Return of the Sky Gods : A Humorous Urban Fantasy Adventure Series (Heaven's Dark Soldiers Book 6) by Steve Gilmore

Author:Steve Gilmore [Gilmore, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liquid Mind Publishing
Published: 2024-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

19

Thinking Rooster had the right idea by skipping this trip altogether, I again willed the cloak into being as the pissed-off gnome posse surrounded Doc and me. With gritted teeth and sinister squints, the grumbling horde of carnivorous mini-folk was surprisingly daunting. In a really bizarre, cute, and cuddly kind of way.

Standing on a ventilator shaft toward the back of the gaggle, Pickle Von Dactyl held an electric bullhorn to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Kill the Earth-dwellers!” he yelled. “And do it with haste. Cleave the meat from their bones and turn the rest into paste. Then, we will feast and lick our plates clean. For dessert, we’ll make pie from the one they call Dean. His head we’ll remove and mount on a stick. And all who pass by will know he’s a dick!”

“Demented Dr. Suess motherfucker,” I muttered, shaking my head as gauntlets of otherworldly metal formed over my hands and forearms. “I’m gonna stick that bullhorn straight up his rhyme-spewing ass.”

Doc grinned. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

Then her deep brown eyes turned a radiant, glowing white. And she summoned her armor.

Without so much as a sound, shimmering plates of ethereal golden metal materialized from the ether and snapped into place over her shoulders. Flowing down her torso like molten lava, the peculiar substance hugged every last contour of her physique as it bonded with her flesh.

Seamless and flawless, the otherworldly combat suit completed its graceful manifestation by gliding up her neck and encasing her head in a sleek, featureless helmet. Like a metal ski mask, the menacing headgear coated everything except her eyes. White eyes that balefully blazed like sentient orbs set against the lustrous golden carapace. It was sexy, functional, and terrifying all at the same time.

Undeterred by Doc’s unnatural outfit, the forward ranks of the fuming gnome brigade inched closer in a phalanx-like formation. Marching in lockstep with their weapons at the ready, the mythical munchkins moved with the grace and discipline of Roman legionnaires. It was strangely impressive. Not to mention completely unexpected.

Doc set her feet and pulled her hands into armored fists. “I’ll take the left half. You get the right.”

I nodded. “Now would be a good time to draw your pistols.”

“I don’t have enough ammo for this,” she said, gazing at the endless sea of grunting gnomes. Then she raised her fists, and machete-like blades sprouted from her golden knuckles like surreal switchblades. “But you don’t need to reload a knife.”

Making the mental note that she just coined the coolest one-liner ever, I muttered, “Suit yourself.” Then I called for the shotgun. Feeling the presence of the scabbard-like holster on my back, I reached over my shoulder and grabbed the handle of my semi-divine 1887 Winchester. Thinking a few bursts of Judgement Fire should make short work of the situation, I cocked the lever and trained the glowing, hissing muzzle on the macabre mini-men.

Doc glanced at me and frowned. “I’m not sure using your shotgun right now is a great idea.

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