I’d gotten used to teleporting large groups, but not when they were scattered all over the place. It was incredibly disorienting to pull Lows from my guest house and from my homes in Hel, Terrelle and Nils from halfway across the fucking globe, and other demons from Eresh and Dis. Then I overshot our destination by about five hundred feet and dumped us all right in the middle of a firefight.

The good news was having a bunch of demons and a Fallen angel appear out of nowhere completely freaked out our opposition. Unfortunately, it also freaked out the angels. The resultant screams and diving to the ground on both sides was pretty damned funny. As was the fact that I’d given my little army no warning whatsoever, and they were yanked onto a battlefield right in the middle of whatever they were doing. Terrelle was holding a toothbrush. Nils was naked with an erection. A few of my Lows were holding slices of pizza or beers, or had interesting objects protruding from their asses. The best was Zalanes, who appeared holding a durft, which he promptly threw with a startled scream. Luckily he was facing the demons, and the durft landed in their midst.

The animal was pissed. I’m pretty sure it was pissed before it left Hel and being teleported then thrown through the air didn’t help its mood any. Thus, my first success in this fight was sending a dozen battle-hardened demons running and screaming from a furry vicious animal.

We might not have been prepared, but my little army quickly got with the program, which meant we all scattered in different directions, doing whatever the fuck we felt like. A few of the Lows took the advice I’d given to Snip and hid behind the nearest set of wings, trying to throw rocks from between angels’ legs. Others were screaming like little berserkers, hitting demons with their pizza slices and beer bottles, or whatever they’d had in their asses—which was proving to be surprisingly effective.

I revealed my sword and did a delicate balancing act between killing demons and slowly retreating, diminishing their numbers while drawing them into the mountain pass Gregory had selected. He and the others were keeping the demons from making headway anywhere else, funneling them gradually into our trap.

As I swung the sword with my inexpert hand, I reached out to sense the demons. Ten thousand, give or take a few hundred. I felt them, knew their general locations. Our trap was working, and from what I could tell, no armies were swarming through the other gates from Hel. Fake Samael was at the rear, Doriel and her forces holding back as well. I’d imagined she was using some excuse about protecting him for not advancing, and I wasn’t sure this fraud would call her on the apparent cowardice, since he was doing the same.

The real Samael would have led his army up front, not huddled in the back like this dickhead. Although given that the real Samael was probably still at my house eating cookies and drinking milk, maybe not.

I wasn’t sure how to reconcile Samael the legend, Samael the playful, powerful archangel, Samael the loving brother, with the being I’d spoken to in my bedroom. He’d just walked away from it all. I imagined the Angels of Chaos after the fall, confused and injured, devastated by their banishment to Hel. They would have looked for him, needing his guidance and leadership.

And he’d walked away.

We fought for hours, destroying buttes and leaving nothing alive on the scorched earth. The whole time the angels closed in from the sides, werewolf packs helping to ensure none of the demon army broke from the narrow pass we’d herded them to.

I felt a sudden unease, and knew the demons had realized their mistake. Now. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number, hoping Criam got Doriel the burner phone I’d bought, and that someone had shown her at least how to turn it on. She didn’t have to know how to work the thing, just enough to hear the ring-tone.

The next few minutes felt like hours. If Doriel didn’t get my message, or if she changed her mind, or if “Samael” suspected she was a spy, this would all be for naught. The demons would retreat and spread back out, and we would have lost our chance at dealing them a crippling blow.

Then the demons surged forward, trapped. I sent my little army into the mix, happy to see several units of angels fighting right beside them. Pulling my phone back out, I dialed one more number, and almost immediately saw a host of winged demons overhead. The angels had a moment of panic, but pressed forward with renewed energy once they saw the new arrivals were fighting on our side.

Remiel. The Ancient himself had continued to remain neutral, but at my last visit, he’d agreed to supply me with one hundred of his household—specifically those who could manifest a winged form and were reliably good fighters. Demons fell before us. Those still alive and fighting were panicked, unable to advance or retreat, and also fighting off an aerial attack. I felt the sharp bite of “Samael’s” anger, knew that Doriel was in the unenviable position of having to fight the fake Samael and keep pressure on the demons wedged into the mountain pass. We were winning. Soon, enough of the demons would have died that the rest would surrender to us. We were winning.

And then we weren’t.

I gasped, dropping to my knees as my senses were hit with an onslaught of thoughts and emotions. Ten thousand had dwindled to eight, but suddenly there were more. My head ached and I frantically tried to figure out what was going on.

The gate. The gate in Seattle. Instead of trying to come through the other gateways and seize other cities while we were preoccupied here, “Samael” had directed all his remaining forces to the one gate he already held. And seeing how the battle was going, he’d brought them all through.

Thirty thousand demons. Twenty of them were Ancients.

And they were killing everyone who opposed them, opening up a retreat for the demons we’d trapped. I felt them all shift, then run for it, angels and winged demons chasing them.

“Stop!” I yelled. Then I yanked my phone out.

S has backup. Rear collapsing. Block and hold. Numbers too large to engage.

I sent the text to the archangels, revealed my wings and took flight, weaving around Remiel’s fighters as well as the occasional bolt of energy to get enough altitude to truly see what was going on.

The angels were holding the perimeters, but behind me Doriel’s forces were being slaughtered. Their deaths hit me like a physical blow. I felt Doriel’s scream of pain, sensed her spirit-self unraveling at the edges.

No.

In a blink I was there, sword raised to absorb the attack. My hands shook, the force of the blow knocking me a few feet backward. I nearly stepped on a fallen Doriel, her physical form bloodied and torn, her spirit-self horribly injured.

Get my household out of here. Her words were laced with agony. I can hold him back long enough. Save my household.

I sensed them, tried to hold the threads of their lives in my mind to teleport them to safety, but I couldn’t. It was one thing to do this with my own household, but I was too young, too inexperienced to do this with a group of demons I didn’t know, that I could barely feel as my own.

So instead I planted my feet, sword at the ready, and faced “Samael”. Without a second’s hesitation, he hammered me with energy blasts. I swung the sword wildly, deflecting those I couldn’t absorb. And by the time I’d come up for air, he was gone.

Gone. Fucker ran away. If I hadn’t known before that he was an imposter, I would have now.

I watched the few stray demons as they retreated, sensing the bulk of them on the other side of the mountains. Twenty Ancients and “Samael”. Thirty thousand demons. We’d been so close, but here we were, right back where we’d started this morning. Actually, worse off since “Samael’s” army was stronger than before, and I’d just blown the only two tricks I’d had.

The favor from Remiel was one-and-done. And Doriel… I went over to her and helped her stand. She’d repaired the critical wounds on her physical form, but she was depleted and her spirit-self seriously injured. She wouldn’t be fighting again for a long time. And of her two-thousand-member household, only the fifty demons surrounding us remained. I felt sick at the thought. She’d been one of the few Ancients to support me. She’d pledged herself and her household to me, and put them all in danger behind enemy lines. When I’d told her my plans, I’d never expected this as the outcome.

The loss of her household, her injuries—it was all my fault. I’d let her down.

“I let you down,” she told me. “I failed. I failed Samael during the war, and now I failed you.”

I put my arm around her to hold her upright. “I fucked up. I’m shit at this strategy stuff, at this battle stuff. I’m a damned imp, not an archangel.”

“You’re the Iblis,” she gasped. “You don’t have to be good at battle, you just have to be the Iblis.”

Clearly she was hallucinating from pain, because being the Iblis meant being good at diplomacy, negotiation, building consensus and bringing demons together for a common goal—and battle, both strategy and fighting. None of those skills were in my wheelhouse, and as hard as I tried, I didn’t seem to be learning fast enough.

“Hel?” I asked her. “Or my home here? You relax and I’ll transport you and your household.”

“Hel. My home. Criam… I need Criam near me.” She took a few ragged breaths and slumped against me. “I will send any uninjured back to help you. I will rally the other Ancients, work to convince them to support you. I’ll be here for the next battle.”

“No, you won’t. You’re in no shape for fighting. You’ll be killed.”

“Should have died two-and-a-half-million years ago anyway.” She looked up at me, her dark eyes starting to lose their focus. “I fight. I fight until we win, or I die.”

I caught my breath at the thought of such loyalty. And I hoped that I could prove myself worthy of it.