“Live!” Istral cried. “Please, Gall,breathe.I’m here. I’m back. I won’t leave again, I promise! Please, come back!”
She grabbed him by the clasp of his cape, and tried to shake him, but he was so large, and she was so small, she only succeeded in nudging him so his head tipped and his one, remainingopeneye stared dully at the audience. That thick bolt protruding from the other eye-socket, and painting his cheek and neck in the red of his lifeblood.
I couldn’t breathe.
Yilan openly wept.
Istral placed her hand on his hair and dropped her head to his chest, throwing herself over him. “I’m here now, Gall! I’ll never leave you—please…please. Come back.”
The sob that tore from her was so broken, so clawing, I felt the pain of it in my chest. Yilan staggered to her feet, and I followed her, ready to say to hell with all of this. To let her shroud us and fly in there, pick up the weeping Istral and simply fly away, as far away as it took to never have to see any of these bastards again.
Especially the Fallen.
And yet… how far was far enough to avoid an immortal?
Defeat. Painful, undeniable defeat churned in my guts.
He was going to win. This sick bastard who’d turned and twisted and perverted the world since the dawn of time, who’d denied God Himself, was going to win.
It was so fucking unfair.
Yilan cried for her sister, and for Gall. She cried for the injustice, and the pain. I felt her give in to the grief and fear and rage that ran in her veins.
But I felt only numb.
Dead.
My son is dead…
Then Lucifer appeared, a gentle hand on Istral’s shoulder, leaning over her where she sprawled on Gall’s body. Yilan tensed. I gathered her in, nodding.
If we couldn’t win, we’d go down showing that asshole—
Istral jerked up, her eyes back on Lucifer. He placed one hand over hers on Gall’s head, cupping that warrior’s length that told the world Gall had made his first killyearsearlier, which was impossible, then taking her other hand, twining their fingers, and laying that on Gall’s chest.
I wanted to vomit, watching him whisper in Istral’s ear.
But her tears stopped.
She still trembled, but she nodded, and then Lucifer was gone.
Crying and still shaking, Istral looked down at Gall, her eyes so sad—but then she began to whisper words I couldn’t hear.
The air in the coliseum…shifted.
“What is she doing?” Yilan breathed.
I didn’t know. Couldn’t answer. “We should go get her out of here,” I muttered, cursing myself for not listening and refusing to let Yilan steal her away earlier. Cursing myself for not simply taking Gall and—
The arrow that had stuck grotesquely from Gall’s eye-socket tipped, and clattered to the stage, the sound of it hitting the boards echoing through the Coliseum as if it were amplified.
There was a collective gasp from the watching Nephilim, and a rumble of curious, terrified voices.
But though Istral’s eyes widened, it wasn’t with fear. Her lips moved even faster. She leaned over Gall, speaking directly to him, her hands white-knuckled and arms shaking.
Then, as she shook him, her whispers growing more frantic, as we all leaned forward, transfixed… Gallconvulsed.
I sucked in a breath and Yilan actually yelped.
