Camael's Battle
Angelic Hosts Series, Book 2, Episode 7, Part 1
A petty, powerful goddess arrives at the cave, sealing Hannah’s fate…
Onyx stood outside on the ledge while inside, Dagon was deep in conversation with the human woman.
“She just won’t let go. I know it’s not because she holds any love for me. She only loves him, but I can’t seem to tell her no. Women!”
“Don’t blame all women for the actions of one.” Hannah peeled another orange and handed Dagon half.
“Why not? Human women do it all the time. He’s a dog! Don’t date him, he’s like all the rest.”
Hannah chuckled as his voice went high, mimicking a female complaining about men. “Okay, you have a point. There are a lot of women who lump all men into the category of dogs.”
He shook his head and reached up to push the sunglasses higher on his nose. “I’ll never understand the comparison. Dogs are loyal creatures.”
“True, but back to your dilemma. She does sound like the worst type of woman. She’s obviously miserable. I’d say she has some deep insecurities that make her behave as she does. Like maybe she’s not been in control of past relationships and is overcompensating with you. Worse, you say she’s in love with a man she can’t be with. That would make any woman act crazy.”
“You don’t.” Dagon rested his arm over his bent knee and eyed the human woman through the dark lenses of his Raybans. He was growing used to her scent, and her aura was nearly all white now. She would be delivering soon.
Hannah looked at him, seeing only herself reflected back. “What do you mean?”
He sat forward. “I mean, here you are, in the worst possible situation, torn from your home, your man, and in mortal danger, yet you’re quite civilized, even kind.”
She looked down. “I’m simply reacting to how you’re treating me.”
“No. It’s more than that. I’ve brought you here, even if it is under orders, to be sacrificed. Even knowing this, you’ve spent nearly the last hour talking with me as if we’re simply two people who mean each other no harm. You’re quite extraordinary, Hannah Adams.”
“Or just dumb. I should be fighting you.” She tossed the orange peel into the basket.
“You would lose,” he said.
“I know. And there’s nowhere for me to go anyway. You saw to that when you brought me up here.” Hannah suddenly looked down and cradled her stomach. Her face screwed up into an expression of pain.
Dagon got to his knees, leaning closer and placing a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”
She exhaled slowly, forcing the air out through pinched lips, then relaxed. “It’s nothing. Just a cramp.”
“It’s not nothing. Your time is nearly here.”
She glanced up at his face. “How do you know?”
He smiled. “Angel, remember? I can see your aura. It’s almost perfectly white, a clear indication that you’ll be birthing that child soon.”
She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the whole angel thing. “I thought you said I stink?”
He laughed. “I seem to be getting used to it, but your aura can still blind me.”
Hannah reached up and placed her hand over his on her shoulder. “I don’t want to have my baby here. Please. I know there’s decency and goodness in you. Please help me.”
Dagon felt the warmth of her skin on his as he stared down into her lovely dark eyes. He was in no doubt as to why Camael fell in love with this woman. After spending time talking with her, he, too, felt a fondness begin to grow. She was smart, sensible, and kind. It didn’t hurt that she was also beautiful. He felt himself cave just a little, and then just as quickly, his resolve strengthened. He was to be the high general. That was a position of power he couldn’t refuse, not even for Hannah.
“I’m sorry.” He backed away. Standing, he raised his hand and materialized several fluffy pillows which he handed to her. “These should help make you more comfortable.”
“Dagon, don’t go—"
“She’s here!”
Dagon spun around upon hearing Onyx’s announcement.
Three winged guards landed on the precipice. They were garbed like gladiators from days of old. The two males had flaming red hair braided in one rope hanging down their backs, and the third was a caramel-skinned female warrior with startling white hair. Dagon was far more familiar with this one than he cared to admit. She called herself Bia. She was the very personification of strength and violence. Bia hated him. She wanted the position of power he would assume when this was all said and done. She also wanted Astarte but had never succeeded in her pursuit. Instead, she’d been roundly rebuffed, laughed at, and kept as an underling. She suspected their relationship, another reason for her hatred. Despite all her physical power and the danger she presented, she was still no match for Astarte who was among the first ever to be created. Whether Bia liked it or not, there was a hierarchy among all hosts, and the oldest sat at the top of that pyramid. The rest fell in line.
She folded her wings and walked inside, her shoulders back and chin up stopping only when she stood before Dagon.
“Make way and bow down to your leader,” she snarled.
Dagon let her see the laugh tugging at his lips before he bent his knee and awaited Astarte’s landing. She did so in the manner in which she did all things, majestically. She really did enjoy the grand entrance. The sound of trumpets blared, blown in ceremony by the red warriors, as he’d come to call them. The stunning goddess alighted on the rocky surface of the ledge, her golden-blonde tresses blowing in the breeze. Her green eyes sparkled as her full lips spread into a smile. “Ah, Dagon, my sweet one.” She extended her hand to rest her fingertips on top of his dark head.
“Rise.”
He stood at her command, executing a bow.
“Goddess.” He addressed her by the formal title she gave herself. Only in private was he allowed to use her name.
She studied his face and her delicate blonde eyebrow arched. “Why are your eyes covered?”
He’d forgotten he was wearing the sunglasses. He removed them. “My apologies. I was dealing with the human woman before you arrived.”
“Has she been that much of a problem for you? I thought you could handle one puny human.”
“She has not been a problem.” He placed the shades on top of his head pulling his hair back as he did so. “And I can handle any woman, human or otherwise.” His glance skipped over Bia who smirked at him.
Astarte peered over his shoulder inside the cave. “So, is all in readiness? I would like to begin.”
Dagon sucked in a quick breath knowing his next words would send her off into a fit. “We still lack the Blade of the Morning Star.”
The goddess’s lovely face twisted with instant anger. “What! What is the holdup?”
“Goddess, Piras and Helion are securing it as we speak.”
She stomped her foot and the side of the mountain shook. “You had but one job to do, Dagon. One job! Are you telling me you’ve failed?”
Dagon stood his ground. One thing the hellcat respected was strength. It worked in the bedroom, so he asserted himself now hoping it would take some of the fire out of her. “I am doing my job, Goddess. If you’ll recall, it was you who insisted on arriving before I gave word that all the pieces were in place! Camael was given the location of the blade, and my men are following him. Once the angel has it, we will take it from him. Then, and only then can we begin.” He locked his dark eyes with her green ones which were spitting sparks of rage. They remained in that stare-off for a full minute before she suddenly smiled.
“Well, why didn’t you say so immediately? It makes complete sense.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him after her as she walked inside the cavern. “Come, let us have a look at this key.”
One fire was extinguished, but Dagon knew another would soon start. Hannah Adams would not be deferential to Astarte, and her defiance would not go over well. If he were not already fallen, he would start praying now. He didn’t relish the idea of having to step in between the two.
“Wait!” He stopped, which caused her to be yanked back one step. The look on her face said she was not pleased. “You’ll need these.” He removed the sunglasses from atop his head and gently slid them onto her face covering her emerald eyes. His dark hair swung forward framing his rugged features.
Astarte smiled, reaching up to tuck a strand behind his ear. “So, you do care about me.” Her statement was confident, even cocky.
Dagon leaned closer and whispered, “I’d hate to see your gorgeous eyes ruined.”
Always swayed by flattery, the goddess stepped in bringing her body against his. “I’ve missed you in my bed.”
Dagon felt her hot breath on his neck and willed himself to ignore it. Astarte was nothing but trouble for him once she released Lucifer from his prison. He brought his lips within a hair’s breadth of the tender spot below her ear and said, “No worries. You’ll soon have it filled…by Lucifer.” He stepped back and produced a second pair of shades out of thin air and slipped them over his eyes. He was sure if he could see them, her green irises would be spitting fire at him. He bowed and gestured she should proceed.
Hannah watched the exchange. The woman coming toward her looked every bit what she expected an angel to look like. She was blonde, beautiful, and petite. The only thing out of place were the sunglasses she wore. She waited as the tiny woman stopped and stared down at her. She cocked her head left and right appearing to be studying her.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Hannah found herself annoyed at being treated like a bug under glass.
“How dare you speak out of turn!” Wings popped out in a magnificent display. Feathers in shades of gold, green, and white shone as if lit from inside.
Hannah could see Dagon standing behind the woman shaking his head at her as if to say, “Don’t make her angry.” She ignored his warning. Standing up, she held her belly and looked down at the fallen angel. At five foot six, Hannah didn’t consider herself tall, but the woman in front of her was at least four inches shorter giving her the height advantage. It wasn’t much considering the power these creatures held, but it was better than nothing.
“How dare I? You’re asking me how dare I speak when you’ve had me kidnapped and brought here? How dare you! You have no right!”
Dagon hung his head and tried counting to ten, but he knew he’d never make it through five before Astarte forgot she needed Hannah and simply smote her here and now. He stepped in, lifting Hannah off her feet and in the air. He kept his back to Astarte.
“You will not speak to my goddess like that, human!” His voice was full of anger and authority, but his touch where he held her arms was gentle. He gave a slight shake of his head before he continued. “Speak not lest she grant you permission. Your life depends on it, and the life of your whelp as well.” He set her down. When Hannah stumbled, he steadied her while keeping himself a barrier between the two women. She could see his eyebrow raised in question as if to say, “Are you alright?”
Hannah released her breath, sighing. She stepped back and sat back down.
“You’re lucky Dagon saved you for I am itching to rip your body apart and wave that abomination of a child in your face as you lay bleeding out!” Astarte stepped around him and stood over Hannah. “I dare because you are the key. Make no mistake. You will not survive this day, but if you continue to show disrespect, the day will be far shorter.”
Hannah blanched. She knew she was in mortal danger, knew they planned to use her as some sort of sacrifice, but until this moment, it hadn’t seemed real. Dagon had been impatient, but polite. She felt that somewhere in him was still the good he’d been originally endowed with, but now, faced with this beautiful but blood-thirsty woman, she realized that it would not be enough to save her. The fact that he’d stepped in to save her from the woman’s wrath meant nothing. He would not go against his goddess. He’d told her as much.
A cramp seized her belly making her groan. Astarte stepped back, wrinkling her nose, and shielding her eyes despite the shades. “Good grief. That’s worse than brimstone! Dagon, do something about that stench.”
Dagon dropped down and reached out to rub her back. He could see the look of pain on Hannah’s face. He could also see the panic in her eyes as she covered her stomach with her hands. She glanced up at him flashing both anger and defiance at Astarte, and a plea to him. He ignored it.
“I’m afraid your time is arriving.”
Hannah nodded. She’d had a few contractions while he was outside. “Seems that way.”
Used to her scent now, Dagon laid a hand gently upon her belly. He could feel how tight the muscles were. This time, the fetus didn’t buck and kick at him.
“Dagon, I said do something about that foul odor!” Astarte was standing near the entryway trying to avoid being near Hannah.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “There isn’t anything I can do. Her contractions have begun. It will only get worse from here on in.”
Astarte’s eyes grew large. “Then we need the blade. We need it now or we’ll lose our window of opportunity!” Nostrils flaring, the enraged goddess squared her shoulders. “Go now! Go and find your flunkies and bring me the Blade of the Morning Star. If you fail me, Dagon, so help me, I will not only flay you and wear your entrails, but I will make Bia my high general!”
Bia’s ears perked up upon hearing this. She stepped closer to her goddess flanking her right hand.
Dagon sucked in a breath and turned back to Hannah. Speaking low, he said, “I’m sorry. You’re a courageous woman for a human, and if circumstances were different…” He magically added two more pillows behind her back.
“You’re leaving me with her?” Hannah panted as her stomach muscles slowly relaxed.
“Whatever you do, say nothing. Don’t anger her.” He stood up, still looking down at her. “And Hannah…”
She waited, fear gripping her. She wondered when the Stockholm syndrome had set in. She was actually terrified to see her kidnapper leave.
“It will be quick.”
“What will?” She was afraid of the answer to that question.
“Your death.” He turned and headed out of the cavern. He stopped and exchanged words with Onyx, then jumped off the ledge.
Hannah watched him go. She felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. She was truly alone now, she was in labor, and she had a death sentence hanging over her head. Cam would not find her in time. He had no idea where she was. She was going to die, and her baby would be, what, sacrificed? No one had told her what they planned for her baby. Grief washed over her, and she could do nothing but watch and wait. As the first tear slid down her cheek, she began to pray.
Stay tuned until next week!
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Get caught up on the Angelic Hosts Series beginning with Book I, Camael’s Gift.
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