Shadow Rising (34 page)

“I did not give you enough credit, Ariane. Still, this ends the way it was always going to.” He smirked. “What is it these vampires like to say? Blood is destiny? So it is with you. Such strong blood. Like my brother. He still fights, but not for much longer.”

She felt Damien brush up against her, fingers brushing against her hand. Small comfort, but she was so glad he was there.

“You’ve gone insane,” Ariane said. “You’d sacrifice everything for a demon who does nothing but destroy?”

Sariel made a low, ominous sound that was eerily close to a growl. “My
brother
,” he said, “always saw what I could not. We’ve wasted so much time, denying ourselves. Watching over the worthless.”

“Then we start again,” Lucan said. “Build what we can for ourselves. Join the world we so hastily chose for ourselves, instead of waiting for a grace that will never come. This is not the answer, brothers.”

“It’s the only answer,” Sariel spat. “Chaos saw the truth when I was blind to it. I am ready to leave this half-life and truly live. Look at us, Lucan!” He spread out his arms, the embodiment of beauty and power. “We try to purge the world of our brethren when we should be ruling it! We’ve been at odds too long. It’s time to reconcile with the Dark Fallen. Consider yourself a reconciliation gift… brother.”

Sariel looked at the ancients to his left. “Armaros, lock the rest back up. Baraqel, behind them in case they try to run.”

Damien had his daggers out in an instant, sliding in front of Ariane to shield her before she realized what he was doing. She wished desperately for a sword, a dagger, anything so that they might at least be a match for Sariel and the others.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Damien growled.

Sariel only looked at him, bemused. “No, you won’t.”

She felt a cold hand grip her upper arm, felt the bite
of steel in the small of her back, and knew that all of the ancients but Lucan and Sam had joined with Sariel… and with Chaos. Damien whipped his head around, his face falling when he saw the ancient called Ezekeel holding on to her.

“Come,” Sariel said. “I’ll escort you.”

When he turned, Ariane saw that his wings, and the wings of his brothers, had all gone pitch-black.

There was a turn at the end of the corridor, leading to the most massive door Ariane had ever seen. It was made of some sort of metal, and despite its obvious age, it still had a sheen to it. The air felt heavier here, weighted with power that hissed and sizzled over her skin. It was uncomfortable, and it got worse the closer they got to the door. Still, she had no choice. The tip of Ezekeel’s dagger bit into her back every time she slowed. And despite Damien’s repeated glances back to check on her, he could do nothing.

They moved single file, Lucan first, then Damien, then her. Sariel led them, his brother Azazel at his side. They stopped at the doors, and Sariel looked calmly at Lucan.

“Do your duty one last time, brother.”

Lucan stepped forward, and Ariane thought of what Sammael had told her, of how Lucan had been Chaos’s keeper for centuries, making sure he was fed just enough to stay in the twilit state between waking and sleep. Lucan had had a wretched existence… and yet he still had more compassion than most of his brothers.

Lucan placed his hand on the doors, and a glowing seam appeared to split it in two. The two halves swung slowly open, revealing a pitch-dark chamber. Not even
the light from the corridor penetrated the thick curtain of blackness that seemed to hang at the entrance. The air here felt thick, almost soupy, and Ariane began to find it hard to breathe.

Sariel stepped aside and looked at the three of them expectantly. For the first time, Ariane could see his excitement. It left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“In. All of you. I’ve fed him enough to waken him. He’s waiting.”

Ariane walked past Sariel, and as soon as she crossed the threshold, the prick of the blade left her back.

At first she could see nothing. She drank in what little air she could, feeling that strange pressure squeezing her. A hand grabbed hers.
Damien.
She squeezed it.

Whatever this is, kitten, we go down swinging together.

She didn’t have the heart to respond, didn’t want to acknowledge that this was probably it. All this struggling, all she’d done, and still she’d ended up given to this creature in the end. She thought of the illustration in her book, recoiled from it.

The darkness began to lift as they moved forward, subtly at first, then turning the room a sort of washed out gray. Ariane could see the stone floor, the high, domed ceiling. And then came the sight that made her stumble over her own feet.

“Ah, Sariel. I began to wonder if you had lied to me.”

The voice, as silken and irresistible as it was sinister, came from the being chained to the floor in the center of the room.

Chaos.

Ariane had expected a monster. What she saw was a man who was undoubtedly kin to the other ancients, white
hair hanging limp and filthy around a face that could have been painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. He was as beautiful as he was broken, his tattered ebony wings stretched at odd angles from his back, as though they’d been broken many times. Though his frame was tall and large, he was emaciated, skin stretched over bone.

Ariane felt a moment of pity. Then Chaos looked directly at her, and she saw the fire dancing at the center of eyes that were full black. There was more than madness there, more than pain and death. He was evil, distilled down to its very essence.

“The time for lies between us is past,” Sariel said. “Look at the feast I’ve brought you.”

Chaos leaned forward to peer hungrily at them, and despite his wasted form, covered only by a dirty loincloth, Ariane sensed that the only thing keeping Chaos from lunging at them was the chains.

“Ah,
Lucan
. My benevolent captor. I wondered where you’d gone.”

Lucan said nothing, staring impassively ahead. Chaos swung his gaze to Damien and curled his lip in a sneer. “And a cat-thing. Adequate.” Then he looked at Ariane, and his eyes lit. She tried to look away, into the distance, anywhere but into those two pits.

“Sammael’s blood. Very nice. I’ve been promised your sire as well,
d’akara
.” His gaze swung to Sariel. “Bring Sammael. Bring the rest of them.”

His voice had a razor-sharp edge, and Ariane wondered whether Chaos was even completely sane. He sounded right on the verge of screaming.

Sariel motioned behind them at someone, then regarded his brother with the first hint of wariness Ariane had seen.

“The others are still drugged, Chaos. And you said they were for the—”

“He wants them all for himself, you stupid git,” Damien snapped. “He’ll probably suck your soul out, too, just for entertainment!”

Ariane’s blood went cold when she saw Chaos’s black gaze swing to Damien.

“Perhaps I’ll take your tongue before I take you soul, cat.”

Ariane heard footsteps behind her then and turned to see Sam, stoic as always, walking out of the darkness that surrounded them, ahead of Baraqel. He didn’t look as though he’d been harmed, Ariane saw, relieved.

Sam’s eyes met hers, just for an instant, and she could see he wasn’t finished fighting quite yet. Hope, irrational but no less real for it, bloomed in her chest. Surely the four of them, even against a demon, could do some damage.

Sam glared defiantly at Chaos, then looked to Sariel. “Chaos betrayed us all, and yet you choose
him
? You are a fool, brother. I thought better of you. Better of you all.”

Sariel was unmoved. “What have we gotten for all these years? Power that is not power, life that is not life. We’ve denied ourselves and looked to the skies, hoping, waiting to be forgiven. We are
pathetic
,” he hissed. “At least the Dark Fallen have tasted this place. I want to
feel
.” A shadow of something, some ancient pain, moved over his face. “I would feel before I am dust. I tire of watching over petulant children!”

“Then run,” Lucan said quietly. “I spent years down here, guarding this monster. Since I left this barren place, I’ve lived more than I did in thousands of years. Run, and leave him chained.”

“No!” Sariel snarled.

“You don’t understand, Lucan,” Chaos hissed. “You’re still cold. My blood runs hot. I can give that to him. To all who follow me.” He slanted a look at Sariel, and Ariane felt a sick twist in her stomach. Damien gave her hand a final squeeze.

“Forget the others, then. I am ready. Unchain me. Let me feed. Let me rise.”

Sariel never hesitated. He pulled a key from his pocket, made of the same bright metal as Chaos’s manacles, and with an ominous series of four clicks, freed the demon. Ariane shrank back as Chaos straightened, rubbing at his wrists and looking around as though he were seeing his prison for the first time. Slowly, painfully, he tried to stretch his mangled wings.

He turned to Sariel, a smile lighting the wasted beauty of his face so that just for an instant, he was an angel once more.

Then he drew back one hand, extended long black claws, and sent Sariel crashing to the floor with a single, brutal stroke. Dark blood flowed quickly into the dust, leaking from multiple wounds from the corner of Sariel’s mouth.

He looked up at his brother, violet eyes wide. “Why… why…”

“Because I can.”

Somewhere in the thick darkness beyond them, the doors crashed shut.

Ariane went cold when Chaos’s eyes pegged her in the darkness.

“You, I think, little angel. You first.”

He lunged at her with surprising strength and swiftness, his jaw opening and elongating until he was no
longer beautiful but some twisted monster. All she could do was throw up her hands, a useless defense. There was no time to do more, nothing she
could
do. She didn’t see Damien move, had no idea what he’d done until she heard the furious roar and saw Chaos arch back with a tortured scream.

Damien was attached to the demon’s back, claws tearing and ripping at his already tattered wings. The weak point, just as Ariane had told him. He hadn’t forgotten.

Sam gave a battle cry that had dust and chunks of rock raining from the ceiling, and she felt a silent brush of wings beside her: Lucan.

The room erupted into pandemonium as Chaos sprang into the air, thrashing to try detaching Damien. What light there was began to fade, and the dust and debris began to rain harder from the ceiling with the furious cries of fallen angels. She whirled, looking for Chaos. She saw Sam ripping Baraqel’s sword from his grasp, Lucan fending off Ezekeel and Azazel. Time seemed to slow as she spun and unfurled her wings from her back, thinking only of finding Damien. There had to be something she could do, even if it was only clawing at Chaos with her bare hands.

There was a tremendous thundering in the distance as someone began to pummel the door.
Armaros
, she thought. He’d stayed behind to relock the cages and was one less ancient to deal with.

She caught a glimpse of wildly flapping black wings and sprang into the air, only to be yanked back by her hair. She cried out, more in surprise than pain, as she crashed to the ground.

Then Sariel brought his boot down on her wing, and she screamed, arching in pain. For an instant she could
see nothing, just a bright burst of white light to accompany the agony in her wing.

“No,” Sariel said, his eyes wild. Then he looked above him, drawing his sword from the sheath between his wings. “Chaos! Here! Take her and rise, brother!”

As her bones began to knit, Sariel stomped his foot again, rebreaking fragile bone. This time Ariane roared, rolling onto her side and curling into herself. Chaos crashed to the ground in front of her, Damien nowhere to be seen. Blood as black as his wings poured from his wounds, but he moved quickly, coming to crouch beside her, baring a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. In that moment, he was every bit the nightmarish creature she had envisioned.

She imagined Damien’s body, broken and torn, hurled against one of the far walls, and reached out to him as Chaos leaned over her.

Damien… love you…

Chaos jerked backward suddenly, midnight eyes going wide as the tip of a sword erupted from his chest. He gagged, staggering, as the sword was withdrawn. And behind him was Damien, bloodied, unsteady, and covered in dust… but alive. In his hands was one of the ancients’ swords.

As she watched, he swung the sword high over his head, aiming for Sariel.

A sound filled the room then, a shout so full of pain and fury that it seemed to encompass all the suffering of the world in a single sound. Damien froze. Ariane felt a single drop of blood trickle from her nose as the room was plunged into darkness. A sonic boom shook the floor, crumbling sections of wall. She could hear the stones falling as everything moved, and she pulled her wounded wings into herself, waiting for the final strike.

But none came.

The rumbling quieted quickly as the terrible, inhuman sound faded. Ariane opened her eyes to see that the world had turned a soft shade of gray from falling dust and rock, and the room was full of dim, dingy light.

Gingerly, she sat up, peering around, looking for any sign of life. Several enormous chunks of the ceiling had crashed to the floor, one not far from her. Then she saw Damien, sprawled on the floor where he’d been knocked off his feet.

That got her to her feet, stumbling over to him and kneeling down.

“Damien,” she pleaded, her voice sounding harsh and strange. She shook him. “Damien, please…”

He groaned softly, but the smile he gave her when he rolled over and saw her was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. He sat up slowly, and Ariane threw her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could.

“We’re alive,” he said, sounding amazed. “Did I kill him, then?”

“You did not. But you fought well, cat.”

Ariane looked to see Sam slowly making his way toward them. He was bloodied and battered, but very much alive… as was Lucan, not far behind him. Damien stood, helping Ariane to her feet, and the four of them came together to look at what had once been Chaos’s prison. The piles of ash that had once been fallen angels still smoldered, and the room smelled faintly of incense.