XXXVI

R aphael's panic tumbled out of control.

The demons, however backstabbing they were toward each other, held a united front when it came to their kind's most valued secrets and possessions. As a new demon, that fealty was beaten into them before they were allowed to leave the confines of the Demon Quarter. A cold sweat developed on the back of Raphael's neck.

One such oath was to never give away their sacred blood, for if a sorcerer or sorceress was clever enough, they could trace it back to their Lord. And if their Lord's identity was uncovered, all his plans for demonkind would be ruined, or so Raphael was made to believe. It was why demons never fought in the Pits. It was why they never let vampyrés bite them.

A shaky exhale burst out of him. Raphael took another step back, feeling lightheaded.

"You owe me an explanation too," Stella said quietly and straightened her shoulders. "The grimoire. Why do you really need it? I know it's not for our protection. You could use any spell book for that. Why this grimoire?"

"Layla."

Raphael cursed himself internally. Her name spilled out before he could stop himself.

"She needs it?" Stella probed.

"Not precisely." Raphael licked his lips, wavering under Stella's intense regard. "The demons… if I don't deliver it to them, they'll kill her."

Her features bunched together in what first seemed like disbelief before the color washed from Stella's face. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

A curl of sympathy wrapped around him. Raphael didn't think Stella knew what she was doing, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless, even as it cracked something open inside of him. A wall, he realized, one he kept erected to protect himself. Raphael sucked in a tight breath, unnerved by the temptation to let her pry the crack open further. To confess every sin to her.

He held back the urge. They were in enough of a mess as it was, and to spill every secret and lie, to tell her the true extent of his mission, would end up with them both dead. It didn't stop him from wondering what she would do with the information. Sell it to the Vranas? Help him?

A movement from Stella caught his eye and returned his attention to the present. She was slipping back, one hand reaching out to the stone wall for balance. She looked scared.

She felt it too.

"What is it?" Raphael asked. He'd been so wrapped up in his emotions and thoughts, that hers became the barest whisper.

"Real," she whispered. Her gaze glued itself to a spot past him. Raphael followed her line of sight but noted nothing other than the same boring and dimly lit hall. Except it wasn't exactly dimly lit anymore. It was darker.

And growing darker by the second. Shit.

"What's going on? Am I… am I seeing things? Or are you seeing this too? It's not cold here, is it?"

"I'm seeing what you're seeing," he replied grimly. "The lights are going out, but it isn't getting any colder."

Where there is darkness, there are demons.

By Fate's hand or some other cruel God, the hall rapidly fell to the insatiable darkness until only a few meager lights remained. Their weak offering of incandescence gave birth to shadows.

Raphael tensed as a low rumble of laughter echoed through the hall, preceding the slow materialization of gilded horns. His lungs constricted as runes of gleaming obsidian alighted from tip to base. Although he didn't recognize the owner of the horns, the mere fact that they possessed so many runes sent fear racing through his bloodstream.

Then, another set of horns appeared.

And another.

All bore glowing runes from base to tip that were foreign to him. Which meant…

Assassins.

"Raphael? What do we do?" She paused and he heard her muttering something fiercely behind him only to let out a frustrated noise. "I don't think my immobilization power is working on them."

It wasn't. The horns ebbed closer.

Raphael gravitated back to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her close. She trembled against him. The fear between them built, but Raphael knew if they allowed it to grow, there would be no help for them.

Not that there was much they could do to get out of this situation anyway. He was a piss-poor fighter, and her powers were proving ineffective. As for his nullifying abilities, they would do no good to protect Stella. The demons closing in on them were stronger than him. Much, much stronger.

Think Raphael, think.

He could use his magic—but he was hardly in control of it. If they managed to survive, then his secret would be exposed. It was the last thing he wanted. The Dark Court didn't have a good track record with hybrids.

"Why isn't it working?" Stella's voice pitched itself in panic.

"They're incorporeal, love," Raphael answered with surprising calm as certain death neared them.

"Incorporeal? What? How ? How is that even possible?" Her panicked rambling struck inspiration in him, but before he could share, she barreled on. "Okay, so… so we'll fight the old-fashioned way. I'll watch your back, and you watch mine."

"Forget about fighting," Raphael rushed to say, cupping Stella's face as a current of depression caressed his back. His jaw clenched to fight off the visceral misery it laved on him. "Do you trust me?" he choked out.

"I—" her voice wobbled.

"Do you trust me, Stella?" Raphael demanded. She whimpered, her gaze flicking back to the demons. "Don't look at them. Look at me." Stella reluctantly pulled her watery gaze back to him. "I won't let them hurt you," he swore. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded.

Determination stirred a fire in him. He dropped his hands to grab hold of one of hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand."

Confusion cascaded over her features, but Raphael ignored it as he concentrated on the darkness and the shadows. His world collapsed to shades of gray as his demonic sight bled into place. The only source of color pulsed in shades of muddied yellow and deep indigo from Stella, like her fear and despair was a physical bruise upon her. Barely visible behind the aura of her emotions was a sliver of shimmering gold aiming toward him.

Their soulmark.

Something feral and raw clicked into place inside of him at the sight. A need to protect her at all costs. Stella's confusion transformed to awe, and then, with a push of his will, he whisked them away into the Ether.

Stella's eyes widened in alarm at the dramatic change of scenery. One moment, they'd been in the hall, and the next, they were here. Wherever here was. A space that was devoid of anything except a stream of cool, ethereal fog from every direction.

"Where are we?"

His throat bobbed as he looked down at her. "We're in the Ether."

"The Ether?"

"It's… it's a special place for demons to travel as shades in their incorporeal forms."

Stella stared at him dumbly as a shiver racked her body. The cold didn't just seem to be around them but emanating from inside of her.

"You're not a shade now, though?" As she posed the question she squeezed down on his hand.

"I'm not a full demon. This place has always proved difficult for me to navigate, but we should be safe here from the assassins." At least for a short while . Raphael cast a harried glance about the lonesome gray space. His anxiety was palpable through the bond, but he returned the squeeze of her hand, clearly focused on keeping her calm. "This way."

Stella followed obediently, letting Raphael stay a step ahead as she kept her eyes peeled for the demons from the hall. She saw nothing, but couldn't shake the feeling they were being followed, or at the very least, watched. Stella squinted to see in the farther reaches of the fog. Vague dark figures moved about, seemingly oblivious to their presence.

"Where are we going?"

"To your death."

Stella jerked to a stop, and Raphael looked back at her in confusion.

"What did you just say to me?"

Raphael's brow furrowed. "I said— you're going to die here ."

Stella's mouth went dry as she weakly attempted to tug her hand out of Raphael's. That voice. It wasn't right. It wasn't his. "It's not real," she whispered to herself. Raphael faced her fully, cupping a cheek as he did before.

"What's not real?" He asked.

A breeze tickled Stella's neck before snaking up into her ears. She twisted her head too little too late to avoid its tainted touch. She gasped wildly as words suddenly filled her head.

" No one will miss you ."

" You're pathetic ."

" A waste of space ."

" Worthless ."

On and on and on the degradation went, but what made it so much worse was hearing the vitriol in her own voice. Raphael was trying to restrain her. Or she was trying to escape him—escape herself. Both. Neither. Her grip on reality fought to tear itself to shreds as her body and spirit rebelled.

Stella slammed her eyes shut. She was certain her insides were freezing. A terrible numbness was encasing her in ice, and the only way she could stop it was to rip herself apart until nothing was left but the vile whispers plaguing her.

Then, the assault cut off.

Shock reverberated through her, leaving her body to shake like some frail leaf in autumn's wind. The only thing that wasn't shaking was her head, which Raphael held in his hands. There was no sound now. No thoughts. Only a grave and unsettling terror trying valiantly to takeover her very marrow.

Raphael held her eyes, thumbs ghosting near her temples in small circles, while most of his palms covered her ears. The distress on his face carried straight through the bond. It wasn't the only thing she felt from him. A steady pulse of warmth came through their bond. Slow and concentrated, it chased away the biting cold ravaging her insides.

Their eyes stayed locked until the very last vestiges of cold were chased away. A slight pant painted his lips as he began to pull his hands from hers. Stella's panic was immediate, but Raphael was there to meet it. Another wave of warmth bashed the fear away, leaving her strangely calm. She stared at him in wonder.

"I've got your back," Raphael assured her.

Stella blinked as a different kind of heat engulfed her. One of her heart's making. "I've got your back too," Stella whispered hoarsely back.

A small smile formed on Raphael's lips that stole Stella's breath away. She'd never seen that smile before. One that was so unguarded and genuine. "I'd be a fool to pass on having the Dark Court's renowned banshee on my side." He tugged at a strand of white hair framing her face, then said with more gravity, "If the infernals go after you again, squeeze my hand." Raphael laced their fingers together once more. "I can block them."

"How?"

His smile lessened. A vulnerability lingered in his regard, but he didn't build up a wall to hide it. "Some half-demon power I inherited." Raphael shrugged then began to move again with Stella in tow. "It's not something many know about, but I can nullify lesser demon attacks when they're aimed at an individual, so long as I stand between them and the demon," Raphael explained.

Stella stared at his back in astonishment. "That's an impressive power."

He spared her another of his small smiles before leading them on with purpose. Their pace was faster the second time around, but Raphael's direction was more indecisive. Twice they turned around or went sharply in a different direction. Stella couldn't discern where he was taking them, or what he was looking for. Every few seconds, he would survey the misty plane as if he trying to find something.

Stella kept a tight hold on his hand, focusing on the constant stream of comfort he offered through the bond. It helped her ignore how the distant shadows now seemed to be following them out of her peripheral.

Stella cleared her throat. "What are infernals exactly? They aren't the same as what cornered us in the hall, are they?"

"Those were demon assassins," Raphael confirmed. "Infernals are demons who've died in this plane and turned themselves into their malevolent thoughts. They feed on the weak." Raphael came to an abrupt halt and spun to face her. Guilt covered his features. "You're not weak."

She cringed. "But they fed on me, didn't they?"

"I didn't prepare you. If I had warned you to keep your mental guard up, it wouldn't have happened. You're a different woman than you were a few weeks ago, Stella. Surely, you see that?"

Stella swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to look away. "I guess."

He frowned at her flimsy assertion and grabbed her chin between his forefinger and thumb. " You are ."

Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth. It was difficult to summon her newfound confidence after the mental assault. She was shaky, and the viperous thoughts lingered. Stella swallowed and took in a breath. She would try for him, and herself.

"I am. I'm strong."

Raphael nodded and let go of her chin. They walked on, side by side, with the shadows lurking ever closer. Stella steeled herself against the intrusive thoughts that threatened to derail her, her faith in herself reignited by Raphael. She stole a veiled glance at him.

Of all the people to champion her... from dragging her down with cruel words—setting her up for so much more than failure with Gabriel—to this . This vulnerability and show of faith and comfort were the last things she ever expected from him.

Her heart had never felt more confused as the logical side of her jumped to point out the culprit—the soulmark.

Raphael needs you to stay alive. If you die, he's as good as dead , it reasoned.

He doesn't have to be kind to keep you alive and he is , her heart argued.

"So," Stella began, trying to outrun the inner conflict battling inside her. "You said infernals die here. But die from what? There's nothing here."

"They, er, kill themselves. The Ether is a place void of time and space, making it easy to become lost. That's when the infernals strike. They attack your mind and pray off your deepest fears and insecurities. Essentially, they drive you—"

"Mad." Oh Gods. "They make you want to tear yourself apart. Literally."

Raphael nodded somberly. "If you stay strong in here,"—He reached over and tapped her heart—"And here,"—his hand rose, and the backs of his knuckles grazed her temple—"the infernals can't get to you. If they somehow got past those now, you have me."

Stella cracked a smile. "I guess it's a good thing to have a half-demon on your side."

The pair slowed to a stop as their gazes met. Although Raphael's expression was unreadable, she could practically see the whirl of thoughts clashing behind his eyes and feel the turbulent rush of his emotions transfer through the soulmark bond.

Her heart began to race. Raphael turned toward her, and Stella found herself doing the same until they stood only inches apart.

"Good thing to have a soulmark." There it was again. That vulnerability. This tender side of Raphael left her off-kilter. "I'm sorry to have dragged you into this," he continued. "The assassins, I'm sure they were sent after me for failing my mission."

"Or me," Stella offered and found her lips quirking into a small teasing smile. "Because you failed your mission."

A lightness entered his eyes. Stella watched as his throat bobbed, and then his hand rose, and his knuckles grazed her cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you," he swore softly. Stella's heart skipped a beat, and her bottom lip found its way back between her teeth. Raphael's stare jumped down to watch.

Almost imperceptibly, he started to lean forward. Stella found herself rising on her toes to meet him. She could almost forget where they were and the dangers they faced.

Raphael's gaze, so fastidiously glued to her mouth, flicked to the side. His pupils dilated as they locked onto something behind her back.

"Get down and don't move."

He said the words while shoving her down to the floor. The Ether's fog plumed around her like a mushroom cloud. Stella coughed as she swallowed a lungful of it. Above her, Raphael let out a curse. Her gaze shot up. His torso was twisted to the side, showing off a line of crimson that now stained his chest and part of his bicep. The sharp, yet phantom pain was quick to emerge on her chest and bicep, courtesy of their bond.

"Raphael!"

"Stay down, Stella."

Raphael hissed another curse, Stella only a second behind him with her cry of pain, as his torso violently angled in the other direction. Stella spied the cause. A shining black arrowhead with a body and tail of smoke cut through the air mere centimeters from Raphael's twisted torso. Red glistened on its bladed edge.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Infernals."

Fear and adrenalin rushed through Stella. She looked around as best she could, rising on her knees to see over the re-thickening fog. Five shadowed figures swayed in eerie synchronicity around them. Stella's gaze stuck on the one at Raphael's back and her front. Its chest was concaved where its heart ought to be in a mesmerizing vortex. Stella caught a glimpse of shining obsidian forming inside it and reached blindly for Raphael.

"Down, now!"

He didn't hesitate to follow her demand, dropping down to all fours right next to her.

"I thought you said they were nothing more than malevolent thoughts," Stella accused.

"Clearly, I was wrong."

They glared at one another for only a heartbeat before a murmur-soft whoosh permeated the air. Raphael hissed through his teeth, a hand rushing to his side as Stella released a pained whimper. Blistering cold pierced her side. She looked down to see the damage. There was nothing to be found, even though this strike felt far more real than the last.

She looked to Raphael. He gripped the arrowhead, or what he could of it, with blood spilling profusely from his side, and yanked. Stella's jaw dropped in a wordless scream before a pitiful groan came out instead. She watched in horror as the solid arrowhead vanished to nothing.

"How?" she breathed.

Raphael grimaced, face losing color. "I don't know."

"What do we do?"

"Just… stay behind me. I'll protect you."

"But you're—" Raphael was already pushing to his feet, one hand clamped to the gushing wound at his side. Stella knew she should have felt an echoing pain through their bond, but it was suddenly much duller than before. Even the warmth he'd so consistently fed her through the bond was missing.

Before she knew it, panic rooted inside her again.

" You'll never escape this pain ."

" Your family will be so relieved when you're gone ."

"Raphael." Stella tried putting her hands over her ears, but the vitriol kept coming. His powers of nullification only work for the lesser demons he can put himself in front of. Which meant she was completely exposed to the infernal at his back. Her mouth went dry, and her hands found their way into her hair. She began to shake as her nails dug into her scalp unbidden. The only thing she could control was her breathing, and even that was getting away from her. "Raphael, please."

" You'll never amount to anything ."

" Everyone's better off without you ."

"Don't let them in, Stella. You know how to fight them. I believe in you."

Stella glanced up at him. He was dodging arrows left and right as they appeared in faster sequence. A look of concentration bore his features into a severe frown.

She jolted as a victory whoop leaped out of his mouth, his latest dodge resulting in an obsidian arrow finding its mark in another Infernal. The ghoulish demon howled as it retreated into the fog. Raphael spared Stella a grin, and hope flickered to life in her chest.

" You're weak ."

Her flame wavered, but it didn't go out. Not real, she told herself.

She was strong. Stronger than anyone gave her credit for, herself included. Stella took a deep breath and loosed it in a long stream as she steeled her nerves. Raphael was putting his trust and faith in her right now to hold her own. Not only that, he was shielding her from his pain and maybe even his fears so she could find her strength herself.

"Shit."

Stella's eyes caught the sudden appearance of crimson that appeared just below Raphael's eye before he wiped it away with the back of his hand. Stella didn't fail to note that the smirk of victory was long gone from his face. Still, he moved with lightning agility to use the same trick and send another Infernal running.

The problem was the infernals seemed to understand this. Their attacks came two at a time now, making Raphael's movements far more precarious.

Stella swallowed thickly.

She promised to have his back, and if this was their end, she wasn't going to go down with a whimper but a roar. A smile fit for the gallows drew up her lips. Well, more like a scream.

"What are you doing? Get down before you're hurt."

Too late. The moment Raphael finished speaking an arrowhead sliced the side of Stella's neck. Raphael's eyes widened. He grabbed her by the arms and tried guiding her back down, but she resisted. The pain didn't register.

"Do you trust me?" She asked, grabbing onto his arms as well. Raphael gave her a pained look, then spun them around as an arrowhead whipped past them. Stella found herself being held in a dramatic dip. "Do you trust me?" She repeated more urgently.

"Yes."

Raphael yanked her close to him, and both their eyes chased after the arrowhead meant for Stella's head.

"Then get behind me." Another timely twist and he was. "And cover your ears."