“Shut up, Anagar,” hissed Baruk.
“What can I say,” said Anagar as he tore off another piece of meat, “she’s growing on me.”
Alexa glowered at Anagar and he laughed. If she wasn’t so busy with trying to stay alive, she would have leaped over there and punched the smile off his face.
“You need to finish this now, little brother,” said Baruk. “Come now. Show us what it means to be Nephilim and kill that pest.”
“Maybe he can’t,” interjected Hadaz, as he rubbed his axes over his armor. “He couldn’t kill the Dunnars or the farmer in Mills Meadow or that wench from Blackpool, now could he? He stood there while we did.” He shook his head. “I say he can’t. He can’t do it.”
“He will.” Baruk’s face darkened. “Won’t you, little brother? He must take a life. An innocent life. You wouldn’t disappoint Father, would you?”
When Alexa looked at Milo, she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. But they never fell.
He shot forward, his sword aiming for Alexa’s chest where her heart used to be, but she rolled to the side, the edge of the blade slicing through her soft flesh.
Alexa cried out, holding the gash at her side, essence pouring out of her.
“This isn’t real!” she yelled. “Think! Look at the collar around your neck… remember… remember why it’s there. Remember why we’re here!”
Even in purgatory Milo’s strength outmatched Alexa’s. There was nothing she could do but try to stay alive and pray that whatever was affecting him would eventually wear off.
The problem was, they were running out of time.
Milo lunged at her again, a strange madness in his eyes that paralyzed her for a moment. She dashed to the side at the last moment, but something kicked her hard in the back and she fell to her knees. She felt the warm breath of Anagar’s voice in her ear, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t let my little brother get all the fun.”
Alexa grimaced. “Go to hell, creep.”
Anagar slammed a fist into her stomach with a horrifying crunch. When she doubled over, the Nephilim grabbed her hair and drew the soul blade. For one frightful instant she was certain he meant to open her throat. The blade glinted before her eyes—
Alexa kicked out with her legs, connected with his knee, and heard a satisfying snap. He let her go with a howl.
“You’re going to pay for that, angel,” Anagar snarled. “Forget my brother. I’m going to kill you and I’m going to use your own weapon.”
“Enough,” she heard Baruk rasp. “She is Milo’s kill, not yours.”
Anagar bared his teeth like a wild dog but moved to the side.
Alexa looked over to Milo, who had just stood there and waited for his brother to finish, as though he didn’t care who killed her.
Everything smelled of blood and smoke and iron, but after a time it seemed like that was only one smell, death.
“Milo, finish this!”
Milo came at her again. He moved with lethal grace and surety. When he attacked, he moved so swiftly that despite her months and months of training, she was barely able to jerk away as his blade grazed her throat.
He moved around her, circling with a predator’s gait and devouring her misery and pain bit by bit, tasting and savoring. There was no way out.
“You don’t want to do this,” said Alexa as she leapt out of the way, wincing as she tore the gash on her side. “Milo, please, listen to me for just a moment—”
Milo brought his sword down hard. Alexa feinted left, but then he reeled faster than she’d ever seen any angel move—and plunged his sword into her right hip.
Alexa screamed as he pulled out his sword, yanking it back in an upwards stroke and lengthening the cut. The smile he gave her nearly sent her to her knees.
Her legs shook as she limped away from him, staring at the angel who had sworn to protect her but was now her enemy. He was going to kill her. He wanted to kill her.
As she shuffled through ash and dirt, a stab of pain went through her legs, her hip. Tears filled her eyes. A cold, ripple welled through her body, stiffening her legs and making it harder to stay upright. Her mortal suit was failing.
“Who sent you?” asked Milo. “My father will want to know. He hates surprises.”
“We came together,” said Alexa and tasted the salt-like substance of her tears.
“Liar!” Anger flashed across Milo’s angelic face and he sprinted forward.
Without pause, Alexa spun, evading the killing thrust of Milo’s blade, but the ground wavered, and she knew her energy was spent. Her arms were weary, and her strength was flagging.
“Why would I lie? Why would I even come here if I knew I’d be outmatched by four Nephilim… and an angel.”
Confusion crossed Milo’s features. He lowered his sword. “Angel? What angel? You’re the only angel here.”
“No. You are an angel too, Milo. Can’t you feel it? You…” she swallowed and then added, “You died. You died because you were overcome with grief, grief at what your brothers had done. All the murders of those innocent mortals—women and children. That wasn’t you. That’s not you. You were never like them, like your brothers. You were better.”
The Nephilim growled their protests, but Alexa ignored them. Baruk’s eyes were shadowed beneath his heavy brow, his mouth tight while his jaw worked silently, as though he was cursing Alexa. If Milo didn’t kill her, she knew Baruk would.
“Shut up,” said Milo, glancing at his brothers as though he was worried they believed her. “I’m a Nephilim.”
“The Legion gave you a second chance,” she pressed, talking as fast as she could now that he had stopped trying to kill her and was listening. “They saw the good in you that I’ve seen. They could see you had a kind soul, that you weren’t one of them. That you weren’t cruel and that you never took part in their horrible crimes. You’re one of the best guardian angels the Legion has.”
“Lies. All lies. I’m a Nephilim. I was born a Nephilim.”
“Yes, and then you died. You’re an angel, Milo. A guardian angel, sworn to protect all mortals and their souls.”
“Shut up.” Milo reached up and rubbed his temples, shaking his head like he was trying to rid it of Alexa’s voice.
Alexa took a chance and limped closer to him until, had she wanted, she could reach out and touch him. “We came to purgatory to look for the only weapon that could defeat Hades—the bone sword—it’s why we came… together… you and I. We’re a team. A pair of angels.”
“I said shut up!”
A sudden blow slammed Alexa’s face. Black spots flashed before her eyes. Her knees buckled and she collapsed.
A hand ran over her scalp and yanked her head back. With great effort, she tried to wiggle from his grasp, but she might as well have been trying to hold off a grizzly bear.
She blinked as she looked down the length of the sword held at her face. The point was no more than an inch away from her right eye.
“Who sent you!”
When Alexa didn’t answer, Milo pressed the tip of the sword on her cheek, right below her eye. “Who sent you! Why did you come here?”
“No one sent me,” she said through gritted teeth, tears running freely down her face. “We came together. We came for the bone sword. We came to save the mortal world from the pagan gods… it’s all my fault.”
Milo glowered down at her. “Don’t give me your filthy excuses, angel. If you knew how much trouble it would be to come here, you should have stayed away.”
Alexa blinked through her tears, her soul shattered at the hatred she saw in his eyes, the eyes she thought she’d fallen… she wasn’t sure what she thought, not anymore.
Alexa spat blood from her mouth. Her ears rang. And then there was pain. She couldn’t push herself up. Her head felt as if a tree had fallen on it. The Milo she knew had to be in there somewhere, and there had to be some way to reach him.
“Milo… it’s me… it’s Alexa. I’m your friend.”
“Friend?” laughed Milo. “You angels tried to kill us. You tried to kill me and my brothers. You’re no friend of mine. It’s only fair that I kill you first.”
“You’re not a murderer,” she pleaded. Her essence dripped from the corners of her mouth. “I know you’re in there somewhere… come back… come back to me. I need you. I need your help to finish the trials!” She swallowed and then said, “I can’t do this without you. I—I need you.”
Milo’s expression tightened. The muscles in his face twitched like he was in pain. She saw his shoulders tense and a flash of anguish in his eyes, the look of a trapped animal.
Pain flickered in her gut at the torment in his face, but she took another chance.
“You told me you never killed anyone. You never laid a hand on any mortal, but you felt guilty because you just stood there and watched as they massacred innocent women and children.”
“I…don’t…” Milo hesitated, and so Alexa kept going.
“You felt guilty, you told me so. They still haunt you—the murders—you’ve been trying to make amends ever since. Because you stood there and did nothing to stop it.” Alexa was silent for a moment. “But you didn’t kill them. You never killed anyone. You’re not a killer, Milo.”
“What did you say?” Milo’s voice was hoarse, broken.
“You’re not a killer,” breathed Alexa, pain lancing down her side and abdomen.
He turned his head, an eye still on his brothers. Pain, grief, and rage sparked in those eyes. Yet, somehow, beneath it all, Alexa saw something else—a spark of light.
“You have a kind soul,” she treaded carefully, seeing the change in him. “It’s what sets you apart from them. It’s why you never fit it with them, why you never joined their slaughters, because you knew it was wrong.”
Milo’s eyes were on his brothers. They burned with white fire, like the flames that burned the white demon.
“Kill her. Kill the angel,” snapped Baruk.
Milo frowned. “Angel… you killed angels.” Not a question.
Alexa’s body trembled. The last of her strength trickled through her like the tears from her eyes.
“And if I did?” Baruk narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “They deserved it. And I’ll kill many more, starting with that one, if you don’t finish her.”
The light in Milo’s eyes returned.
“I can’t do this,” he said, half-gasping. “I can’t hurt her—”
“Kill her, you fool!” barked Baruk. “Kill her or I’ll do it for you—after I’ve killed you!”
Milo didn’t move. He was staring from Alexa to Baruk, to the others, and then back again to Alexa.
Milo’s hand drew back. Alexa braced herself for the killing blow, her lips trembling.
Milo pulled away his sword, shaking his head. “No. This is wrong.”
“I knew it!” cried Ruthus. “I told you he was a traitor. We should kill him—kill them both!”
The Nephilim all cried out their discontentment and shouted insults, none louder than Hadaz himself. He shouted so hard that spit and snot dribbled from his nose, but Milo wasn’t paying them any attention. His eyes were fixed on Alexa.
Milo panted as though he’d run a great distance in a very short amount of time. “Alexa?” he gasped and blinked several times.
The voice was his. It was him.
Alexa’s lips trembled as she smiled, trying hard not to burst into tears. “Welcome back.”
“Neither of you are leaving here alive,” said Baruk, his rough voice slithering through the courtyard. “This time I will make you bleed, little brother. I swear it. It’s over.”
Milo let go of her hair, his face twisting as though he were in pain. “What have I done?”
“Nothing yet, thank God,” said Alexa, her voice feeble in her own ears.
Milo dropped his sword and pulled her against his chest. “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”
With his arms tightly around her, she felt a shudder ripple through him, as if he were fighting something, pushing against it. He’d never held her like this before. He clung to her as though he was afraid to let her go, as though if he let go of her now—he’d lose her forever.
Frail and tired, Alexa let herself fall in Milo’s strong embrace, her chin resting partly on his collar and partly on his shoulder. He smelled of leather and ash and sweat, but she didn’t care. It felt awesome.
Alexa wanted to stay like this, wrapped protectively in his arms, the Inferno Trials forgotten. It felt so right…
And just when Alexa was about to answer him, the world shifted, the angry howls from the Nephilim vanished and all was darkness.
CHAPTER 25
ALEXA HEARD A VOICE ABOVE HER. “Alexa? Alexa can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes and stared at Milo’s concerned face from above. They were alive.
“Where are we?” Grunting with effort, Alexa struggled to her feet. She wavered as searing pain flickered in her gut and around her side. Before Milo answered, she lifted her shirt and checked herself. Her soul blade had reappeared once again, but she still had deep wounds where Milo had stabbed her. At least that part had been real.
“Sorry about those,” said Milo. His voice was harsh, and the anguish in it made her throat tight. “I wasn’t myself.”
“I know,” she said and did her best to hide the pain from her face. “I’m just glad you had the sense to come back to your real self when you did.”
Milo couldn’t be blamed for his actions, Alexa thought. It was her fault, her own most grievous fault, that they were here doing these trials in the first place. She noticed Milo’s swords wrapped around his back.
Still, she felt a stronger, deeper connection to her petty officer now, as though the second trial had opened The Book of Milo. She’d seen a glimpse into his past, of what and who he was before he became an angel. That one encounter explained a lot about the mysterious angel. He’d only shared a little about his past to her before, and she’d always suspected that his reluctance to share was because he was ashamed—ashamed of not stopping his brothers from committing all those murders when he could have.
But had the Inferno Trials really shown a true glimpse into Milo’s life? Alexa was sure it had. It explained why the angel had been so caught up in it—because it was real to him.
It also opened her eyes to a whole new side of him. What had made Milo so different from his brothers? Was it his mother? And why was he Lucifer’s favorite? Perhaps she’d never find out. Perhaps it was time for Milo to let go of his past and stop torturing himself over the things he didn’t do.
When she looked at his face more clearly, it had a dried-out look, emaciated look to it, and his eyes were hollow. Even his hair had lost its sheen. Milo looked sick, and angels didn’t get sick.
“How do you feel?” Milo’s voice was sharp with concern, taking the question right out of Alexa’s mouth.
“Like I’ve been hit by a train,” she answered. “I’m okay, really,” she added quickly seeing the deep frown on his face. “Well enough to continue,” she lied. Alexa knew she was far from okay. It was an effort just to keep the pain from her voice.
She knew the last trial would be the most difficult and challenging. With Milo’s sickly looking and her body, frail and drained of its energy, she couldn’t help but wonder if finishing the trials was even a possibility. How could she face the final trial when she could barely stand without shaking?
“Why are you staring at me like that?” said Alexa. “I said I was fine.”
His eyes widened suddenly. “Alexa.”
“What?”
“Your collar… it’s… it’s not green anymore, it’s gray.”
Alexa gazed at his collar. “Yours too. What do you think it means?”
“I can’t be sure,” began Milo, “but I think it has something to do with the amount of time we have left to complete the trials.”
“And gray would mean…”
She’d forgotten about
the watch. When she looked at it now, her spirits sank. They only had twenty-five minutes left to complete the last challenge. They’d wasted too much time on the first two trials.
“We spent too much time on the second trial, didn’t we?” said Milo as though he read her mind.
“We spent the exact time we needed to finish it,” she said. The last thing she needed was for Milo’s guilt to slow him down. She needed him sharp.
“I should have known it was just an illusion, part of these stupid tests.” Milo rubbed his eyes. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t shake it off because it was real—well, at least it was real to me. I was back with my brothers, before everything started…” When he looked at her, his eyes were full of regret. “It was as real to me as you are to me right now. It was quite the mind trip.”
“Stop torturing yourself, Milo. What’s done is done. We need to move forward and focus on the last trial. What is the last trial anyway?”
Milo’s features tensed as he turned from her.
Alexa finally took the time to look around, trying to get a feel for the final trial. But something wasn’t right. The shock shot through Alexa with the heat of the white fires, and she nearly stumbled.
“We’re back in the bone sword’s chamber?”
But it wasn’t a question. Alexa stared in disbelief at the same round, open chamber with the stone altar in its center and a blazing green sword suspended above it as though held by magic. It was exactly where she’d last seen it.
It was as though they’d never left. A cold shiver crept through her. Alexa focused her vision, looking straight at the point where her senses told her hundreds of demons lurked in the shadows of the chamber.
Alexa spun on the spot, part of her pain forgotten as it was replaced by a shot of white-hot anger. “What’s going on here? Why the hell are we back here again?”
“To complete the final trial, of course,” said a familiar voice.
The City of Flame and Shadow Page 19
