Chapter 19

Ithought Lucifer was going to feed me to his demons. He didn't. With a cheeky grin and a tap on the forehead, Lucifer sent me far, far away—racing on the back of a flash of bright Light. I didn't feel a thing. No nausea, no dropping of the stomach, not even a rush of air. One moment I was floating in the sky above the pyramids, the next I was standing in a dark corridor lit only by firelight in sconces.

The walls were tall, the ceiling curved. Soft flames licked at walls of blackened stone, but the glow from those fires didn't go very far. The air was cold, and oppressive, and though I was alone I thought I could hear a very faint hum as if from a choir.

I had to silence the instinct to call out. I knew my voice would carry, and I didn't want to alert anyone to my presence. Though if Lucifer had sent me here then it was entirely likely that anyone who needed to know I was here already knew.

The hallway ahead of me was long, and deep. There were no windows to the outside, no way for me to know where I was or even what time of the day it was. Behind me, an ornate door barred the way out. I raced to it, tried the handle, but the door wouldn't budge.

I shoved at it with my shoulder, trying my best to hit it with intent while also not making much noise.

No good.

There was only one way through here, and that path lay ahead. So, I walked down the long, dark corridor, my footsteps echoing ahead of me, and as I walked, I slowly realized that all of this was familiar.

I had been here before.

At least, I had been somewhere that looked like this.

The dark walls, the firelight, the lack of illumination; there was only one other place on Earth I had been to before that shared this place's likeness, and that was the Ebon Legion's bastion. Abaddon's bastion. It too was dark, and drab, and very sparsely decorated. Abaddon—the Tyrant, as he was known as then—didn't believe in frivolities and luxuries—everything had to have a purpose, or it had to go.

Why had Lucifer done this? Why had he brought me here? After everything he'd just said about the two of us, about how I cared too much for Abaddon and how we only slowed each other down. Why bring me to him?

The hallway seemed endless. Chthonic. Like a hallway between two long forgotten tombs only visited by the poor bastard who had to walk around lighting the sconces.

Finally, I saw it. There was a door at the end of the hallway, and from beyond that doorway came a sliver of light just faint enough to tell me it was ajar. I hurried towards the door, my legs carrying me as fast as they could carry me, my arms pumping, my lungs burning.

When I reached the door, I didn't slow down. I barged through it, spilling into the chamber beyond with a loud thud that would've alerted everybody in this place of my presence.

The chamber I was in was enormous. Cavernous. Huge columns jutted out of the ground and climbed easily a hundred feet into the air, where they met at the base of a dome into which a single, small skylight had been placed.

That skylight allowed a single beam of soft moonlight to fall upon a throne that sat upon a raised dais. The throne looked like it was made of obsidian with a tall back and plush, dark, velvet cushions set into it. But it wasn't the throne that called my attention. Neither did the multitudes of people gathered around the chamber; people wearing robes, and hoods, and humming some kind of sad dirge.

What had made my breath catch in my throat wasn't any of that; it was the angel sitting on the throne.

Abaddon.

He lounged upon the throne, shirtless as ever, wearing a pair of black pants, boots, and gauntlets. His head was low, his eyes had a reddish glow about them, and out of his head emerged huge, slightly curved horns that rose up and over his head, following the curve of his skull but then tipping up towards the sky at their peaks.

The sight of him took my breath away. I had seen him in Hell. I had seen the horns, I had seen the marks on his body, but it wasn't until now that I had felt the power that oozed from him.

Power that left me rooted to the spot.

I felt small, suddenly. Not like one of God's own Lightbringers at all, but like a child staring into the mouth of a hungry wolf. The humming grew louder, and more forceful as the seconds passed. When Abaddon raised his eyes to look at me, the humming reached a peak. It held there for a moment just past the point of comfort, then Abaddon flicked his wrist, and the humming stopped allowing a heavy silence to take its place.

Abaddon took a deep breath in through the nose and then exhaled, his chest rising and falling against the moonlight falling on him from above.

Just bring her back.

I opened my mouth to speak, but it was Abaddon who spoke first, his voice a deep growl to fill the chamber.

"You should not have come here," he said.

"I didn't have a choice," I said. "Lucifer sent me here."

Abaddon tipped his chin up slightly. "To kill me?"

"To… kill you? Why would I want to kill you?"

"The Morningstar does not suffer weakness. He sends yet another disguised pawn before the King of the Ashes to determine the sharpness of his sword, the strength of his resolve."

Ice ran through my veins. "King of the… is that what you call yourself now?" I said.

"It is a title handed down to me by prophecy, a deed-name written by destiny's hand. Who am I to argue with destiny?"

I took a step toward him, and Abaddon shifted in his seat. I hadn't noticed his wings, not until they unfurled behind his back and stretched out from either side of him. He looked poised, like a giant bird of prey ready to strike me down at a moment's notice.

"Not another step," he warned.

"Abaddon… it's me, Sarakiel," I said.

The King of the Ashes rose from his throne, standing upright and curling his wings behind his back. "I know who you say you are, but you are not her. You are a lackey, a minion trying to curry favor with the Morningstar. Know that you have been sent here to be destroyed."

Abaddon reached out to me with his right hand, and I felt my chest tighten as if it had been caught in a vice. Pain rippled through me in waves, radiating from my core all the way out into my limbs. I felt my throat close, my ribs strain, and my vision begin to blacken.

I didn't know how he was doing this, but I didn't have time to figure it out—I had to break free.

I did the only thing I thought I could. I stretched my wings out behind me and flared my Light, bidding it to manifest in the space between them. A bright, golden radiance filled the chamber tearing through it like a tsunami to fill every single dark pocket it could find. The hooded congregation began to screech and hiss, and as the light touched them, they evaporated into pillars of dark smoke.

Abaddon's hold over me broke a moment later, allowing me a chance to take a breath and regain my senses. I felt like I had just been smashed in the chest with a sledge-hammer!

"How did you?" he asked, his head angling to the side.

"Because I'm not who you think I am!" I yelled.

The King of the Ashes lowered his head again, his red eyes burning. "We shall see," he said, and then he launched himself at me, using his giant wings to propel himself through the chamber and close the distance between us.

He wasn't a demon, so the Light pulsating between my wings had no effect on him except to throw his aim a little. He tried to grab hold of me but fell short by a foot or so allowing me a moment to jump back and find my own footing. With my feet firmly on the ground, I was able to avoid the next attempted grab and the one after.

I didn't want to hurt him, but it was like he was possessed. He kept coming for me, throwing blow after blow when he realized he wasn't able to grab hold of me like he wanted to. I didn't have a choice but to put up a shield of blazing Light, one that allowed me to put something hard between us for him to smash his gauntlet into.

My golden shield burned to life with a hum, and when Abaddon struck it, he looked entirely stunned. I took the opportunity to bash him in the chest with it, forcing him back a few paces and stopping the flurry of blows even if only for a moment.

"Abaddon!" I roared. "It's me!"

Abaddon stared at me, his face now bright and entirely visible against the shine of my shield. He looked the way I remembered him, but there was pain in those eyes, and anger. I realized as I saw him in the light that the red glow of his eyes wasn't visible anymore, and that behind the glow were those mercurial eyes I had fallen in love with.

It was him. He was in there. And as his mouth slackened, I knew, he had just realized I was me as well.

"Sarakiel…" he whispered, his head shaking. "Impossible."

"It's not," I said, "I'm here."

"You are in Hell. I saw him throw you into the Pit."

"I made it out, Abaddon. I made it out of Hell, and I'm here now."

Abaddon's eyes suddenly widened. He turned his face away and put his wings up as if to shield himself from my gaze. "You cannot be here," he said. "You need to leave."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to, and I don't want to. I'm not leaving without you."

"You do not understand. You cannot be here."

"Because he expects you to kill me, right? How many times has he done this to you?"

"That is not the question to ask. The question is how many times have I killed you… with my bare hands?"

"He tortured you…" I breathed. I reached for his wing, trying to touch it, but he shrugged away from me and began marching back to his throne. "What did he do to you?" I called out.

"That isn't your concern, Sarakiel." Abaddon turned his head up and looked at the skylight. He reached an outstretched hand toward it, then he clenched his hand into a fist and the skylight imploded. Pieces of it broke off and fell harmlessly around him, cracking into even smaller pieces as they hit the ground leaving Abaddon bathed in a wash of moonlight.

"Leave," he simply said, pointing up at the ceiling. "Before he realizes I haven't killed you."

"I won't," I said. "And if you truly haven't forgotten who I am, you know I'm stubborn enough to stay here."

"I am still not convinced you are who you say you are. I have not been able to trust my senses in a long time. But I am offering you this chance. Take it and go."

"If I can prove I am the Sarakiel you know, would you leave with me?"

"You are wasting time."

"Remember the day you found me on that long stretch of road. It was raining. I had just killed two men, raptured them without knowing I could do that. You took me in and brought me to your bastion."

Abaddon turned his head slightly to the left, enough to see me with the side of his face without looking at me directly. "I thought you were a spy."

"And you were an asshole to me, but you never let anyone touch me or hurt me. You broke the wings of both of the angels who ever dared."

"Karn…"

"Remember Helena?" I said. "Remember how we fought Medrion and his forces off together. Remember the volcano…" I ventured.

Abaddon turned around fully, and while his countenance was still dark, and pained, I saw the angel I knew once more. I saw memory dancing across his face. He was trying to remember those moments, to relive them. I felt pain, now, watching him. What had Lucifer done to him?

"It is you…" he said.

I nodded. "I came back," I said, taking a step toward him. "I clawed my way out of the Pit, I fought my way through Hell, and slipped through the portal to Earth just to get back to you."

"Sarakiel, I…" he tried to speak, but then thought better of continuing.

I took another step toward him, nodding. "That's right," I said. "It's me. I don't know what's happened to you or what Lucifer has done to you, but I'm here, and I'm asking you to leave with me."

He shook his head. "You don't understand. The things I have done… these sins cannot be washed away."

"I don't care about what he made you do. I only care about how much it's hurt you."

"I am not the same angel I was. I am an angel no longer…" he lowered his head. "Soon, I fear, I may become Wretched."

"Don't say that. Come with me and let me help you."

"I am beyond help, Sarakiel." He turned his eyes up at me. "I am the King of the Ashes. Ariuk's prophecy came true."

I shook my head and ran up to him, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. Looking up at him I tried to catch his eyes, but he didn't want to look at me. I dared get a little closer and place my hand on his chest like I used to.

For me, it wasn't that long ago I had last done this. For him, it may have felt like a lifetime ago—or longer still. I felt his chest rise, then fall. I felt his heart beating beneath his skin, pulsing slowly, and calmly.

"Come with me," I said. "Please."

Abaddon gave me his eyes. "You will not love me like you once did when you hear of the things I have done," he said.

"Let me be the judge of that."

I surged toward him, reaching for his lips with my own, when a chorus of resounding laughter filled the chamber.