Sachiel whistled, long and low. “Something real bad happened here, I can feel it.”
His wife nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. “There’s malicious energy here.”
“We were called for a reason,” Bal said, a grim look etched on his handsome face. “I didn’t really think we’d be coming to a welcoming sight.”
“But if he needs us, where is Luce?” Remi demanded. A crackle of energy swept over them as though Remi had spoken it into existence. Likebirdsdrawn to a homingbeacon,seven heads snapped upwards in unison—just as a vibrant wash of white light came blasting out of an upper floor window like a bomb, until it crashed into a barrier of power that contained and dissipated it.
“He was prepared for the worst,” Bal murmured, crossing the street with the rest following like lemmings. They all hesitated at the edge of the property, as if they weren’t sure they could cross the barrier.
“Luce,” Mags breathed out quietly, and Bal took another step forward. Another violent shock rocked the earth, knocking him on his rear, and Glory hurried to help him up as a strange sound began emanating from the ruined structure.
One moment it was a subtle patter, like a few stray stones had been kicked down a flight of stairs. And then with a loud groan and a sudden shake, the walls crashed down.
Drywall and plaster crumbled and snapped under the weight of the upper floors; brick and concrete broke off in chunks from the exterior. It seemed to happen in slow motion and hyper speed all at once, the sodden ground slowing their progress as they pushed past the wall of power and hurried forward.
Where Foster’s apartment had once stood now lay a collapsed pile of waterlogged and charred debris. In the aftermath, the silence felt entirely too loud. And then a sound like a groan came from beneath the rubble.
“Lucifer!” Remi shrieked. Without hesitation, she bolted straight toward the center of the pile.
“Remi, wait!” Rag chased his wife, terror cooling his own blood as the love of his life ran towards something that had been powerful enough to buryLuciferunder a building.
Another wave of energy swept out in a blinding white blast. Remi slammed up short against it and was thrown backwards like a ragdoll. She collided with Rag’s broad chest, and he instantly wrapped his arms around her, falling to his knees to hunker against the pressure that bore down on them. He shifted to tuck Remi slightly under him, regaining his bearings, but found himself unable to return to full height under the onslaught of power washing over them.
There was a strangled sound from behind them, and a keening wail. Rag lifted his head to look back and saw Mags on her knees, eyes wide with terror. Bal supported Glory, who had apparently fainted. The other man barely kept his footing and lifted a hand to point shakily at the wreckage that had once been an apartment. Rag turned back. His heart sank like a stone into his gut. In the center of the demolished plot, Foster Morningstar was glowing like a small, furious sun.
“Foster,” Rag murmured. Remi stirred in his grip, winding her arms around his neck and using his sturdy form to support herself as she struggled to her feet. Rag placed his wide hands on her slender waist, guiding and bracing her as she fought to stand against the crushing onslaught of power.
“Foster!” she shouted, the oppressive wind snatching her words away. She cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and bellowed, “FOSTER!”
The glowing figure turned to face her, and the light pouring off him dimmed slightly. The wind died down, the pressure lessened, and the world went very still. He was listening.
“No one is here to hurt you,” Remi began, but was cut off by an eerie sound like a high, reedy whistle. Rag realized it was laughter and felt hisforebodingfeeling deepen into fear.
Foster took a step towards them, and when he spoke it was in a detached, slightly muddled voice. “I doubt you could hurt me if you tried.”
“We don’t want to!” Camiel shouted back, a wounded expression on her face. “How could you think we want to hurt you?”
“Everyone else has tried,” Foster scoffed. “I’m tired of being toyed with.”
“I’m tired of no one taking you seriously as a threat,” Remi said, rising to full height. Her eyes glowed red as her war paintspread over her pale skin. “We’ve been trying to save you, but maybe we just need to beat your spoiled ass.”
“Remi, no!” Rag tried to pull her back, and she shook him off, advancing toward Foster.
“You are a Fallen Angel, who followed my idiot father into exile. You taught me basic sparring moves and how to stab through armor,” Foster said, sounding amused at the idea. “But I am not afraid of you.”
“I’m so much more than that, little boy,” Remi snarled, fists clenched tightly at her sides.
“You’re a tired old woman,” Foster laughed. “If my father stands no chance, how could you?”
“The only reason your father isn’t strong enough to shut you down himself is because he gave each of us a portion of his power. I am the purest rage of Lucifer Morningstar made flesh. I’m not afraid to use that power against you.” She advanced on Foster with deadly focus, never wavering, never blinking. “I am fury incarnate. I’m not afraid of the temper tantrum of achild.”
Foster’s eyes narrowed, and the pure white light flared hot once again. “You will remember that I am the Prince of Hell.”
“You will remember I was born to wage wars and to win them.”
“Remiel,” a weary voice called out, and relief surged through Mags. Lucifer staggered to his feet from beneath the rubble, supporting a badly battered Michael by the waist. “Do not attempt to injure my son.”
That awful, reedy cackle came again from Foster. “You still try to pretend to be a good father?! Even now?”
