PROLOGUE
The Guardians were so close, I could feel their energies, yet their faces were blurry through the haze of my tears. Everything and everyone I loved was lost to me.
Bran.
I heard his thoughts. Felt his anguish, but there was nothing he could do, not unless he wanted to lose me forever. The Tribunal had made its decision—I had to live with my father, a powerful demon, for a year or give up my right to be a Guardian and protector of humanity. Being a Guardian was what I’d trained for over the past year, ever since I got my powers at sixteen and learned I was one of the Nephilim—part human and part angel.
You will be fine, little one, a familiar, melodic voice said inside my head.
I recognized Goddess Xenia’s voice. She, the goddess who’d charged us with guarding humanity, hadn’t stopped the Tribunal from handing down their sentence. Why? Because living among demons was part of some divine plan to prepare me to be the leader of our race. If this was my destiny, why then did I feel betrayed?
Stay out of my head!
A hand wrapped around mine and I turned my head. My sister Solange… No, my stupid, jealousy-ridden, evil half-sister stared at me. I hated her. All this was her fault. Her attempt to get rid of me and become the apple of our father’s eye or some stupid cliché had led us to this.
I wanted to jerk my hand away, but fatigue washed over me like a sudden downpour. It didn’t make sense. Was Solange draining my psi energy—the energy that gave us life and supernatural abilities? Without it, we were nothing. Empty shells. I tried to jerk my hand from Solange but couldn’t. Tried to stop my eyelids from drooping but failed.
Darkness wrapped around me, offering me temporary comfort, and I embraced it.
Seconds later, I picked up on things—the soft pillow under my head, the warm wrap covering me, the birds calling through the window, and the crashing waves. But the most insistent and annoying were the voices.
They demanded that I get up, eat, and communicate with them. I tuned them out and sought solace in sleep. It took away the pain and gave me dreams of the people I loved. I’d thought I could be strong, but I wasn’t. I was weak, scared, and angry. Maybe I would sleep for an entire year, like Sleeping Beauty, and only wake up when it was time to rejoin the Guardians.
“If she doesn’t eat, she won’t survive, my Lord,” a female voice said. “We’ve tried everything, even the Kris Dagger, but it is not responding to her.”
I wanted to laugh, but then they’d know I was awake. The Kris Dagger would remain useless until I held it. The power of the mighty weapon forged by Azazel, my ancestor and a Principality, was no longer contained in the blade. It was in me.
“I wanted a daughter, not a corpse,” Lord Valafar bellowed. “Call every Prime Psi in the league. The Prime who can compel her to do as she is told will have untold riches and a seat in my court.”
I drifted again. Hours passed. Or was it days? It didn’t matter. I didn’t care. At times, I was in a state of unconsciousness, not able to open my eyes, yet my senses stayed alert. Sometimes I woke up to someone trying to get inside my head.
I fought back and screams filled the room.
“Even unconscious, she’s powerful, my Lord,” the woman said. “That was the tenth Prime she’s reduced to a catatonic state. The rest don’t dare try.”
“Throw them in the dungeons. Bring in Dante.”
Dante. My protector. Could he really be here? I knew the moment he appeared in the room. His psi energy was familiar. There was a sewer-like stench in the air. Was that from him? He was a dashing guy with impeccable taste in clothes. I wished I could spare him, but I couldn’t afford to be sentimental now.
“How dare you bring him to me unwashed?” Lord Valafar bellowed. “Clean him up.” I know you can hear me, daughter, he said, linking with me before I could block him. Your protector is a prisoner in my dungeons. Only you can help him. Stop being difficult.
Using all my powers, I pushed my father from my head. He couldn’t fight me. I’d always been stronger than him. I wanted to open my eyes and help Dante, but I refused to give my father the satisfaction of manipulating me again. Like most Prime Psis, Dante was powerful, but I could still hurt him.
I refused to link with him.
“Little one, you must stop this,” Dante said. “You are a fighter. You’ve faced your worst enemies and survived. You can’t give up now.” I remained silent. “The entire Nephilim race is depending on you, Lilith.” Fight him, little one. Don’t let him win.
Lord Valafar roared. Then there was a sickening thud. My heart bled for Dante, but there was nothing I could do for him now. I needed a plan. I had to survive this year. I just didn’t know how.
“My Lord, what are we going to do?” the same woman asked. There was fear and doubt in her voice.
“I need to consult someone,” Lord Valafar said. His voice sounded troubled now.
Silence followed, and then someone sat by my side and gripped my hair. The pain radiated down my neck, but I fought hard not to wince.
“Listen, you little brat,” a female voice snarled in my ear, her voice dry and brittle. “We worked hard to get you here, so do what you are told or your Guardian friends are going to die. We have Raphael on speed dial.”
Really? She actually thought a threat would work on me? They didn’t stand a chance against the Guardians, and Raphael was out of commission, thanks to me.
Her grip eased. The next second, she was stroking the same area of my hair. “Little princess, you need to stop this foolishness.” Her voice was back to being sweet. “You can’t win, not against your father. Please, give him a chance to love and guide you. That’s all he’s ever wanted.”
I wanted to tell her to shut up, but I realized why she’d changed her tactics. My father was back in the room. Once again, he wasn’t alone. Sure that I’d scramble the brain of whoever he’d brought, I waited.
The person didn’t speak and I couldn’t locate his psi energy, which was strange. I could find anyone’s energy. A weird suspicion worked its way into my mind. My eyes flew open and I saw him.
Archangel Raphael. My worst nightmare.
He grinned, light from the window making his golden hair look like a halo, his massive wings draping over his back like a cloak. The one I’d nearly chopped off was angled oddly against his body. I screamed and launched myself at him.
At least, that was my intention. Instead, I found myself paralyzed. A sudden chill crept under my skin as though I’d been dunked in ice-cold water. I tried to lock onto his energy, but I couldn’t. My energy was being drained, my mind scrambled into goo. My eyesight dimmed and my chest hurt with every breath I took. I tried to find my father, to beg him to stop the archangel. Promise him to be a dutiful daughter. I think I did, but my hearing was gone. Then I was free-falling into a depthless void.