I was still heaving under the wound Fauna’s betrayal had left behind.
“I don’t expect you to forgive Fauna,” he said. “Human ideas of morality are rather rigid, and maybe demons are more comfortable with their flexibility than you are. But she’s more wild than the wind. It’s an admirable quality. Feral creatures can’t be bound by tame rules.”
Kirby cleared their throat. “Hey, Marlow?”
I knew they were trying to spare me from digging myself into a hole in front of Nia, but I needed a moment. This was more pressing.
“This isn’t—” I succeeded in pulling fully away from Azrames’s hug. My lip snagged mid-snarl as my rage reignited. I didn’t need a toxically positive soliloquy on how much he loved my new archnemesis. “She was using me to jumpstart the Apocalypse.”
“The Celts have Balor, the Shinto have Kagutsuchi, the Egyptians have Apep, the Hindus have Vishnu—”
“And Heaven and Hell have me,” I said.
“Yes, but that’s not my point. If you’d crossed paths with Cronos, I’d bet my hat he wouldn’t have facilitated you fulfilling your own prophecy. He would’ve moved forward with his own, overthrown the major deities, and brought about the end of times.”
I wasn’t amused. “You’re not wearing a hat.”
“What I’m saying is: The end is coming, no matter who does it. At least Fauna let you have your cake and eat it too. She worked with you, for your common goal. You don’t know how lucky you are that you were found by an apocalypse goddess who loved you.”
Fauna. Angrboda. Ragnarök. The Rapture. The End Times. I didn’t care. Betrayal was betrayal, no matter howyou dressed it.
Azrames crossed his arms and resumed his relaxed pose against the wall, disengaging from the topic. Instead, he said, “The humans still can’t hear me. And you reek of angel. I can only assume your new best friend Silas is here?”
I looked over my shoulder to regard Nia and Kirby. They’d taken a step closer to one another but had otherwise remained in silent, motionless horror. I looked back at him. “Silas has nowhere to go. We have to let him in. He’s on our side.” At the dark flash in Azrames’s eyes, I clarified, “He’s onmyside.”
“Mar—”
“He’s risked his life for me. And this is Nia’s house. If she invites him in, he can stay with us, wherever we go.”
Azrames exhaled and shoved off the wall. He wandered to the couch. “Do what you must. Welcome the angel. Let your friends adjust to a moderately attractive heavenly male before they’re ready to see a true god.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle at his smartass remark, and he grinned in response, sharpened canines glistening. I turned back to Nia and Kirby, frowning in apology at how their very human mudroom, with its gray, textured walls, loose collection of shoes, and the pleasant scent of peppermint from whatever candle Nia had flickering in the home, was about to turn into ground zero for the supernatural.
“Okay.” I turned to Nia as I procured the tiny golden figurine from my pocket. I looked at both of them as I said, “Azrames is on your couch. He’s great. He might be…a lot…but if I tell you that he’s the vigilante hero, slitting the throats of anyone who commits violence against women, hopefully that gives you some peace. In the car, on the other hand”—I unfolded my tightly clutched fingers and extended their contents toward Nia—“is the only ally we have who’s defected directly from Heaven. The boys don’t particularly like one another, but we need all of them. Nia, since you’ve specifically rebuked Heaven and angels, you’ll have to be theone to invite Silas in.”
I waited until she took the golden poppet from my hand. She looked down at it for a long while. Her fingers closed around it. “Is there any chance you’re being possessed by one of these freaks and I’m just inviting danger in all directions?”
I made a contemplative face, lower lip puckering as I looked up, folding my arms. “I suppose it’s always possible. Maybe this is some weird scheme to fuck with you and, I don’t know…cause miscellaneous mayhem? But if I’m right, the alternative is that a lot of us are about to die. I need us all to be on the same page and fast. Silas said that no matter how good the warding is, we’re sitting ducks if we wait around to see if it has a weakness they can exploit. We have to get out of here, and it’s not going to happen until you know this is real.”
“Great,” Nia said, opening the door. “So, let in more imaginary friends or perish.” She poked her head around the corner and waited.
I wanted to tell her she didn’t need to open the door, but to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure how it worked. From over her shoulder, I said, “I think you just need to verbally welcome Silas in, and he’ll take care of the rest.”
Nia sucked her teeth. To Kirby, she asked one more time, “You swear this is real? I’m not being punked?”
“I swear it,” they said.
Nia drummed her fingers on her doorframe a few times. The gesture would have looked impatient if I hadn’t understood the underlying trepidation. She exhaled loudly and slowly, gripping the golden poppet before saying, “If there’s a Silas in the area, I welcome him, andno other angel, into my home. And, uh, I’d like for him to reveal himself…or whatever.”
Three things happened at once.
Silas, in his six-foot-four shimmering glory, appeared a step past the door’s threshold, precariously positioning him over Nia’s shoulder. Nia and Kirby spun in startled fright to absorb the enormous warrior, glinting sword, golden eyes, imposingpresence, and suffocating scent of myrrh and brightly spiced oils. And Nia, in her state of shock, barely released a high, squeaking scream before she tumbled backward, head hitting the door as she slumped into concussed unconsciousness.
