Everything that Michael had said about my archangel power destroying my body once I ascended came crashing down on me. I’d held on to the hope that maybe I wouldn’t have to ascend and if I did, that the angels would be wrong. That I could make it out of this and still destroy my enemies without destroying myself to do it. But now I understood that I had to die one last time to end this war.

  “Then we won’t do it,” Will said with a hard finality in his tone. “We’ll defeat Sammael without Ellie ascending and using the glaive.”

  “Will,” I said, feeling a strange but settled peacefulness in me. I felt cloudy and lightheaded, detached. “It’s okay. I’ve prepared myself to be ready for anything. I’m okay with this.”

  “But I’m not,” he told me. “Remember what Michael said: if you die an angel, then you might not come back.”

  “So many lives will be saved if I do this,” I said. “It’s the only way I can destroy Sammael and Lilith and—”

  “No,” he said firmly, and his sword hand clenched. When he spoke again, his voice was tender. “No.”

  For a moment, it felt like there was only him and me in the room. Everyone else had melted away. Will’s eyes fluttered shut, tightening with regret before he forced himself to meet my gaze again. He reached for me, his skin warm as his hands brushed my cheeks, and he sucked in his lip and shook his head very slightly.

  “No,” he said again.

  “We’ll be all right,” I told him.

  “There’s always another way.”

  “This time there isn’t,” I said.

  His eyes zipped back and forth between mine, his mouth open in shock. “How are you so calm?”

  “I believe I always knew it would come to this.”

  “You aren’t meant to die,” he said. “You always come back. You can’t be gone forever.”

  My heart was breaking, not for me, but for him. “I’m sorry that I have to do this.”

  “Ellie.” He whispered my name, making me lose any determination I had to stand against him. “This is why I wasn’t supposed to love you. Because I won’t let you do what you have to. It’s easy to do my duty when I have nothing to lose, but now I have everything to lose. I’ll lose you.”

  I had a million things to say to him, but the words wouldn’t string themselves together in my head enough to form anything coherent. All I knew and understood was that I had to stay strong. Sometimes, after people had accepted that they would die, they became self-destructive, as if it didn’t matter if they wasted what time they had left. That wouldn’t be me. If I would die, then I would make it count.

  After an agonizing eternity, Will touched my hair in that familiar way of his, holding the lock in his fingers. “I don’t have it in me to let you go.”

  I bit my lip to keep it from trembling as I watched the agony slowly dull the inimitable green of his eyes. “We must do whatever it takes to protect Earth and Heaven. It’s okay.”

  He said nothing, only shook his head again.

  “Gabriel,” Azrael called. “What will it be?”

  I looked up at the angel and swallowed my fear. “I’ll do it.”

  25

  AFTER AZRAEL’S DEPARTURE, EVERYONE GATHERED to discuss our next move and where the last Naphil might be hidden. Everyone except for Will and me. Will was thinking, calculating. Already he was resolute in figuring out how to beat the Fallen in a way that didn’t involve me ripping out hearts and growing wings. Azrael’s news was hard for both of us and I couldn’t stand Will’s silence.

  I slipped away without telling anyone and retreated to Madeleine’s quarters, but it wasn’t long before Cadan found me. I welcomed his presence when he sat beside me, put an arm around my shoulders, and let me lean into him.

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said, his voice low and soft. “I just thought you needed some company.”

  I took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly, but the tension wouldn’t leave me. “I’m not really sure what I need right now.”

  “Everything will be okay,” he promised. “Things happen the way they’re supposed to happen. If you become an archangel again, then you were always meant to. For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a pretty badass angel.”

  “You don’t know what they’re—what we’re—like,” I said. “Azrael, Michael, me—Gabriel, that is—we’re made of ice. We can’t feel anything. I don’t want to be like that.”

  He paused for a thoughtful moment. “I know you and you won’t stop feeling. You have a soul. Probably the best one I’ve ever known.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at him. “You’re always so positive.”

  “I know you’re scared,” Cadan said. “And I know you’re sad. It’s okay to be both.”

  He and Will were half brothers, but they were so different. Cadan had somehow become this pillar of strength and support for me, the way Will was, but he always knew the right thing to say. The way Will expressed his feelings and dealt with things that troubled him was so much more physical. He was more quiet, but when he did open up to me, it was beautiful. Cadan had this uncanny intuition that made him an incredible friend.

  “He’s going to close himself up now,” I said, remembering how Will had mourned Nathaniel in his own way. I didn’t want him to mourn me already.

  Cadan seemed to understand who I meant. “If he does, it’s not because he doesn’t care.”

  “I know.” I sighed.

  “He won’t give up searching for a way around your ascension,” he continued thoughtfully. “He reminds me a little of Bastian in that way. They both have this relentless determination and are very thorough in everything they do.”

  He was right, I realized, but I’d never say that to Will. It would only make things a thousand times worse. Will would likely never fully accept that Bastian was his father, and he would certainly never take well to being compared to Bastian. Will was good and sweet and kind, but I’d seen his temper. His relentless determination also included kicking ass. And when Will kicked ass, he was very thorough. He kicked every last inch of it.

  “I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Cadan said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “No, I’m not upset,” I told him. “I was just thinking what a terrible idea it would be to tell Will what you just told me.”

  “I have no plans to repeat that to him. Ever. And if you tell him what I said, before he kills me I’ll tell everyone how you snore.”

  “I don’t snore!” I laughed. “Will would know if I snored.”

  The air immediately grew thick with tension. I knew how Cadan felt about me, and what I just said was like rubbing Will and me right in his face. Why did I never stop to think before I opened my huge mouth? Cadan had sacrificed so much to help me and it had to be unbearably challenging for him to be around us all the time.

  “He’s too polite to say anything,” Cadan said to break the awkwardness between us, but his voice was small and fragile.

  I went along with it, trying to sound as if nothing had just happened. “My friend Kate isn’t, though, and after the million slumber parties we’ve had, she definitely would’ve told me—and kicked me awake to shut me up.”

  “I’d have done the same,” he said with a grin.

  I narrowed my gaze playfully at him. “So you’re admitting that you just lied. Slander’s illegal, you know.”

  He scoffed and messed up my hair with his hand. “I’m a reaper. I live above the law. Human law, anyway.”

  The door opened and Madeleine appeared, her green eyes fixed with interest on Cadan and me. Cadan took his arm back from around my shoulder slowly, almost cautiously. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said in a low, slow tone.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I came up here.” As awkward as I felt, she still scared the hell out of me. This was Will’s mother. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to it.

  “Of course not, Ellie,” Madeleine said. “Everyone needs to retreat sometime
s.”

  Cadan stood and the space next to me felt cold suddenly. “I’d better get back and make myself useful.” He gave me a reassuring look, but mine in return was pleading and desperate for him to stay. His mouth tightened apologetically. It was clear he was just as scared of Madeleine as I was, but for different reasons.

  As he left the room, Madeleine sat down next to me. Being alone with Will’s mother before I really knew anything about her was really quite terrifying. I’d always considered myself a sociable, chatty person, but that all flew out the window with Madeleine, who was obviously one of the biggest badasses on the planet. For five hundred years, she’d been the guardian of the relic I’d made to be so powerful it could summon any demon. I’d seen only a glimpse of her prowess in battle, but it was enough to know I’d want to have her on my side in any fight.

  This was Will’s mother. Those two words kept spinning over and over in my head. She was impossibly beautiful. Her green-fire eyes and sweeping dark hair were the same as Will’s, and she was also nearly as tall as he was. Though her body was lithe, she had strength and a groundedness in her curves that showed how unbreakable she was.

  “I have a glaive-like weapon,” she said, her lilting English accent breaking the harsh silence between us, “if you would like to train with one before you accept Azrael’s blade.”

  “That would be excellent,” I replied with a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “I could help you learn to use it.”

  I nodded. “I’m so used to using two small swords that this will be a big change. I can manage if I have help.”

  “Of course,” Madeleine said. “And I apologize if I chased Cadan away. He left in quite a hurry.”

  I offered her a sympathetic look. “If you’re worried that he’s avoiding you, I think that he’s still in a bit of a shock.”

  “We both are,” she agreed. “He and I will be able to work things out on our own time. I wondered if I’d run in to him or Bastian again eventually, but to be honest, I’m much more shocked to have seen him with you and Will. That was a curious sight.”

  “Oh,” I said. “You want to know how we became friends?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  I sat there, looking back, and the image of seeing Cadan’s face for the first time at that Halloween party flashed in my mind—after Will had punched the Phantom of the opera mask off, that is. “There isn’t much to it, I guess. He offered to help me. It took a while for me to trust him, but I’m glad I did. He’s saved my life many times now. He’s earned my trust.”

  “And Will trusts him as well?”

  “It took a lot longer for Will to come around,” I said honestly. I told her about Cadan risking his life to keep me informed of Bastian’s plans and saving me from Ivar. I talked about his kindness and comforting me when I was at my lowest. I told her the story of what happened the night Sammael was awakened, about Cadan protecting us from Bastian and then killing him. I even told Madeleine about Cadan taking me to the Rocky Mountains to retrieve the root that cured Will from Antares. She listened in silence, and I caught the ghost of a smile on her face when I had finished my story. “I don’t know what he was like when you knew him, but the Cadan I know now is a wonderful, good person and he means a lot to me.”

  “I’m proud of him,” Madeleine said. “Cadan was much younger when I knew him, and he was desperate for his father’s approval. Beneath it all, he was good…and he was even my friend. He was there for me when Bastian was at his worst. I know Cadan only did the things he did to please his father, and his sins still seem to haunt him.”

  I knew that it had been Cadan, along with Ivar, who abducted Will to let Bastian torture him in the days leading up to my death by Ragnuk’s teeth. That Cadan, I believed, was behind him—all of us—now. “What sorts of things?” I asked.

  “He killed.” Her answer was simple, straight to the point. “But no more than you or I, and it’s unfair to hold that against him. The demonic and angelic are at war. At least he left the humans alone. I never knew him to hunt mortals. He’d tell Bastian of the souls he’d reaped, and Bastian was arrogant enough to believe that his subordinates feared him too greatly to lie to him. I, on the other hand, know a liar when I see one.”

  Madeleine was reasonable in her assessment of Cadan’s actions. For as long as I’d known Will, he’d always been so firm in his belief that the ways of the world were black and white, that good and evil were clearly defined. I supposed that the hard centuries of being my Guardian had made him that way. Madeleine seemed to recognize the shades of gray that I sought and believed existed. This realization made me a less afraid of her.

  “I’m glad that Will grew up away from Bastian,” I told her, grateful. “I think you did the right thing.”

  “I wasn’t even sure Bastian would let the baby live,” she confessed. “Word of our relationship had already begun to spread, as had the rumor that he was half angelic himself. He was building his army then, making a name for himself among the most elite of the demonic. He couldn’t afford to have anything mark his reputation—especially siring an angelic child. Those last few weeks made it easy to leave him. He had his moments and I still believe he loved me, but he was cruel at the core.”

  I studied her, surprised at what I saw in her expression. “You seem like a part of you regrets leaving him, even today.”

  She smiled at me, a terrible, sorrowful smile. “When you love someone so fiercely, they leave a mark on your soul that never goes away, no matter how much you dig and rip at it. He left a mark on my soul. At least the ones he left on my skin faded with time.”

  I had no response. I imagined that her relationship with Bastian hadn’t been the healthiest, but knowing he’d physically harmed her made me grind my teeth together. No relationship was perfect all the time, and even Will and I could be rude to each other when stress levels were high, but violence was unforgiveable.

  Madeleine squeezed my hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. There are countless things left unsaid about my time with Bastian. I’ve kept so much bottled up.”

  “I wouldn’t unbottle any of that around Will,” I warned her. “He might find a way to bring Bastian back to life just so he can kill him again. He might do this a few times, actually.”

  “That part of William hasn’t changed then, I see,” she said. “May I ask about you and my son?”

  “I—no—of course you may. What…about?”

  Her gaze became soft and gentle. “He’s in love with you. And you love him just as much. I wondered at first, but tonight confirmed it.”

  I chewed my lip. “It’s a little obvious, isn’t it?”

  She gave me a brilliant, wide smile. “A little.”

  “He’s amazing,” I told her. “Really.”

  Her smile became a little sad. “You’ve known him longer than I have.”

  “I’m happy that you and Will can have a chance to get to know each other again. It’ll be good for both of you.”

  “He’s changed a lot,” she admitted.

  “We all have,” I said. “We’ve grown up.”

  “Strife will do that to you.” She watched me carefully, but her smile remained. “We’ll find a way for you to survive this. I’ll need your help getting to know him again.”

  I huffed a little laugh at that. “I haven’t given up hope. I’m going to do what I have to do—ascend and fight as an archangel—but I’ll never give up hope. I don’t want to die, but honestly, I’m so much more afraid of becoming some unthinking monster again.”

  “Again?” she asked. “I thought you couldn’t remember Heaven?”

  Azrael’s memories of me as Gabriel flashed in my head once more. There had been tears in my eyes. I must have felt something after massacring the Nephilim. If I couldn’t feel anything, then I would’ve shed tears for no one, especially not monsters. Remembering that I, as Gabriel, had spared one Naphil gave me hope for my archangel self, but then I remembered that I’d spared him only to har
vest his heart, and that didn’t sound like mercy. I hated to think about where he’d been held all these thousands of years. I didn’t want to kill this creature. I had accepted that I might have to sacrifice myself to win this war, but sacrificing others was wrong. Still, there was no other way for me to ascend without the Naphil heart. Perhaps we had done a good thing in destroying them all. Yet…if they were just horrible monsters, then why had I wept for them?

  “The other angels I’ve met have been like that,” I explained. “And I know that angels aren’t permitted to feel or to make their own choices. I don’t want to stop loving my friends and family or to kill without discretion as I used to. When I ascend, I’ll lose everything that makes me human.”

  “You’ll still have your soul.”

  “Will I?” I asked. “If I do, I still won’t know what exactly I’ll turn into as an angel with a soul. And then after I lose everything that I am, I’m supposed to lose my life as well. No one seems to be able to tell me anything that’s certain. I’m afraid of the unknown.”

  She smiled at me. “You’re too much of a force to lose yourself to anything. If you forget who you are, then we’ll help you remember. You’ve got incredible friends with you who believe in you and love you too much to let you lose who you are.”

  Madeleine was right. I had friends and family at home, and I’d brought friends—and family—with me on this journey. None of them would ever give up on me, no matter how many reasons I gave them to walk away. I had to do what I had to do, and they would follow me anywhere.

  “What do you say we head back to the others?” she asked, rising to her feet and holding out a hand to help me up. “Then I will give you a tour of the armory and we can play with swords.”

  I grinned and took her hand. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  26

  MADELEINE HAD TRANSFORMED AN OLD CLASSROOM in the castle into her own incredible armory. The walls of the room were lined with swords of all sizes and origins, polearm weapons topped with vicious-looking blades, and an assortment of battle-axes. There was even a tomahawk decorated with feathers, and an elegant parashu whose sweeping, curved blade was etched with images of Hindu deities. I strolled along the walls, examining and admiring the collection as if I was in a museum, but Will was like a kid in a candy store. I bit my lip to keep from laughing, watching him struggle to decide which weapon to pull off its display mount first. He retrieved a fine example of a Celt-Iberian falcata inlaid with gold, only to return it to its rack and bring down the saya scabbard containing an unusual Yari spear.