to kill and you don't like losing people you love."

"Are you coming now or do I have to drag you out of here?"

Before he could answer, the ceiling came crashing down, sending splinters and rubble flying everywhere. One left a long cut on my cheek, a short and stinging pain.