Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman

vision and she smelled the metallic scent of blood, running freely from her nose. The rapid manchatter kept up around her, but her attention was drawn to Shadowman’s face. His eyes had gone full black again, swallowing the whites. Unless he was turned on, that was a bad sign. His form, though solid, seemed to phase out of reality, as if the darkness was filling him to bursting. Very bad.
    â€œDon’t,” she tried to tell him, but she knew he was beyond that. Beyond listening.
    This is the way it has to be . But she could see that he didn’t care.
    She trembled as a new beast was born before her eyes. Her Shadowman, yes, but filled with a blackening menace that outdid anything Rose could hope to conjure.
    The angels wanted Death?
    Well, here he comes.
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    Shadowman took the cavern with a hurricane of darkness. He drew from the depths of the earth where shadows were soaked in black pitch and hurled death at the host gathered before the gate to Hell. Bodies flew back and crashed on the stone walls and the stalagmites reaching up from the floor.
    Only Ballard hung on to the gate, his yellow hair whipping in the wind, one hand around a wrought-iron rung, the other gripping the hammer. Though Death bore down, still Ballard drew back and struck the gate again.
    They hadn’t even given her a moment’s warning.
    Death summoned Shadow, deeper and deeper, until the cavern walls ran with sightless bugs streaming toward the mouth. Bats screamed through the air in a cacophonous flapping. And the gate rattled with hysterical glee.
    Shadowman sent a gale of power and struck Ballard. His head bounced off the gate, bloodied, but he held on.
    How valiant. But angels were mortal and this one was going to die.
    Death flexed his magic and took to his feet. He hoped they saw a beast. They deserved to meet a beast for the murder they planned. He grabbed Ballard’s hair in his hand and bashed his head against the gate. Used his skull like a new hammer. Thrilled toward the moment when white bone would show through.
    But his arm was caught by that dog, Custo. “Let me—!” The rest of his words were lost on the wind.
    Just as well. Shadowman shook off the hold, drew Ballard back, and struck the gate again. Finally, the damn angel’s body went slack, the hammer dropping to the cavern floor. Death tossed the used body aside and turned to the angels, who were regrouping for a fight.
    Custo stood between them, eyes black with Shadow, arms lifted, hands flattened to say, Stop!
    The moment they struck Layla, the angels had taken matters way past stopping.
    kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat: Open me. I’ve an army at your disposal.
    â€œShe’ll comply!” Custo shouted at them. “Layla has agreed!”
    â€œI don’t,” Shadowman’s thunderstorm grumbled.
    Another angel stepped forward. “Recuse yourself, Custo. You are blinded by your friendships.”
    â€œLayla just found out,” Custo said. “She agreed. Give her a little time. . . .”
    â€œThere is no such thing as time,” Death said. Not anymore. There was only forever. And he would have no less.
    kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat: I can give you forever.
    â€œListen to me!” Custo shouted. “Layla found her purpose. She can set things straight. Shadowman will go back to Twilight.”
    â€œI will not.” For a moment, he had considered it. For a moment, he would have taken the heartbreak, if that was what Layla really wanted him to do. He’d have gone back and done his duty. Now he only wanted his scythe to strike down the angels. His bare hands would have to do.
    â€œShadowman, please. Listen to reason,” Custo said. “It’s the way things are meant to be.”
    Ballard stirred from his collapse on the ground. Put a hand to the cave floor.
    Through the air, a gleam of steel flew. A dagger, a weapon of the angels. Shadowman stuck out his chest to accept the impact. No blade could kill him, and in the belly of the earth where darkness reigned, it would not even slow him. The point slid into his heart with a thunk as the hilt met muscle. He grinned against the pain, baring his teeth at the host like an animal. He had only to move his Shadow forward, and the dagger would fall to the ground. And so it did.
    â€œNo bloodshed!” Custo implored him. “If you don’t want to be Death, don’t kill today. Layla wouldn’t want it. You know that.”
    â€œYour