Chapter 36

CHAPTER36

The burst of light spat me out into another kind of gloom. I stumbled in the semi-darkness until my ghostly eyes adjusted—however that worked in this form—and then I looked around, taking stock.

I was standing in a small cave of some sort, slanted walls of concrete or stone on all sides, with light filtering through cracks here and there. It looked like…like a half collapsed room? I squinted at one of the walls. Yes, this seemed like it was a building that had come down due to an earthquake or something.

Or, you know, a cataclysmic event like Armageddon.

From somewhere outside, sirens blared in the distance.

There was a slightly bigger opening on one side, and as I tilted my head, I realized there were tracks of blood on the ground leading through the opening inside, like someone injured or dead had been dragged here.

My gaze followed the tracks to a dark corner—and I jumped at the sight of the body sprawled there.

His wings were shredded. His legs bent at an unnatural angle. One arm was missing, the other maimed.

And his face…it took me a moment. But underneath the blood and the strips of skin hanging off were the sharp cheekbones, the strong jaw…and when he opened his eyes, emerald green glared at me.

“How?” Inachiel rasped. “How did you—” He coughed, blood spilling from the wounds on his chest. “Come out?”

I balled my hands into fists, nausea and anger mixing in my stomach. “I remembered that I have some power of my own.”

He coughed again, foam bubbling at his mouth.

“What happened to you?” I asked, frowning at his sorry state. He’d been more than fine when he’d stuffed me in the box.

“What’s it look like?” Inachiel’s eyes sparked with fury.

“Like you tried to fuck a lawn mower!” I snapped, my willingness to play stupid games at an all-time low. “Obviously, you had a fight with an angel or whatever, but didn’t the deal go through? Is the war still on?” I tried to peer out of one of the slits between the walls of concrete.

“There is a new truce,” Inachiel croaked.

My knees almost buckled with my relief. It had worked! The world wouldn’t burn to cinders, no more humans perishing as collateral damage in a supernatural war. I thought of my aunt, living not far from here, and of Taylor on the other side of the world. Had there been fighting in Australia as well? Who knew if maybe demons had streamed out of all existing hellgates to wreak havoc on humanity? I had to find out if Tay was all right, if my aunt in Philadelphia had been spared.

“Lucifer ordered us to retreat,” Inachiel continued, pulling my attention back to him. “Angels withdrew as well. Came a bit late for me, though. Last fight ended badly. I killed the fucker, but he got me good.” More coughing. His entire body spasmed. “Dragged myself here to hide. Then the order to retreat came through. By then, I couldn’t move anymore.”

I studied him again. He wasn’t healing here, due to being on Earth, just like Azazel hadn’t healed right earlier.

Earlier.

I swallowed hard, my heart galloping in my chest. “How much time has passed? How long have you been here?”

Another coughing fit seized him, and I was about ready to shake him, too.

“A day?” he mused, his voice hoarse. “Two? I think there was at least one sunset and sunrise, but it’s hard to say. The sky’s still full of smoke and ash.”

Two days?

I flinched, tunneling my hands through my hair and pulling. Two days! Oh my God, this was the longest I’d ever been on Earth in spirit form. Was I still connected to my body? Had I died?? How would I even know?

And where was Azazel?

I ran to the opening and peered outside. Ruins all around, sirens echoing over the piles of rubble, distant shouting from what I guessed to be first responders and cleanup crews.

I was this close to yelling Azazel’s name when it occurred to me that maybe drawing attention to me like this wasn’t a good idea. Yes, the war was over and a new truce in place, but that didn’t mean there might not be some rogue angels or demons with less-than-kind intentions toward me—see exhibit A, currently dying in the cave-in behind me.

If I ran into the wrong sort of demon with a bone to pick with Azazel, and they recognized me as his wife, I’d slide right into the next messy situation.

All right, so what? I’d just have to wait for Azazel to find me? When the clock was already ticking for me with regard to losing the connection between my body and mind?

Ugh, what other choice did I have? Maybe I could at least make it to the spot where we’d been separated.

I clenched my jaw and looked around. I had no idea where I was. I’d known my way around Manhattan from the summer I’d spent here as a teen, but these streets were now unrecognizable, only ghostly remains of buildings, broken and shattered stone and metal jutting out into the cloudy sky like grotesquely huge, gray teeth.

Wait. My gaze zeroed in on a scorched item lying amid the debris. I stepped closer and squinted at the green sign with the white letters on it, barely visible under the soot.

E 14 St.

I did some mental math, excavating the memorized map of Manhattan from the depths of my mind.

“What?” I exclaimed when I figured it out.

We weren’t just one or two blocks out from the library where it all started—14th street was almost thirty city blocks away from where Azazel had last seen me.

Shit. I’d have to make it there somehow. Chances were greater he’d find me again in the vicinity of the battle center. I’d just have to be careful and look out for any marauding demons.

“Zoe.”

The rasped cry from inside the cave-in made me pause.

Cautiously, I peeked back inside. Inachiel’s eyes glinted in the faint light coming through the opening. He took a deep breath, his chest rattling.

“Don’t,” he said in a voice reminiscent of rusted metal breaking. “Don’t leave me here to die.”

I narrowed my eyes, my nostrils flaring. “The nerve of you. You kidnapped me to torture me and use me for ransom, and now that you’re one step away from death, you have the gall to ask me for mercy?”

Red-tinged foam bubbled around his mouth as he implored me with bloodshot eyes. “Please. I beg you. Help me.”

I glared at him, gripping the sides of the opening hard, still crouching at a distance to where he lay. “Tell me,” I asked, a strange sense of calm washing through me, “what would you do in my position? Would you help your enemy—the one who wanted to harm you just moments ago—or would you let them die?”

I already knew the answer—no demon worth their salt would let an enemy live if the opportunity to be rid of them presented itself so clearly.

“I’d save them,” Inachiel rasped.

“Bullshit. You’d revel in their death. Living with you lot has taught me that, if nothing else.”

He shook his head, struggling to breathe. “You still have more to learn. When I save them, they will owe me a blood debt. An almost unrepayable favor. What is worth more than souls in Hell?”

“Favors,” I murmured.

“And do we ever break a vow?”

I lifted my chin. “No.”

At least, not without consequences, and from what I’d gathered, the magical ramifications for demons reneging on their word were severe.

“Save me,” Inachiel pleaded. “Help me get to a hellgate. I will owe you my life. That is a rare debt to hold over a demon’s head. Don’t dismiss it too easily.” He licked his lips, urgency threading his voice. “You need help, too, don’t you? You’re looking for Azazel, and you need to get home. I know where the nearest hellgate is. Once I’m in Hell, I’ll be healing, and I can take you back to your estate.”

I worried my lip, considering. Helping him move would cost me time. I still remembered how hard it was to drag Azazel when he was unconscious. On the other hand, the way through the hellgate with Inachiel might still get me back into my body faster. Who knew how long I’d otherwise have to wait for Azazel?

Plus, the favor owed would be a big advantage.

“All right.” I stepped inside. “I’ll help you, for a blood debt and your assistance once we’re in Hell.”

He gave me a smile of red-stained teeth. “Thank you. Lucifer bless you.”

“I’d rather he didn’t,” I murmured as I approached Inachiel. “Can you move at all? It’ll be difficult to drag you. How far is the hellgate?”

With a wet gurgling breath, he heaved himself up into a sitting position, not an easy feat with only one arm and broken legs. “If you prop me up under my shoulder, I can take enough weight on my legs and give boosts with my wings to make the trek. The hellgate is only one block from here.”

I eyed his wings. They looked like someone stamped confetti out of them. They didn’t have enough feathers left to fly, but maybe they could really take off some of the weight if he flapped them.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

I ducked under his arm and half hoisted him over my shoulder, my ghostly muscles straining as I pushed us both off the ground.

The first steps were horrible, a mess of stumbling, lurching, and careening into walls until we’d made it out of the cave-in and onto the debris-strewn street.

“Left,” Inachiel croaked.

“To the left, to the left,” I sang under my breath, unable to halt my brain’s singular ability to start playing songs on repeat after a one-word prompt. I was sure Beyoncé never envisioned someone would be humming one of her songs in the aftermath of the apocalypse while dragging an injured demon back to Hell.

But hey, I’d rather focus on a good tune than on the fact my soul might be separating from my body at any moment, or the uncertainty of not knowing where Azazel was and if we’d ever get to see each other again before I turned into a ghost forever.

“You,” Inachiel huffed out, “are weird.”

“Says the one who sleeps with an army of stuffies.”

He tensed against me. “What?”

“Oh, unbunch your panties. I know, and I don’t give a fuck. I’m just saying you shouldn’t go around judging people for little eccentricities when you most certainly have some of your own.”

His response was a wet croak that might have been a laugh.

We kept on moving down what was left of the street, skirting around large pieces of the toppled buildings on either side. Every once in a while, I had to pause, not necessarily to catch my breath, as I didn’t need to truly breathe in this form, but I nevertheless somehow felt exhausted. Every step seemed like torture.

“How much…farther?” I asked as I strained to hold him up.

“It’s over there.” He pointed at what might have been the entrance to an alley, now a smallish opening between columns of ruins.

Okay, only a few more steps.

Finally, we stood right in front of it. I dropped him like a hot potato, unable to carry him any further. From his position on the ground, Inachiel drew the symbols in the air, and the hellgate activated with a shimmer.

My shoulders sagged with relief. It was almost over. As soon as we were inside, Inachiel would heal, and it wouldn’t take long for him to be strong enough to take me home. And maybe we’d even find other help, depending on where this hellgate led.

Of course, there was the risk that it might belong to a demon who was at odds with Azazel, but it was still my best bet.

“Help me cross,” Inachiel said on a rattle. “I can’t make it on my own.”

“Dude, I can’t carry you anymore. I have no idea why, but this ghost form gets muscle cramps, and my legs feel like jelly right now. Best I can do is roll you over and give you a good kick.”

Inachiel, lying on his back, stared blankly toward the sky. “This is beyond undignified.”

I leaned down and patted his shoulder. “There, there. Thoughts and prayers. Now get ready. On three—one, two, three.”

And with a grunt of exertion, I rolled him over, toward the glowing hellgate, and then kicked him in his back to give him the last push to make it through the glimmering portal.

I can’t say that it wasn’t satisfying, in a way.

The hellgate swallowed Inachiel with a flash of light.

I was about to follow him when a shadow passed over me. The energy crashed into me before he did. Familiar, warm, vibrating with concern and relief and the acidic bite of fear, it engulfed me mere seconds before a large body tackled me to the ground.

I grunted from the impact, my fall broken by soft wings that had wrapped around my back, and then Azazel’s arms crushed me to him with enough force that I’d have struggled for breath in my physical form.

As it was, I only hugged him back as the pent-up worry and adrenaline suddenly ebbed in a rush that left me dizzy. A sob broke from me.

“You’re here,” I whispered against his neck. “You found me.”

He pulled back enough to pin me with eyes of churning clouds and lightning. “I promised I’d come for you.” He laid his hand on my cheek. His fingers trembled. “I’ve been looking for you for days. I kept searching for you because I refused to believe you were—” He broke off, the muscles in his throat working. Instead of finishing his sentence, with the terrifying assumption that stood behind it, he claimed my lips in a kiss that voiced all he’d been through, all he’d felt.

My heart split open at the profound pain I tasted.

“I’m here,” I murmured against his mouth when he withdrew. “I’m okay.”

My fingers caressed the planes of his face, traced the lines of his lips while my eyes drank him in, his expression so raw and vulnerable, his heart laid bare before me.

“Let’s go home,” I said, feeling the press of time upon me. “Everything else can wait.”

He nodded and pulled me up to standing, shaking out his wings. “This hellgate leads to a neighboring territory. I’ll fly us home as fast as possible.”

I wanted to say okay and hop on up into his arms—but pain slashed through me. Doubling over, I cried out, feeling a ripping sensation deep within, like someone had taken a hold of my soul and yanked hard.

“Zoe!” Azazel’s shout seemed to come from somewhere far away.

I staggered, feeling unmoored, unfastened, a tiny boat out at sea, drifting and spinning. Numbness took over where the pain had seared me before.

“What’s happening?” I whispered, holding my middle, one hand over my chest…where I felt the distinct lack of something that should have been there.

A thread, or a bond, or a…connection.

I raised my widened eyes to Azazel, who stared at me with an expression of shock and disbelief.

“No,” he said, and shook his head. “No.”

“Azazel…”

“No.”

“Am I…” I shivered despite the numbness spreading through me. “Has the connection between my soul and my body—”

“No.” He kept shaking his head, as if the gesture could ward off the truth of what had happened. As if his denial could make it undone.

We both knew better.

“What now?” My voice came out high and woven with fear, the stirrings of panic scattering my thoughts. “What do we do?”

“I’ll take you back home.” He grabbed my hand, determination hardening his features. “Your body’s still there. We can put you back, try to reforge the connection…”

“How?” Nausea crept up from my middle. I blinked against sudden wisps of darkness across my vision.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “We’ll figure it out.”

He swung me up into his arms and marched toward the hellgate a few feet away. My sight winked in and out of darkness. The world lost color all around me for a moment, everything flashing in black and white for the span of a heartbeat.

I looped my arms around his neck, and my gaze fell onto something on my forearm. I squinted at it. A crack? In my skin? My ghostly skin?

As I watched, it spread. One crack became a web of fissures. In one spot, a piece of my skin peeled off and fell away as ash, darkness pulsing underneath.

“Azazel,” I whispered, horror seizing my soul.

He paused in drawing the sigils for the hellgate and looked down on me.

His face fell.

Raw, unfiltered devastation suffused his energy. “This is impossible.”

“What’s going on?” I fought to form the words, my mouth feeling weird, my thoughts skipping away from me.

He swallowed hard, his voice a harsh whisper. “You’re turning.”

“Into…what?”

His eyes, wild and pained, met mine. “A wraith.”