“So, she’s eating now?” Razael asked, keeping his voice level, not betraying the urgency he felt like a pressure-main about to blow inside him.

“Yes, thanks to you.” But Laylah’s flick of concern before she schooled her expression betrayed her. Or rather, betrayed him.

This was his third time asking since he’d visited Eden the day before. “Good.” He quickly changed the subject. “And the latest casualty list?”

“Four.” Her grim look was appropriate to the toll. “Two to ambushes by the Winter Court, despite our best efforts to stay clear of those. One was outmatched by Elyon’s troops, and the other is simply missing.”

They were striding toward the front of his palace, passing several groupings of angelings in the hallways. The pungent aftermath of the latest orgy still hung in the air. He’d limited the duration of the sex-making—angeling stamina could last the entire night—but the appointed time had just lapsed, and some were still basking in the glow.

“Missing?” Razael had summoned his angelings to the balcony for a briefing, so when the stragglers from the orgy caught sight of him, they were quick to open an interdimensional door and travel to get there first. Two twisted away before he even reached them.

Laylah frowned. “There’s a rumor that Elyon took him.”

“What?” Razael stopped cold. They’d reached the ante-room just off the balcony, but this demanded his attention before he addressed the gathered, and weary, troops. “Elyon made an appearance on the streets of Seattle?” Given the light angelings patrolled that area—and that Seraphim Markos frequented the humans and their dimensional travel machine as well—this was alarming in the highest order. Once Light and Dark angels brawled directly—not just their angeling surrogates—the Warrior Angels could appear at any moment.

“Not confirmed,” Laylah said tightly. “Just a rumor. But Serifan is missing, and we’ve no account how.”

“My orders were to patrol in pairs,” Razael grumbled, but his thoughts had already jumped to Eden, Ren, and the babies. If Elyon were escalating things on the streets… if the Warrior Angels came… how would Razael protect them?

“Serifan’s partner was taken by Elyon’s angelings,” Laylah said. “Serifan escaped, but it’s possible he went after her.”

“That would be foolish.”

“It’s also possible he just went out alone and got caught.” She frowned. “We’re short on troops, my lord.”

Razael briefly closed his eyes. Wishing for the bliss of his cloud state—or simply to visit Eden and bask in her Virtues—was the height of irresponsibility. Yet he still felt the tug. When he opened his eyes, Laylah’s face was tormented with concern.

“My lord, is everything—”

“It’s fine, Laylah.” He sighed. “All of this is simply delay. We cannot win a war of attrition with Elyon. We have to make contact once again with his son, Micah. We have his True Love and his child. He must know they will not be safe if his father erodes our forces too far.”

“Do we know if he even lives? Asa said Micah’s wounds were substantial.”

“I trust Asa with his blade. Micah lives as long as Elyon does not suspect him.” Razael shook his head. “Even if Micah could orchestrate a trap for his father, I cannot confine Elyon alone.”

Laylah’s eyes went wide. “Confine, my lord?”

“To the Dominion of Darkness.”

Her expression fell blank with surprise.

“It is the only way I think he can be contained.”

“But the Warrior Angels—”

“Are not the only ones with the power of banishment,” he said. “They merely possess the power to join together and send an archangel to the Dominion. It should be possible for us to do the same for a Seraphim like Elyon. But I will need at least three other Seraphim to make it happen. And it is not without risk. Of course, the Light angels cannot help—that will bring the Warriors upon us."

Laylah nodded. “Even with shadow angels, if you join together to bind Elyon…”

“Then his allies might return the favor.” Razael had been thinking this through—when his thoughts weren’t desperately distracted by the song of Eden echoing in his mind. “I can make contact with the other dark angels, but other than Zuriel, who helped Asa infiltrate Elyon’s ranks, I’m unclear where their sympathies lie. Micah can help identify those dark angels who might be swayed if they knew Elyon could be removed as a threat. Surely some of them only cooperate because they fear they have no choice. And if Elyon is venturing onto the streets of Seattle, perhaps that can work for us.”

Laylah was nodding now. “We could use the woman carrying his child as bait—”

“No.” It was sudden and angelsong loud, and Laylah cringed under it. He quickly pulled back. “We may be shadow, Laylah, but we will not sacrifice humans in this war.” Particularly not that human, but he kept that confined to his own thoughts.

“No, of course not.” But she was examining him.

“Do not search my soul, angeling,” he chided, trying to erase her concern about his outburst. “You will not find what you expect there.”

She dropped her gaze, looking abashed. “Sorry, my lord, I just…” She was searching the floor for words now.

“Speak your mind.” Angelings have the sight—a gift from their angel side, the ability to see the state of one’s soul—but that power was weaker than any angel’s gift of perception. He could see the troubled nature of her mind like rumbling storm clouds over the shining light of her Virtues. He could sense the heartbreak she still held for Asa. Even her frustrated sexual needs were a roiling beacon before him, as she’d forsaken the orgies hoping to win Asa’s affection. Even in his absence, she avoided them, preferring the righteous joy of battle.

For her part, Laylah could see only the broad strokes of his broken soul.

She hesitated, then peered up at him. “I see how you look at her, my lord.”

“Is she not beautiful to look upon?” He meant her soul, although her face was angeling-beautiful as well.

Laylah grimaced and dropped her gaze again.

Razael sighed. He had confided in her about his Fall—that was a burden he should not have placed upon her. It was surely what was weighing on her mind—that he’d been affected by Eden and her glorious presence. That he was once again mourning the woman he’d loved and lost in his Fall. And those things were Truth. There was no sense in denying it.

“I find her beauty breathtaking,” Razael said softly.

Laylah’s head whipped up, eyes wide. “Because of her Virtues?”

“I can see her in a way you cannot, Laylah. Surely you know this.”

She nodded.

“That part of you which is drawn to humans,” he explained gently. “It is your angel side. But you’re only half angel.”

“Less, actually,” Laylah said. “My father was an angeling, not a pure angel.”

He smiled. “That matters less than you think. But you must understand—the allure you feel is a fraction of the pull a human has for a full Seraphim. I’ve warned the entire Regiment away from the women, but I am the one they sing to most strongly.” And Eden more so than the other—Ren—simply because she shone all the brighter.

“Do you have Love of her, my lord?” Laylah was breathless with this idea. “Perhaps if you—”

“No.” He didn’t even want to hear the words spoken aloud.

She fell silent, chastened.

“There is no Redemption for me, Laylah.” His voice was harsher than he intended, so he tried to soften it. “For my angelings, perhaps, but not for a Seraphim in shadow. This does not mean I am not tempted by her—in Truth, she haunts my thoughts constantly. It is difficult to endure being across the palace from her, and even more difficult when I’m in her presence. But that means nothing for this war… except that she will not be part of it. Am I understood?”

Laylah’s expression was filled with concern, but she simply said, “Yes, of course.”

“Then enough of my Sins and Temptations. We need a plan for—” But a pulse from the balcony just outside the ante-room cut him off.

Through the open door, a dark angel appeared, floating.

Instinct had him surging through the doorway, out onto the balcony, ready to do battle to defend his Regiment before it fully registered who the angel was.

Zuriel.

He stopped himself just before blasting her with the full force of his angel power. “What in the name of magic—”

But then several more pops of air brought a host of angelings on her heels.

“Do not harm them!” Zuriel blasted out in angelsong.

But she need not worry—her angelings were barely fit to fly. They stumbled and tumbled through the air, landing on Razael’s balcony. His gathered angelings took flight, drawing their blades but holding back. Zuriel’s Regiment was bleeding and broken—more appeared, but then the surge stopped, and only two dozen stood, knelt, or lay on the black crystal floor.

“What happened?” Razael demanded, but he feared he knew the answer before she spoke.

“Elyon.” Zuriel landed lightly in front of him and approached. She wore a black toga of crystal and smoke, and the inky tendrils of her hair floated behind her. “He struck without warning, slaying half my Regiment before I could strike back.” She bared her teeth and hissed her anger. “This is on your head, Razael. All the shadow realm is on fire with word that you stole Elyon’s prized breeder.”

Razael’s Wrath surged and enveloped him like a stifling blanket. “You know what he does to them.” He had warned her to be vigilant—Asa knew this could blow back on her.

“I know you’ve brought war to my doorstep.” The fury was cold on her face.

“We must ally against him.”

“Give my angelings refuge, and I’ll consider whether we can be allies or not.” She held her head high, daring him with her eyes. They were evenly matched in power, but she was in his Regiment with the tattered remains of hers. It was a false boast—Pride flushed strong in her, and he half admired it—but in Truth, she was asking for safe harbor.

“Your angelings will be treated as my own.” He tipped his head to her then gave a nod to Laylah. She hurried to order the others to get the injured angelings to chambers where they might rest and recover and receive a life kiss if necessary for their wounds. But his flock was already tending to the injured, having sheathed their blades when it was obvious the threat had passed. “Zuriel, if it would please you, we can discuss this in my chambers.”

She arched an eyebrow, but when he twisted away and reappeared in his own chambers, she was only a half-beat behind him. The rooms were spare—just a place for him to relax into vapor form without being observed—but she eyed it just the same.

“I’ve been thinking of how we can trap him,” Razael said. Zuriel would be his first ally in this, but they would need at least two others. Perhaps she would know which of the dark angels were wavering in their support of Elyon.

“Have you?” She finished her survey of his meager chamber and turned to face him. The piercing stare she gave him was a long and thorough soul-read—which he supposed was fair. He took her measure in return. She was Lust-Fallen, just like him, but the Fall had not broken her in the same way. Or perhaps the edges were just worn off—like Elyon, the Sin had baked into her for millennia.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “You are still so very young, Razael.” She stepped closer, her shadow mist dress shifting vapor around her.

“I’m as old as you are, Zuriel.” They were both formed at the beginning, before the War in Heaven. But he knew what she meant.

She smirked then stepped even closer. They were only a hand’s width apart, both in their oversized human forms. “I mean you’re young in shadow.” Her smirk grew. “With all those shining Virtues, I think you’ve not been quite taking advantage of the amenities here.”

“A hundred years is time enough to partake of what I wish in this realm.” In Truth, he avoided contamination from the realm of Sin in which he lived as much as possible.

“I see.” Then she scrutinized him further, and he was afraid she might actually see.

“If you ally with me,” he pressed, hoping to move on, “and we can bring in two others, we can contain him.”

“Contain him how?” The smirk was replaced with a frown.

“Send him to Lucifer’s Dominion.”

She leaned back then scowled at him. “And risk the others turning on us?”

“There is that risk.” At her blank surprise, he hastily added, “We will all be condemned if he is not contained. You know this, Zuriel. We need only convert two more to the cause. The others should stand down once he’s removed.”

She scowled. “Yes… if they were sane.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Young one, you do not know what it is to be eternally in shadow. The Sin eats at them, destroying their faculties while they thrust about, searching for power and more Sin.”

“You are sane,” he pointed out, hoping that was actually true.

She smirked. “Because I have spent millennia exploring the pleasures of Sin in moderation. Temperance was always my Virtue… and Chastity decidedly not.” She ran a look along the length of his body. “Perhaps we can be allies. It’s been a while since I trusted an angel enough to fuck him.”

Fuck… what? He frowned. “Are your angelings insufficient to slake your Lust?”

She arched an eyebrow but came closer still. Close enough to touch. “My Regiment has been nearly wiped out. A little alliance-making pleasure will take the edge off that loss.”

His frown was quickly turning into a scowl. Was this the depravity in which dark angels indulged? In Truth, he had spent little time in the company of other angels—in shadow or Light—since his Fall, relying on his angelings for the limited companionship they could provide. And in the Light, there was never a question whether angels would fuck one another. But in the shadow realm… all things were possible.

Zuriel obviously thought so.

But even in shadow, angels were oriented toward humanity. What he explained to Laylah about the impossible allure of human souls for an angel was Truth. So what was Zuriel playing at?

“Do you truly find my sadly broken soul so alluring?” he asked. As he peered deeper, there was a core of Virtue at the far reaches of Zuriel’s soul. He suspected she had been radiant once, but millennia after millennia of Sin had slowly eaten it away.

“Actually… yes. You’re practically a Light angel if you ignore that gaping chasm of heartache and loss.” She leaned closer. The hem of her misty dress brushed against his leg. “And I’m certain I will be your first angel lover. There are pleasures of which you’ve only dreamed right in front of you, Razael.”

He fought the urge to lean away. “I do not dream of pleasure.” And until very recently, that was Truth. But now, his thoughts were filled with the allure of Eden. And while he might hide that plain fact from Laylah, there was no such possibility with Zuriel.

“You dream of fucking humans.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And Elyon’s prize, in particular.”

He was sure his burning interest in her was easy to see, just as he could see Laylah’s still unrequited longing for Asa. “This is not Envy, Zuriel. It is purely Lust.” Even that felt a lie.

“Is it now?” Her gaze grew even sharper. “Perhaps I should have a taste of these humans as well.”

His Wrath surged again, and only his great need to have Zuriel as an ally kept it contained. “I would not recommend that.”

“Ah…” Zuriel’s smirk grew wide. “Jealousy burns hot in you, my friend. Well…” She stepped back and lifted her chin for a small challenge. “I shall have to satisfy my whims with a few of your strapping angelings instead.”

He supposed for any other angel that might be a problem—Elyon’s Regiment was as much a harem as a fighting core. Zuriel’s was likely the same, only now, most of hers had been slain. In Truth, Razael’s angelings would probably welcome her attentions—they had long complained that he did not join in the orgies, depriving them of that divine orgasm that visited any union between angel and angeling.

Or human. Lust surged hot in him, envisioning that union with Eden and the rapture it would bring her. And him. Not that he deserved any such pleasure.

“Oh my,” pouted Zuriel. She trailed a finger across his chest and dropped her gaze to below his waist. “If only that were for me.”

Somehow, he had manifested a towering erection. Still hot with desire, he willed that away. He would have to be careful not to display such obviousness when he next saw Eden. She was traumatized enough, and he had only just gained a small measure of her trust.

Zuriel smirked. “Let me refresh myself with your angelings, then we’ll make our alliance formal… and discuss your nefarious plans to take down Elyon. You are likely doomed, Razael, but the ride will be fun.” Then she twisted and disappeared from his chambers.

His plans would have to wait until Zuriel had her fill—and he hoped that wouldn’t take long. In the meantime… could he risk a visit to check on Eden? Was he in control of himself enough for that? When he pictured seeing her again, she rose up to greet him, all flushed cheeks and radiant soul. In reality, he would keep his distance… but in the conjuring in his mind’s eye, he would magic away her clothes and begin a slow worship of her body, covering every inch, one small, prayerful kiss at a time. It would quiver and quake under his touch, and his manifestation as man would shake with pleasure. His Lust was a firebrand across his loins, and when he looked down, his desire stood tall under his toga again. It had been so long since he’d indulged, but he couldn’t visit her in this state.

He took his cock in his hand—in his mind, it was Eden’s body, wrapped around him, riding him hard…

It was a long time before he was spent enough to stop.