Page 187

The alley reeks of wet cardboard, old garbage, and rust, and I’m still trying to work out why the hell my Grace pulled me here when footsteps scrape against the pavement behind me.

I stop.

Sulfur burns the back of my throat.

Shit.

A figure steps out from between two buildings.

Then another.

Three more follow, spreading across the alley until five men stand between me and the street.

At least, they look like men—from a distance.

Up close, the illusion starts falling apart. Their skin sits too tight across their cheekbones. Their mouths barely move when they breathe. One tilts his head and holds it there a few seconds too long, while another smiles without anything changing around his eyes.

And those eyes… flat amber from edge to edge.

The one in the middle steps toward me. Sulfur rolls off him, and I know what they are now. Collectors. They didn’t come here to kill me.

Although that would be easier.

“Sentinel.” The one in front says my name like he’s reading it off a ledger, bored and thorough all at once. “The First Covenant states clearly what happens to Fallen Grace. You belong to us now.”

My wings answer with a snap of silver light, the flash running through black feathers before flickering out almost as fast as it came. It’s nothing like the gold that used to pour through them, but it’s there.

The collector’s mouth curls. “Look at him.” Another one steps closer, sniffing at the air like he can taste how empty I am. “Barely standing. This should be almost insulting.”

My knees threaten to buckle, and I lock them out of pure stubbornness, because whatever I am now, I refuse to let five glorified debt collectors watch me hit the pavement.

“Come on then.” I spread my hands, my tainted Grace already burning through my palms. “Let’s get this over with.”

The collector in the middle smiles. “Bennett Caelum.”

Every muscle in my body locks—nobody down here knows that name.

His amber eyes brighten. “Heaven sends its regards.”

Of all the things I expected him to say, Heaven wasn’t fucking one of them. “What?”

Then the five of them rush me. My wings explode from my back as I throw both hands forward, black-streaked Grace and hellfire slamming together between my palms.

The blast hits the first collector square in the chest. He doesn’t fucking move as my power disappears into him.

His smile widens. “You really have changed.”

Then his hand closes around my throat.

VESPAH

I’m halfway down the hall when something hits me hard enough to stop me.

Pain.

Not mine.

His.