“Eden…my dear,” he sighs. “Come. Let’s sit and talk for a bit. There is much to tell you.”

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  Reading my frown and the bewildered look in my eye, he casts a hand towards the small table and chairs.

  “Your angel’s compulsion won’t work on me,” he explains, taking a seat. “As you know, your new friend, Crysis, has very unique gifts. Gifts that I didn’t insist he share with us until now.”

  “Crysis?” I snort out a sardonic laugh, shaking my head, before plopping down in the chair across from him. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Oh, he didn’t want to. Honestly, I’m more than a little disappointed in him. He has proven to be disloyal to the Alliance, yet resourceful.” He fingers a pendant that dangles from his neck, and I feel the color drain from my face. It’s a vial filled with a dark red substance. Blood.

  “You killed him?” My voice is a thread of a whisper.

  “No. Heavens no. We would never. I’ve known Crysis nearly his entire life. He’s like a son to me.”

  “Yeah. And we both know how you treat your children.”

  My eyes are daggers dipped in poison. Even without the use of my powers, I can see the way my words affect him. How they twist in his gut, bleeding out his temper. He wants to slap me across the face and scold me for my insolence. But instead he…smiles. Like a fucking serial killer, my father smiles.

  “Eden, I don’t want this for you. I never wanted this for you. I had hoped to spare you of this life, long before Satan sank his hooks in you. I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to find a way to save your life.”

  “I don’t want to be saved,” I deadpan.

  “Not even for a second chance with your mother? The chance to meet a good man who can love you? Marry you? Grow old with you?”

  I didn’t want those things, because I never knew they existed. But now that he’s uttered them into the universe, I can’t help but acknowledge the gaping hole in my chest where hope once lived.

  The last time I saw my mother, she told me she wished I had never been born. She said that she wished she had sliced my throat instead of my arm when she tried to cut me from her womb with a kitchen knife. She said I was the cause of every awful thing that had ever happened to her, and she would never forgive me for as long as she lived.

  Then she looked up at me with glassy eyes and asked, “Who are you?”

  I never went back to the hospital after that.

  “There are no second chances,” I state, mindlessly raking my fingernails over the table, scarred with age and use.

  “There are always second chances with Christ, Eden,” Rev declares, smiling softly. “Everything you’ve done, all the hatred and anger you feel can be washed away. You can be made anew, just the way God intended. It’s not too late. You can live the life you were always meant to have. You can go to college, pursue your dreams. You can travel the world and walk the streets without having to look over your shoulder. And we—you and I—we can finally get to know each other.” He reaches across the table and lays a soft, warm hand atop mine. Tears shine in his tender gaze. “I can be there for you like I was supposed to. And this time, I won’t fail you, sweetheart.”

  I look into eyes identical to mine for a long beat before pulling my hand away. “It’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late, Eden,” he urges. “You’re still young. You have so much to live for. Don’t throw it all away for a demon that will never have the capacity to love you. Who will never be able to give you a normal, safe life. Who will watch you wither with age year after year, while he remains unchanged. Do you think he will want the same things as you when you’re ready to settle down? He’s inherently evil. All he knows is carnage and pain.”

  I shake my head furiously. “You don’t know him.”

  “No, Eden. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be human. To him and his kind, you are a pet. A little lapdog to play with when they get bored. They are enamored with your vulnerability. It’s fascinating to them—merely entertainment. You think they’ll ever see you as their equal? As one of them? No. They keep you around because immortality has proven to be tedious. And when they tire of you, they will find something else to occupy their time with. Legion, especially.”

  “You’re wrong. You don’t know him,” I repeat.

  “Well…I do know the one thing he wants more than you. Even more than Adriel.”

  “What’s that?” I frown, ready to call him on his shit. There’s no way he knows a damn thing about what Legion wants.

  “His salvation. And I have a way of giving it to him.”

  I try desperately to school my features into something impassive, but inside I’m screaming. Legion’s salvation? He could find his way back? He could be himself again?

  He’s roamed the Earth for centuries. He’s fought his own kind to prove he was honorable. He prayed and he begged and he bled for penance for every single sin committed and every single lost soul collected. And if Rev is correct, there may be a way to wipe the slate clean. A way to strip away the pain and self-loathing and transform him to what he once was.

  But at what cost?

  Seeming to pluck the question right from my head, Rev continues. “What do you think he’ll choose, if given the choice? You, or the thing he’s been searching for since the beginning of humanity? You know the answer, Eden. This is all he’s ever wanted. You were merely a detour along the way.”

  I open my mouth to refute his claims, but the words fizzle and die on my tongue. How can I compete with that? This may be L’s last and only shot at redemption. And after all he’s done—all he’s sacrificed—why would I try to stand in the way of that?

  This could be the beginning of my own journey to salvation. This one selfless act could be my turning point. I have so much to seek forgiveness for, so many sins to repent, so many crimes to atone for. This could be the beginning of reclaiming my soul.

  “I need to see him,” I utter.

  “Unfortunately, that’s not possible.” Rev offers a solemn grin by way of apology.

  I frown. “Why not?”

  “Because he’ll try to talk you out of it. He’s so blinded by his hatred for the Alliance that he won’t be able to see that this is what’s best for you. And if he truly loved you—if he cared about you in any way—he would be able to put this petty grudge aside and do what’s right. He would let you go. He would allow you to live a safe, normal life, free of demons and warlocks and the rest of his world’s evils. If Legion was capable of loving you, he’d let you have the human life you deserve.”

  I look around the tiny room just to give my eyes something to do. Because if I dare to glance across that table and read the pity etched in my estranged father’s face, I know I won’t be able to hold my shit together. I won’t be able to keep up this ridiculous charade of a hard-ass, fearless chick that would fight to the death before she gives up. But I’m not. Not even close. Because right now, as Rev’s words echo in my skull, I want to give up. I want to give in and let the tide of defeat pull me under, until I’m floating, weightless…breathless, in a sea of sorrow.

  I can’t deny him of this. I can’t keep Legion from his destiny just because I want to keep him close to me. Because I love him. And for that…for that I have to let him go. Even if he’s incapable of ever feeling the same. I will let him go, and spend the rest of my human days loving him enough for the both of us.

  “Tell me what you want me to do,” I rasp, with tears made of broken glass in my throat.

  “It’s not what I want you to do, Eden. It’s what we can do for you.” Again, he reaches across the table and rests a hand on top of mine. This time I don’t pull away. “There’s someone that wants to meet you. Someone that can erase the evil inside you, extract the fallen angel, and give you your life back. You can walk away from here a new person, free from the bonds of fear and hatred.”

  I finally let m
yself look at him. “But wouldn’t that kill me? Extracting the angel?”

  “If done at the hands of the malevolent? Yes.”

  “And at the hands of a human? Wouldn’t that be fatal?”

  He nods. “It takes an all-powerful being to exorcise an angel out of its chosen host. A human attempting to perform the act would surely kill the host and themselves.”

  “So how? How is that supposed to convince me to trust you? When you’ve proven this is a suicide mission?”

  Rev leans forward, excitement shining in his wild eyes. “Because it won’t be me pulling that angel out of your body, Eden. They’re here. On Earth. They promised me…they promised they would come back and they did. And now they will come for you.”

  “Who’s here?” I whisper, a tinge of terror in my voice. I know the answer, but I need to hear him say it. I need to know that what we suspected was true. That every bad thing that has happened was because they allowed it. Because they deliberately let us suffer.

  I try to retract my hand, but he squeezes it hard enough to make my bones crack. “The Seraph. The Seraph are coming, my dear. And they will make this right. They will take away your pain, your confusion. With the grace of God, they will make you whole again.”

  Whole again.

  What does that even mean?

  I was never whole. When he left before I had even taken my first breath, he took a piece of me. When my mom took a knife to her stomach and tried to end my life, she cut off a piece of me. When I was beaten, bullied, and degraded, I lost piece after piece after piece of me. And when Legion sat there, his arms and legs bound in silver and angel venom, and watched me take Lucifer’s hand, I left behind the biggest, most important piece of me.

  I am and always have been just a fragment of a girl. Maybe this is my chance to finally be something more.

  “And he’ll be ok? Legion? And Crysis? What will happen to him?”

  “As long as you cooperate, all will be well. Eden, once all of this is over, we will walk away better than we are now. We’ll get exactly what we want. And then you can determine if he still wants you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I frown.

  “He won’t be the man—the demon—you know. And Adriel will have taken on her own form. You’ll be free of her. I wonder…will Legion still want you then? Right now, he’s barely a step up from human. But what he was before…what he will be again…”

  He doesn’t have to finish his thought. I know exactly what he’s getting at. Once Legion is restored to his former, angelic glory, he won’t want me anymore. Not when he’ll be indestructible, formidable, and devastatingly beautiful. Not when he’ll have those majestic wings that were ripped from his back before he was cast to Hell. Not when he has Adriel back.

  And I can’t be selfish with him. I can’t keep him trapped here—on Earth, as something that he was never meant to be—just because I’m afraid of going on without him. Not just afraid—terrified. Terrified that he’ll pick her instead of me. Completely, severely terrified that all of this will have been for nothing, and that I’ll become what I always felt deep down inside. Just a tiny, floating speck of dust in his sky full of radiant stars.

  I lift my chin just a fraction, and swallow what’s left of my broken pride. “When do we start?”

  Rev doesn’t even have the decency to hide his obvious elation. “Tomorrow night, a rare celestial event occurs. There will be a total solar eclipse, along with the passing of a comet. It creates the perfect balance of energy for the transfer to take place. Energy that attracts only the most powerful of angels.”

  “The Seraph,” I say under my breath.

  “They’ll know. They’ll come for you. And they will smite anyone who stands in our way. It’s God’s Will.”

  I suck my teeth in aggravation. “Just like they tried to smite my sister? Or was that just God’s Will, as well?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deadpans, his face giving nothing away. Fucking liar.

  I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t believe a damn word he says. But if I don’t go along with this, who knows what they’ll do to L. Hell, they may have already skewered him with an angel venom-soaked blade.

  And Crysis…I may not know him well, but I care enough about him to not want him dead. He was willing to fight for me. He was prepared to betray the brotherhood he had been raised in for the sake of doing the right thing. That counts for something. And to be honest, he’s not a bad guy. And if we had met at another time, in another life, I probably would have been into him. That is, if I had turned out to be another person. Someone optimistic, and bright, and shiny.

  It’s too late for me. But it’s not to late for him. Or Legion. Or even Sister. After all this is over, and the Seraph have Adriel back, they’ll no longer see me as a threat. I’ll be left alone to live out my pitiful, inconsequential human life without having to look over my shoulder every five minutes. My sister can focus on healing without the threat of another bomb to draw me out. Every bad thing that’s happened—every thing that has hurt the people I love—has been because of me, and what I am. This is my chance—my chance to make it right. I have no other choice.

  I stretch a shaky hand across the table. My fingers tremble against the chilly damp air.

  This time tomorrow, I’ll be an ordinary girl.

  No Calling.

  No Adriel.

  No Legion.

  So why does it feel like I’m about to sign away my life on the dotted line?

  The Se7en fought for me, killed for me, bled for me. Now, it’s my turn to return the favor.

  “You have a deal.”

  “Wonderful, my dear daughter. I knew you’d make the right choice.”

  My father’s expression morphs into one of joyous malice as he fits his palm against mine. The very second his skin touches mine, a bright, blinding light shoots from our hands, engulfing them is white flames. It burns, so much so that the searing pain chokes the screams from my throat. I try to struggle from his grasp, but I am completely paralyzed in agony and fear. Only my wide, terrified eyes can watch in horror as Rev’s smile widens, giving off another blaring blast of light. He opens his mouth to speak and I have to shut my eyelids to keep my retinas from burning.

  “Adriel…” he coos in a voice I’ve never heard. A voice that isn’t human at all. Like beautiful music that’s been scratched and distorted, yet I can understand it. I can hear it, even though the very sound of it causes my brain to pulse and ache within my skull. I try to scream out, but my vocal cords are frozen. Not even my lips tremble in fear.

  “Adriel,” he says again, triggering a wave of nausea to roar in my gut. “We will meet again. Soon, my love. You can’t run from me. We will be together. Your demon can’t save you now.”

  Then, mercifully, the pain gives way to unconsciousness, and I pass out. The ghost of that blinding light is burned into my eyes, robbing me of the peace and safety of darkness. There is no nighttime in my slumber. I can no longer see the stars.

  “Then Jesus asked him,” What is your name?”

  “My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.””

  Blood still trickles from the gash at the top of his skull, running in red rivulets down his brutally beaten body. He’s been stripped and degraded. He can’t heal. His wounds won’t clot. But he’s alive. Just barely, but he’s alive.

  Legion is smart enough to know that it’s no accident. The Alliance could have killed him—would have killed him—under any other circumstances. They have angel venom, and judging by how much is soaked into the restraints that have him bound on a solid silver cross, fashioned like some sick, twisted crucifix, they have a fuck ton of it.

  He’s alive. But not for long.

  He knows what’s happening right now. They’re filling Eden’s head with empty promises, telling her that she can move on from this, she can be happy and safe and ordinary, if she only cooperates. Vomiting lies about how demons can’t love, therefo
re, he could never, ever hold the capacity to love her. Beating her down only so they can build her back up with their baseless bullshit.

  They don’t know shit about love. Her father—the honorable reverend who abandoned her to a mentally ill drug addict—forfeited his right to love her twenty-two years ago. And now, he’s hurting her once again. Raping her of her spirit and goodness, just so he can kill her. Because that’s what’s going to happen if Legion doesn’t get to Eden in time. He’s going to kill his own daughter.

  Legion struggles against the restraints and the sound of sizzling flesh fills the small, dark room. He can smell his own skin cooking, and if he had the strength to vomit, he’d be choking on his bile right now. He can’t even scream anymore, his throat too raw and bloody to do more than wheeze through the pain. It won’t be long now. Once they coerce Eden into agreeing with their terms, they’ll have no more need for him.

  He barely has enough energy to flinch when he hears the heavy, steel door open, allowing dim light to flood into his tiny dungeon. Head down and hands clamped tight, a small, robed figure quietly approaches.

  This is it. Eden gave in quicker than he thought. Maybe they tortured her like they did him. He wouldn’t be surprised, considering her own flesh and blood wants to serve her up on a silver, angel venom-slathered platter, L wouldn’t put it past the Alliance to revert to their archaic ways.

  Which means he’s already too late.

  He struggles against the restraints again, expending the last of his small reserve of energy and causing the silver rope to tears into already mangled skin. He’s beyond suffering. Pain is secondary to the fear he feels for Eden’s mortality. He promised to save her or die trying. This is him…dying to save her.

  The robed figure scurries over to him, close enough for him to smell the fear reeking underneath the hood. He catches the scent and instantly stills.

  It’s a woman.

  But not just any woman.

  Eden’s mother.

  He opens his mouth to question her presence—have they really sent Eden’s mom to kill him?—but the words crumble like ash in his throat.