efforts in an attempt to bring down the Nephilim.
The child watched, mesmerized by the conflict, as the pair attempted to drive Jeremy away from the little boy.
Curious, the toddler thought, before sensing movement behind him. He turned as quickly as he could to see a fourth Agent raising his blade.
“Jeremy!” the child screeched.
“Roger!” Jeremy responded, and the toddler hoped—prayed—that the Nephilim would not be too late.
The Agent reached down, cobra quick, snatching the child by his chubby arm. The toddler struggled, kicking his feeble legs and waving his other arm. Then the air was knockedfrom his lungs, as the assassin slammed him to the ground, pinning his little body with one hand as the other drew its blade ominously closer.
The toddler thrashed, managing to wiggle out from beneath the restraining hand. But the Agent was faster, grabbing him around the middle with both hands so their faces were just inches apart.
Close enough for the toddler to act.
Gathering all his strength, the boy flailed his arms, jamming his chubby fingers into the assassin’s eye.
The Agent grunted in pain, dropping the child as he reared back, clutching at his damaged orb.
The toddler crawled toward where Jeremy was still fighting.
He watched as Jeremy dispatched the other two Agents, one managing to sink his knife into the young man’s shoulder just before Jeremy cut him in two at the waist. The other fell away as Jeremy buried his ax blade deep within the Agent’s chest.
The toddler’s eyes met Jeremy’s as he heard the sound of rushing feet behind him.
“If you would be so kind as to finish that up for me,” the child said.
Jeremy spread his wings and leaped into the air, killing the fourth assassin with a newly created knife of fire plunged deeply into his skull. Jeremy lay atop the still-twitching body of the Agent for a moment, then rolled off, fixing his gaze onthe toddler.
“Are you all right, Roger?” Jeremy asked, out of breath and practically wheezing.
“Enoch,” he corrected, pushing himself up from the ground and standing erect.
“What?”
“Not Roger,” the toddler corrected. “My name is Enoch.”
“Roger, Enoch, whatever you’re calling yourself, you’re still a pain in the ass,” Jeremy said as he, too, stood.
“I’m a pain in the ass?” Enoch asked indignantly, tiny hand poised upon his chest. “Who’s the one who doubted that we were being followed? And who agreed to put a child—a mere toddler—at risk, only to be proven wrong? Who? Who did this? Could it be some other pain in the ass? Maybe one with wings and flaming cutlery?”
“Cutlery?” Jeremy asked. “They’re swords and battle-axes, not some sort of kitchen knives.” He slowly pulled out the blade the second Agent had lodged in his shoulder. “That bloody hurts,” he grunted, tossing the weapon to the ground.
“Well, it might as well have been cutlery,” the toddler said, crossing his arms and approaching the dead bodies to examine them. “Did you happen to notice that I was almost killed?”
“Yeah, I saw,” Jeremy said. “There were four instead of three. My mistake.”
“Your mistake?” Enoch repeated, spinning to look at theyoung man. “Isn’t it your job to be aware of such things, and protect me?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy admitted. “I guess.”
“You guess? Perhaps I should be searching for another angel to safeguard my wellbeing until—”
“Until what?” Jeremy interrupted. “What am I protecting you from anyway?”
The toddler fell silent, looking at the carnage around them. It wasn’t the first attack since Enoch had remembered who he was, and they’d gone on the run.
“You’re protecting me so that I can fulfill my special purpose,” he said finally, turning his wide-eyed gaze to the Nephilim.
Jeremy sighed. He heated the tip of his finger with angel fire and cauterized his still-bleeding wound with a hiss. The young man grimaced in pain.
“Do you even know
The child watched, mesmerized by the conflict, as the pair attempted to drive Jeremy away from the little boy.
Curious, the toddler thought, before sensing movement behind him. He turned as quickly as he could to see a fourth Agent raising his blade.
“Jeremy!” the child screeched.
“Roger!” Jeremy responded, and the toddler hoped—prayed—that the Nephilim would not be too late.
The Agent reached down, cobra quick, snatching the child by his chubby arm. The toddler struggled, kicking his feeble legs and waving his other arm. Then the air was knockedfrom his lungs, as the assassin slammed him to the ground, pinning his little body with one hand as the other drew its blade ominously closer.
The toddler thrashed, managing to wiggle out from beneath the restraining hand. But the Agent was faster, grabbing him around the middle with both hands so their faces were just inches apart.
Close enough for the toddler to act.
Gathering all his strength, the boy flailed his arms, jamming his chubby fingers into the assassin’s eye.
The Agent grunted in pain, dropping the child as he reared back, clutching at his damaged orb.
The toddler crawled toward where Jeremy was still fighting.
He watched as Jeremy dispatched the other two Agents, one managing to sink his knife into the young man’s shoulder just before Jeremy cut him in two at the waist. The other fell away as Jeremy buried his ax blade deep within the Agent’s chest.
The toddler’s eyes met Jeremy’s as he heard the sound of rushing feet behind him.
“If you would be so kind as to finish that up for me,” the child said.
Jeremy spread his wings and leaped into the air, killing the fourth assassin with a newly created knife of fire plunged deeply into his skull. Jeremy lay atop the still-twitching body of the Agent for a moment, then rolled off, fixing his gaze onthe toddler.
“Are you all right, Roger?” Jeremy asked, out of breath and practically wheezing.
“Enoch,” he corrected, pushing himself up from the ground and standing erect.
“What?”
“Not Roger,” the toddler corrected. “My name is Enoch.”
“Roger, Enoch, whatever you’re calling yourself, you’re still a pain in the ass,” Jeremy said as he, too, stood.
“I’m a pain in the ass?” Enoch asked indignantly, tiny hand poised upon his chest. “Who’s the one who doubted that we were being followed? And who agreed to put a child—a mere toddler—at risk, only to be proven wrong? Who? Who did this? Could it be some other pain in the ass? Maybe one with wings and flaming cutlery?”
“Cutlery?” Jeremy asked. “They’re swords and battle-axes, not some sort of kitchen knives.” He slowly pulled out the blade the second Agent had lodged in his shoulder. “That bloody hurts,” he grunted, tossing the weapon to the ground.
“Well, it might as well have been cutlery,” the toddler said, crossing his arms and approaching the dead bodies to examine them. “Did you happen to notice that I was almost killed?”
“Yeah, I saw,” Jeremy said. “There were four instead of three. My mistake.”
“Your mistake?” Enoch repeated, spinning to look at theyoung man. “Isn’t it your job to be aware of such things, and protect me?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy admitted. “I guess.”
“You guess? Perhaps I should be searching for another angel to safeguard my wellbeing until—”
“Until what?” Jeremy interrupted. “What am I protecting you from anyway?”
The toddler fell silent, looking at the carnage around them. It wasn’t the first attack since Enoch had remembered who he was, and they’d gone on the run.
“You’re protecting me so that I can fulfill my special purpose,” he said finally, turning his wide-eyed gaze to the Nephilim.
Jeremy sighed. He heated the tip of his finger with angel fire and cauterized his still-bleeding wound with a hiss. The young man grimaced in pain.
“Do you even know
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