Blind Faith (Book 1)

Chapter 47

Aimee

The Daemon dropped to the kitchen's stone floor and burst into flames, not that Aimee saw it. She had already spun away, more concerned with the welfare of her two companions, both panting and looking a little worse for wear.

Bex's distraught, exhausted expression, drew Aimee's eyes first as she leaned heavily against her staff, the golden glow bulb flickering like a candle in the kitchen gloom from the tip of her staff.

Her other arm, hung limp at her side, blood dripping from the middle index finger, staining the floor. As soon as she caught Aimee's gaze, she hid it behind her back and cracked her staff once on the stone floor to grab Aimee's attention. She did not whimper or cry, but grimaced, the golden fire in her eyes alive with power.

She knows how to handle herself in a fight...leave her be...

She peered down at Tiff crouched at the High Priestess's side, inspecting the sword Aimee had given to her. The petite little thing was as lethal as the high priestess, if not more, always in the thick of the action, fearless and deadly with her new weapon, a hard smile always on her face.

The deafness and lack of speech didn't appear to impair the tiny warrior's helpfulness and understanding of what was happening around her. Aimee could only surmise that Tiff relied heavily on her sight and Holy Aura to sense what was around her.

Silent but deadly...

Seeing Tiff in the maid's outfit, brought a chuckle to the back of Aimee's throat, though most of the white material was now stained black and charred by Daemons blood. The harsh reality of their predicament.

The aching of Aimee's very existence was still too raw to allow any merriment or rather any peace or contentment. She was but an empty chalice, void of liquid, but overflowing with her duty...and to Leon's memory. The guilt hit her as she avoided Bex's eyes.

I will tell her...when the time is...right...

Tonight was the first time in years Aimee had fought alongside other soldiers of the House of Uriel, other than...Leon. Tonight she again recognized the value of fighting together, as a team, trusting others to protect your back as you protect theirs. She smiled at her newfound allies and their golden gazes meeting the white fire in her own eyes.

I am death, I am Michael's justice, Michael's wrath...

Aimee glanced again at the lifeless body of the old cook on the floor to her right and moved over to check on her, not having the chance the first time, when a handful of Daemons, disguised in Gabriel blue cassocks poured out from the larder behind her. She didn't know who was more surprised, them or her. It was lucky Tiff had drifted over to the sink next to the opening and struck the closest Daemon before they could react. In some sense, the little thing most possibly saved Aimee's life...well, maybe just a little embarrassment.

Today is not my time to return to the Holy Gates...

"Dead?" Asked Bex from over by another pile of bodies. Tiff refused to acknowledge any of the murdered kitchen staff, pretending they did not exist. Aimee could only guess it was because she had spent months in exile working and living close to these people and it was too painful to bare.

Aimee nodded as she removed her hand from the old woman's neck. Honestly, she didn't need to check her pulse, the angle of the head to her shoulders was enough evidence.

"These here, are also...Lord Uriel bless them, they didn't have the chance to run, let alone understand what was happening. At least their necks were broken quickly...I still don't know why? Why so quickly, Daemons do not give mercy, they thrive in pain and torment."

Aimee stood up, not responding, the nagging in her skull had pulled again and pulled her towards the kitchen larder, where the Daemons appeared.

As soon as she neared the back of the little cupboard, she noted the various packets and foods were discarded recklessly, scatted in piles as if moved in a hurry. Aimee caught a waft of corruption and drew her holy Aura within, Ardour was in her hand in an instant, vibrating in anticipation, lighting the area with a warm glow.

At the back, she thought she could see a slim gap down the side of a cream-coloured wood panel. She edged closer and pushed her sword through the gap and used the blade to gently open the secret opening. She could feel her two companions move up behind her. She raised a hand for silence and waited a moment, using her holy senses.

It reeked within the darkness, but she could feel a soft stirring in the air, indicating a long passageway or deep drop down under the earth. The stench made her hesitate. It almost made her gag and she had to clench her teeth and steel her stomach. It was like something had died below and been dead for months.

Aimee edged a little closer to inspect how to proceed when a overwhelming wave of corruption slammed into her from behind and a strangled cry forced her to spin around, revealing the evil paralyzing her. She cried out in anger, as long gangling arms dragged Bex and Tiff away, to dangle them like puppets in the air.

Bex hung by her hair, screaming as she reached for the claw-like hands holding her from the kitchen floor. Her staff clanged against the large farmhouse table, rolling off the edge to the floor. Tiff also hung off the ground by her feet. It could have been comical under different circumstances to see the little woman frantically swinging her sword at the dark creature, while also trying to keep her modesty, as her maid's dress threatened to smother her and expose her underwear. Her mouth was open as to scream, though nothing could be heard.

Aimee snapped her gaze up at the attacker and rapidly regained her composure as she stared into the inky feline gaze of an Arch-daemon. Something prickled her memory, the long angled face and nose. She knew their attacker, though somehow he had manifested into this long-limbed abomination.

Rogers...the butler...

"Beelzebub!" she snarled, edging out into the open to regain some space.

"Hello pet, it has been a while...would you like to dance with me tonight?" he hissed, his yellow-stained teeth oozing a greenish poison.

"Dance? I certainly don't, not with the likes of you...but let me introduce you to a friend of mine, who is eager for the perfect partner. His agility and rhythm are to die for!"

Aimee spun Ardour forwards and the blade trembled and burned a white fire in her hands.

"It is time for you and me, to pay for our sins!" she cried out, lunging forwards.