by Nina Levine
“No!”
“Wounded?”
“No!”
“And he just let you walk out of there?”
“It’s complicated!” she yelled, then screamed as the car hit the gutter. “Jesus, Rodrigo! This is not the time to blow a tire!”
The tall warrior spun the wheel. “I wasn’t—”
One second she was staring at the back of his neck. The next thing she knew, she was slamming into the back of Tayla’s seat, and the car was catapulting forward.
Fire bloomed around them.
She hit hard. Bounced. Rolled. Vision flashed past; of the street outside. And then the car was screaming to a halt on its roof, droplets of flame dripping from the undercarriage.
Sera lowered her arms as the car rocked.
It felt like wading through treacle.
Her Grace flickered… and died.
What—? Where—?
She was on her back, lying on what had once been the roof of the car, and half of Tay’s technical equipment was smashed into her ribs. Everything hurt. Everything. But her mind was starting to kick back into gear, screaming back into function as it filled in the gaps.
An explosion.
The car was on fire.
“Tay?” she croaked.
Nothing.
Sera pushed upright, shoving equipment off her. She might have had her connection to Heaven torn from her by the maelstrom Lucifer kicked into place when he broke the city apart, but she was still enough of an angel to survive unscathed. Given enough motivation she could die, but even now she could feel the bruises and contusions starting to reknit.
Tayla and Rodrigo, however, were both human.
Finding the hilt of her sword, she kicked out the side door. It blew off the car, even as heat bloomed within. Sera scrambled out, then turned and ripped the front door off.
Tay lay like crumpled linen inside. There was no time to be gentle about this. She grabbed her unconscious friend beneath the arms and hauled her out, before returning for Rodrigo.
He slapped at his burning jeans, kicking the pavement as if trying to help her get him as far away from the car as possible.
“The package?” he gasped.
Sera patted her chest, where the shard was stashed in one of Azazel’s pockets. “Safe.” She pressed her hands to Tayla’s chest, trying to sense for pain or damage. There. A hard knot on her friend’s head. Maybe some minor bleeding and burns. But nothing that would kill her.
Thank the father.
And then she froze as a figure slowly stalked toward her.
He was enormous, his bat-like wings spread in a menacing pose. Sera saw the blond hair and tailored suit, and her heart shriveled into a prune until she realized that Lucifer was locked away.
Not Lucifer.
Not the First of Hell.
But just as fucking deadly.
Samael.
“What have we here?” he purred. “An angel.”
Sera realized she’d dropped all her wards. The ragged remains of her Grace was enough to give her a power boost, and he could see it.
It was nothing compared to the power oozing from him.
When they’d chosen to Fall, they’d taken all that force with them. They were just as powerful as they’d been in Heaven, though Michael had cursed their wings to bleed black so that all should know them for what they were.
Sera scrambled to her feet and wielded her blade. It was so pathetic. Broken, jagged, flickering with faint light that died the second Samael smirked at her. “Go!” she yelled at Rodrigo. “Get Tayla out of here!”
She knew what she was signing up for.
She wasn’t walking out of this, but if she could sacrifice herself in order to give her friends a chance….
Samael laughed. “Such a pretty little angel. All alone…. I’m going to have so much fun with you. I’m going to start by plucking all your feathers until you scream such pretty songs for me….”
He flexed his hands and sulfuric flames whipped around her. Sera screamed, but then they were dying down. Leaving her whole and undamaged. She panted in relief.
“But she’s not alone,” called Uriel.
He walked out of the shadows, clad in his army green hooded jacket, his dark skin gleaming in the flames.
“Sera, you have it?” he asked, never taking his eyes off Samael as Rodrigo carried Tayla toward him.
Others appeared in the shadows of the alleyway behind him. The Brotherhood.
Maybe there was a chance.
And then Azazel killed it.
“Interesting,” his voice murmured. “Two thieves in my back alley. Two thieves trying to take what is mine.”
Demons poured out of the alleyway that serviced the back of The Ninth Circle.
Demons hissed and slunk out of the shadows behind Samael.
And right in the middle, the car burned like holy fire.
She’d seen a thousand paintings plucked right from the pages of Dante’s Inferno, but this was the cinematic version of it.
Sera was stuck in the middle of all three of them, but she couldn’t take her attention off him.
And the way he looked at her—suddenly she was back in the past, staring at him as Heaven burned.
She could see the knowledge in his eyes.
You’re with Uriel.
You’ll always go running to him….
“I’m sorry.” The words broke from her lips.
The look he gave Uriel was cold, flat, merciless… and almost thoughtful.
And then he turned his attention to Samael. “You’re breaking the city’s treaties. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Once this is done, I don’t think any of the other ruling city heads will care. They’ll be trying to keep me from their throats.” Samael clicked his fingers and vampires and demons began pouring out of the streets. Some of them climbed the walls of the buildings—just your friendly neighborhood vampire!—and others scuttled along on all fours. Fangs flashed as some of them grinned at her.
Sera found herself backing away.
The numbers weren’t in their favor.
Azazel walked toward him, his hands still in his pockets and the faintest of smiles on his lips. There was no mercy in that smile, and she could tell, from the way that Samael’s demons tensed, that fear radiated from him like a menacing shadow.
What was he thinking?
He was dozens of feet away from his demons. Samael could drown him in vampires with a snap of his fingers.
“Sera,” Uriel called, gesturing sharply. “Come here.”
The two demons faced each other.
And while Sera knew she ought to get out of the way, she couldn’t make her feet move.
“Azazel!”
He cut her a look. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Arrogant fucking demons.
Sera tugged the shard from within her shirt.
Suddenly, everyone froze.
“Here,” she called, tossing it to the archangel.
Uriel batted it out of the air with his sleeve and it landed in a muddy puddle by Tay’s feet. “Sera!” The look on his face would have been comical, if the situation wasn’t so serious.
She hadn’t even thought the action through.
If he’d touched that shard it wouldn’t have just ignited, the detonation would have been catastrophic. Maybe the entire quarter would have burned.
“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.” She wrapped both hands around the hilt of her broken sword. I need you now. I need you….
But there was nothing but cool steel in her hand.
Only the whisper of Heaven’s power brushing back against her, searching for the truth in her heart.
An angel’s blade was a dangerous weapon. It needed belief to fuel it, and she was so fucking wrung out and tired that her quotient was low.
“It looks like you’re outmatched,” Samael mocked Azazel.
“You’re a fucking coward.” Azazel sneered, and then glanced back toward his
demons. “You can’t even meet me one-on-one.”
Sera was close enough to see rage flicker in the Prince of Wrath’s eyes. And just that easily, it was gone, blighted by a smile.
Shadows swept around him. Samael conjured a sword of pure darkness. Demonsteel. Tainted and forged in blood. As he lifted it, it whined through the air, the shriek of it like a thousand souls screaming, driving it directly toward Azazel’s back—
“No!” Sera screamed, lunging forward with her own blade lifted. There was no hope she could prevail—her steel could never match his—but it was the only way to protect Azazel.
The flames finally ignited. Every inch of her lit up in pure radiance, driving the shadows back.
Love.
The sword of darkness swung down, cutting through that light and then their steel met with a clash of thunder.
BOOM.
Time froze. Light pulsed, like a strobe, waging war against darkness, and the weight of Samael’s fury was rising over her like a tide prepared to sweep her out of his way—
And then the detonation blew them apart.
She slammed backwards, her head cracking against the wall of a building. Heat and pain and fury….
And then she was collapsing forward onto her knees, and from there, to the asphalt.
The world blinked in and out.
“Sera!” Uriel screamed.
“Sera!” There were hands turning her over, slapping at her cheeks.
She couldn’t move. Her ears were still ringing. All she could see was fire. Every inch of her felt burnt.
“Sera! Sera, look at me.” Azazel grabbed her chin. “Look at me.” His voice slid through her. “See me. Come back.”
It was so calm here.
Peaceful.
She floated on a tide of darkness, slowly sinking below those depths.
“No.” A furious growl chased her through the waters. “You don’t get to escape me. Not like this. No. Come back, Sera.”
A spark appeared in the darkness.
She didn’t know how she knew, but it was him.
Reaching out, she captured that spark and light bloomed in her chest, her lungs suddenly heaving in air. Sera jerked her eyes open as pain speared through her. Life. She came to, back in the alley.
Azazel hauled her into his arms, and she flopped there, broken in some ways.
It hurt to breathe.
But she could see the effect of that single blow.
Entire buildings were collapsing. Vampires screamed as they burned. Demons tried to drag Samael away, stamping out the flames that licked at his coat. He snarled and shoved them off, pushing to his feet as he glared at her.
His sword was broken.
Broken.
Jagged edges of shadow evaporating as she watched.
And hers lay unblemished, the light of its flame burning as hot as a welder’s torch.
“How did I…?” It hurt to speak. She clutched at Azazel’s sleeve as he shushed her, but the question was seared into her head. How did I break his sword? He’s a demon. A Prince of Hell. It should never have happened.
“Love,” Uriel whispered, squatting by her side and reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek. They glowed, and then the cool glide of a healing swept through her. He looked up, meeting Azazel’s eyes. “Love unbroken. Love unquenched. A love that will never fade, no matter how many wounds it takes. There is no greater force.”
Azazel ground his teeth together.
But he held her.
Held her and rocked her.
The world was growing dark around the edges. Maybe she was still dying. Maybe sleep was beginning to suck her down.
“What will this cost me?” Azazel whispered.
Sera trailed her fingers down his sleeve. So hard to think….
“You know what it will cost you,” Uriel replied.
And then they both vanished.
9
Sera blinked back to consciousness, staring at a strange ceiling.
Luxurious silk draped her skin, and there was a bandage wrapped around her waist, but nothing else.
She had the hell of all headaches. What had happened? Where was she—?
It all came back in a rush of fire-tinged memories.
Stealing the shard. The confrontation in the alley. A sword of light rising to meet a blade of pure darkness—
Sera sat up with a gasp and the sheets tumbled around her waist, along with the ragged remains of her curls. The ends had been burned on the right side.
But then she began to recognize her surroundings.
The room. The bed. The red silk sheets.
Azazel—
Azazel stared at her from the doorway, his hands buried in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. A dark smoldering shadow that watched her with hungry eyes.
And Sera couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.
She dragged the sheets up over her breasts. “I—"
“What the fuck were you thinking?” The words were cold enough to flay like a whip. “I needed him to strike me. I needed him to break the treaty first. And you thought, what? That you were going to save me?”
“You turned away from him,” she yelled. “What was I supposed to do? Watch you die? You’re not invincible. And he was wielding demonsteel!”
“I’m not invincible, no.” He looked disgusted. “I didn’t have to be.” He stirred a finger in circles and a second Azazel stepped out of his body, until they stood side by side. The two of them prowled toward her. “It wasn’t real, Sera. I was never in any danger. I needed Samael to break the treaty. I needed witnesses. I need him to try and kill me, before I could crush him.”
And then the second figure evaporated like a cloud of smoke.
A single tear caught her by surprise. “Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that. Forgive me for caring. Forgive me for trying to save your fucking life.”
More followed and she dashed them away with flurry.
She’d spilled enough tears over this demon over the years.
And then Azazel was there, offering her something to wipe her face.
She clung to his arms, fingers clenching in his shirt. He knew the truth now. She didn’t know where that left them.
He kissed her temples, her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.
“Six months of hard work,” he whispered into her hair, his hands clasping her head between them, “and you fucked it. A year of searching for that fucking shard, laying rumors, trying to push Samael to come for me, and you took one look at all my plans and went stomping all over them.”
“I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. That shard belongs with the angels.”
“It’s not the worst thing you’ve done to me.” He tilted her chin up so she could see him. And he actually looked like he was searching for the right words. “Do you remember what happened in that alley?”
Sera rubbed at her chest. Something hurt inside her. “Fairly certain I went toe-to-toe with Samael and—”
She still couldn’t put it into words.
A prince of Hell was so far above her on the power scale that his sword should have cleaved her in half.
Instead—
“Won.” There was something dangerous in his eyes. “You won.”
Sera shivered. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” He kissed her again, but this time he sought her lips. It was hard and fierce and formed of nothing of pleasure. Desperation, perhaps. His hands shook a little. “Your love wasn’t enough to save you. You were dying.”
She could remember the firefly glow, that sudden intake of breath—and the burning sensation in her chest.
“What did you do to me?” she whispered, because she was starting to understand.
“Ruined myself.” His thumbs stroked down her cheeks and this time, when their eyes met, she could see his whole soul. “I showed the world my weakness. I showed my immortal enemy my… my heart.”
“You saved me.”
/>
“I gave up half the light in my world to save you.”
Half the light in his world….
There was power in a soul, after all.
That was how the demons were winning this war. Consuming the souls of others, powering up with each and every raw recruit.
But his own soul….
He’d offered it up to her, binding them together so that she would live.
Sera bit her lip. There were so many things left unsaid in such a statement.
“Why am I here?” she whispered. “Where’s Uriel? Where are… my friends?”
“He threw you away,” he replied. “He gave you to me as payment. I let him keep the shard, and he let me keep you. You were no longer important to him.”
Sera let the words sink in, but in retaliation, another whispered sentence beckoned in her memories.
Words that were imprinted on her soul, from when Uriel had plunged them through her wards as she lay unconscious: “Remember, Sera. No soul is ever truly lost. You fight the hardest battle of all now. You fight for his redemption. And while you may think I am throwing you to the wolves, I do this with purpose. He couldn’t let you die. He chose you over the shard. I never thought I’d see the day a demon faltered, but there’s still enough love in his twisted heart to betray him. Use that love, Sera. Save him. Save him from Hell. Tay will be in touch.”
She stared at Azazel, breathless with the fading command. “But I was more important to you than the shard.”
Oh, he didn’t like that.
His flaws laid bare. His weakness exposed. He eased her onto the bed, so, so carefully, but the look in his eyes incinerated her. “You betrayed me.”
“I saved your life,” she pointed out. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
Dark lashes shuttered his eyes as he glanced down. His gloved fist curled in the sheet, and he hauled it toward him with slow deliberation.
It whispered over her skin until she was naked. Sera could have fought for it, but she didn’t bother. She drew her legs to her chest, but the pose was just as evocative in some ways.
“I will punish you,” he said, and their eyes met as he leaned closer. “I will break you in so many ways.”
“Yes.” She nibbled on her lower lip.
A gloved hand caught her chin. “You belong to me now, Sera.”
“Sariel,” she dared.
