Children of the Fallen: Bloodlines (BOOK #3)

Chapter 57: Fun But Futile

Victoria Brooks-Finley

The room quickly erupts in violence, finding that three of the ten were High Celestials. One with fire like the one Morgan had faced before. The other was an illusionist, told to us by Arthur. "He's an illusionist. He will prey on your fears. Whatever you see it's not real!" Arthur yelled but his voice trembled as he tried to continued to fight.

The last High Celestial had telekinesis. Proven after Morgan shot Azrael once in the shoulder and before she could fire again, the gun flew from her hand into the hand of the High Celestial who unloaded the rest of the clip into Cyrus who was running to fight him. Azrael disappeared into thin air from where he stood after Morgan fired. He appearing in back of her hitting the back of her head with the pommel of his sword. I sprinted right as he was bringing the sword back to stab her and swung at him only my fist goes through air.

"Fuck," I mutter.

His teleportation proves to be a problem for us. Laughing like a kid on a playground, Azrael teleports all around us while we try to take care of the ten others. Swiping his blade at us, hitting us, sending a quick shock of lightning through us. Never delivering a lethal blow, just toying with us while we scramble to find where he's going next. Arthur managed to engage in a short skirmish but when he finally had an open shot he slashed his sword through nothing.

Eventually he upped the ante from minor slashes all the while more of those on Azrael's side spilled into the room. Not only were there the three High Celestials and seven other clearly highly trained celestials, but now there were a few Cursed, lycans, and witches adding to the chaos.

As I pull myself up using one of the ballrooms columns to steady me after ripping the heart from a Cursed, my heart drops to the floor when Azrael appears behind Morgan too busy fighting off a celestial to notice him. He raises his sword, intending to stab with a direct path to her heart.

I force my feet to move even as I stumble my way to her. "Morgan!" I yell. Morgan whips around before it could go through her heart, having enough time to impulsively slap it down, impaling her gut instead. She reaches up forcing her thumbs into his eyes while Cyrus runs behind Azrael, sinking his fangs into his throat and tearing trying to create more and more of a gaping wound in his neck.

Azrael jerks his head back, away from Morgan's grasp, and grabs for Cyrus' head forcing lightning through his skull. While Cryus is disoriented, mouth hanging open, eyes darting, unable to tell up from down as the lightning disrupts his brain, Azrael kicks Morgan off of his blade and delivers a killing blow to Cryus. Driving his sword into his chest, he quickly wipes away the blood from his healing eyes with his other hand. He lets Cyrus' body drop then turns to fight Arthur and Mila charging him, as if it's nothing that he's just killed a Fallen.

Stumbling over to Morgan leaning, slumped against the far wall. Arthur shouts, "Disarm him!"

Morgan's hand trembles over her still bleeding wound. "It's not healing," she tells me, wincing, while the sounds of blade on blade reverberates through the room from Arthur fighting Azrael and the High Celestial with telekinesis.

"Thank God," Morgan mumbles eyeing something past me. I turn over my shoulder to find that Sterling and Kellan had run in. Sterling with daggers in hand and anger fueling her as she sprints straight for Azrael, while Kellan runs right to the High Celestial unloading fire onto Mila. "Go. I'm fine," she says but her eyes narrow, a deep confusion on her face, "Behind you."

Stomping over to me... I can't believe my eyes. This one is an illusionist. It's an illusion, it's not real. Pierce nears me, sword in hand, nothing but murderous intent in his eyes. His eyes. They're not Pierce's beautiful brown but an unnaturally dark black. Too slow for my own good I side step his attack.