“She’s mine,” he hissed, squeezing so hard Wraith’s vision dimmed. “No more games. It’s time for you to die.”

Not yet, a**hole.

Wraith closed his hand around the hilt of a knife and swung. It plunged into the male’s neck, in the soft spot between his neck and shoulder. Blood spurted, and an unholy scream issued from the hellish depths of the demon’s body. He released Wraith, but the knife didn’t slow him down. His eyes glowed crimson, and shit, his entire body began to glow. And grow. And morph.

Fuck a motherfucking f**kduck. Byzamoth wasn’t your average spawn of hell. He was a fallen f**king angel. Time to haul ass.

Wraith charged to the door, just as Serena rushed over the threshold. “What’s happening?”

“Go!” he yelled. “Now!”

She dove back through the door, and he was right on her heels. An infuriated roar followed them, so powerful Wraith felt a blast of heat scorch his back. He grabbed his bags in one hand and Serena’s wrist in the other and sprinted down the street. Ahead, a man was getting into his car. Wraith shoved the guy out of the way, took his keys, and pushed Serena into the vehicle.

The guy cursed at Wraith in Arabic as Serena scrambled into the passenger seat. Wraith ignored him, leaped into the driver’s seat, and started the car.

In the rearview mirror, he saw the angel coming after them… looking like a massive gargoyle with big f**king teeth and giant-ass wings… scratch that: only one wing. He gunned the engine and peeled out of there, driving like a madman until they reached the train station.

“What was that thing?”

“Byzamoth. He’s a f**king fallen angel.”

“Holy shit.”

“Pretty much.”

“Did it… did he… kill the Regent?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, God.” She fingered her necklace as she twisted around to peer through the rear window. “Josh?”

“What?” Wraith screeched around a corner and slammed the car into a parking space.

“Why would Byzamoth have been there?”

“Because he knew you…” Oh, shit.

“Yeah. He knew I was going to the Regent’s place.”

They locked gazes, because he knew where this was headed. Only a few people in The Aegis would have known her plans. “You weren’t booked for this train, right? So no one knows we’ll be on it?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Only Val. I was supposed to be on tomorrow’s.”

Wraith shouldered the backpacks and got out of the car, but for some reason, he didn’t feel relieved.

Reaver’s blood ran freely from his wrists as he kneeled on Mount Megiddo—Har-megiddo, as he’d always known it. His blood was not the first to be spilled here, nor would it be the last. Battles had been fought at Megiddo since ancient times, and the valley below would, someday—maybe soon—become the gathering place for armies who would engage in the ultimate battle between good and evil

Night was falling, but the sky was already dark with roiling clouds. He’d stirred up the Heavens with his presence—and his request.

He waited, his blood forming twin rivers that snaked along the hard-baked soil and around jagged chunks of stone. Spots formed in front of his eyes and nausea swirled in his stomach. If no one appeared before him, he could die, and this was not the way he wanted to go.

Any fallen angel willingly drained of his blood would know eternal torment at Satan’s side. Worse, all hope for Reaver to return to Heaven would be lost.

“You dare to petition me?” The booming voice resonated through his head, ringing painfully in his ears.

Reaver didn’t look up at the owner of the voice, the angel Gethel. He was no longer allowed to view any who still Served. Instead, he kept his gaze on the ground that grew damp with his blood.

“I deemed this to be worthy of your attention,” he answered carefully.

“I will be the judge of that.”

“Of course.” A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he wondered if she’d let him bleed out. “The Sentinel, Serena, is in danger.”

“We are aware of that.”

“What is being done?”

“We cannot interfere.”

He knew there were restrictions on how much help angels could provide until the situation crossed out of the realm of human free will and into a true crisis of good and evil. But Serena needed help.

“I could go to her—”

Lightning flashed. Thunder ripped through Reaver’s brain, shattering his eardrums. Pain screamed through his head and his wrists, as the blood that had been streaming turned to ropes that secured him to the parched earth.

“You will not go near her.”

“Something must be done!” Reaver lifted his head. He was done begging and cowering like a whipped dog.

Gethel stood before him, larger than life, terrible and beautiful as the wind whipped her gray robes and blond hair around her. “You have done more than enough for Serena, Fallen.”

The reminder of what he’d done to cause his Fall became a crushing pressure in his chest. He’d committed a crime by breaking rules and interfering in the humans’ lives, and even though he’d done it to save Serena, arguing his point with Gethel would get him nowhere. Once more, he bowed his head. He closed his eyes, but the memories played on the backs of his eyelids like a movie in high def.

There were only two ways out of the charm—suicide and sex. Patrice had been a treasure hunter, much like Serena. And in her travels and hunts, she’d found an object of major historical and religious significance.

She had found the true Spear of Destiny, the Holy Lance of Longinus, used to stab Jesus after his death. Though humans had speculated on the lance’s powers for years, the truth, that it was capable of unspeakable evil in the hands of humans who would wield it for power, was something that must be kept secret until the Final Battle.

Patrice could have made herself rich and famous beyond belief, but she understood the power of the lance, and she returned it to its resting place, to be found again by one who would use it for the side of good in a time of need.

Her sacrifice had made her the perfect choice to be caretaker of the necklace, Heofon, after its previous keeper had killed himself two hundred years into his guardianship.

Patrice had worn Heofon with pride… until Serena was on her deathbed.

At that point, Patrice had begged whoever would listen to save Serena. When her prayers went unanswered, she’d pleaded for the charm to be transferred. It was something that had never before been done—wasn’t allowed to be done.

But Reaver had done it.

And he’d earned himself a boot out of Heaven’s door.

“I would do more for her if I could,” he said to Gethel.

“What you will do is think on your actions until I see fit to release you.”

With that, she was gone, and he was left staked out on the baking earth. He wouldn’t bleed out now, but if he was still here at high noon tomorrow, he’d be transported to Heaven, to face one final judgment.

And he would fail.

Seventeen

New York in the winter could be bone-chillingly cold, but the temperature didn’t bother Gem as she and Kynan walked to Eidolon and Tayla’s high-rise condo. Heck, nothing was bothering her now. Though she and Ky hadn’t been able to make it back to her apartment, she still felt a buzz of promise after the romantic hour they’d spent in the hospital.

Then E had gone and ruined everything by insisting that everyone meet at his place. Whatever he was worked up about sounded bad.

E answered the door. “Tay and Runa are in the living room with the babies. Shade and I are doing our best to not burn steaks in the kitchen.”

Kynan peeled out of his jacket, and Gem took a moment to admire how his black sweater molded to his toned body. “I’ve cooked steaks on Humvee engines before. I’ll help you out.”

“That’s not a ringing endorsement, man,” E said, but he cocked his head toward the kitchen. “Come on.”

Gem frowned. “You said we were meeting to talk.”

“Bad news always seems better on a full stomach,” E said and disappeared down the hall, Kynan on his heels.

Gem hurried to the living room, which looked like a Toys “” Us had exploded in it. Tay and Runa looked up from where they sat on the floor playing with the boys. It was impossible to tell any of them apart, except the newest addition, who was a little smaller than the others, pinker, and snuggled securely in Runa’s arms.

Shade and Runa were thrilled to have the infant, especially now that Wraith’s future was in question. Having a little piece of him seemed to be a comfort to everyone, and the little demon would be given all the love that Wraith had missed out on as a child.

God, Runa looked so happy, so content. Gem felt a tug in her abdomen.

Tayla patted the floor next to her. “Cop a squat and grab a kid.”

“There are more than enough to choose from.” Gem eyed the three babies lying on blankets, their little hands clutching soft, colorful toys.

Tay dug a bottle out of a diaper bag. “I don’t know how you do it, Runa. I’d go crazy with just one.”

Runa smiled down at the infant in her arms. “You’ll change your mind when you’re holding your own.”

“I doubt it,” Tay muttered. She and Eidolon wanted kids, but they were willing to wait. Like, thirty years, if Tayla had her way.

“So Wraith doesn’t know about the baby yet?”

“No.” Runa stroked the infant’s cheek. “He’s got so much to deal with right now. Even when things do calm down, it’s going to be hard to tell him. Shade’s afraid he’ll short-circuit or something, if he thinks he has to be responsible for an innocent life in some way.”

“He doesn’t. You’ll make sure he knows that, right?” Tayla scrounged around in the bag again and pulled out Mickey. The ferret chattered indignantly, stole a pacifier, and scampered under the couch.