Chapter 16

Iwoke with a headache from Hell.

Blearily, I opened my eyes, groaning at the spike of pain that shot through my skull at the light hitting my pupils, as if someone shoved an ice pick into my brain.

“Oh,” a voice spoke from somewhere to my right. “You’re awake.”

With a grimace, I sat up, wincing at another ice pick attack to my cerebral tissue, and turned my head.

Bifiel stood on the other side of our shared room, her arms crossed and a put-out expression on her angelic face. “How?” she asked.

“How what?” I grunted, swinging my legs over the side of my bed.

Everything spun precariously for a moment, and I grabbed the edge of the mattress hard and breathed through the bout of dizziness.

“How,” Bifiel snarled, “did you manage to catch a demon?”

My stomach hollowed out, the room swaying around me as the events right before I’d lost consciousness came barreling back to the forefront of my mind.

Along with a quick-fire succession of other long-suppressed memories.

Azazel’s smile as he pulled me to him, his black wings wrapping around me.

Taylor’s laugh.

Mephisto’s “gifts.”

My dad’s ghostly form, his hands in his pockets as he waited for me on the front porch of his home, a self-deprecating smile on his face.

Lilith’s blood-dripping fist after she’d yanked a piece of her power out of her own chest to give to me.

Lilith’s power… I gasped at the realization. That was what had saved me there in the cave when Aziel—Azazel—had lost control of his demon power. Just like before, the kernel of her essence she’d bestowed upon me had protected me in a time of need.

But that meant…that meant…my transformation into an angel hadn’t excised that part of her from me. It was still there, fused with my soul, apparently so inextricably linked with my own essence that it had survived my ascension. Well, if it was truly part of my soul now, it figured that it would remain, since it was the immortal soul that was turned into an angel, the new body crafted from it.

“It’s not fair,” Bifiel seethed, snapping me back to the here and now.

I grudgingly focused on my idiot roommate. “That you only have one brain cell, and it’s not enough to operate both your thoughts and your mouth at the same time? I agree.”

Her eyes promised murder. Not that I gave a flying fuck. I’d faced down Lucifer himself and had come out whole on the other side. A snippy roommate was a blip on the radar in comparison to that.

“Of all the angels who could be blessed with the honor of apprehending a demon trespasser in Heaven, it had to be you? You?” She balled her hands into fists. “You don’t deserve the accolades, let alone the promotion!”

My brows drew together, the aftershocks of my headache making me flinch. “Promotion?”

“They made you a throne!”

I blinked and jerked back. A throne? That was two whole ranks above a virtue, just one rank below a cherub.

My mouth agape, I turned my focus inward, felt for my innate power…and gasped at the strong current I found. It was like my blood and my very soul were newly infused with breathtaking force, flowing through me in a steady throb of magic.

My skin started to glow. Wide-eyed, I held my hand out in front of my face, stunned by the silver shine of divinity all over my fingers, my palm, my wrist, and up my arm.

They’d bumped me up two ranks…because they thought I’d caught a demon.

Azazel.

The shine on my skin faded as if someone had turned off the lights. My stomach plummeted as nausea gripped me tight, and I choked on my own breath.

“You must be so thrilled,” Bifiel continued snidely, oblivious to my turmoil, “to be provided with your own suite now. I can’t believe I’ll be stuck here while you get to move out.”

“Where is he?” I rasped, lifting my gaze to her again. “The demon I caught. Where did they take him?”

“How should I know?” she bit out. “Not like I’m important enough to be told. I barely even found out the reason for your sudden promotion. As for the demon scum, wherever he is, I hope he rots. Nasty spawn of evil.” Her lip curled.

I was up on my feet, my hand around her throat, before she could blink. “Get the fuck out,” I growled.

Her fingers clawed at my hand, her eyes going wide. “But this is my room!”

With a snarl, I released my wings, along with a pulse of power through the hand holding her.

Bifiel squealed.

I leaned in, baring my teeth. “Seeing as I outrank you, virtue, I’d think it best that you heed my command. Leave.”

I shook her once, eliciting a gurgle, and then I shoved her toward the door.

Bifiel stumbled out and ran as if a hellhound snapped at her heels.

Hellhound… My heart pinched as I thought of Vengeance, and my aggressive bravado deflated. I remembered how she’d suffered during those days I’d been stuck in Lucifer’s palace, how even just a short absence like that had driven her to howling madness. I clutched my chest, my lip trembling. Eight years ago, I’d left her there in Hell, guarding my body…and I’d never come back.

Did she think I’d simply abandoned her? How long had she howled for me to return?

Through the tears swimming in my eyes, I saw the chest of drawers in the corner, and I sucked in a breath as it hit me. I ran over to it, yanked out the bottom-most drawer, and pulled out the box with shaking hands. Opening it, I lifted the tunic out, a sob catching in my throat at the sight of it…at the memory—finally—of whom this belonged to.

My fingers glided over the black material, my heart aching.

I remembered how he’d put this on. Back in his mansion in Hell, in our bedroom, just before we’d left to meet Lilith to go to Earth. I’d pulled him down for a kiss with my fingers hooked into the collar of this tunic. Had petted his chest over the fabric, smoothing out wrinkles.

Azazel.

That sob finally broke free. It hurt, burning through my lungs and my throat, hot tears streaming down my face. I wept with gasping, painful sobs, burying my face in his tunic that had long since ceased to smell like him. Wept into the one thing he’d given me to cling to in my new life, like a token of his intention to come for me.

And he’d come.

He’d done the impossible, had infiltrated Heaven—how?—risking life and limb for the chance to see me, to hopefully trigger my memories to return. He’d spent eight years setting this up, with undoubtedly single-minded focus and teeth-gritting determination. I knew him, knew that he would have pursued this goal with the kind of fierce ambition that could break worlds.

Only for everything to come crashing down, that ambition of his breaking him.

He’d risked it all, and he’d lost.

My hands crushed the tunic. Desolation swept through me, pulling me unerringly into an abyss of darkness.

No. He wasn’t lost yet. He’d been caught, but he was still alive. I knew enough about Heaven’s protocols and politics to be sure they wouldn’t immediately kill him.

First, they’d try to get information out of him. They’d need to determine whether he’d been sent by Hell or had acted on his own, because the answer to that question would decide if this was a singular instance of a rogue demon that could be handled without making a fuss or if it was an official incident that would threaten the truce between Heaven and Hell.

Not to mention they’d need to figure out how he’d been able to enter Heaven in the first place, a feat that should have been impossible for a demon. The gates wouldn’t let anyone pass who wasn’t an angel?—

My eyes widened as understanding struck me.

His angel heritage. I had no idea how, but he must have used it to fool the gates into letting him pass.

And thinking back to how he’d appeared to me as Aziel…there hadn’t even been a hint of his demon nature. All I’d felt from him was angelic energy.

So, clearly, using his angel side had done the trick to get him into Heaven.

Well, I knew that and he knew that, but unless the angels in charge of his arrest and trial got wise to the fact that he was half angel, they’d assume they had a huge security leak on their hands that might be taken advantage of by other demons in the future. As far as they knew, he might just be the vanguard, performing a trial run of this new way to invade Heaven. And once he was successful, the flaw in Heaven’s defenses could then be used by Hell to send an army.

Oh, yeah, the angels in charge absolutely had to figure this out. They’d put all their effort into making him spill the secret of how he’d gotten into Heaven and managed to bypass all security measures.

Which meant…they would torture the fuck out of him.

My chest drew tight, fear and worry pooling nauseatingly in my gut.

Angels or no, they’d have no qualms about using whatever means necessary to make him talk, and what I’d witnessed in that cave when they’d arrested him would be nothing compared to what they’d do to get him to confess.

I had to get him out. I had to help him escape if it was the last thing I did.

But how?

I was just one person, and I wasn’t at all powerful. I didn’t even know where they’d taken him! And even if I did, how in Heaven was I supposed to go about getting him out? I had no connections, no?—

On that thought, realization hit me like lightning.

Naamah.

My lips parted, hope blooming in my chest. She’d know what to do, wouldn’t she? She was his mother, she’d helped him with this, and she wouldn’t just stand by when her son got arrested, tortured, and threatened with execution. She’d definitely want to get him out of prison and out of Heaven, and with all her connections, she might just have the means to do it!

I’d go and seek her out immediately.

Underneath my fear and worry and the urgency driving me on, threads of confusion and uncertainty wove through me at the prospect of seeing Naamah again.

All this time, I’d thought she’d simply befriended me because she liked me, and I hadn’t questioned it further because she was known for her eccentric choice of acquaintances. But now, I couldn’t help wondering how much of her kindness and friendship had been an act, whether she’d meant anything she’d said, or if it had all been part of her plan to get close to me so she could monitor and prepare me for Azazel’s arrival.

Had she truly had fun with me? When we’d joked and laughed together, had her joy been real? Or had she played to my loneliness and need to have at least one good friend up here? Had she simply told me what I’d wanted or needed to hear in order to trust her?

Thinking about that caused a weird spike of betrayal within me.

Never mind if her intentions had been benevolent, she’d still deceived me. She’d been dishonest about why she’d sought me out.

Truthfully, it felt a special kind of shitty to be wondering if I’d only been a project to her. I was a socially awkward introvert, always had been, which meant I could count the number of real friends in my life on one hand. I cherished each and every one of those connections precisely because they were so rare, and they usually went deep. I wasn’t one to have casual friends—when I opened up to someone, I was all in.

And with Naamah, it had been like that, at least from my point of view. So to now be unsure if this friendship had actually been real poked at a tender part of me.

With a sigh, I turned to put the tunic back into the drawer. I could just ask her about it, I guessed. Though that was a conversation I wasn’t sure I was ready for. And besides, figuring out how to free Azazel took absolute precedence, which meant there likely wouldn’t be an opportunity to bring up any questions about the nature of our friendship.

I’d just deposited the tunic in its box when a knock sounded at my door.

With a jerk, I closed the drawer, then pivoted and called out, “Come in.”

The door opened—and Azrael stepped inside.

My breath froze in my lungs. I gaped at him with what must have been no doubt an expression that spelled out every single thing I was feeling, because the shock and raw emotion that rolled through me robbed me of any skill to regulate my facial features.

For years, I’d only known him as the angel who’d made me ascend—but now that my memory was back, my entire perception of him had changed. I stared at the one other person beside Naamah who’d been a regular contact for me up here and who’d hidden how they were related to me at the same time.

Thiswas Azazel’s father. The one who’d left him, who’d abandoned Naamah and his children, who’d dealt the man I loved the biggest wound of his life, the one who’d single-handedly driven Lucifer to raging madness over the treatment of his beloved daughter, which had resulted in Azazel being bullied and abused in his youth.

Azrael was all that—and also the angel who’d saved his son’s love against the rules of Heaven, who’d kept checking in on me, who’d been, for all intents and purposes, something of a mentor for me, who’d made me feel less alone in a world that was a constant challenge for me.

“Why?” I bit out through gritted teeth, my voice hoarse from strangled emotions.

Azrael stilled, doing that inhuman, eerie thing where he’d become so motionless that it was unnatural. It took him a moment to speak. “You remember.”

“Everything,” I rasped.

He exhaled heavily, closed his eyes, and then rubbed both hands over his face, the most human, most vulnerable gesture I’d ever seen him make.

Not that I gave a fuck.

“Why?” I repeated, balling my hands into fists. “All these years, all this time, all those moments you came to see me. Why? It’s not something you do for all the angels you make ascend because you feel responsible for them, is it?”

A deep breath, then: “No.”

“Then why me?” My nostrils flared. “You clearly couldn’t care less about your son, so I don’t think it was out of any concern for me with regard to what I mean to him.”

He clenched his jaw. “I did feel responsible for you. Not because I’d made you ascend—but for the memories I’d tried to preserve in you.”

I almost stumbled back a step, his words shocking me like a bucket of ice water to the face. “What?”

“I had to see if it would work,” Azrael said, his brows drawn together, his expression somewhat torn. “Had to make sure it wouldn’t have ill effects on you. And I needed to find out if maybe you’d remember…”

“But you said I’d never remember.” My voice was hollow. “Every time I asked you, you said it was impossible, that the memories get automatically deleted during the ascension.”

“I didn’t say you would never remember.” He tilted his head, his eyes darting to the side. “I only said that no human-turned-angel has ever regained their memories, which is true, that the mind wipe happens automatically during the transformation, which is also true for all other human ascensions, and that you should not pin your hopes on something that goes against the laws of nature. That, too, is the truth. I never lied.” His eyes met mine again, unfathomably deep and filled with a myriad of things I couldn’t begin to parse. “I didn’t dare tell you what I’d done before I knew that it had, in fact, worked. Just imagine your pain if I’d told you, but then we’d find out it didn’t take, and you’d been hoping forever for something that would never come to pass.”

I had a million things to say to that, but all I managed was a grunt and a twitch of my fingers as if to wrap around his throat.

“What I did,” Azrael said quietly, “had never been done before. There was no telling if I’d succeed. When I initiate the transformation from human to angel, I just provide the spark and then channel the power that performs the ascension. I have never before tried to interfere. I did not even know how to do it properly—there is no manual for this. I just…” He swallowed. “I just went into your mind and gathered it all up, pushed it far down, and then erected a shield so strong it might just survive the transformation.”

My hands now hung loosely at my sides as I stared at him, several emotions warring for dominance within me.

“I had no idea,” Azrael continued, “whether it had been enough. After your ascension, there was no way to easily verify if my efforts had been successful. I couldn’t very well enter your mind again to check, not now that you were an angel. So I had to keep seeing you, keep asking you—carefully—if you experienced any signs of your memory having survived…and returning.” Silver lightning flashed in his eyes, a mirror image of his son’s. “And now it has.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“I’d hoped you could tell me.” His look was inquisitive. “What has brought this on after all these years?”

I shook my head, my chest feeling punched through. “No. I mean, why did you preserve my memory?”

He shifted his weight, his eyes flicking from me to the floor, his throat muscles working as he swallowed several times. “Because he loves you.”

Slowly, my lips parted as I stared at him, processing what he’d said—and the things he didn’t, but which were clear in the silence beyond his words. “You do care for him.”

After all this time, after all the hurt and the strife and thousands of years of broken trust and shattered bonds, there was a part of him that gave a damn?

I gaped at him in utter bewilderment that swiftly turned to simmering indignation. Not for myself, but on behalf of the son he’d scorned for so long. “He won’t forgive you just because of this.”

“I know.” A sharp shake of his head. “That is not why—” He broke off and began again, “He already gave his forgiveness to me. For making you ascend. I don’t expect to be redeemed, Zoe.”

I winced a little at the fact that he now addressed me by this name, my true name, when I’d been used to him calling me Chaya for years.

“Some sins are too great.” Azrael looked to the side, his fingers fidgeting. “Some hurts too deep to be mended. I didn’t do it for me, to find redemption in any kind of forgiveness beyond the lip service he gave me when I forced him to. Which wasn’t right. I am looking back at a long life of not doing what was right while I was full of righteousness. I have never done anything for him, but I thought…if I could do this… If I could hold your memory here, for him, for you both, he might just have a chance. A second chance with you. And I don’t expect it to change anything for me and him, but it will be enough for me to know it changes everything for him and you. That he would find you one day, and you’d remember him.”

I swallowed hard, emotion choking me. He just had to go and do it, didn’t he? Had to be all layered and complex and too complicated a person to shove into a box of black-and-white when it would be all too easy to simply despise him for what he’d done to his family. And now I stood here, forced to grudgingly admit that I was still alive, with my memories intact, only because he’d at some point developed a conscience and had finally done right by his son.

I’d hated him on Azazel’s behalf ever since I’d heard the story, but now that hatred soured in my chest, softened by unbidden sympathy and a pensive kind of gratitude.

God, he couldn’t even do us the favor of remaining a loathsome asshole!

I wanted to strangle him.

“He did find me,” I said instead, my voice thick with the threat of tears. “He’s here.”

His complete lack of a reaction made me suck in a breath.

“You knew,” I muttered. “How?”

“You mentioned that you saw an angel who looked like me.” He raised a brow. “There’s only one explanation for that. I’d expected him to show up one day, though I wasn’t sure how he’d manage it. His angel heritage, I presume?”

“I guess so.” I pressed my lips together, my eyes clouding with a hot sheen of tears. “They caught him.”

Through my blurred vision, I saw Azrael flinch.

“That’s what triggered my memory to return,” I went on, fueled by a desperate idea. “He was discovered and arrested, and now he’s being held somewhere, and you have to help me get him out!”

He visibly recoiled.

“I need help to rescue him.” I stepped forward, my hands clenching and unclenching, fear and hope tangling inside me to form a combustive cocktail. Azrael’s assistance would significantly increase our chances for a successful rescue. “With your unique resources, we can easily get him out. We’ll make a plan together, and Naamah can?—”

“No.”

I jerked back as if slapped. “What?”

His physical form seemed to flicker in and out of sight. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” My brows drawn tight, I gaped at him. “You just told me you still cared about Azazel. You turned me into an angel against the rules, you preserved my memory, all to make amends and do something good for your son for once in your life, but you won’t help him get out of prison?”

He shook his head, his expression ravaged by something akin to agony. “I—this is different. I don’t?—”

“You can’t just leave him there!” My chest heaved as I sucked in a rage-filled breath. “You have to help us!”

“You are asking too much,” he rasped, panic in his gaze.

“Too much?” I spit out. “They might kill him! Once they’ve tortured him for information, they will likely execute him. I’m asking you to save his fucking life!”

Azrael looked at me with pain etched into the lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

And then he was gone.

Poof.

Vanished into thin air, the way he usually left, using his one-of-a-kind ability to move outside the constraints of physicality.

I stared at the spot where he’d stood just a second ago, unthinkable wrath boiling in my blood.

“You fucking coward!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, knowing he wouldn’t even hear it. Knowing he was already far, far away, his awareness likely scattered on Earth.

And just like that, I hated him again, any softer emotion obliterated, all understanding shattered to dust.

My skin glowed so brightly it reflected off the white stone walls. Inside me seethed such rage, such unspeakable fury, that I wanted to lay waste to this entire building. My hands shook, my power trembling violently, sparks of lightning firing off my still-present wings.

With a scream, I unleashed my energy, gave in to my wrath, and let it all out.

Light exploded out of me, silver flashes scoring the walls, leaving scorched lines like dark veins in the white stone. The walls cracked. The floor beneath my feet split open in a hairline fissure, and the smell of ozone filled the room. My bed was nothing but smoking rubble, the windowpane shattered, the door to the bathroom torn off its hinges. It fell down with a resounding thunk.

Breath heavy, I stared at the destruction I’d caused, my blood barely cooled, the need for an outlet still pulsing in every beat of my heart.

And the only thought running through my head as I dashed outside and launched into the sky was that I finally understood how and why Azazel had repeatedly reduced entire rooms to cinders in his rage.