DEATH (The Justice Cycle Book 1) by J Kiefer (best classic books to read TXT) 📗

the full force of the blow but went spinning violently into the building below. With the agility of a cat, the Musketeer managed to right himself just before he slammed into the rooftop. His boots struck the concrete hard, but he redirected his momentum into a forward roll.

Then he planted his feet and launched himself upward, back into the night sky. Sanctuary was ready for the maneuver and plummeted toward the Musketeer. They collided in midair like two freight trains, sending a shock wave in all directions.

Metal clashed against metal as the two combatants fought. Jeremy still couldn’t help. He could barely follow their movements. But he could pray. And as soon as he reached out to the Lord, he could feel God’s healing power pour into his broken body. It was not enough to repair his broken bones, but it restored a measure of his strength.

He was still unable to stand, but he could sit up and lean against the industrial air-conditioning unit he’d hit earlier. As he did, he turned his head just in time to see one of the combatants slam violently into the rooftop. The reinforced concrete cracked and bowed from the impact, releasing a cloud of debris that obscured Jeremy’s vision.

When the haze finally cleared enough for him to see, his heart sank. Sanctuary lay prone and motionless in a small crater of fractured concrete and steel. Both of his blades were missing and the ethereal fire that usually surrounded him was extinguished.

The Musketeer’s cruel laughter pierced the silence as he emerged unscathed from the shadows. He sneered down at the angel who struggled to rise. “I guess I win!”

Sanctuary growled angrily, but the Musketeer kicked him in the face. His head snapped backward, bouncing off a dislodged slab of concrete with enough force to shatter it.

“Tsk, tsk,” said the Musketeer as he ambled over to Sanctuary’s limp body. He readjusted his gloves, gripped his rapier with both hands, and raised it up over his head with the point facing downward.

“I had hoped that you would be more of a challenge.” He sighed. “But sadly, you never really stood a chance. I know I can’t truly destroy you, angel. But know this: as soon as I am done with you, I will take my time with the prophet.”

Jeremy’s rage rose as the Musketeer taunted his friend.

“God,” he pleaded, “I know You are listening, so please give me the strength to wipe that infuriating smile off the face of this humongous piece of crap.”

To Jeremy’s great delight, heavenly power built up in his right hand.

“This one’s for the Shogun!” he whispered.

The Musketeer was too busy with Sanctuary to notice the sudden change in spiritual pressure, so the blast of divine power that shot from Jeremy’s outstretched hand took him completely by surprise.

To Jeremy’s immense satisfaction, there was no smile on the Musketeer’s face as he went soaring off the edge of the building. He fell straight down, just as two police cruisers arrived in front of the building. Thanks to the paralyzing effects of the divine energy that had struck him, the Musketeer was unable to move or teleport. He struck the ground hard and bounced twice before coming to a stop a few feet from two startled police officers.

“Who’s going to take his time now, jackass?” Jeremy shouted triumphantly at the roof’s edge.

Jeremy’s shout roused the stunned Sanctuary. His eyes flicked open and he sat up gingerly. The heavenly radiance that usually encompassed him returned as he rubbed his neck. He turned to look at Jeremy who had slumped sideways a bit from the kick of releasing so much spiritual power. Besmudged and bruised, he was so exhausted that he couldn’t even right himself. It took everything Sanctuary had not to laugh.

“You good now?” Jeremy asked sarcastically when he realized the angel was amused. “I can come over there and help you up if you like. It’s not like I just saved your hide or anything like that.”

Sanctuary forced the grin off his face and got to his feet. “I’m sorry, are you going to be alright?” he asked, concerned.

“Oh yeah. I mean, I’m sure the massive internal injuries I probably sustained will heal on their own, so I’m good. Didn’t need my spleen, anyway. What the heck does a spleen even do?”

Sanctuary gingerly walked over to him, reached down, and picked him up. Jeremy nearly passed out from the pain. His head lolled and his eyes lost focus as Sanctuary walked to the edge of the building.

They peered down, hoping against hope that they had finally managed to incapacitate the Musketeer. All they saw were two dead police officers and a handful of people milling around, looking confused.

Jeremy blinked to clear away the fog in his head. “I think I am going to need a hospital,” he slurred. “Or a walk-in clinic at least. Maybe a veterinarian. God has assured me that I am not going to die, at least not yet. Right now, dying might be preferable.”

Sanctuary made a decision as he looked out at the horizon. Whatever it was Jared was currently encountering, he was going to have to face it alone with Tzedakah. That would have to be enough. Sanctuary prayed that their bond was strong enough to overcome whatever challenges they were facing. But Jeremy needed immediate medical attention, and for now, there was nothing more either of them could do to help him.

“Hang in there, brother,” Sanctuary said as he extended his enormous wings, gently rose, and headed for the nearest hospital.

Forty-Three

Steve’s eyes were closed, but he was not unconscious. Whatever the entity was that had been helping him, it had minimized the damage from the impact to next to nothing. He cracked open one of his eyes and saw his brother crouched in front of him, holding his head as if he were in pain. Unsure of what exactly was happening to Jared, he decided it best to play possum and figure