"- we can do it this way." With a grunt, Gabriel whipped out his daggers and threw up a block deftly, aware of the other sentries running from their positions across the roof towards him. With two strikes and a block, Gabriel beheaded the first man and knelt, calling his soul to him.
The green gem materialized in his palm, and he rose to confront the three attackers hovering a safe distance from him with raised swords.
"Everyone gets a choice," he boomed at the three and held up the gem. Was he shouting because of the stiff wind or to hear above the buzzing in his head? "To reaffirm their allegiance to me and be granted what mercy Death is willing to offer. Or …" He crushed the soul in his hand, the green powder turning black as it was picked up by the breeze. "… continue down the path leading to no mercy and a special place in Hell."
Two of them sized him up while the third lowered his sword and appeared ready to run. Gabriel guessed who would do what a moment before the two attacked, their swords flashing in the weak sun. Trained and honed for fighting over thousands of years, his powerful body responded instinctively, and within seconds, both men were dead.
Gabriel eyed the third man, who was close enough to strike him, if he bent to collect the souls of the others. "Made your choice?"
"Mercy." The man placed his sword on the ground and knelt.
"Good." If one of every four laid down their swords, he had a slim chance of taking back his palace. Gabriel sheathed his knives and withdrew his sword. With a single blow, he removed the death dealer's head and then knelt, collecting the soul. This one he tucked in his pocket to toss into the Lake, then shifted over to the other two.
The buzz was maddening. Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment of relative peace. The flow of knowledge was waning, turning from a flood into a stream. It was almost over.
He rose, did away with the souls of the remaining dead assassins, and then turned to face the direction he'd come.
"Harmony," he growled.
The redhead was flanked by no less than two dozen loyal dealers, all armed to the teeth. There were slashes across one of her cheeks, as if she'd gotten into a fight with an animal. Gabriel studied her before letting his gaze drift over the others gathered. He recognized nearly every one of them. This time, instead of regret, he experienced only a flare of anger at those who chose to betray their sacred duty to the souls.