Hope & Fury (Heroes & Demons Book 2)
Chapter 43

Sandy heard nothing above the roar of the rotor blades, the helicopter swinging through the air faster than she thought was possible. Many things were becoming surprisingly and easily possible in recent days. Anytime she doubted that she only needed to remind herself that twenty-four hours before she’d been standing in Atlantis, in the Tomb of the dead man who was currently trying to bomb the UK.

Andrew and Angel had both elected to come with her, presumably only if she fell out of the side of the stupid chopper more than anything else. Neither one of them had experience diffusing a bomb and though neither did she, she at least had the very real ability to detonate it. The fact that they were with her gave her some hope that they believed she could do it – even if in her mind she doubted she would get the chance.

The lightening sky in the east looked beautiful from where they were, the scenic North Yorkshire coastline behind them, crumbling as it slowly was into the North Sea. It may be about to get a jolt and the North Sea would probably claim far more in the next few minutes. It took a moment for her to see against the pale baby blue of the sky – the small prick of fire and destruction that raged towards them.

“Guys, I don’t know if I can do this,” she roared at them above the fury of the engines. “Even if I knew where the guidance system was, how can I hit it from here without blowing us all up?”

“Maybe I can do it,” Andrew yelled back, “I could reach in and mess with the mechanics or whatever.”

“What are you going to do? Ride that thing like a bull? The sheer wind force would pull you off.”

What she found most absurd about the entire sentence was that Rick was not there to comment it was the title of her sex tape.

“I can break wind,” Angel offered, though it took her a moment to get what he meant.

“I think you mean to be a windbreak,” she supplied instead.

“And if we fail, or if we’re dragged off that thing – blow it,” Andrew instructed. She nodded, as much as she thought she would hesitate, as much as it pained her to admit it the cold steel in the pit of her stomach told her what would need to be done.

Andrew looked at Angel asked him once if he was ready, then took him by the hand. She instructed the pilot to swing the chopper so it would be side on to the approaching monster. She threw open the side door and they hung there waiting. It took only a moment for her to realise that Andrew and Angel had been successful in the first stage of their plan – they had landed. A mass of white feathers huddled over someone smaller.

She begged to whatever cold distant God she didn’t even believe in, that they would succeed. The moment slowed, time seemed to grow into an infinite thing that existed in the single breath she took. She knew she was already preparing the fire, a glowing ball of red in her hands that danced with delicate fury. Waiting to be unleashed, waiting to do what it did best – destroy.

The moment stretched and stretched to the point where she thought it may rip, tear open a hole in reality and allow her to fall into the big empty. She was startled as black appeared in front of her, as though through sheer force of will she had done it – succeeded in tearing a hole in the universe.

But it wasn’t. The familiar feeling of confusion threatened the edge of her senses and she knew what it was she saw. The black shape blossomed, suspended in the morning air – slowly unfurling two large black angelic wings. Two hands moved in a swift motion, seeming to dance. Their Angel buckled, red blossoming, staining the feathers of one wing. He fell, down into the ocean, as Andrew disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She watched the battle like a distant observer, suddenly acutely aware of her lack of importance in the grand scheme of a cold unfeeling universe. Andrew tussled with the man in black, who threw one more thing with one more delicate wave of a hand. Like a knife thrower at the circus she thought. Certainly, it might have been.

Two soft tinkles, the break of glass. The only sound that accompanied the moment of stillness before the pilot slumped forward, knocking all the controls and sending them into a tailspin. She clung on, attempting not to be thrown from the open side. She couldn’t see anything now, no sign of the dark angel, no sign of Andrew. Green and brown coastline melded with blue sea and sky as they whirled through the morning.

She knew she had no option, no alternative. She flung herself into the vast emptiness of space around them and told herself to fly. She felt her flames, felt them blossom around her like a sweet flower – warm but not hot. She felt motion, her eyes slammed completely closed and seconds later a scorching impact onto the grassy, muddy ground. The whirling stopped and she vomited, rolling onto her back having landed face-first into the dirt.

It might have been for only a moment but she had flown. On her back, she could see the sky once more. She saw the sleek monster glide far above and there, the ground smoking beneath her she asked one more favour of the cold unfeeling god above.

Forgiveness.