Amaya had a split second to say, “What are you talking about,” when Bane had Razuel’s throat locked in his hands.

“You’re drunk,” Bane snarled.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not telling the truth,” Razuel wheezed.

Amaya latched onto Bane’s arm and yanked. She shifted him enough for Razuel to laugh in their faces, then Bane was on him again. Shadows frothed on the other side of the room, but the two UnHallowed didn’t seem to care or notice. She stepped back, afraid they were about to snatch everyone into the depths.

Gadreel stepped from the shadows. She recognized him, even though she had never met the UnHallowed. Although, Braile’s memories didn’t have Gadreel decked out in leather from the neck down with a leather hoody covering his head. All she could see were his gunmetal eyes and trim beard.

His gaze narrowed on Bane and Razuel with disdain and then swung to her. The disdain didn’t change, though he did say, “I have news,” and he strode down the hallway, past the pool table to the other common area where the others continued to play Call of Duty.

“I’ve found the Cruor,” Gadreel announced, garnering everyone’s undivided attention. “Las Vegas. Malphas owns a hotel on the strip. That’s where he has it.”

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner! Road trip!” Chay rubbed his hands together. He wasn’t the only one excited. Palpable tension seeped into the air. One side of Kush’s mouth curled. Not a pretty sight with his scar stretching across the bridge of his nose to the corner of his lip. Her palm itched, as if it missed having a weapon to grip. She flexed her fingers to dull the sensation and caught Bane staring at her.

“I love Vegas. We get the Cruor, play some craps. Find a poker game. A few women.” Rimmon leered at Amaya as if daring her to object when she could care less what he did with his dick.

“It’s midnight here. Means it’s nine there. Plenty of time to get there through the conduits and kill him.” Kush headed for a shadowed corner, followed by Chay, Zed, and a shirtless Rimmon.

Amaya quelled a shudder. She couldn’t go through the conduits. Angels and the shadows didn’t mix. They had to know, and didn’t care.

“There’s an issue.” The quartet halted at Gadreel’s words. All the excitement drained out of the room. “It’s not there right now.”

Smart people don’t ask obvious questions. Everyone waited, though Amaya needed him to spit it out in a hurry.

“During the day, it’s in Vegas. At night, he moves it by a dimensional pocket. I can’t follow it. My guess is he moves it to some place with plenty of sun.”

“A place where we can’t go. Fuck.” Chay punched the wall nearest to him, cracking the stone surface.

“Exactly. It returns to its position on the roof of the building every sunrise. The bastard planned this well,” Gadreel said.

“It doesn’t matter. The job remains the same. I pulled Amaya to safety through the earth. We get to the floor beneath the Cruor and yank it through the roof. In and out in less than five minutes.”

Amaya couldn’t be the only one who thought this plan was, at best, sketchy. At worst, deadly. Kush seemed eager. Was she the only one that thought this plan was insane?

“We leave in two minutes.” Bane said.

“Why leave now?” she whispered to Bane when the others headed to their rooms.

“We get there early, scope out the terrain. Come up with a contingency plan, in case shit goes sideways.”

Sound idea, but she was still on edge. “I can’t go through the conduits with you, so how am I—” The expression on his face gave her the answer. “I’m not staying here.”

“You’re staying to guard Daghony.”

“I’m not a nurse!”

Bane cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. “Are you refusing to care for him when he risked his life for you?”

She gritted her teeth to keep from strangling him. “I don’t know Daghony well, but I am certain his priority would be saving the Cruor.”

Bane nodded. “You’re right. He’d drag his overcooked ass out of bed and demand to go with us. That’s why you’re staying to make sure he stays put.”

Kush, Zed, Chay, and Rimmon lined up next to Bane, each laden with weapons. Kush had his tri-blade, Chay a single sword, while Rimmon had two blades strapped to his waist, and he’d finally covered his chest with a fitted white shirt. Zed had no weapons she could see. All were dressed similarly in fitted clothing with long sleeves. Zed and Bane favored long coats— black leather for Bane—while Zed favored some type of burlap cloak.

Razuel saluted them and walked into the shadows.

“Is he going ahead?” she asked.

“He’s drunk, Amaya.”

She took a quick head count. “Are five of you enough to infiltrate a Vegas hotel with lots of access points and lots of windows?” Killing Darklings in alleys and abandoned homes didn’t come close to what they were about to attempt.

“It will be,” Chay said as he and the rest of the UnHallowed strode into a corner at the back of the room and vanished into the shadows.

Amaya whipped around to Bane. Panic choked her. “What about Sam, Sammiél? Is he meeting you there?” Having the Archangel of Death on your team had to tip the odds in your favor.

“No.” He pulled on a pair of black leather gloves.

She spun away from him, only to be grabbed, and yanked back to him. He gripped her shoulders, holding her until she stopped struggling to free herself.

“I’m not flattered by your lack of faith.”

Faith? How could she have faith when slapped with reality? His hands dropped to his sides, but not before his fingers brushed her wings. She looked into his eyes, desperate to know his thoughts. He seemed calm enough, prepared for what he needed to do. Was that for her benefit?

“Stay here, Amaya. I’ll be back with the Cruor.” He swept past her, his leather coat flaring as he moved. The shadows reached for him.

“Good luck,” she blurted at the last second.

He paused, but didn’t turn around. “So, you believe in luck, but not in faith?” he threw over his shoulder.

“Faith hasn’t gotten me anywhere, but I have been lucky.” The last thing she saw was his smirk, then the shadows swallowed him.

She couldn’t explain the panic engulfing her. It was irrational, yet blooming in the center of her chest. Have faith he said. How to do that when the last time she had faith Braile left her?

“Get over it,” she mumbled, not quite sure which she meant, get over Braile or get over Bane. This was the second time he’d dumped her, left her by the wayside. There wouldn’t be a third.

Five UnHallowed went to battle one Demoni Lord. However badass Malphas was, he couldn’t defeat all of them.

Amaya made her way down the hallway to Daghony’s room. She’d keep him company until he was upright and the others returned. She halted in the doorway, surprised by Gadreel at his bedside. The glow from the bedside lamp cast him in stark relief. This seemed to be the first time she truly got a good look at him. The black leather covering him molded to every muscle and sinew. It resembled armor rather than a fashion faux pas. He stood over Daghony, watching with flat gunmetal eyes. He didn’t look up when she entered.

“Why are you here and not with the others?”

“I would if I could, but I can’t.” His attention remained on Daghony.

She didn’t understand what can’t meant. “They left a few minutes ago. You can catch up in the conduits.”

Aggression leeched from him. “Did you not hear me? I said, I can’t.”

“Okay. Why can’t you?”

Finally, his gaze left Daghony’s unconscious body to meet hers. “You have Braile’s grace, you should have all his memories.”

She stiffened. Asking how he knew this was as good as admitting the truth. She shifted through the memories of Braile she did have. There weren’t many. Of those she had access to, Gadreel was a clean-shaven, trimmed-hair, burly of build archangel with an easy laugh. He loved to fight, testing his skill he called it, against any brave enough to take up the challenge. Sammiél refused the bait. Michael was above such things. Kushiél lost, but took it in stride. Braile fought Gadreel to a draw, and that was only after the Archangel of Weapons had trained for millennia just for that battle.

“I met with Braile centuries after the fall. I wanted him to petition Father for a meeting. Not only for me, for all of us. Braile refused. It took me centuries to forgive him, though he was correct to refuse my request.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I wanted redemption to end my suffering, not because I had learned something.”

“How are you suffering?” she asked.

His gaze flinty, he snapped, “You think I enjoy dressing in leather covering every inch of my body?”

She shrugged. “I just want to know why you’re not with the UnHallowed. They need you. I can stay here and take care of Daghony.”

He was in her face, backing her up against the nearest wall without a single touch. “Do you think if I could, I wouldn’t be in Vegas with them, plotting Malphas’s imminent death?”

“Then why? What?” Amaya shoved him back. She didn’t like him so close to her. “What’s the reason?”

His eyes narrowed into thin slits. “No one has told you?”

Pissed, she held up one finger. “This is the first time you and I have met. No one has told me jack shit about you.”

He nodded, his gaze hooded. “I was the Archangel of Weapons. No weapon ever made is a mystery to me, can harm me. After the Great Betrayal, my flesh cannot touch any weapon without becoming a living weapon, bent on killing anything breathing in the most brutal way. Now do you understand why I can’t go with my brothers?”

The UnHallowed wasn’t looking for her sympathy and she had none to give. “Fine, since you’re useless to me, you can stay and take care of Daghony while I go help.”

She walked around him, close to the bed. Daghony’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “You’re awake?” She dropped to a knee and clasped his hand to her chest.

“Where are they? My brothers, where?” he wheezed.

“Not your problem. You rest and let us handle everything.”

“Where?” he demanded and pushed onto his elbows. The skin around his elbows, shoulders, and abs cracked and oozed a grayish liquid. Gadreel rushed to Daghony’s other side and shoved him onto his back, and pinned him by the shoulders.

“Rest,” Gadreel demanded. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Daghony put up a brief struggle, then collapsed, unconscious again.

Gadreel met her gaze. “Go. I’ll watch him. I won’t let him hurt himself.”

Antsy to leave, Amaya rushed for the door, then paused. Daghony’s welfare was her responsibility. “Are you sure you can handle it?” she asked Gadreel.

“I can’t wield a weapon. Doesn’t mean I can’t care for an invalid.”

Amaya ran for her bedroom. She changed into her ninja outfit of black yoga pants and Under Armor compression tee, jackboots, and black hoodie, after she took a pair of scissors to the compression and hoodie to accommodate her wings. Then she strapped the weapons she’d trusted almost her entire life onto her body. She looked at the bed where she’d laid her new sword before getting a shower. It was gone, yet, she was certain it would show up when she needed it.

She smoothed her hair into a low ponytail, and climbed out of her window and onto the roof. There was only one person who could help her. Hopefully, she hadn’t gotten too far, and if she had, Amaya had an idea where she may be headed.

Amaya just had to fly to get to that person’s destination. “Birds do it and I will too.”

Without hesitation, she opened her wings and jumped.