P

ower lashed across Bane’s mid-section and flung him, Kushiél, Chayyliél, Ioath, Zedekiél, and Rimmon threw the shattered windows of the Vegas casino and into the bright morning sun. His roasting skin didn’t compare to the agony of seeing Amaya, crawling over a Spaun, away from the Cruor, reaching for him.

At the same time, Malphas appeared behind Amaya, reaching for her. Triumph on the Demoni Lord’s face would be fodder for all his future nightmares. Did Malphas know of her origins? Of what coursed in her blood? Or did he think her just an angel? Either way, he would use her, and then kill her.

And Bane would kill him.

Those were his thoughts as he made like a s’more. Though covered in leather pants, long-sleeved Henley and leather duster, they offered no protection from the lethal rays. He burned. Correction, the UnHallowed burned. Five fallen angel fireballs. How had Daghony survived this when he was caught in the sun training Amaya to fly? His brain shut down and instinct took over.

He latched onto Kush’s collar and shouted, “Grab Chay.” Kush managed to grab Chay and snag Ioath before he tumbled out of reach. Rimmon and Zed were too far away.

Falling with flames licking his skin, Bane spotted a flagpole attached to the side of the building, and grabbed it at the last second. The metal creaked and bent, almost in slow motion. His shoulder screamed from the sudden deceleration, and then something popped, an ominous sound that echoed inside his body. He ignored the spreading numbness and willed his fingers to hold onto the pole. He used the momentum to fling all three of his UnHallowed brothers through a nearby window.

Chay, Ioath, and Kush crashed through the glass and kept rolling across a desk, sofa, and coffee table, demolishing everything in their way until they made it to the shaded recesses of the room. Bane took a second to search for Rimmon and Zed, and zeroed in on a hole in the atrium roof. The two would make it to the shadows even if they had to crawl.

Bane dove through the shattered window. He rolled to his feet over jagged pieces of glass, and strode for the nearest exit, his arm a dead piece of meat hanging at his side.

“Where are you going?” Kush demanded. Shadows crawled up his smoldering body as Chay sagged between him and Ioath, all in the same toasty condition.

By the agony strafing Bane’s senses, he was no better off than the three of them. “For Amaya.” He slammed his shoulder against the door jam. White-hot light flared behind his closed eyelids and blanked his mind for a few precious seconds. Then his brain rebooted and he was back online and striding from the room.

Razor blades took up residence under his skin as his arm reanimated. He breathed through the distraction and kept moving, nothing would stop him from getting to her. Halfway down the hallway, Kush appeared at his side, keeping pace. “Chay and Ioath?” Bane asked.

“The shadows took them.”

“Good.” Chayyliél—formerly the Powerful One—and Ioath—formerly the Archangel of Demons—sustained more damage than Kush or Bane. They’d heal pain free in the shadows. “Go search for Zed and Rimmon,” Bane ordered.

Kush gave a single shake of his head, enough to whip his mohawk from one side of his tattooed head to the other. “And leave you to face Malphas alone? No. Zed and Rimmon can take care of themselves.”

“And I can’t?” Bane didn’t like the implication, and cranked his head around to glare at Kush. The former Archangel of Atonement’s eyes weren’t full red, yet he vibrated. Bane didn’t think it was from pain or rage. There was an eagerness to the UnHallowed. Punishment and Pain—Kush’s M.O. since he fell from grace. Right now, he had the pain, all he needed was the punishment he would deliver to those in need of atonement. Same job, different carrot.

“Go alpha male with your woman when we get her back,” Kush snarled, the scar dissecting his face was white compared to his charred skin and burned mohawk.

Bane liked the sound of “His Woman.” That’s exactly what Amaya was. His. And no one fucked with what belonged to him. Malphas would pay with blood and bone.

The horror stamped on her face when he was thrown out of the room and into the sun replayed. In those last moments, he felt her fear radiating across the distance separating them. Fear directed at him.

He looked into her eyes and saw a reflection of all he wanted, all he cared for, all he demanded. He saw their future, which didn’t include one of them frying and the other enslaved.

At the end of the hallway, the elevator dinged, causing them to halt. One of four possibilities could exit the elevator. Spaun and Darklings would be killed without delay. Human…would be a problem. Killing them placed his UnHallowed neck on the celestial chopping block, again. Or it could be Malphas.

Please let it be Malphas.

“Why are we not in the shadows?” Kush pointed to a shaded area next to a potted plant.

“Given our injuries, the shadows may keep us.”

The elevator opened and Spaun poured out. How he wanted to slay every single one of the fuckers. Kush had his weapons in his hands, prepared to be covered in entrails. Bane ached to do the same, but now wasn’t the time. With no choice left, he grabbed Kush’s collar and shoved him into the shadows beside the plant, a place belonging to the UnHallowed alone. No demon, nor Spaun could survive there. Demoni Lords… One had never breached the conduits to determine if they could survive.

Sucked through the tiny strip of shadow, darkness surrounded them. Night was day to an UnHallowed. They moved through the conduits fast and when the shadows resisted their exit, they forced their way out into the shaded corner behind the open door of the conference room. Bane made to step out into the harsh sunlight. Kush dragged him back to the safety of the corner. “Let’s not be too predictable?”

“Fuck it. We’re here now.” Bane shook Kush off and continued into the sun.

“Aren’t we crispy enough?” Kush stepped forth, squinting against the glare.

Bane’s flesh boiled with every step. He didn’t give a damn as he strode over the debris from the destroyed ceiling, windows, and furniture.

Malphas was gone. The Cruor was gone.

“Amaya!” he roared, but she too, was gone.