“I am not going anywhere—“ Azrael loses his words as I tackle him, focusing my thoughts on the train’s luggage car.
We appear amid racks of suitcases, duffel bags, and cardboard boxes. “You piece of shit.Appearingin front of humans can cause them serious harm. You could have hurtWillow.” Shoving him with all my strength, I send him flying halfway across the car.
“Your time is up.” He smooths his hands down his bespoke black suit, then plucks a speck of dust from his sleeve. Did he find a soul to give him fashion lessons since we last spoke?
“Seraphiel is on a rampage,” he says. “If you don’t come with me right now, I’m afraid he’ll go to the Almighty and demand she take your wings.”
For two days, so many of my thoughts have been consumed by one question. Would I give up all I have ever known for the chance to be with Willow?
Facing off with my brother, I find my answer.
Yes.
I straighten my shoulders and look Azrael in the eyes. “Let Seraphiel do his worst. This is where I belong.”
“Gabriel, the earthen realm is exciting. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay. But you have responsibilities to fulfill. We all do.”
“Myresponsibilitieshave always been to the people of this realm. But I cannot fulfill them from,” I wave my hand toward the ceiling, “up there.”
“You have to.” Azrael advances on me, his eyes glowing with power. Frigid air races through the car as the train speeds around a curve. “Celestials do not walk among humans.”
I punch the Angel of Death in his smug, perfect face. “This one does.”
A suitcase tumbles off one of the racks and lands between us. The momentary distraction is all Azrael needs to tackle me. We hit the ground, trading punches until I taste blood and his left eye is starting to swell.
“Why will you not see reason?” he growls and throws me onto the top rack. My head hits the ceiling. Stars glitter at the edges of my vision.
“Reason? There is no reason archangels should be confined to the celestial realm. There is no reason we cannot accomplish our duties while livingamonghumans. But most of all, there is no reasonfor Seraphiel to be such a complete and total twat, yet here we are.”
My back aches, the telltale prickle I only feel when my wings demand to be freed spreading out from my spine.
“Fuck. Not now,” I mutter. Blood spatters my blue dress shirt, and several of the buttons popped off as we battled. I jump down and pull the stained material over my head.
Deep bruises mar my torso. Azrael is leaner than I am, but the full strength of the celestial realm clings to him, while I have been on earth for weeks.
“Seraphiel is a dick,” Azrael says. “But he is one of the Seraphim. He has the right to call you home. As you are unable to return on your own, you will come with me. Now.”
My wings burst forth, the light reflecting off them blinding in this dimly lit train car. Pure white, with hundreds of new feathers no longer burned, blistered, or broken.
I turn sideways, extending them to their fullest—and whacking Azrael in the face. No pain. Nothing but raw power that begs to be unleashed. Only yesterday, they were so ruined, I feared they would never be whole again. That I did not deserve to call myself an angel. That when Azrael came for me, I would need to beg for his indulgence.
“I am the Archangel Gabriel. The bringer of justice, the revealer of truth, and the interpreter of the Almighty’s plan,” I roar so loudly, I would not be surprised if even the vampires woke from the sound. “I have free will—as do all in this realm—and I am exercising it now.”
Folding my wings against my back, I stalk over to the Angel of Death, grab his lapels, and get right in his face.
“Tell Seraphiel—and the Almighty—that I quit.”
TWENTY-SIX
Willow
I just met the Angel of Death. Well, kind of. He stood there like some black-winged Reaper, staring at Gabriel like he didn’t even recognize him.
What if they don’t come back? I trust Killian and Maddox. Kunchin. The vampires. Sin and Zoe. But Gabriel…I love him, and I can’t do this—any of this—without him.
“Stop it,” I mutter to myself. “Loving him isn’t going to save you.”
My whisper glides over to the window next to me. Her gauzy fingers brush my cheek—solid enough for me to feel the lightest stirring of the air.
