“What is it you require of us?” Rafael said.
“Despite our prayers, Asherah has not been seen for centuries,” Gabriel said. “As our faith was insufficient, we hoped to bring her to us with an offering of our devotion.” He swung his hands like he was opening a curtain and a thunderous roar rocked the stadium.
It punched into my solar plexus, hitting that deep primal part that urged me to simultaneously flee and curl into a ball, not drawing any attention to myself.
Most of the Gigis cowered, except for Lux, who merely winced, and Gabriel, who leaned forward, his eyes gleaming.
Every hair on my body standing on end, I spun slowly, and jumped. “Fuck balls! What’s that?”
Ten feet tall, with curving horns and the face of a goat, the creature had red-flecked eyes that were vertically slitted. Were Miles standing next to its powerful human body, you’d tell the Head of House Security to stop embarrassing himself and hit up a gym.
The creature beat his meaty fists against a barrier that shimmered and rippled in the hot air, and the Houdini cowered.
My shoulders slumped. There went my hopes that this was an illusion.
“Meet Ba’al,” Gabriel said. “God of fertility and storms, and coincidentally, also Asherah’s true love.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Know that in your death, you give him strength to call our goddess back.” He flicked his fingers and the barrier disappeared.
Ba’al howled and charged us with the fury of a prisoner loosed upon his captors. Spittle flew from his mouth in his rage.
So much for mostly harmless.
Chapter 6
Ba’al’s horns burst into flames, white-blue to orange-red and back again in an infinite undulation. His eyes glittered with malice and claws sprang from his fingers, the ground rumbling with each one of his steps.
Shoving Rafael sideways, I locked my blood armor into place and ran at the creature with a guttural cry. A blood red curved pike appeared in my hands, its satisfying weight bearing enough heft to do major damage. Sunlight glinted off its deadly sharp edge.
I stuck to a few tried and true weapons, low budget avenger that I was. Plus, my weapon deployment skills were pretty basic so no point getting fancy with some broadsword and losing my hand.
Raising the pike high, I swung downward into his neck, blood arcing out to spray me. Its hot tang failed to overpower the stench of wet clay that made me want to sneeze. None-too-gently, I ripped the pike out for my second swing, craving the sweet victory of this monstrosity’s head at my feet. I’d have to neutralize its magic first in case it had regenerative powers. I wasn’t taking anything off the table.
Ba’al lunged and grabbed me by the throat, but his claws couldn’t penetrate my armor. He ripped away the pike and slammed me onto the ground. Fire spat off his horns to crackle along my shield before dying out.
An eerie cackle burst out of me. He’d have to do better than that.
The shadow of Ba’al’s enormous foot fell over my face, but I caught it an inch away from impact, flipping him up and onto his back.
Jumping to my feet, I called up two darts that I fired into his eyes. One hit its mark, the other he crushed in his fist, dropping the twisted weapon in the dust.
He snorted, his nostrils flaring, and his head hanging at an odd angle, courtesy of my earlier maneuver. That’s right. Bring all that lovely blood closer for me to mainline into.
If this was a god, I’d eat my leather jacket. The scroll pieces of the Sefer that were merely made by an angel sent me into an uncontrollable longing. Put the actual angel feather in front of me and I’d slit my throat for a taste. I knew god magic. Or divine whatever-it-was. This upstart was nothing like that. Strong, sure, but barely a blip on the drive-me-into-terrible-longing radar. I could take it or leave it.
Rafael yelped, struggling against thick green vines that sprung from the ground to wind around his legs.
Paunchy dude sneered at me. Oh, I was so coming for him when this was over.
Ba’al sniffed the air. Extinguishing his flames, he bent his head, horns thrust forward, and changed course for the easy prey.
I raced after him, but he was faster than me.
The vines now waist-high, Rafael stared wide-eyed at the creature stampeding towards him.
Ba’al rammed into him, impaling my Attendant’s shoulder on his horn.
Rafael screamed, bone spearing through his shoulder.
“Noooo!” My lungs couldn’t inflate; my head spun. Rafael fussed about silly things like British English being the only English, berated me for microwaving water for tea, and would need an exorcism to sever tweed’s demonic hold on him. But I kept thinking about that time he’d listened to me talk about Adam, took my laptop away from me to help, and how he’d brought me a cup of tea, made the right way, when I couldn’t find words to encapsulate my grief.
He’d probably been about to apologize for the mess his death would make, damn him.
Not today.
Ignoring the stitch in my side and the searing pain flaring through my injured thigh, I leapt onto Ba’al’s back, my armor disappearing as I plunged one hand into the gaping wound on his neck. His flesh sucked my fist in deeper.
I gagged because yikes, that was new levels of disgusting, but still hooked my magic inside of him. Ba’al’s magic didn’t just feel wrong on a primal level, it was made up of so many different types that the overall taste was like swamp water that had been pissed in by a monster with a pus-spewing STI.
I spat several times to clear the taste, tightened my legs around his waist, and amped up my magic push, shaking with the strain. His magic was a mess, everything globbed together in a hardened gluey clump, underscored with a mindless pulsing hunger.
Ba’al jerked back, tearing his horn free from Rafael’s body.
Rafael screamed again, his eyes unfocused as the vines disappeared and he fell to the dust.
The false god raked his claws against my right forearm, which was clamped onto his bicep for balance, managing to elbow me hard in the boob. I flinched. Note to self: upgrade bra from all-day hold to Defender of the Realms.
The flesh on my arm turned black, burning with an acidic fire, and a demented cry tore from my throat. I wrested magic out of Ba’al in a thick smudgy stream and slammed it into an explosion of red forked branches.
The abomination bellowed.
I rested my head against his sweaty neck and bloomed the shit out of the white clusters.
Ba’al shuddered. His body flickered once, twice, and he imploded, sending me sprawling onto my ass. All that was left of him was a foot-long crude clay sculpture in his image laying on its side in the dust.
Those fuckers had used some kind of golem base.
“Rafael.” I cradled his head in my lap, one hand on the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Ba’al had ripped his shoulder open and Rafael’s arm and shoulder muscles glistened, a broken shard of bone protruding. “Get help!”
The Goddess Groupies stood in the bleachers frozen, wearing identical expressions of stupefaction.
Lux fell to her knees. “O Great Jezebel. Forgive us for not recognizing you.” She prostrated herself low. Like a row of dominoes, the rest of them followed suit, murmuring their apologies.
I lobbed the clay figure at them. Really? That was what they were sorry for? Not recognizing me? How about conjuring that thing up in first place? Or, I don’t know, offering to have a lunch date with us and failing to mention that we were the main course?