A

maya whipped her guns out and didn’t ease up on the trigger until both clips emptied. Taige—fucking bastard—screamed but didn’t go down. Two clips of holy bullets and he was still upright. She tossed her guns aside and started tossing throwing stars. The Spaun moved so fast, contorting his body in angles an Olympic gymnast couldn’t duplicate. His foot never left Scarla’s head.

Dina rushed past Amaya. Taige blocked the first swipe of her blade. A different Spaun snapped her head back with a fist to her face. She brought her sword around and cut its arm off, grabbed it by the gullet and tossed it into Taige. He caught it, and in the process stumbled back, away from Scarla.

Amaya dove into Taige like a linebacker. She hooked him around the middle and drove him backward, away from Scarla and the UnHallowed. A roar went up behind her. She didn’t need to look to know that somehow the UnHallowed had joined the fight.

A blow between her wings knocked the wind out of her. She went into the mud, followed by a handful of demons. Her wings vanished, saving them from being crushed beneath the kicks to her body. She freed two blades from her vest and stabbed her way to freedom.

Taige was there to help her the final few inches when air became desperate. He swatted the demons away, took her by the arm, and punched her square in the chest. Amaya swore her heart skipped a beat. Her vision went monochrome like a TV before Technicolor, then snapped back into 3D. When he hauled back to let loose another blow, she blocked his arm and buried a blade in the side of his neck, twisted, and yanked it free.

An oily WD-40 smell filled the air as his blood spurted from the gaping wound. Amaya dodged most of it, but some landed on her tactical vest and burned though the sleeves securing half her blades. This close to him, she had no room to maneuver. Her sword would be a hindrance.

Time to brawl. She started slugging, putting everything she had into each punch. Taige took the beating and inflicted his own. He bloodied her lip, broke a few ribs, judged by her labored breathing when she couldn’t bring her fist around quickly enough.

This had to end. Had to end today. This second and not a moment longer.

On a sudden surge, Darklings took the air, filling the sky. Thousands of ethereal demons…until they merged into one massive solid creature, blocking the moonlight, pitching them all into the dark. Even with her superior eyesight, she couldn’t tell where the creature ended and the sky began. And if she couldn’t see the demons, good chance Team UnHallowed wouldn’t be able to either. Dina and Sophie would be dead in no time. The UnHallowed were already helpless without adding absolute darkness to the mix. She had to do something, or else they were all as good as dead.

Amaya kicked Taige away. Two hard flaps and she took to the skies, her sword back in her hand—the edge glowing—leading the way. She plunged it into the belly of the beast and watched. Power coiled within her and unleashed with a surge up her arm and through her sword as a bolt of lightning. Like an enraged thundercloud, the entire Darkling lit up from the energy zigzagging deep into its mass. A rumble stormed through the creature, doubled back, then it exploded. Darkling chunks rained onto those below: Demons, Spaun, other Darkling, the UnHallowed, and destroyed the roof of the mansion, then sizzled and withered into fine ash.

Damn. Retreating to the mansion would’ve been their last resort when the sun rose. The Darklings would’ve had to flee, leaving only Spaun to deal with. That plan was shot to hell. Moonlight returned to the battlefield. Scarla was on her feet sandwiched between Chay and Kush. Her face was a bruised mess. Sophie wasn’t far from the trio. She tossed a box of salt into the air and fired three shots into it. Salt sprayed everywhere, killing about sixty Darklings. Dina fought next to Gideon and alongside Zed and Ioath. Gadreel fought alone, his punches sluggish. Daghony stood over Rimmon, who was passed out at the feet of the altar. The mist he’d created, gone.

And Bane. He was on his feet, leaning on the stone slab.

It should have been enough. They should have been enough to defeat their enemy. She looked out over the battlefield at a sea of Demons and knew it wasn’t enough, they weren’t enough. The battle was lost. They were all lost. Including the world, whether or not Taige opened the Cruor. That bastard wouldn’t be content ruling his little fiefdom, like Malphas. Taige would allow Darklings and Spaun and whatever else those things were to spread and devour until nothing was left.

But if she could kill Taige, cut the head off of the dog, leave them leaderless, maybe—just maybe—the army would die. And if not, give them enough time to get the hell out of here and recover.

Amaya found him in the middle of the pack directing traffic with the Cruor under his arm. The rim glinted in the weak moonlight while the red lightning-like tendrils trapped in the transparent interior seemed to dance. She tucked her wings and headed into a nosedive, killing everything that leapt into her path. Running interference for the boss wouldn’t save them.

“Amaya!”

Though weak, Bane’s voice cut through all the noise around her. She couldn’t stop, doing so would allow Taige to get away. Though the bastard wasn’t running. He waited for her, even tossed the Cruor to a Spaun and braced for impact.

She lead with her sword—which he expected—at the last second, she opened her wings, which yanked her into an abrupt stop. Pain raced up her spine. She tucked her wings and spun to deliver a roundhouse kick to his gut. He flew backward, but latched onto her ankle and took her with him. Pitched over his head, she tucked her limbs and wings. She rolled, skidded across the ground, shredding her pants and the top layer of skin from her knee to her thigh.

A punch to her temple knocked her sideways into some demon she’d yet to discover the name of. She freed her last two daggers from her vest and stab swiped, stab swiped. An arm banded around her neck and waist and yanked her backward into a solid chest, trapping her wings between them.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to take you. Take you from everything you love and everyone who loves you. I’m going to use you and bleed you dry when I’m done. But not for a while. I want you to suffer.” Taige’s grip tightened.

Air became short. She just had to reach for the vial tucked into her sock and jam it down his throat. Let the holy water kill him. She willed her wings away, giving her room to move, but his arms became a vise.

She raised her knee, grabbed the vial, and then kicked back. He grunted once. “Best you got?”

Not by a long shot. With both hands, she reached up and grabbed him by the back of his head. She dropped to one knee, doubled over, and yanked him over her shoulder. He went flying, literally. Black, featherless wings ripped through the back of his suit and he was airborne. He rose over the battlefield and Amaya was right behind him.

* * *

“I

’m out of ammo!” Sophie was out of everything—bullets, bombs, and salt.

“So am I.” Scarla had recovered enough to kick ass again.

Both were behind the UnHallowed, who were barely holding their own against a single Spaun and others closed in. They were losing. Three were down, the rest were struggling to protect their fallen brothers and themselves. A losing strategy.

If ever they needed divine help, now was the time. Sophie looked to the Heavens. The UnHallowed didn’t pray, said it did no good. Well, right now, prayer couldn’t hurt. “God, a little help! Please. Anything, anyone you care to send would be appreciated.”

“Save your energy! Heaven doesn’t care!” Scarla sliced and diced a demon with tentacles instead of legs.

Sophie was about to argue when an object caught her eye. It came from the tree tops, a single wavering form fighting the wind currents.

“See. What did I tell you? Heaven doesn’t care!” Scarla pointed at the creature.

Sophie couldn’t agree more. She asked for help and they sent a Reaper with the classic ghostly shroud and bleached white skull. It had wings the size of a DC-10. The scythe was missing, probably not for long. “How do we kill it?”

Scarla shook her head. “Nothing can kill a Reaper. Nothing.”

“There is one thing and we don’t have it.” Spaun blood and Darkling ash covered Gadreel. His leathers seemed intact. Good thing. One touch to his skin from any manmade weapon and he’d lose all control. He’d become another enemy they had to slay.

“But, Sam is their leader. He can control them,” Scarla said.

“He hasn’t been their leader since we fell. He has as much control over them as I do, which is none,” Daghony spat.

“So, we are truly fucked.” Scarla raised her blades, prepared for the coming battle.

“Get behind me.” Gadreel ordered the women.

Sophie took in the carnage around them and couldn’t disagree. If this was the end—she looked at Chay, fighting, not giving up.

“I’m going to take all the pain away. You’ll not remember any of it.”

“But I’m guilty. I deserve punishment. I have to remember. I owe him that much. I owe my brother that much.” She brought her hand up to plead. They were covered in crimson and she wasn’t concerned.

“Forgetting will help you heal.” Chay took her hands in his.

“Heal? How can I heal after what I’ve done? I don’t want to heal and I will never forget.”

Sophie snapped back to the present in time to see the scythe appear in the Reaper’s hand. The entire blade glowed with a blue light. The Reaper plummeted out of the sky and with one giant swing, killed everything between it and the UnHallowed.

It landed with a solid thud in front of Sam. The shroud vanished, revealing a man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in worn jeans and a faded plaid shirt. His weathered features captured Sophie’s attention. Eons seemed to be etched into his face, though she’d swear he was no older than forty. He fisted Sam’s shirt and yanked him to his feet.

“Friend or foe?” Sam muttered, his head lolling on his neck.

The Reaper’s gaze scanned the UnHallowed without expression. One eyebrow rose when his gaze landed on Scarla. Sophie’s insides practically froze when his gaze shifted to her. She’d never been colder or more afraid in her life. Staring into his eyes was like staring into Hell, yet she couldn’t look away. A fly caught in a web had a better chance of fleeing.

The Reaper broke their contact and his gaze returned to Sam. “Friend.”

“So you do have a loyal bone in your body.” Sam smirked, then coughed disgrace onto the Reaper’s shirt.

A grimace crossed his face, and he muttered, “Favorite shirt.” Then said to everyone, “Those who can fly, do so.”

“Wings are gone, bruh,” Riél groaned and dropped to his knees. “Cut them off our backs and burned them.”

“We’re not leaving anyone behind. So either stay and fight, or leave, Daeden.” Sam commanded.

Daeden shoved Sam away. Helpless, Sam plopped onto his ass. “One hundred years as a pacifist down the tubes,” Daeden mumbled and transformed back into a Reaper. He swept low over the battlefield and started killing. Waves of Darklings rose into the air to fight him.

But Sophie was lost in her memories, because regardless of what she said in that memory however long ago, she had forgotten everything.