But the archangel lifted his knee as high as he could to kick Caliban back.
He lost ground as he fought to keep the angel off me, and I understood the threefold problem. Azrames could not kill an archangel. Caliban was fighting to keep me alive above any other form of victory, which limited his moves. And I was a goddamn liability.
I had no moves. I had no skills. There was nothing I could do to help.
Except…
I plunged my hand into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the poppet. I yanked it free from the fabric and did the only thing I knew how to do. Fear and sickness fought for my attention as I pressed the figurine to my mouth. I’d barely whispered his name before the snarling angel whipped around in wide-eyed surprise. He turned in time to take a fist to the jaw as Silas made contact with his face.
Caliban abandoned the battle to run to me.
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
“Not yet.” I pointed over his shoulder.
A white-and-gold lightning bolt cut the sky.
Silas had come. If he could get me out of the battle, my demons might just stand a chance.
“Az,” Caliban barked. Azrames was at my side in a flash while the remaining angel yelled behind us, glinting with two metallic sheens where their wings might be.
“You’ve already fallen from grace,” the stranger said to Silas. “Go with dignity.”
“This is why I was created,” Silas growled in return as he spun on the adversary, catching him off guard. The enemy barely had the chance to defend himself from the move as Silas used his free hand to draw his weapon. “This is justice.”
Azrames reached toward me.
“No!” I recoiled. I couldn’t leave. Not yet.
“You’re no brother of mine,” growled the rose-gold angel.
Silas came down from above just as Caliban swept from below, lodging his sword into the back of the angel’s legs, slicing the tendons that held him together. The angel cried out in pain and fell toward Silas. He reached not at him, but through him.
Silas gasped, dropping his sword as the angel made a fist somewhere deep within Silas. Caliban got to his feet, dislodging his sword from the man’s legs before plunging it through his back, spearing him through the heart.
In the time it took the angel to go down, the new archangel managed one final yank.
His hand tore free of Silas’s chest, something glimmering caught in his fist.
With it went Silas’s shimmer as the golden halo of his eyes winked out.
