The return of the Angels

Prologue: Halloween

His feet splashed lightly into puddles as he walked, his cloak swishing around him. A chilly wind blew through the street, but he was protected from the worst of it. Two human children waddled across the lane dressed as witches, pointy black hats pinned to their heads. His lips curled in disgust at the human trappings of a holiday, almost mocking a world they should fear.

Power and triumph flooded his veins as he walked. Here, at last, was definitive proof of his success. Despite the efforts of Alexandra Soler, his Order or even God himself, no one would unify the Mages, descendants of fallen angels, and Adam's pitiful family, humans. The children prophesied to be the next Saviors, Unifiers of Worlds were going to die before they learned who they were.

"Nice costume, mister!"

He raised his head. The human boy who was hurrying in the opposite direction glimpsed under his cloak's hood. Lucifer smiled, showing his fangs as his eyes became a bright shade of red. The child's face went three shades lighter, fear colouring his expression. It was delightful, the way fear started in the eyes and spread outwards, eyebrows furrowing and mouth dropping open..

Murdering this child was an option, but Lucifer decided it was unnecessary. He had far more important prey to hunt tonight, and it wouldn't do to attract attention. A crowd of angry humans couldn't so much as rip his cloak, but it would be an inconvenience he didn't need, and someone would notice a child dropping...

So the child would live.

His destination loomed in front of him, a house with a fire flickering in the windows. What a charming, safe scene. The cottage's occupants sat inside, blissfully ignorant of how dangerous their situation was... They were simple humans, no one had told them about who their children were.

He paused by the dark hedge, starting over it. God, you could have tried a little harder to protect them. Not even the curtains are drawn...

The tall blond man sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other as he flicked through a book, the baby in his blue pyjamas snatching at the pages, giggling. The mother nestled the baby in pink in her arms at the other end of the couch, eyes shut and legs kicking softly.

As the mother spoke, her husband stood up, taking the boy and the girl into his arms. Then, she smiled at him as they both moved to another room.

His grip on the gate tightened and the gate itself creaked as he pushed it open and strode up the lane. But Laura Pritchett didn't notice. Her first mistake...

With a flick of his hand, he opened the door. Laura came flying into the room armed only with a butter knife. At the sight of his horns, she screamed: "John, take Henry and Lexy and go! It's him!"

So maybe they knew he was coming. They had a weird way of protecting themselves. Stupid humans.

"Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

With what? With a knife?

He was chuckling as he stepped over the corpse of Laura Pritchett, the red flash fading from the room. Upstairs he could hear John screaming as he tried to barricade himself into the bathroom. He was holding a gun, his hand trembling in fear. And yet he still thought he had a chance?

Perhaps he did. He, at least, had nothing to fear. So long as he was sensible. Lucifer didn't have to kill him, as long as he gave him the children. With another flick, he burst open the bathroom door, sending the meagre barricade flying against a wall. Baby clothes spilled across the floor as the hamper broke apart, plastic pieces rolling in all directions. One even rolled to rest mockingly beside John's foot...

He stood in front of the bathtub containing both children, gun pointed at the demon. John shot. To Lucifer's surprise, the bullet stung a little. It must have been laced with Aphrodate. John's eyes blew wide open as he realized his plan had not worked. I am the King of Demons, you cannot expect one bullet to end me. He spread his arms, protecting his children, as he tried to find words to save them, babble falling from her lips.

"Not them, not Lexy, not Henry... Please, not them!"

"Stand aside, now."

"Not my children, please no, take me, kill me, kill me and not them!"

"This is my last warning-"

"Have mercy... have mercy!" he moaned. "Not Henry! Not Lexy! I'll do anything!"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, you fool!"

He could have forced him away from the bathtub, tossed him into the wall as easily as that rocking chair, but he had given him several chances, yet he still stood between him and what he desired.

Red light flashed, and he dropped, the ghost of his desperation and fear still lingering in his glassy eyes. Both children were silent in the bathtub, staring at him. Clutching the white edges, the boy rouse and watched with interest. The girl sat where her father had previously placed . She just stared, not looking terribly interested. Her head tilted curiously as if to say 'oh, it's you?'

He stepped closer to the crib, his hood falling and showing his dark red complexion. The boy cried, making Lucifer frown. He'd never been able to listen to the small ones cry. No baby ever went to hell. Even if they undoubtedly should.

Satan stood there in silence, knowing he had time. No one knew he was here, no one was coming. He could take a moment to contemplate, to savour his victory. He had been awaited this moment for hundreds of years. It was so close he could taste it.

How could he enjoy this moment to the fullest?

He lifted the infants from the bathtub, holding them at arm's length. The girl blinked at him. Her chubby little hand reached out towards him. He reared back, surprised. But the girl just continued to stare at him, hand stretched out. Slowly, cautiously, he drew her closer, watching with some sort of fascination to see what she would do.

When she was within reach, she laid her chubby palm on his cheek. She made a sound for the very first time, a cheerful gurgle, almost a greeting.

Was she pleased to see him? Would she be as pleased if she comprehended what she had witnessed? Would she reach if she knew he had just stepped over her mother's corpse and left her to cool downstairs?

He imagined the savage pleasure, thinking about what he was going to do. He placed his fingertips against her left cheek. Her little mouth turned down as if she were annoyed. He dragged his fingers in a large, elegantly curved L. Where he touched, skin parted as smoothly as butter. Blood seeped from the thin wound.

Finally, finally, the child reacted to him in a normal way. She screwed up her face and cried, trying to pull away, but he gripped her head in place until he was finished. Her tiny hands clenched into fists in her irritation, face going red as she wailed her pain with all the gusto her tiny little lungs could muster.

He set the wailing, bleeding girl down in the crib. He would return to her later. Now he turned upon the boy. These screaming lumps of flesh might one day destroy all his work. It was ironic that they would defeat him, the greatest demon who had ever walked this earth. The demon who had delved farther into the mysteries of sorcery than anyone else ever had. And yet no chances could be taken.

He inhaled, placed his hand on the child's face. The boy cried louder and harder, and at the sound of his brother's wail, the girl too started screaming. His mouth turned down in a scowl once more as their voices drilled into his ears. The sound was defining; it bounced off the walls, creating a sort of harmony. Then, suddenly, they created a white, blinding light that leached from their entire beings with breath-taking speed, as they ripped the Demon apart from inside out. He staggered against the crib, the girl's face inches from him, watching him accusingly as his vision blackened.

He had just enough time to realize he was dying before he was shattered.