Wren

I hated that my eyes went to where Corson stood ten feet away from me in the small, open section of woods. I tried to get as much distance from him as I could, but I couldn’t stop looking at him and Bale at his side.

Had there ever been anything between them? I’d wondered it more than a few times since meeting them. They were deadly when they killed together; I’d never seen anything escape them. Often, they didn’t speak to each other as they stalked their prey and they seemed to sense what the other would do before they did it. They read each other better than any couple I’d ever known.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re starting to annoy me more than Corson! I snapped at myself. Get it together. Corson said I was his Chosen, but I had no claim on him, and I didn’t want one. He could do whatever or whoever he wanted from here on out.

There were ten thousand more important things to worry about right now. Like why Raphael, one of the most powerful beings on this planet, looked like someone had walked over his grave.

Beside me, Erin shifted, drawing my attention to her. She didn’t look away fast enough to hide the fact she’d been staring at the bite on my neck. I resisted tugging at the collar of my shirt; it was already up as high as it would go. I never should have put my hair in a braid, but it was my habit to wear it that way, and I hadn’t been thinking about the marks when I’d braided it.

It was too late now, and to unbraid it would make it appear like I cared about those marks more than I did. Because I did not care about them at all.

Yeah, and the sky is full of yellow unicorn farts. I glanced at the sky to confirm it was still blue. For all I knew, with everything that had happened, the sky really could be full of some yellow, stinky Hell creature gas. The púca could shapeshift into unicorn-looking beasts after all.

Erin smiled shyly at me, and red color crept into her cheeks. Her almond-shaped, dark ocean-blue eyes radiated warmth. Small and slender, she was as nimble as she was intelligent, and during my time with her, I’d learned Erin Choi was of South Korean and Irish descent.

“What is it you saw, Raphael?”

Caim’s question drew my attention back to the two angels as they stared at each other with open animosity. However, no matter how much they acted as if they despised each other, I’d seen Caim and Raphael both protect each other from an attack. They were like the siblings who pummeled each other into the dirt, but if anyone else dared to do the same, the angels turned on them like rabid dogs. I didn’t know if they realized their protectiveness toward each other or not, but they didn’t hide their bitterness.

Not only were their looks and coloring stark opposites, but so were their personalities. They were both gorgeous though. I assumed that was a given considering God had forged them. The demons and angels may refer to it as the Being, but I’d dutifully donned my little bonnet and dress to attend church every Sunday as a child. The Being would always be God to me.

Raphael focused his attention on the rest of us as he spoke. “The fallen are gathered about three miles from here. They are at the gateway.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of the fallen angels. We were here to kill them, but the idea of them so close was more than a little unnerving.

Caim was the only fallen I’d ever had any interaction with, and he wasn’t so bad. However, I knew his siblings were a lot different than him. They’d all been thrown from Heaven, terrorized Hell for six thousand years, and helped Lucifer unleash Hell on Earth. They were powerful, cruel, and looking to either destroy or enslave humanity. They’d have to kill me before I allowed myself to be caged by one of them.

“The gateway did draw them back,” Corson murmured. “We knew it was a possibility.”

“We did. I don’t like the idea of so many of them so close to us right now, but we expected them to regroup after Lucifer’s death. You are all siblings and such, and you tend to stick together,” Magnus replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

I didn’t know if Magnus was as bored by this conversation as he acted or if he was trying to irritate Raphael. Lifting a hand, Magnus yawned into the back of it while his silver eyes held Raphael’s gaze.

The chiseled planes of Magnus’s sculpted face and his ice-blond hair made him appear more angelic than demonic. However, the two six-inch black horns curving back against the sides of his head were entirely demonic. His hair mostly covered those polished horns, but the tips of them were visible. I’d learned from Erin and Vargas that Magnimus, or Magnus as he preferred to be called, was the last demon of illusions and could weave things out of thin air.

“Yes, the fallen all consider themselves siblings,” Raphael replied, making it clear he didn’t consider them such.

Caim rolled his eyes. “Our bond to you and the other angels may have severed when we fell, but we are siblings still. We were all created by the same power and from the same Heavenly waters.”

Raphael’s eyes narrowed on him. “Yes, we were, but those siblings would happily have my head and yours. They hate you for turning on Lucifer as much as they hate me now. Consider them your brothers and sisters if you will; I consider them my enemies as it will help me to kill them when the time comes.”

For the first time since I’d met him, Caim didn’t seem to know what to say, and it took him a bit to respond. “True,” he grudgingly acknowledged.

“We did expect them to regroup, and we were hoping the gateway would draw them in so we would have a better idea of where they are and what they’re up to,” Raphael continued with a pointed look at Magnus. “We did not expect what I saw.”

“And what is that?” Corson inquired.

“There are twenty-eight of the fallen at the gateway. I assume that is all that remains of them,” Raphael said.

“I didn’t tally up their body count after we battled them the last time, but that sounds about right,” Bale said.

“Those twenty-eight are gathering a following,” Raphael continued.

“Fucking delightful,” Lix said.

Lix pulled the flask hanging from his side free, uncapped it, and took a swig of the beer inside. Though I knew it wouldn’t happen, I held my breath as I waited for the liquid to pour out of Lix’s skeletal frame. Like always, the liquid remained inside him—somewhere.

Most of the skelleins like Lix stood at about four and a half feet tall, but Lix was a little taller than the rest, and from what I’d gathered, he was their leader. All the skelleins loved games, riddles, drinking, and fighting. One of their favorite things to do was attempt to stump Erin with one of their numerous riddles. I hadn’t seen them succeed yet, but they were determined they would.

The skelleins all looked alike with their skull faces and empty eye sockets. I didn’t know the names of most of the other skelleins, as they rarely shared them, but they could be told apart by their distinctive accessories or clothing. They all wore swords and flasks, but they often pilfered clothes wherever they could find them. Right now, Lix sported a black bow tie with yellow ducks on it, along with a green belt looped around his hip bones. The skelleins often donned ridiculous apparel, but I liked their jovial, blood-thirsty personalities.

“We expected them to gather as many of Lucifer’s followers and seal creatures as they could,” Corson said. “Many of those imprisoned behind the seals will resent their time there. They’ll be looking for vengeance, and the angels will offer the possibility of that to them.”

“Yes,” Raphael replied, “there are many craetons there.”

“And we will kill them all,” Shax said.

Aside from Corson, Shax was the demon I’d spent the most time with. I’d first encountered Shax with Kobal and Bale when I’d tried to kill them before following them to the gateway. Kobal and Bale had been in Hell with Corson, River, and Hawk when I’d arrived at the gateway. Shax had remained on Earth with some of the others. Shax hadn’t been thrilled to see me again, but Erin and Vargas convinced him not to kill me outright. He’d continued to distrust me, but I’d gotten to know him better while we were there.

Out of all the demons, Shax was the most human looking. He was six inches taller than me and at least two hundred pounds of solid muscle. His golden blond hair waved around his handsome face. The only thing marking him as something other than human were his sunflower colored eyes.

“There are not enough of us to take on what I saw at the gateway,” Raphael replied. “At least not right now.”

“How many are there?” Shax asked.

“A few hundred.”

Corson’s nostrils flared as he looked at me. “There are that many near us now?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Raphael replied.

“We have to move out of here,” Bale said. “We can’t face that many and survive with our numbers, and we can’t get in contact with any of the other groups to bring them here now that Malorick is dead.”

“That is not the worst of it,” Raphael said.

“There’s something worse than that?” Magnus asked, no longer looking so bored with the conversation.

“Yes.” Raphael’s eyes went to the sky again. I followed his gaze to search for black wings overhead.

“What is it?” Caim inquired.

“Astaroth appears to be leading the craetons now,” Raphael said.

Caim grimaced before speaking. “Yes, I can see that. Not a wise choice on the part of the fallen, but few could attempt to fill Lucifer’s place, and Astaroth is one of the few.”

“Who is Astaroth?” Erin asked.

“He is one of the fallen,” Caim replied. “He is not as powerful as Lucifer, but he can read minds.”

“Oh shit,” Hawk muttered.

“He cannot randomly read a mind,” Caim said. “He must be focused on an individual to do so.”

“I’d prefer not to have my mind read no matter what he has to do. There’s not much up here”—Hawk tapped the side of his head as spoke—“but it’s mine.”

“I agree, there’s not much up there,” Magnus said.

Hawk gave him the finger.

“Astaroth can also astral project,” Caim continued.

“What do you mean by astral project?” Vargas asked.

“He can split himself in two and control the mimicry of himself,” Caim explained.

“Ay dios mio.” Vargas pulled the cross hanging from his necklace out from under his shirt to kiss it.

“He doesn’t do it often,” Caim continued. “The mimicry can’t be killed, but it can be wounded, and he feels those injuries.”

“What if you cut off the mimicry’s head?” I asked.

“Then it vanishes, but he doesn’t die. Maybe his neck hurts afterward or something; I don’t know, I didn’t ask. Astaroth was not one I spoke with often.”

“Why not?” Bale asked.

“He’s an asshole. And I don’t mean he’s an asshole like Raphael can be an asshole. I mean, whereas Lucifer was insane, vicious, and bent on vengeance for all the wrongs he felt he’d endured, and some were valid.” Caim flicked a pointed glance at Raphael as he said this. “I mean, Astaroth was a nasty bastard even when he was in Heaven. The fall didn’t improve his already warped personality. Lucifer killed; Astaroth tortures and maims, allows healing, maims again, and so on.”

“So he’s like the kid who enjoys pulling the legs off spiders,” I said.

Caim’s eyes swirled with color when they met mine. “He’s like the kid who likes to cut the legs off a spider one tiny piece at a time, before feeding the spider to the cat that he later cuts into one small piece at a time and feeds to the dog. Then—”

My stomach lurched sickeningly, and Erin’s hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t want to hear about the dog,” I interrupted and Caim nodded.

I hadn’t seen Astaroth, and I already hated him. Most of the dogs in the Wilds were now feral, but some of them would occasionally creep in to get a belly rub and a scratch behind the ears. A few of them moved around with us, offering protection and giving a warning if something approached. Many canines found their own way now, but we all remembered a time when they were our constant companions.

“Lucifer let Astaroth play with demons to keep him appeased and honed for battle, but he also kept him in check,” Caim continued. “Astaroth was no match for Lucifer’s strength and cunning, and he knew it, but without Lucifer to cage him…”

“He’s free to play with everything and everyone he comes in contact with,” Corson murmured when Caim’s words trailed off.

What would happen if Astaroth got his hands on Corson? What would the malicious angel do to him?

I inhaled a tremulous breath to calm my galloping heart. I couldn’t stand to think of anyone torturing Corson, or any of those I cared about in such a way. Life out here had always been brutal and short, but the destruction of the seals and the rise of the fallen angels had upped the ante.

Demons destroyed; angels tortured before decimating.

I gazed at the small group surrounding me. More demons and humans were establishing a camp nearby, but there were only fifty of us in total. And fifty against a few hundred were not odds I was willing to tempt. I fought when necessary, and I hated backing down, but I hadn’t survived this long by being stupid and staying somewhere when it wasn’t a good idea.

“We have to come up with another plan, get in touch with the other groups and bring them in before we face the angels and craetons,” I said.

“That may not be enough,” Raphael said, and the tone of his voice made the hair on my neck stand up.

“Why not?” Corson demanded.

“The horsemen have joined with the angels.”