Not My Apocalypse (17 page)

I rushed him, slashing with Animus. He blocked it as easily as he had every other attack, and with my free hand I swung at his face. I hit him, and as I did, I pushed as much power into the blow as I could. My fist connected with his jaw bone and the punch didn’t just leave a mark on him, this time it knocked his head aside. My right hand, my weaker hand, had been enough to snap his head a few inches to the right. He immediately turned back, his eyes full of anger.

I tried to move but he was too fast. Satan grabbed me around the neck. I thought he was going to choke me, but he threw me as he had in the basement. There was no wall to stop me this time. I flew probably half a football field and landed, skidding through the sharp rocks. I checked to see if I still had my sword. Animus was still clutched in my hand. I stumbled to my feet. Satan came after me, all leisurely like he was on a fucking Sunday stroll. I tried to search all those jumbled images I’d seen in Baldur’s gift, but I couldn’t focus. There was something I did know how to do, a power I’d had since I was two years old. I glanced around and saw a huge rock sitting at the top of a pile. I’d moved cars before when I was angry enough. This was about the same size, although it was probably heavier. It didn’t matter, I could move it.

I pointed my hand and picked it up with my power. There was some resistance, but I reached for more power and hurled the rock at Satan. Without stopping or even turning his head, he lifted his hand and stopped it. The rock dropped back to the ground less than a foot away from him.

“I have those powers too, you know. Where do you think you got them from?”

I growled in frustration and picked up the rock again and threw it at him again. He had less time to react, but he still stopped it just before it hit him. “You are so stubborn. I admire that, but—”

I threw it again, and this time it slammed into him, knocking him to the ground and landing on top of him. “Third time’s the charm,” I said, a thrill rushing through me. I knew he wasn’t down for the count, far from it, but fuck, I’d hurt him. My shoulders started itching, almost burning. The sand must have gotten under my shirt.

The rock shattered into pieces, and I threw my arms up to protect my face. A few pieces hit me, but they left no more than small scrapes and bruises. My father stood, covered in blood and red dust and looking as pissed as I’d ever seen him.

“Do you think this is a game, Alex?” He brushed dust from what had once been a nice suit but was now a torn and dirty mess. “Do you know why I’m destroying the world now, instead of waiting for you to take over it first? Because you’re a failure. I kept thinking you’d come around, but it’s clear you aren’t going to be of any use to me. I always held back because I thought I needed you. I don’t need you, Alex.” He flicked a hand at me and then I was suddenly inches from him, fire surrounding me. “I would never have fucked your mother if I knew what a waste would come of it.”

I brought my sword up at the same time he brought his razor-sharp claws down. Sparks flew. With his other hand he punched me in the side of the head. Pain flared and stars danced in front of my eyes. It took all my focus to stay conscious and I ended up on the ground, fighting off the blackness that wanted to claim me. Satan kicked me, hard enough to send me flying through the air. I landed hard, but still I kept hold of Animus. I really didn’t want to let her go. I sucked in dusty air and even through the struggle to get my breath back, fighting to keep from blacking out, and the pain throbbing in my head and gut, I still felt that itching at my shoulders. And on my forehead too.

I tried to get to my feet and only managed to make it to my knees, coughing. I saw Satan’s foot coming at me before I knew he was there. I brought Animus up and tried to make an angry growl but all I ended up doing was coughing so hard I started to retch. Animus did her job, not just blocking his foot but cutting into it. His blood hissed as it touched my sword and he drew back with a sound that was more angry than pained.

“Fuck you!” I said between coughs. I made it back to my feet. My head cleared a little and I finally got a breath down without coughing. A small trickle of black blood dripped off the edge of Animus. She knew the taste of his blood now, and she was pleased. I charged him and we went claws against sword again, sparks flying when they connected. I didn’t care about anything but hurting him as much as possible. I was hardly even afraid anymore. Everything was rage, and instead of getting winded or tired, I kept getting stronger. More and more he was barely able to deflect my blows and Animus grazed him a few times.

The itching, burning sensation in my shoulders reached a peak and something burst out of my back. It didn’t hurt, it actually felt like a relief, but it was distracting as hell. I was all
what the fuck?
and my next attack went wide. Satan’s claws sliced into my arm. I cried out and focused on getting the fuck away and then
bam!
I was fifty feet away. Go-go teleportation power. Blood ran from two deep cuts on my arm—red blood, human blood. It hurt too much to keep a grip on my sword, so I switched it to the other hand. As I did, something moved out of the corner of my eye, something behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, expecting an attack, but I saw something I definitely wasn’t expecting: wings. I shifted a little to make sure and yes, they were my wings. I had fucking wings. I got a bright flash of memory from Baldur’s gift. Yes, I’d had wings in that glimpse of my future power. Wings and horns, like a proper demon. That would explain why my forehead was itching too.

I tried to flap my wings but I couldn’t get them to cooperate, and I had a much bigger problem to worry about. That problem was Satan making a giant wire-fu leap and landing five feet in front of me. I attacked with Animus, but I had just a little less control with my right hand and he easily smacked my sword aside, almost knocking it right out of my hand. Before I could react, he caught my sword arm and squeezed hard. I screamed and clawed at him with my other hand, my much smaller claws cutting into his flesh, but it didn’t seem to faze him.

“Ah, you’re coming into your full power. You could have been magnificent, my dear little boy.” Then he used his free hand and grabbed hold of one of my wings. He yanked hard and white-hot pain flared. I heard and felt my wing snap, and it kept on snapping, my scream rising and rising as the world became nothing but pain.

He fucking pulled my wing off. He showed it to me and laughed before tossing it away. My legs gave out and the only thing keeping me up was Satan’s grip on my arm. “I was going to kill you, but I think I’ll keep you around. I want you to see the world end.” He squeezed tighter and tighter and I found I still had enough scream left in me. The sound of my arm snapping wasn’t as loud as my wing had been, but it hurt worse. Then he flung me away and another flare of pain went through me as I hit the rocky ground.

“Alex!” Elliot screamed. My friends. I’d forgotten all about them. Some fucking friend I am. I forced my head up just in time to see Satan blur forward and grab Elliot around the neck. I tried to cry out but could only make a weak noise.

“Let him go!” Joshua ran forward, the others behind him.

“Stop right there.” Satan held Elliot out, the boy struggling and kicking uselessly.

“Let him go,” Joshua repeated.

“I might consider it, if all of you leave. This has been fun, but I have better things to do.”

“If we leave, you’ll destroy the world,” Stefan said.

“If you don’t, I’ll snap his little neck.” He shook Elliot for emphasis.

Picking on the weakest of us. What a fucking asshole. The pain faded a little as burning rage filled me. I shifted, thinking about getting up. My broken arm and the spot where my wing had been torn off became the band leaders of a jaunty tune called “Moving is a Bad Fucking Idea.” That just made me angrier. Here I was again, lying on the ground and not able to stand up to my father.

“How do I know you won’t kill him as soon as we’re gone?” Joshua said. He was going to leave. Sacrifice the whole world for the life of one boy? Of course he would.

“Because he doesn’t mean anything to me. The rest of you leave, and I’ll give this one to Alex to take home, since he’s gotten so talented at teleporting.”

“Fucking… coward,” I gasped out of my raw throat. “Pick on someone… who can fight… back.”

He laughed. “Like you? You’re helpless.” He smiled at me. “Oh, you’re so angry. I always admired that about you. Maybe you’re not hopeless. Keep feeding that rage, let it consume you until you see things my way.”

I shit you not, that’s what he said. I expected the next words out of his mouth to be
I am your father, Luke, come to the Dark Side.
Of course, him saying that only made me angrier and I tried to move again. I didn’t have Animus. I must have dropped her when Satan broke my arm. I felt her several yards away, her power calling to me.

An idea sparked in my head. The first power I developed, and it had never failed me. I reached out my left hand, gritting my teeth against the stinging pain of the slashes on my arm and the deep throbbing pain from the place where my wing had been torn off. “Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit.” Rage kept building in me. It felt almost alive.

Satan’s smile widened. “You’re just like me.”

It hurt, almost as much as getting my wing torn off had, to admit it. “Yes, I am like you.” Out there, yards away, I felt Animus respond. So easy to pick up, like she weighed nothing. “But not
exactly
like you.” I threw her and she went straight and true, taking some of my anger with her. Animus hit her mark, the blade vertical, and sliced neatly through Satan’s arm.

He howled, the arm dropped, and Elliot was free. Elliot scrambled on his hands and knees, gasping for breath, and Joshua ran forward. Elliot made it to relative safety behind Joshua’s protection.

“Fucking bastard!” Satan stared at his half-missing arm for a second, then ran at me.

I pulled Animus back and threw her at him again, pushing more of my rage into her. He tried to knock her aside with his intact arm but Animus was too fast. She sank into his chest. He looked at me, and there was something new in his eyes: fear.

It was fucking
delicious
.

With a thought, I pulled her out again. Satan, clutching the wound in his chest, disappeared. I waited, Animus still held in the air. The moon shuddered and the blood-red ground turned white.

“Is it over?” Emily asked.

“He’s gone,” Joshua confirmed.

I let Animus drop and she sent up a puff of moon dust. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Stefan said. “What the
fuck,
Alex?”

“Good, that’s good.” The rage and adrenaline were fading, and so was I. “I need help.”

Chapter 15

I managed to stay conscious, which in hindsight was maybe not a good thing. Everything became a haze of pain. I do remember pulling Animus back to me and gripping her as tight as I could, even though it made the slashes on my arm flare with pain. Joshua took us all back to his house, or made his dad take us back, or something. It doesn’t matter. I remember the green, green grass of his backyard and how much softer it was than the rocky ground of the moon. The sun was back to normal because even lying on the ground with my eyes half-closed, I could tell it was bright. Emily was crying, Elliot was crying.

You’re alive!
Mew-Mew licked my face.

Hurts,
I told him.

Joshua put his hands on me and the pain… faded.

After a little while, it was gone. I took a deep breath and sat up. “I think you can let go of the sword now,” Joshua said.

I set Animus down on the grass, and the slashes on my arm were gone. I looked at my other arm, made a fist, and bent my elbow. It was fine, no pain at all. Mew-Mew hopped into my lap, purring madly. I reached back to check my wings, but there was nothing. Nothing on either side, they were gone. I panicked a little. “My wings.”

“I only healed your wounds. I didn’t do anything to them. They just… disappeared,” Joshua said.

“Maybe they just show up when you’re angry, like the heat thing,” Colin said.

“I guess that makes sense.” I hoped he was right. I really wanted them to come back. I wanted to see if I could fly. That jumbled flash of Baldur’s gift… yes, I saw myself flying in that. Hopefully Satan breaking off my wing hadn’t changed that.

“Is it really over?” Emily asked, wiping at her tears.

Joshua said, “Yes.”

“For now.” I scratched at Mew-Mew’s ears. “He’ll try it again.”

Joshua sighed. “Let’s hope it’s not for a long time.” He healed everyone else’s wounds too. No one had been hurt as badly as I had.

“What do we do now?” Elliot asked.

“I guess we go home,” Stefan said.

“What about Alex?” Colin asked.

I was so tired, I didn’t even want to think. I knew going back to my house wasn’t an option. I looked at Joshua. “Could I stay here one more night? I just…” I was about to say I just needed a place to sleep.

“Of course you can.”

So everyone else went home and I went to the guest room in Joshua’s house. It was the middle of the afternoon but I went straight to bed. I was exhausted, and besides, my sense of time was all screwed up from going graveyard to graveyard all over the world the last few days.

In the morning, I had breakfast with Joshua and his mom, and they offered to let me stay as long as I liked. It was tempting. It was really fucking tempting. I would be safe from my father, have a comfortable place to live, and I could make Joshua and his mom the family I’d always wished I’d had. I wanted a normal life, and I could have something like it here. But it didn’t feel right. I didn’t really belong here, and I never would. So I told them no thanks.

I took my backpack and my sword and Mew-Mew followed me down the stairs at the front of the house. “Alex,” Joshua called. I stopped and turned. “Where are you going to go?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to live on the streets or anything, are you? If you’re not comfortable living with us, we can find you somewhere else to stay.”