“When you talk about the Boss, you’re talking about... Satan?” I asked, shivering when I said the name out loud. No one who knew beyond a doubt that Satan was real spoke the name.

His lips quirked. “The one and only, but if Lucifer ever heard you use the name he was given after being kicked out of Heaven, he’d turned your insides out.”

“But...he’s an angel.” Confusion swamped me. “Or was. Whatever. How can he change what he appears as?”

“What damned Lucifer in Heaven is what powers him in Hell,” he answered. “Pride.”

“Pride?”

“Yep. He’s basically The Little Engine That Could.”

Now the image that statement provided was something I could never unthink.

“The Boss operates purely on the mantra of ‘if I think I can, I will.’” His lips pursed. “He’s like the first motivational speaker, if you really think about it. Well, the first scammy one, but aren’t they all?”

“Uh...”

“Anyway, I digress. The texts got a few things wrong. For starters, Lucifer is still an angel, which leads to another thing that’s usually incorrect. Questionable timelines. He was the first to be cast from Heaven, and since God had no experience when it came to booting angels off their lofty clouds of self-righteousness, he didn’t strip Lucifer’s wings. He still has his grace, and it’s just as dark and twisted as you can imagine.”

I really didn’t want to.

“Of course, God learned after that. The rest who fell lost their wings and their grace.”

Those fallen angels might have lost their grace, but based on what I’d learned about them, they made demons, even ones like Roth, look like fluffy puppies.

He slid me an amused glance. “Good thing the Wardens wiped out the Fallen eons ago, eh?”

“Yeah.” I had no idea how we’d gotten on this topic. Something about God being ironic?

Roth chuckled as if he knew something I didn’t. “Will you do me a favor, Angel Face?”

“Does it involve breaking your nose when you call me that?” I asked sweetly.

“No. Even better.”

“Considering what I just did, not sure I want to do you any more favors.”

“This is nothing like that. I want you to ask Zayne what happened to the Fallen.” Roth lifted a shoulder. “Or ask one of the Wardens that raised you. I can’t wait to hear what they say.”

I knew what had happened to the angels that had fallen. The Wardens killed them. Hell, it was why Wardens were created in the first place, because no mortal could fight a Fallen. Duh.

“Anyway, you ending up with shit eyesight sounds like some kind of messed-up thing Lucifer and God agreed to.”

I blinked at the swift switch back to the topic. “They...they still, um, talk?”

“You have no idea.”

My mouth opened. Then closed. My brain was starting to hurt.

“Why don’t you just use your grace? Whether you see well or not, anything that gets near you won’t survive that.” I was having a Hell of a time following this conversation. “Why stress yourself out or put yourself in danger by trying to compensate for your eyes in a different way?”

That was a good question, but answering it might reveal too much. Roth was the damn Crown Prince of Hell, but I...

God.

I actually trusted him, which probably meant there was something drastically wrong with my abilities to make reasonable life choices.

But Zayne trusted him as well.

Well, that might change if Zayne found out about today. Which was never, ever going to happen.

“Using my grace can tire me out.” It then struck me that I wasn’t tired. I touched my nose, finding it dry. It hadn’t bled. Shock flickered through me. Was it because I’d used the grace only briefly? Or because I was bonded to the one I was meant to be bonded to?

That was a possibly interesting development—an amazing one, if that was the case.

“But you can still wield it when necessary, when your eyes are failing you, without any real harm coming to you. Right?” he asked. “It’s not like you pass out in the middle of a battle.”

“It makes me weak, but I can power through it if need be.” But now I wasn’t sure if that was the case, since I felt no effects from using it earlier.

“Then perhaps there’s a different reason you don’t use it.”

My gaze sharpened on him. “What do you mean?”

“You were raised by Wardens?”

“And my mom,” I said. “Before she died.”

“But you were raised with their beliefs and opinions, their thoughts and persuasions,” he explained. “If I’ve learned anything from Layla, it’s that Wardens are strong proponents of guiding those not like them to fight their natural instincts. They’re good at convincing others that not using their natural abilities is what’s best for them.”

I had no idea what to say to that because Thierry, Matthew and even my mom had urged me to call upon the grace only when all else failed, so much so that resisting its call had become inherent. But they’d had a good reason. Besides the fact that it left me weak, it revealed what I was. Using my grace was always a risk, but...

“We’re here,” Roth announced.

Startled, I pulled my gaze from him and looked out the window. I saw a brown sign I couldn’t read and a whole lot of trees surrounding a wide path.

“Where are we?”

“Rock Creek Park. It’s sort of connected to the zoo. Lots of trails. It’s where I go when I...need a place to go.”

I had a hard time picturing Roth strolling through a park, but it was the perfect choice. The trees provided shade, and while there were people out jogging and walking dogs, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as the sidewalks and streets.

I wondered if Roth had chosen it for that reason. “Thanks,” I said, reaching for the car door. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“You will.”

Nodding, I opened the door and stepped out into the sticky air.

“Angel Face?”

Sighing, I turned and bent down so that I could see into the car. “What, Demon Spawn from Hell?”

His lips quirked into a grin. “Just so you know, what I felt for Layla and what she felt for me was forbidden. That didn’t stop us.”

The unwanted spark in my chest felt a lot like hope. That burst of wanting was overshadowed by annoyance, because we were now back on the topic of Zayne. “Good to know. Happy for you both, but nothing like that is going on between Zayne and I.”

“I almost believe that,” he replied. “Both parts of your statement.”

I threw up my hands. “Why are you all up in my nonexistent love life, Roth?”

“Because I saw the way he looked at you, and I know the way he used to look at Layla. It was different.”

My brows snapped together. “Well, I’m not sure how that’s a good thing.”

“Different is not bad, Trinity. Different can be good.”

“Or it can mean nothing, like it does in this case.” I started to rise.

“Hey,” he called out again.

“What?” I snapped.

The demon prince smiled at me, seeming unperturbed by my annoyance. “What you did today needed to be done. Don’t waste air on guilt. It would not have been wasted on you.”

The door slid from my grasp, closing in my face before I could even respond. I straightened and stepped back as Roth peeled away from the curb.

Roth’s words cycled over and over as I stood along the side of the busy road for several minutes. He was right about the last part. Faye wouldn’t have spent a second feeling guilty if I’d been given to her in pieces.

Slowly, I turned and walked into the park. It was cooler here under the thick canopy of trees. Still humid and damp, but bearable as I mindlessly followed the path. After all the walking I’d done in the evenings patrolling for the Harbinger, making use of my leg muscles wasn’t exactly on my to-do list, but this was...

It was nice, and it was calming.

Accompanied by the distant hum of conversation and the trill of cicadas, I sank into my thoughts. Not about Zayne. I didn’t have the brain capacity to deal with anything Roth had just shared about him. Not when I’d just straight up killed someone.

Someone who was only mostly human and who had wanted—actually, needed—me dead. Who wouldn’t have mourned me. Who would’ve used my death for nefarious ends.

Still...someone I had killed.

I didn’t want to go back to the apartment. I didn’t want to be...trapped there with these thoughts. I needed to file them away before I faced Zayne.

I walked and walked, passing stunning waterways, ancient rock scrambles and even a rustic log cabin that looked one windstorm away from crumbling. I crossed a boulder bridge, awestruck by the fact that the thing was still standing, and as I walked, I replayed what I’d done.

Part of me couldn’t believe that I hadn’t found a different way. Another part of me knew I should’ve kept my cool and not given in to the anger that had led me to showing the witch what I was. The moment I’d done that, there was no going back. And I acknowledged that that wasn’t the first time I’d killed something other than a demon.

There’d been Ryker, then Clay.

And there’d been Misha.

All of them had been acts of self-defense, but although Faye had attacked me, I’d been able to restrain her. She’d been no real threat to my safety. Plus, I’d goaded her and then some, and...if I was being honest with myself, serving retribution had felt good.

Coming to a bench, I sat down heavily and lifted my gaze to the trees. This place reminded me of the Community, where I’d grown up. The air smelled fresher here. I sat back, realizing I didn’t feel any demons nearby.

Guess they didn’t like parks.

I stared at a sign across from me, having no idea what landmark it announced, and all I could think was that, when Faye had screamed, I hadn’t flinched, and when I’d ended her life, I hadn’t felt anything other than righteous retribution.