‘Glad I’m not afraid of heights,’ I said as we got out, trying to keep our balance as we walked along the glass rooftop. Lincoln quickly wedged his backpack between the elevator and a supporting pylon while I noted, somewhat desperately, that there was no railing or wall surrounding the roof perimeter. If the wind pushed us too far in one direction, we could easily plummet to our death.
At the tip of the eastern arm of the building’s cross, closest to the river, Sammael – dressed in a modern black suit with shiny lapels, sans tie – stood in the centre of a large pentagram drawn in what looked a lot like blood with white stuff scattered over it.
‘Blood and salt,’ Lincoln said. ‘A life pentagram.’
Sammael smiled, hearing us despite the wicked wind blowing at this height and the rain that now sheeted down. Two exiles stood at each point of the pentagram, though I suspected their purpose was more to do with security than any ritual. More curiously, four women stood behind him. And they were not exiles. They looked like gypsies but I could sense that they were Nephlim. Possibly his own progeny.
‘Salt represents this earth, you see,’ Sammael pronounced, adjusting his belt and exposing the long sword sheathed at his side. ‘All rituals require unions. Blood, life, earth and sacrifice. With my power and your blood – the life force of angels – I can cross the realms and he will meet me.’ He stood tall, despite his short stature. Proud.
‘Why the tournaments? Why bother with the elaborate setting? Was it just to get your kicks?’ I asked.
Sammael’s expression changed to one of amusement. ‘It is the dawn of all tomorrows and I will be god to all who survive. Let’s just say I’m trimming the fat.’
And finally, I understood. He wanted them all gone. That was why he had lured such a vast number of the strongest and most competitive exiles to the same place at the same time. It ensured his end result and reduced the competition. Through our bond I could feel Lincoln’s disgust.
Sammael’s enjoyment only seemed to increase as he gauged our reaction. ‘I must admit, I expected you to bring more bodyguards with you. However, since you have made it so easy for me, perhaps I should just allow my exiles to take out your partner now and we can bleed you after.’
My eyes flicked to the exiles now edging in our direction. I grabbed Lincoln’s hand and he didn’t hesitate to open his power to me, giving me whatever I wanted to take.
My amethyst mist, now speckled with Lincoln’s colours, surrounded us, and with a determined will I sent it out to do my bidding.
One by one, as my eyes remained glued to Sammael’s, I brought the ten exiles under my control and held them still. To drive my point home I stripped the power from one, then two, then four of the closest exiles, releasing them as they dropped to their knees screaming. Now only human.
‘I wouldn’t say I’ve made it so easy,’ I said, trying to hide the fact that even I was surprised it had gone so smoothly. I still had the other six well under my control and I was tempted to just get it over with and return them for judgement, but until I had Spence I needed bargaining chips.
‘I’ve seen that trick before,’ Sammael said, feigning boredom, though I noticed a telltale twitch at his jaw that suggested otherwise. ‘Release them,’ he said.
I did as he commanded, watching as the stunned exiles turned fierce eyes first on me and then on the four – now humans – who had been reduced to nothing more than rodents in their eyes. Before I could blink, they grabbed the four men and threw them straight off the building. My stomach turned over while I did my best to keep my expression neutral.
Sammael smiled, knowingly. ‘Consequences, Violet. Aren’t you tired of them?’
CHaPteR tHIRty-fOUR
‘I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils.’
Euripides
‘you said you would release Spence’s mind!’ I yelled into the wind, keeping my feet wide apart for balance. ‘I’m here! Release him!’
Sammael produced an oversized silver chalice with intricate designs etched into it. It hummed with an energy I instantly recognised. Lincoln squeezed my hand, letting me know he had made the connection too.
He has a tabernacle.
The first tabernacle I had come across had been in Jordan, and in an offering of exile and Grigori blood it had produced the ancient scriptures once hidden away by angels.
I now understood from where Sammael was drawing the extra power that would help him cross the realms. A relic from the time when angels walked on the earth – imbued with their power.
Sammael looked at his watch. ‘We only have minutes left. Fill it.’
The women standing behind Sammael stepped back, as if moving into position. I noticed then that their eyes had changed since I first looked. The whites and irises had been replaced with pure black. They were Nephlim, but they were also something else.
‘It’s too big. She’ll bleed out!’ Lincoln yelled.
‘Release Spence first!’ I yelled at the same time.