Dedication

To all the prayer warriors who truly understand where the fight is, where it begins: on our

knees.

Times are dark and they're getting darker, but we fight for the Almighty God who can

never be defeated. So dust yourself off, clean your armor and don it yet again. Then take a

knee, say a prayer, rise once more, and charge into the fray.

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the

authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in

the heavenly realms."

— Ephesians 6:12

Prologue

It was dark even though it was mid-morning.

The heavy, out-of-season dust storm choked out the sun’s light and threw

everything into an orange hue as the wind ripped through the town. There may not have

been many people out, but the sounds of battle were loud over the streets.

It was a hard fight this time, and the angels had their hands full.

The captain met an enemy sword before spinning and meeting a second. He

pivoted back and forth as he engaged his two opponents, their blades nothing more than

trails of light and dark.

Finally, with one powerful swing, he disarmed and struck down the first demon. In

a single, skillful flick of the sword, he deflected the blade of the second before delivering

the fatal blow.

The captain saw another enemy squad on approach and shot into the sky to give

himself a couple seconds to assess the situation.

Where had all these demons come from? They were already numerous, since the

Middle-East was largely their domain, but these new arrivals were unexpected. The skill

and endurance of he and his few warriors were being put to the test.

That was when three lone vehicles appeared on the side road, US military.

The captain understood then why there were so many demons out: some kind of

ambush was planned for the convoy as it headed back to base.

He swatted an enemy blade aside before he and his two chief commanders shot

towards the hummers. A drove of demons also bee-lined for the Americans, to join in the

fun of their comrades as they dive-bombed the vehicles.

The captain swept through a group of demons, cutting down two in passing before

banking hard to the right.

The angels, hot on the heels of their foes, thinned them out from behind and

advanced forward. The captain dropped below the ground and disappeared from sight.

There were still a dozen black spirits around the vehicles when two angels came

onto the scene, one from the left, the other from the right; the captain shot straight out of

the ground.

Snarling and baring their teeth, the demons' attentions were momentarily

redirected as they faced these three angelic warriors.

A black shadow slammed into the captain, sending him sideways. He twisted

around with just enough time to block the enemy's first strike.

As they exchanged a few blows to test one another's resolve, the captain quickly

gathered this wasn't just any mindless imp; this was a commander, a mid-ranking official.

The captain executed three quick strikes to bring the demon in close before

elbowing him in the face. His dark opponent was quick to counter, however, and kicked

him to restore space long enough to swing the sword around. He brought the blade down

with tremendous force once, twice, then a third time.

Squaring himself up, the captain swung his sword like a bat. The blades met with

jarring force and the momentum and impact sent the commander off-balance.

“Azal!” called the captain before parrying another strike. Landing a solid kick in

the commander's gut, he slashed him deeply across the chest.

“Azal!”

“Captain!” came the response from an angel further below him.

“It’s an ambush or bomb or something!” said the captain, ducking as a glowing red

blade whooshed over his head. “Try to get them to change course or something before it’s

too late!”

Azal turned and shot away, ahead of the vehicles.

The captain blocked another strike, then dodged out of the way of a jab. He

returned the favor by slicing through the demon’s arm before ducking under a quick

swing.

He got a black wing in the face which forced him to swerve sideways to recover.

Ducking as he spun, he just missed the blade as it brushed by his head. The second swing

he met head-on and the two blades collided with a metallic ring that cut through the

stormy air and sent sparks to the ground.

“You’re not stopping the plan this time, captain,” snarled the commander, eyes

burning with malice as their swords locked.

While they braced against one another in a test of strength, the captain glanced

over the demon's shoulder in time to see a wall of shadows block Azal's path. Thirty feet

beyond the blockade stood four large brutes beside the road, backs to one another,

guarding something. It had to be a roadside bomb.

Planting his foot into the commander’s stomach, the captain flipped back and

away. Then with a single powerful thrust of his wings, he launched himself at the demon.

They shot over the town, striking, kicking, throwing their elbows into one

another’s face.

The dark commander sensed another angel coming in and he bashed the side of

his fist into the captain’s head. If it hadn’t been for the reinforcement, he would have

been able to fatally wound the dazed captain. Instead, he was forced to turn and meet the

second enemy.

Instantly, fiery pain ripped across his back as the captain cut his sword upwards.

The demon blocked the second angel’s strike before spinning and parrying the

captain’s. Higher ranking commanders didn’t fall nearly as easily as the lower level

demon, but he couldn’t cover himself from the attacks that came from two different

directions.

In three more blows, the commander was cut down and destroyed.

The two angels circled around and rushed towards the convoy. Veering hard to the

left, they dropped along the road.

Things weren’t going any better now than two minutes before. It appeared more

demons had joined in the “little” fight. Or more appropriately, they seemed to know what

was planned for the Americans and they wanted to make sure they got there in time to

see the show.

In the near distance, Azal was down on the edge of the road. Wounded and

bleeding, a swarm of large shadows pressed in around him.

While they were still en route, three demons nearby shot towards the captain and

his comrade.

“I’ll stall them!” shouted the angel, breaking away to meet the enemy.

With all haste, the captain flew over the road, the situation growing dire. They

could no longer surround the convoy as it neared the bomb and they clearly wouldn’t be

able to hold their positions much longer.

The captain punched through the group hovering over Azal, diminishing two with

the sheer impact of the hit.

The wounded angel stood back to back with his captain as they battled the

remaining enemy. They knew that with each passing second the soldiers were moving

closer to a fiery end.

Seeming to know this, the demons moved in only to exchange a few blows before

dodging out of the way a few seconds, and then closing in again; they were taunting the

weakened and outnumbered heavenly warriors.

The vehicles were dangerously close now and the captain had had about enough of

these games.

Pivoting into a crouch, he ducked a swing. As he did, he ran his sword through the

core of the demon in front of him before catching his companion in the chest.

Azal used the distraction and struck down two more. "Go captain!" he shouted,

turning and facing the final two immediate enemies.

The captain rocketed towards the vehicles, stomach just inches from the

pavement, blurring by underneath him.

The vehicle in the rear of the line was coming in fast. Maybe he’d have time to

reach the bomb before…

A tremendous dark force struck from the side. Volts of pain ripped through his

shoulder, across his chest and all the way down his side as he tumbled onto the sand.

Propping himself up, he saw who his foe was: Darus, prince of this territory.

Darus wasn't able to initiate an attack against the captain though and turned to

deflect a strike from another angel who came from behind.

Skidding to a stop, the bruised and bleeding heavenly warrior attacked with speed.

But his strength was already nearly spent and he was no match for the dark prince.

Darus stepped out of the path of one strike, then swung and met the next one.

Whipping the blade just so, he gave the angel a deep wound that ran from his chest up

under his arm.

The captain stiffly pushed himself to his feet just as Darus leveled his blade on

him. They shared a brief look before his dark eyes flicked back to the road.

There was comfortable enough space between them for the angels to take their

eyes off their foe and follow his gaze.

And they did so as the first vehicle hit the bomb.

This wasn't as much an IED as it was an explosion one might expect to see during

the demolition of a structure. But not of a vehicle.

The violent blast obliterated the first two humvees and totaled the third. A massive

charred crater was left behind, filled with miscellaneous burning debris.

None of the brave and gallant soldiers, who'd been directly responsible for taking

out key terrorist leaders in the area, survived. Like Death, the forces of darkness were

never satisfied with how many lives they took. Extremely vengeful, it could never shed

enough of its enemy's blood and was already thirsting for more.

The captain and his warrior burned hot with righteous fire as they returned their

eyes to Darus. But they had no chance in defeating or even weakening him. Not right

now.

Besides, it would not undo what had just happened. The heavenly warriors had

been charged with the arduous task of watching out for the soldiers in this dark land.

Sometimes they were given orders not to interfere on a specific matter, but this

assignment had just been met with apparent failure.

Darus didn’t seem interested in destroying the captain and his companion as he

regarded them with a dark gaze filled with disdain.

Lowering his sword, he let his eyes linger on the warriors a second longer before

turning and walking away.

† † †

Halfway around the world, a meeting was under way in a large storage warehouse

as unseasonably early snowfall continued to bury the small town.

Two groups of men stood on opposite sides of the long tables. On these tables sat

several long, narrow plastic crates and a handful of boxes.

The inspection of merchandise was nearing an end and money exchanged hands

five minutes later. The buyers, Russian, raised shot glasses of vodka to the sellers.

“To our new friends,” said the boss, little smile on his face, eyes gleaming from the

lights overhead. “I am thinking we just may have found a favorable stop on our trade

route.”

The seller smiled coyly and raised his own glass. “The winds have been in our favor

for some time, comrade, and I am glad you chose to do business with us...in spite of all

the snow.”

The Russian laughed. “It is no different than back home. Besides, we used to own

this, uh, state, remember?”

They drank their shot and the Russian poured himself another. “If I hear any of my

friends looking for good dealer on this side of the border, I will direct them to you.”

The seller, a man by the name of Jerome, raised his glass to the Russian, the dark

gleam never leaving his eye. “To favorable trade winds.”

†

Outside in the darkness of the blizzard, a large number of demons were having a

tiff of their own with some angelic warriors.

Hafez spun and met one blade and then twisted around to block another strike. If

things had been bad before the deal, now they were horrific. Black spirits amassed from

everywhere, having followed the Russian weapons dealers. These particular vile beasts

were highly volatile and prone to extreme violence.

He suddenly found himself surrounded by demons. Flipping backwards behind

them, Hafez cut through one before spinning and shooting away. Quickly he spotted his

nearest friend as a particular dark spirit grabbed him by the wing. The demon never knew

what hit him as Hafez swept in from behind.

Helping his friend right himself, he looked all around them, at the town overrun

by demons. “Come on. We need to warn Malak.”

The two wounded angels took flight, meeting up with any other remaining

warriors on their way back to safer territory. If anyone had wondered whether or not the

demonic stronghold had weakened, well…now they had their answer.

†

Trinity McFiercson was up late working on a Russian translation job, something

she did freelance since returning home to the United States.

But when she felt that all too familiar sharp pain stabbing through her temples,

she knew it was time to stop everything and pray. Whatever was going on was serious

because the pain did not cease as the enemy stubbornly refused to yield.

She had been pacing around the living room for an hour before finally stopping in

front of the tall windows and looking across the front lawn.

With the porch light on, she could see the snow continuing to fall. There was

already eight inches of fresh stuff and it looked like they might get another eight.

Then her stomach cinched up in something, she couldn’t put her finger on the

reason. Fear? Dread? And it was accompanied by a pounding headache that wrapped all

the way around her forehead.

And then the phone on the wall by the kitchen rang.

Trinity walked across the living room, past the dining room table to the phone. As

she reached for it, she noticed her hand was trembling, though she didn’t know why.

Picking up the phone, she hit a button. “Hello?”

“Is this Trinity McFiercson?”

Something in the caller’s voice was all wrong and Trinity’s stomach tightened even

more.

“Uh, yes...”

“My name is Justin, I’ve worked beside you’re dad for some years…”

“I recall hearing your name a few times.”

“Well…I wanted to be the one to call and tell you…tell you something that happened

today…something about your dad, Trinity…”

Oh no, she thought, heart instantly beginning to hammer, Oh, God, no.

“There was a roadside bomb that hit the convoy he was riding as it headed back to

base…I’m…he…he’s gone, Trinity…you’re dad…he’s dead.”

Trinity heard nothing else that was said, nor did she care to, and she hung up the

phone. Her brain went numb and stopped working, as if unable to accept what she’d just

heard.

Roadside bomb? That didn’t make sense. This time of year terrorist activity usually

slowed to a near stop, because the weather cooled and winter was just around the corner.

Of course, terrorists would strike that particular convoy on that particular day.

Her dad had been a liaison of sorts between intelligence and the military for nearly

three decades. Naturally there had been a couple close scrapes during that time and was

to be expected because of the countries he operated in.

But Trinity would not have expected this call, not so soon after her mom's passing

just a year ago in a car accident. Her death, though the hardest thing she'd ever faced, had

only strengthened the bond between her and her father. And now…this?

Her feet had moved without her knowing, and Trinity found herself staring out the

front windows again. The first stabs of pain gripped her heart as, what was left of it, began

to break. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to force the tears back, though

they came anyway.

She had just been dealt another unkind cut.

Though her head and heart failed to understand, Trinity did know she could not

take any more. The enemy had known right where to strike, and it took the last fight out

of her.

Hot tears streaming down her sullen face, she turned her eyes to the darkness

outside again.

“I give up,” she whispered, her shoulders slumped forward.

The pounding headache disappeared and the pain in the side of her head eased,

though only a little. But in time she’d learn to ignore it.

Let them have the stupid town, Trinity thought, it’s already overrun, a stronghold.

She was withdrawing from this race, lying down on the battlefield and admitting

defeat. She didn’t care now.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Chapter 1

Prince

The house was situated in the hills with a picturesque view of the treacherously

ragged mountains, tops cut off by the clouds. Aspen and birch were still a week or two

away from budding after a winter marked with unseasonably heavy snowfall, so the

landscape was bare.

Breakup was an ugly time of year in Alaska. When the snow melted, the skeleton

trees, barren underbrush, and brown grass were exposed. But it made up for it quickly

once leaves budded, the days lengthened and warmed, and the grass greened.

But the scenery betrayed the darkness that settled over the town and its

occupants. Human eyes could not see the mass of demons that came and went regularly,

though they could feel something wasn’t quite right. A suffocating presence hung about

the place and unseen eyes watched everything.

The basement of the house held a ritual chamber, dark, dank, heavy with the scent

of blood and burned out candles. Oh yes, evil had not just been welcomed here; it had

been called, openly invited to reside.

He sat atop the roof of the large, two-story log cabin, feeling quite good about

things. Talons clicking against each other, his sharp green eyes watched as his underlings

fluttered in and out of the house. The sun peeked between two ridges and would have

spilled its light across the valley if it hadn’t been for the low, thick clouds that blocked it.

Enforcer pushed himself to his feet, stretching his strong arms over his head and

unfurling his massive black wings. He had been the one to lead the front that defeated

their angelic foes decades ago, when they had established their stronghold here in this

northern territory.

Skilled in battle, he fell a number of the enemy and staked this land. So it was

appropriate he’d been named demon prince, the overseer, defender. Only one had

challenged him as leader and that was over fifteen years ago. Everyone knew their place,

and no one questioned his orders.

“Someone approaches!” shouted a scout.

Swords appeared in clawed hands as all eyes turned to the southeast.

A pair of black specs appeared between a wide pass through the mountains. A

minute later Enforcer recognized the messengers and ordered his forces to stand down.

When they arrived, the two demons drifted down to the roof and bowed

respectfully.

“We bring good news from the western territory,” spoke the larger of the two. “The

Order has just secured cooperation from officials in New York! Their influence is

spreading quickly. Shaman himself is looking forward to joining forces with D.C. if

everything goes well here.”

Enforcer’s warriors whispered amongst themselves, jabbing one another. This was

good news, indeed! But with one look from their leader, they all immediately fell quiet.

“Tell Shaman we will be ready on time,” said Enforcer.

“Of course, my lord.”

The messengers backed away a couple steps before turning and rocketing into the

sky, heading back the way they’d come.

Well, things don’t get much better than this, thought Enforcer as he walked to the

peak of the roof.

“That news is definitely reason to celebrate,” he called to the others, “so let’s have a

little fun. Go, stir up Jerome’s men and harass the few petty saints still in town. Drive

them out! Complete your task!”

The demons shrieked with wicked laughter, spewing sulfur into the air. Countless

wings snapped open and the sky filled with black as they shot towards the town just over

the ridge.

Enforcer rolled his neck and chuckled to himself. There was nothing like the

feeling of a plan coming together, and he would immensely enjoy driving the rest of the

little saints of God from this place.

They would leave…or be destroyed.

Chapter 2

The Beginning

“I’m so bored!” whined the little demon from where he perched on a fallen birch

tree.

“Shut up,” growled his larger companion, sprawled in the moss by the tree’s trunk.

“But how come everyone else gets to have all the fun and we have to stay here?”

“Well, why don’t you go ask Enforcer yourself…”

The third member of the group rolled his eyes. “Both of you shut it.”

He stood watching Trinity McFiercson as she delimbed a downed spruce tree.

With one swing after another, she removed the branches, then stacked and tossed them

on the small burn pile she had going a dozen feet away.

He had to hand it to the girl: she had endurance. She’d been doing this since the

sky began to pale with the approaching sun, after only a few hours of sleep. Last night

she’d completed another translation job for a business in Anchorage. Russian.

She was already set financially thanks to her parents' wills, but she was always

looking for something to keep herself busy; anything to keep her mind off other things

she refused to deal with.

Everyone knew this once fervent prayer warrior had been reduced to not so much

as a whisper. Recent deaths had struck her heart and taken a heavy toll—just as the

demon prince had anticipated.

And he knew she could sense the warfare that was going on in town this very

moment.

Ceasing her swinging, Trinity straightened and wiped the sheen of sweat from her

forehead. Her eyebrows furrowed a little when she felt a little sting in the side of her

head.

She tilted her head just so, as if listening to something. But then, deciding to

discount it, Trinity gripped the axe and resumed stripping the tree.

“Come on,” called the demon lying on the moss, “she never does anything anyway.

Why would now be any different?”

Something suddenly smacked him in the head and he glared at the little imp above

him. The small spirit just blinked innocently, but he wasn’t fooled.

“I’ve had about enough of you!” he snarled as he sat up.

The smaller demon leapt further down the tree. “It’s your fault we’re here in the

first place!” he retorted.

“My fault!” bellowed the other spirit, on his feet. “If you hadn’t questioned the

plans of Enforcer, I could be in town on a real assignment instead of here listening to your

bellyaching.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I would take working under Sharif over being here with you for

another lousy day!”

That was the last straw and the larger demon lunged at his companion. They went

tumbling across the little clearing and into the underbrush.

The third demon pinched the bridge of his nose. With a sigh, he turned and

walked to his two companions duking it out.

Trinity looked up when she heard a branch break on her left. Eyes studying the

bare forest, she saw nothing.

But the sharp pains in the side of her head told her something was moving. It had

been a long time since she had felt it in successive days. A large attack was imminent,

maybe already happening. She also didn’t doubt a second there were demons nearby. But

still, she didn’t care.

Blowing through her lips, she returned to work and removed the last few thick

branches with powerful swings. She then dragged them to the fire and piled them on top.

In seconds the flames roared with newfound life as it devoured the dry branches.

Trinity remained where she was a moment, staring into the flames. Before she

became totally caught up in memories that would only lead to pain, she inhaled sharply

and shook herself from her thoughts.

She found the only way to keep from thinking about the deaths of both parents

was to work, work, and work some more.

But translating documents wasn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe she should go into

town and chat with Chief Castillo about working another case. She’d “consulted” on a

number of cases for law enforcement. In the back of her mind, however, Trinity knew

facing the pain and sorrow would come sooner or later.

For the umpteenth time that morning, she felt a probing to pray. Except this time

it was stronger, insistent.

Eight months ago she would have jumped all over it, but…things had changed.

Death had taken the fight out of her. The enemy knew it, and she knew the enemy knew.

But she was too tired.

In the trees, the third and largest demon finally separated his two companions.

“Enough!” he shouted. “Now you’re giving me a headache.”

With one thrust of his wings, he shot into the sky, heading for town.

“Wait!” called the smallest as he fluttered to follow. “What about the girl?”

He snorted. “She doesn’t even pray now, and there are other things to be done.”

It was true. Everyone knew very well that Trinity McFiercson wasn’t a danger or

even an annoyance any longer.

† † †

Workplace of Brittany Johnson, community church member

Brittany’s week had been a week of Monday’s so far, and it was only Wednesday.

One thing had yet to go right at work. From emails not sending to computers crashing,

even the lights burning out, everything was going downhill.

And on top of it all, she’d had a headache the past five days. But it wasn’t the kind

that came from stress or exhaustion. This was different and only occurred when

something was stirring in town.

Shoving her hair out of her face, Brittany walked down the hall to one of her

coworkers offices.

“Hey, Stacy, did you get—” she stopped when she poked her head through the

doorway and saw the room was empty.

She turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin when she collided with a

man who had been standing behind her.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t…” She cut off her sentence.

The man was dressed formally, in business attire, clean cut. But it wasn’t his

wardrobe she was looking at; it was his eyes, dark brown, almost black. Though he was

smiling, there was no missing the threatening expression in his gaze.

“You be careful there, Miss Johnson,” he said, “wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

The headache was pounding madly against her forehead now as icy fear grabbed

her heart, the kind that rooted her feet to the floor and made her palms sweaty. She tried

to swallow, but couldn’t.

“Brittany, there you are. I was looking for you,” said a woman coming down the

hall on the right. “Brittany? Are you okay?”

“Uh,” Brittany gave a little shake of her head to break herself out of her daze,

“yeah, fine.”

She glanced around the room, but the man had vanished.

†

Home of David O’Hare, community church member

At the same time Brittany was receiving her ominous visit, David was pulling into

the driveway of his house.

Like an idiot, he’d forgotten his backpack with the latest reports for work…like

he’d forgotten to pick up dinner the previous night, and completely spaced his daughter’s

parent-teacher conference Monday night. It had been a week where remembering things

had been quite difficult.

Killing the engine, he jumped out of the car and jogged up the steps to the porch.

Then he stopped and backed up a little.

The kitchen and dining room windows were broken. If it had been the first time,

he might have been shocked. But this was the third incidence in as many weeks, and now

he was just flat angry.

David unlocked the front door and stormed into the house to survey the damage.

Nothing was taken, to his mild surprise. But the abundance of glass on the floor

confirmed the windows had been broken from the outside.

He put his hands on his hips. Surely his wife would have called him, or the police,

if it had happened when she was still at home, before she’d gone to work?

He normally left before her, except on the occasion when a meeting was scheduled

for later in the morning and he slept in, as was the case that day. It wasn’t a regular

routine thing, so that meant someone had to have been watching the house.

The sound of a vehicle idling down the street broke David from his thoughts.

Looking out where the dining room window used to be, he saw two men in a truck slowly

creeping past the house. They were clean shaven, casually-dressed.

The driver looked at David, pretended like he had a gun in his hand, aimed it at

him, and pulled the trigger.

†

Incident in grocery store parking lot concerning Amber Sutton, community church

member

Idiot, thought Amber as she reached her car with one grocery bag per hand, get

your keys ready before you go to the car.

She set the bags by the rear tire of her car. What the? The tire was flat, slashed

open, the same with the others.

“You need some help there, miss?” asked someone behind her.

Amber spun, on the defensive. She was originally a southern gal before moving up

here to Alaska and wasn’t afraid of a fight.

As she was turning, someone pushed her hard against the driver’s side door.

Shoving her way around so she was facing forward, she came face to face with a clean-

shaven, well-dressed man. But she wasn’t fooled. She knew what he really was: a thug.

“Looks like you’re having some car trouble,” he said, little smirk on his face, eyes

mocking.

“Yeah, you’d know,” Amber retorted.

“You and your friends are finished here,” he whispered, leaning close, “your church

is nothing. Pretty soon it’ll be gone just like all the others. You all had better be careful.”

Then he turned and walked off unhurriedly across the parking lot.

Amber stayed where she was a couple seconds longer, arms tight against her sides.

Her clenched fists were shaking, but she didn’t know if it was from fear or anger.

†

“That was the third act of vandalism at a police officer’s home in the past two

weeks!” exclaimed Officer Perry. “And you said you saw some people lurking around your

home, chief?”

He shook his head, “There are only two other officers in this town and the way I

see it, I’m next.”

“Now, look, Perry, leaving is exactly what they want you to do,” said Chief Castillo.

“Mills and Baker already left. If you go it’ll just be me and Ravik to look after the place

and we won’t stand a chance.”

“We didn’t from the time that thug came into town,” countered Perry before he

turned and walked down the aisle created by half a dozen empty desks.

“Perry!”

“Sorry, chief, but I’m taking a leave of absence!”

Chief Castillo stood in the room a couple seconds longer, hands on his hips.

“Great,” he said with a sigh. “Just great.”

† † †

They met in the conference room of a high rise in downtown Los Angeles,

California. The room was cold, but not because of the air conditioning, and the room was

dim, but not due to lack of light.

A thick presence settled over the meeting like a blanket, heavy, almost suffocating.

Personnel on neighboring floors could feel it, too, though they weren’t aware of it. The

evil gathering on the floor above or below them manifested itself in confusion as fights

broke out among coworkers, equipment refused to work, and no one could concentrate.

That day, nothing would get finished, no reports written or projects completed.

“Our contact says the town is nearly ready,” he said, eyes glinting, “they are almost

set for the base of operations to be established.”

“So much work for one little town,” muttered one of the members.

“Indeed,” nodded their leader, “but there have been a lot of people to deal with, to

run off, roots of our enemy to dig up.”

“And you’re sure our man there can handle himself?” asked another member.

“Oh yes,” he replied, sinister smile on his face, “he is very strong and able. The

town is ready to fall permanently and it will be thanks to his efforts.”

Chapter 3

Confrontation

He typed as fast as he could while trying to avoid looking at the clock every couple

minutes. His report was due at the end of the day and he’d only just begun compiling the

information.

In a nutshell, he was like a private investigator who performed in-depth research

on any large business seeking city approval for a building license. After gathering all the

pertinent data, he reported his findings to the city. It wasn’t exactly riveting, but it paid

more than enough to cover the bills.

While he became lost in thought, his fingers each moved off one key and when he

looked at his screen, he saw he’d typed a paragraph of complete gibberish.

“Stupid...”

He punched the backspace button, then realized it would go faster if he just

highlighted the paragraph and deleted it.

He was grumbling something about technology when someone plopped down in

the chair in front of his desk, a shadow in his peripheral. He literally jumped to his feet.

“Whoa, easy there, Chase,” she said, raising her hands. “Running behind on

another report?”

Chase exhaled loudly and slid a hand down his face, “Trinity, you have to stop

doing that to me.”

Trinity just blinked at him, “I’m only helping you remain aware of your

surroundings…although I am jealous of your office view.”

Because he could do what he needed mostly from home, Chase’s boss allowed him

the leisure of working from there. His apartment, more like a large studio, had a nice

view of the river, and his office had windows on almost every wall. It was especially

beautiful in the fall.

“Yeah, until the next big earthquake,” he said, hands on his hips. “Now why are you

here?”

Trinity raised her eyebrows a little at his tone.

“Sorry,” he breathed, sitting back down.

“I just finished my latest job, and now I’m killing time waiting for something else

to come up,” she said.

“You’re bored, in other words,” he replied. “You know, with your skills and

traveling experience you could probably land a government position.”

Trinity made a face. “I enjoy being able to do what I want, when I want. You know

I like to march to the beat of my own drum.”

“Yes,” agreed Chase very knowingly, “I know.”

When she caught him checking the time again, she leaned forward, “I can leave, if

you need…”

“No, no, Trinity, I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face again,

“just…anxious, I guess.”

“That seems to be the theme around town,” replied Trinity, looking

disinterestedly at her fingernails. “You hear about the latest incidents?”

Chase held her eyes a moment, understanding the real motive behind her visit. She

was here to catch up on the recent happenings around town.

“Yeah, more vandalism and threats against members of the church. And, of course,

we know Jerome is behind it.”

“Of course,” said Trinity, “but no hard evidence to prove it. He’s nothing but

trouble, a thug in nice clothes.”

Chase leaned over his desk, “He’s a thug who deals heavily in the occult.”

Trinity waved a finger at him. “Exactly.”

“And he’s had you in his sights ever since he got here two years ago.”

She met his gaze and gave a shake of her head. “Obviously not anymore…anyway,

he’s reached a new level of intimidation. His threats are turning into actions, and I think

it’s just all part of a master plan, whatever that is. They, he, whatever group he’s a part of,

is preparing for something large scale.”

Lines of concern deepened across Chase’s forehead. “Does anyone even know the

name of the group he’s associated with?”

Trinity just shrugged. “I don’t. They’re very quiet about it…names are important,

especially when it comes to refuting them. They apparently know this and thus are very

aware of the spiritual forces at work.”

“Which makes them even more dangerous. They at least think they know what

they’re dealing with.”

Trinity let out a long breath. “They were smart when they started by harassing the

police. I just heard another officer has taken a leave of absence. Now it’s just Ravik and

Castillo.”

Chase leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. “I can’t believe

we lost focus so quickly after the last incident.”

“What’s the church saying about all this?” she asked airily, turning her eyes out the

windows.

Chase looked at her. “There’s a meeting tomorrow night,” he said gently, “you

should come. Everyone would be glad to see you.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they would,” she replied sarcastically while avoiding his gaze.

“It’s been eight months…”

“I know how…” Trinity caught herself, checking her tone. “I know, but I’m just…not

ready.”

Chase merely studied the young woman sitting across from him. He’d known

Trinity almost his entire twenty-nine years, and the personality of that dark haired, blue

eyed beauty still intrigued him.

She was laid back to the extreme, and he could count on one hand the number of

times he’d seen her angry. She didn’t just roll with the punches; she seemed to

completely absorb and shrug off the events of life.

An independent mindset, she did what she wanted, when she wanted and only

spoke or committed to action when she was good and ready. One meeting her for the first

time might write her off as indifferent, uncaring about anything or anyone. To be honest,

Chase wondered about that himself on certain days. He knew she did truly care but didn’t

show it.

However, there was a mysterious, perhaps sinister side to Trinity. When she was

pushed, she pushed back even harder. There was the smallest angry streak inside her that

could ignite in a flash. He could see it in her eyes.

Thanks to her tagging along with her father on a number of his rotations, and to a

cousin who was an intelligence operative overseas, Trinity acquired the ability to handle

herself very well in dicey situations. She could improvise on the fly, was skilled in hand-

to-hand combat, and could fire any rifle or handgun with deadly accuracy. Mysterious

and dangerous.

But the deaths of Trinity's parents had quieted her already docile spirit even more,

if that were even possible, and she’d withdrawn.

“You know we do care about you,” said Chase, “but you also know we’re going to

need everyone in on this if we’re going to stop whatever’s going on.”

A dark cloud over her face, Trinity slouched into her chair, making her lean five

foot four frame even smaller.

When Chase saw the gentle approach wasn’t working, he gave his desk an

exasperated slap. “You were the one to stir up the church in the first place three years ago

when we were having trouble with what’s-his-face? You got us awake and kicking to the

realities of spiritual warfare, got us praying like we’d never prayed before.”

“I know!” bellowed Trinity suddenly, on her feet and glaring down at him.

The one sure-fire way to get her riled was to raise your voice to her—and she knew

Chase knew. He was also the only one who could get away with it and keep his jaw in one

piece.

Her angry tone switched off just like that and she waved him off. “There are plenty

of able prayer warriors in the church already. You don’t need me now.”

There was something in her voice that made Chase raise his eyebrows. “You feel

inferior?”

Trinity gave him a curt look, but her silence was enough of an answer.

“Trinity, you…”

She raised a hand, palm out as that warning flickered in her eyes. “Don’t. Start. I

don’t want to get involved this time.”

But Chase could be stubborn too. He was on his feet again, hands on his hips.

“What! Nevermind. Fine, if that’s how you want to be. What do you want then?”

The front door of the studio closed outside the office, followed by a single set of

approaching footsteps.

“To be left alone,” she replied in a low voice.

The door opened behind her and the new comer stopped beside Chase’s desk.

“Hey, this box was at your door,” said the young man, putting the item on his desk. “Hi,

Trinity.”

“Hey, Hunter.”

Hunter, Chase’s cousin, had a couple inches on Trinity with a thin frame, unlike

Chase’s solid and fit physique.

In his early teenage years, Hunter started to get mixed up in gangs. However,

under a stern reprimand from his watchful cousin, he straightened himself out thanks to

the church. Now he was taking medical classes and interning at the local hospital, and

had been hanging out with Chase and Trinity regularly.

Noting the stony silence between Trinity and Chase, Hunter asked, “Did I

interrupt something?”

“No,” answered Trinity lightly. “I was just leaving.”

As she turned and headed for the door, Chase said, “I’ll see you there tomorrow

tonight, right?”

Trinity threw him a cold look over her shoulder on her way out the office and then

closed the door behind her.

Once outside, she walked down the sidewalk of the main road that cut through

town.

The residential area was on the east side of town, with all the necessary stores,

restaurants and hotels on the main drag. Tourist activity, which the place survived on,

had slowed the past five years, down to a trickle the last two, and finally ceased last

summer. Now the town seemed dead. And it wasn’t helped by the bleak spring weather.

Trinity stopped at a street corner and looked around. A few cars passed and then

all became quiet again.

Is it really even worth it, she wondered, turning her eyes toward the gray sky

spitting down drops of rain, to save this little town, to fight for it?

Trinity didn’t feel like fighting, because it took too much energy. At the moment,

she couldn’t care less about what happened one way or the other.

†

They watched from various buildings along the road, perched on rooftops, even

streetlights, like the seagulls that patrolled the nearby river. Some darker shadows

walked parallel to her, keeping a sharp eye out on this one little human.

The demons who had been stationed here for decades knew about this warrior. It

was important to keep her in view at all times because she had a knack for ruining their

plans.

But this time there were no towering angels guarding her, and this allowed the

demons to relax a little. Some sneered at her and bared their teeth when she passed by.

The once intimidating prayer warrior had fallen silent.

She didn’t want to fight and that made their job easier.

†

Trinity felt a familiar, gentle nudging in her soul. Shaking her head, she closed her

eyes. She knew that urging, that calling to fight, to act, but she so badly didn’t want to.

“If you keep staring at the sky like that, people are going to think there’s

something wrong with you.”

Breaking from her thoughts, she looked at the man approaching. “Well, hello, DC.

Still ruining your life by running Vincent’s drugs?”

DC stopped beside her and shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talkin' about.”

Trinity snorted and rolled her eyes. “Right. You also one of the people responsible

for the harassment and vandalism going around?"

She may not have wanted to get involved in this round of warfare, but she was still

unable to keep from confronting the enemy. Well, she called in "confronting." Chase

called it "taunting."

She didn’t give DC the time to answer before she turned to him, a dark expression

in her eyes. “You do know that when there’s finally enough evidence to take Vincent

down, Jerome is going to get to him before the cops do, and then he’ll go after all of

Vincent’s employees. Clean house, tie up loose ends, whatever. So I’d consider relocating

and changing employers…”

One of DC's jaw muscles twitched, but he said nothing.

Trinity was about to continue when a strong, sharp pain stabbed through her

temple, faded, then came back a couple seconds later. It was then accompanied by

pounding. She knew who was coming before she even saw him or heard him speak.

“What have we here? Trinity McFiercson’s finally come back to town.”

†

Since all but one of his officers had abandoned post, Chief Castillo was out on

patrol, an activity that proved to be pointless as of late. It wasn’t because drivers here

followed the law, but because he rarely saw anyone on the roads anymore. It was like the

place had become a ghost town. Very strange.

A massive angel filled the backseat. He’d been with Castillo through his tours in

Afghanistan and Iraq, and then when he'd retired and taken up this remote, and dark,

Alaskan post. Both the human and his guardian bore scars from a number of close calls

with evil.

Stopping at the light, Castillo drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Man, he

was bored, but patrol was expected.

His mind kept drifting back to the file on Jerome, although he also noted the file

on Vincent had been getting steadily thicker. Following in his cousin’s footsteps no

doubt.

Maybe he should just head back to the station now…

Reaching forward, the angel tapped Castillo on the shoulder. “You’ll want to turn

right and go around again first.”

After a couple seconds, Castillo turned right, onto the main road. One more time

around the block wouldn’t hurt.

Eyes sweeping across the vacant town, his spotted a small group of people at the

next stoplight.

†

Trinity turned and fully faced Jerome, who had at least five inches of height and a

hundred pounds of muscle on her. His dark brown eyes taunted her and she could

almost see the demons perched on his shoulders.

She eyed his jeans and shirt. “No suit? Really, Jerome, I think you’re getting lax

with your dress code.”

Her eyes flicked to the men on either side of him, “We can't have people seeing

you for what you really are.”

Jerome’s eyes narrowed. He’d never been able to stand a single word that came out

of Trinity’s mouth.

He made a sound with his tongue, glancing over his shoulder at his two associates.

“See, no respect.”

Trinity drilled him with hard look. “I don’t respect people who stir up problems,

force people out of their homes and, especially, deal with demons.”

Her eyes slide over to DC, “That brings a different kind of trouble, and we don’t

want it in our town.”

Jerome took a step towards Trinity, his jaw muscles tight, eyes wild with anger.

“Tread carefully, McFiercson,” he seethed, “otherwise your time will come sooner rather

than later.”

A corner of Trinity’s mouth lifted into a half smile as she met his gaze, truly

unafraid of him, “What are you gonna do? Burn a piece of paper with my name on it

during one of your rituals?”

She took a half step forward so they were nose to nose. “You’re just a puppet and

when they get what they want they’ll leave you in ruin, if they don’t destroy you first.”

Jerome’s nostrils flared in rage and he was a second from doing something rash

when a siren chirped in the street behind Trinity.

“Is there a problem?”

Jerome cleared his throat and took a couple steps back, straightening his shirt. “No

problem, officer. Just a little friendly discussion.”

“Whatever. McFiercson, come with me. Now.”

Trinity walked backwards to the squad car and got into the passenger’s seat. Chief

Castillo gave Jerome and his men one more look over before pulling away.

“You’ve got some real guts, you know that?” asked Castillo.

“What?” said Trinity. “I was actually minding my own business. He started it.”

They drove in silence for a minute, and Trinity was about to ask him what was on

his mind when he said, “Perry left this morning. Going to visit family in Fairbanks for a

while.”

“That doesn’t bode well for the case against Vincent,” said Trinity.

“No,” growled Castillo. “Perry was the lead, but he’s gone, so now I have to go

through everything he had on him.”

They stopped at a red light with no other car waiting at the intersection.

“Yeah, they make quite a pair don’t they,” muttered Trinity.

“Look, the reason I asked you to get in the car, aside from saving you from a

beating…”

She gave him a look, “Jerome doesn’t scare me.”

Castillo returned her look with one of his own as he continued, “You’ve done

undercover work for us before.”

The light turned green and Castillo hung a left.

“Hardly,” replied Trinity. “I just have a knack for being in the wrong place at the

right time.”

“Point is: you overhear things.”

“Not on purpose.”

Castillo was getting exasperated with her too. “Look, if you hear anything, could

you please give me a heads up?”

He pulled over, half a block from where she’d parked her car.

“Don’t I always?” she asked when she got out.

“Mmm. Just be careful, Trinity.”

Trinity closed the door and Castillo continued on down the road. She remained

where she was and blew through her lips, hands in her coat pockets.

Yup, she thought as she started walking, just another day in paradise.

Chapter 4

Escape

Splintering wood, flying debris. The door to the apartment crashed in, ripped off

its hinges. They stormed down the short hallway and into the living room, guns in hand.

They were driven by hate as they searched the place, wanting, needing to find the

occupants.

“Here!” shouted someone from the back room. They ran down another hall, heavy

shoes thumping against the wood floor.

“Down the fire escape!”

The leader of the squad growled with anger and grabbed the little radio on his hip.

“They’re in the back alley. Kill them now, by any means necessary.”

“I doubt they’ll be coming back,” spoke one of the members, “there’s a closet where

they stored luggage. Looks like some of its missing.”

The commander’s chest rumbled with another growl of frustration. He picked up

the small lamp on the dresser and hurled it at the window, shattering it. “Everyone out!”

he ordered. “There’s nothing of use here.”

†

They sprinted down the side street. If it hadn’t been for the full moon, they would

have tripped in one of the countless potholes.

The brothers ducked around the side of a building, trying to quiet their labored

breathing and listen for sounds of the death squad coming after them.

The older sibling cautiously peered around the corner. Seconds later, two assassins

appeared, fifty feet away. After looking about a couple seconds, they turned in the

direction the brothers had gone and jogged that way, steps eerily quiet, stealthy.

Bumping into his younger brother, he gestured for them to run to the other end of

their alley. They took off again.

Nightlife was quiet on this side of the LA suburbs and they needed to get closer to

downtown, where there were more people to get lost amongst. From there, they’d have to

decide what to do. If they lived that long.

And what the brothers didn’t realize at the time was they were being watched,

from the tops of the houses, buildings, and fences. Every turn they made was being

monitored.

“He isn’t going to like this,” said the ugly little demon.

“He doesn’t like anything,” replied the massive shadow with a deep voice and

gleaming crimson eyes, “good news or bad.”

“But how did we not see it! The brothers have been with the Order for years, why

didn’t we see they’d come to salvat—”

He didn’t get to finish as the shadow smacked him on the head. “Shut up!

Surveillance of the Order and its members was your duty. It was your failure.”

Resembling a gargoyle, the smaller demon hopped onto the corner of the safety

wall around the roof and watched the brothers cross the main road.

“Why aren’t you ordering a full scale attack on them?”

“Are you daft?” growled the commander. “Our enemy is likely laying in wait for us.

The brothers are valuable and will be greatly protected. We have to wait for

reinforcements and for the humans to catch up…or you could lead your own assault and

see how that goes.”

The smaller demon shrank slightly and opted for silence.

Rolling his eyes, the commander kicked the gargoyle in the rump. “Why are you

still sitting here? Make sure our squad keeps track of the humans!”

Fluttering away, the creature took off after the brothers to join the others

following them.

Sighing, the commander ran a hand down his face.

†

Spencer tapped his little brother on the arm when he pulled up again. “Wait, just a

sec,” he breathed.

“What do you mean ‘wait’?” asked Garret, looking over his shoulder at the empty

street. “We need to keep moving.”

“But where is everyone?” whispered Spencer. “This part of town is usually packed

this time of night.”

Garret just shook his head and repositioned the small black duffel slung over his

shoulder. “It doesn’t matt—”

He stopped when Spencer raised his hand, listening. There! Quiet footsteps.

They ran across the road and down another side street. There were more footsteps

coming now, running. When the brothers reached an alley that crossed their street they

saw a pair of assassins coming towards them.

Spencer nearly barreled over Garret when he jumped to the side. “Go, go!” he

shouted as they took off at full sprint.

Two more men stepped into their alley, making them backpedal and turn right.

Another man appeared!

The brothers looked around. They were completely trapped. The assassins

wouldn’t shoot since they were each coming from different directions and risk hitting one

another. However, as soon as they closed the space and got their hands on them…

A crash came from behind Garret and he felt someone grab him by the back of the

coat. He was yanked into the darkness of a building, stumbling over the step.

“Grab my coat and follow me,” whispered Spencer.

The moment Garret grabbed him, his brother took off running. Twice they ran

into mysterious metal objects hidden in the blackness. Fortunately, the little window in

the door at the back of the room showed them where they needed to go.

The door they’d entered creaked slowly on its hinges, weak light from outside

spilling into the warehouse. Black shadows moved silently inside and disappeared into

the dark.

Reaching the door, Spencer groped for the handle. He gave it a twist. It wasn’t

locked but didn’t want to turn. The assassins probably already knew where they were, so

he threw his shoulder against the door, unconcerned about the noise he was making.

While his big brother worked on their escape, Garret was investigating the table

that had caught him at the hip.

As his hands fumbled over random objects in the pitch blackness, his brain told

him it was some kind of workbench. He stopped feeling around when his fingers touched

something long and metal with some weight behind it. Thinking it might come in handy,

he grabbed it and edged back towards Spencer, still fighting the door.

What they also couldn’t see was the stringy demon who was holding the door

closed from the outside. It cackled with a devious snicker, sulfur spewing from its

nostrils.

“Come on,” grunted Spencer, bracing his foot against the wall. “Let go!” he growled

with a strong pull.

There was a flash of light as the demon vanished into vapor and his assailant

disappeared from sight.

At the same moment, the door suddenly gave and flew open. They stumbled into

the street when Spencer felt something zip past his ear. The small hole in the wall in front

of him appeared and it took his mind a full second to realize it was from a bullet.

Ducking, they turned left, another bullet just grazing the back of Garret’s coat.

They could hear the sound of traffic now. If they were where Spencer thought they were,

all they to do was cut through a small residential area and make it to the park. Then

they’d be at one of the main boulevards.

They crossed another alley before Spencer backpedaled, causing Garret to run into

him. “Back!”

Sprinting, they hung a right at the alley they’d just passed, more bullets biting into

the building.

†

The demon squad that had been ordered to track the two humans was getting

restless. One of them finally had enough of this waiting business and dive-bombed the

brothers. Coming in low, he caught Garret in the legs, tripping him and sending him

down hard to the concrete.

It cut around, shrieking with laughter and drew its sword. Getting plenty of

encouragement from its friends, the demon came around for a second pass.

Garret was just being pulled to his feet by Spencer, and the assassins were strides

from stepping into the alley, when it lined up for another pass.

The demon was a dozen feet from the brothers and was coming in fast. That's

when a loud metallic ring pierced the quiet of the night. A large warrior, blazing like the

sun, shot from the building on the right, across the alley and into the structure on the

other side, taking the demon with him.

Two more warriors appeared out of nowhere and dispatched the small tracking

squad as a fifth angel walked behind the two men, hiding them from the assassins’ eyes

until the brothers had a chance to get out of the alley.

†

Their shoes pounded against the concrete, wet from the evening’s scattered

storms. On the horizon behind the city, lightning flickered and flashed, glinting off the

skyscrapers that reached into the darkness above.

As they ran towards the park they were becoming aware they were getting tired,

they were sweaty, and their clothes were clinging to them. It wasn’t helped by the

humidity of the evening.

Cutting between two houses, they aimed for the road when something collided

with Spencer, taking him straight to the ground.

Garret didn’t hesitate a second as he lifted the wrench, which had grown quite

heavy with all the running, and swung at the assailant. It made contact with the man’s

head.

Where’s his friend, ran a thought through Garret’s head. That’s right! They traveled

in—

Before he had time to process what was happening, he saw Spencer look at

something behind him. His brother released a war cry that could have only come from

sheer survival instinct and threw himself at whatever was coming.

Garret spun in time to come face to face with the second assassin—until he was

tackled by Spencer. On his way down, the assailant sliced Spencer across the side. When

they hit the ground he kicked Spencer off of him.

He and the assassin rolled to their feet at nearly the same time, the killer still

wielding the knife expertly…before he collapsed to the ground.

Spencer looked around, confused, until he spotted Garret holding the gun with an

expression of wide-eyed shock on his face. He dropped the gun as Spencer ran up to him.

Garret’s expression didn’t relax any as he continued to look down the row of houses. A

soft gasp escaped him and he turned, breaking into a run again.

Spencer looked back just long enough to see figures moving swiftly through the

shadows towards them.

Crossing the road, they sprinted through several yards and vaulted an ancient

wooden fence that dumped them into a small clump of trees.

One of the few coherent thoughts that ran through Spencer’s mind was that he

was glad it was night. That way he couldn’t see what kinds of spiders and other insects he

was running through and were probably crawling on him now.

Running down another quiet road and through a large puddle, they pulled up

along the side of a house. They tried, with little success, to quiet their breathing so they

could listen.

Seconds later the sound of steady footfalls reached their ears.

Garret stifled a cry of desperation. They weren’t going to make it. They should just

turn themselves in now and get it over with.

But Spencer yanked him by the arm and he stumbled back into a run.

Reaching the next street, they dodged between two passing cars, the drivers laying

on their horns. They scrambled up a short, steep grassy incline, saturated and soft from

the recent rain.

Once on the crest, the brothers ran along the top of the hill. Ahead, at the base of

the hill, was the park. Beyond that was the outskirts of downtown, busy and packed with

nightlife.

Spencer and Garret ran pell-mell down into the park, each jarring step ran up their

legs and reverberated pain through their stomachs. They may have had naturally lean

body types, but that didn’t mean they were in shape.

The park was dark, with inky shadows stretching in odd shapes across the ground.

Their adrenaline spiked even more with each bush or tree they passed in anticipation of

someone jumping out and grabbing them.

Lightning flicked above the thick tree canopy, followed shortly by a rumble of

thunder.

Spencer suddenly grabbed Garret by the back of the coat and jerked him behind a

pair of oaks. Spencer held up his hand, signaling for silence. Seconds later, Garret saw

what his brother had reacted to.

Under another bright flash of lightning, two men were moving stealthily through

the park, sweeping in from the right. There had been at least one other person coming in

from the left.

Doubt and despair again pressed down on Garret. It was totally hopeless. They

never should have even snooped through the Order’s files in the first place…never should

have taken the files.

“Stay low and follow me,” whispered Spencer as loudly as he dared.

Garret readjusted the duffel strap that was digging into his shoulder and nodded.

Spencer waited a couple seconds before creeping forward, sticking to the shadows

and underbrush. Lightning flickered almost constantly now, answered by thunder that

rolled in the black sky, making even the earth tremble.

Pausing a dozen feet later, they crouched, brush to their right, tree on their left.

They watched two men pass by their position and move on, still searching. Spencer was

seconds from continuing onward when a shadow actually came from behind them and

passed to their left.

The tall man stopped a second, gun in hand at his side, as he methodically scanned

the area with trained eyes. Not seeing anything, he shook his head at a comrade, another

mere shadow, and moved on.

A coat rustled against some brush, just feet from their right. Another assassin!

Spencer wondered exactly how many could really be out there.

When he returned his attention the situation a second later, the man was gone.

After waiting a few moments more, Spencer crept onward, feeling his gut get

tighter and tighter the closer they made it to the road.

†

On either side of them walked two large angels, wings spread, shielding them from

the eyes of the assassins. There were a few pairs of them in the park also, any attempt to

even momentarily keep the demons guessing, searching.

It didn’t keep the enemy looking for long.

The demons appeared out of the treetops and assaulted the eight angels in the

park. Clashing swords rang loudly, intertwined with the growling thunder and gales that

ripped through the trees.

One of the two warriors guarding the brothers stayed just far enough ahead of his

opponent to safely chance a look over his shoulder. They were fifty feet away when one of

the assassins spotted them.

With a strong parry, he blocked the demon’s strike and brought his own sword

down in a glowing arch of light, cutting him in half.

Spinning, he rocketed through the trees with one powerful thrust of his wings. He

saw the attack coming and pulled a sharp right, zigzagging around the trunks, enemy on

his heels.

Three other assassins spotted the brothers and quietly moved in, closing the net.

Cutting left, the angel shot through a pair of demons about to advance on one of

his comrades and continued right for Spencer and Garret.

The two nearest assassins, to the brother’s left, stopped and lined up a shot.

The demons were swarming around them, screeching vile and murderous ideas at

the assassins.

Another assault was coming in fast from the left and the angel didn’t know if he

would make it in time.

Blinding flashes! The park lit up as if lightning itself had struck. Three heavenly

warriors dropped in and dispatched the approaching demons.

Mustering all the speed he could from his massive wings, the angel shot for

Spencer and Garret, barreling square into their legs.

†

Spencer tripped on something and pitched forward. Garret tripped on his foot and

landed beside him.

They fell a split second before the two assassins pulled the triggers of their guns.

Instead of the brothers, the bullets ended up in two of their companions, who had been

standing on the opposite side of Spencer and Garret.

The brothers watched as two pairs of legs ran past their faces and down the little

rise on the right. More shadows moved towards the two bodies crumpled on the ground.

Run now!

Spencer pulled his brother to his feet and they ran through the shadows.

In the confusion of what had happened, no one paid any notice to them as they

reached the other end of the park and crossed the street. There the brothers vanished

into the growing crowds mingling about the streets.

They had their lives. And the documents.