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A sound that was a cross between a sob and a scream of anger tore out of him as he staggered to his feet, jaw clenched tight. Blood dribbled from his lips, and he spat out a mouthful of it, teeth and gums red.
As soon as he stood, he fell back to his knees, catching himself with a hand braced on the blood-soaked ground before him.
He took this second to breathe; to gather his bearings.
Smoke, dust, and noxious fumes choked the tunnels. Small fires burned throughout, the demon corpses and cardboard boxes having lit up with flames from the explosion. Darien couldn’t tell if the horde of demons that had pushed through minutes ago had died from the grenade and were now dead on this floor, or had made it past him and the others and into the tunnels.
His family and friends were alive, thank the gods. Everyone was alive, but beaten down and filthy. One by one, they pushed themselves to their feet and checked in on each other. Their survival was a small miracle Darien clung to, even as Death beckoned to him, a tempting offer he was having trouble refusing as pain knifed through every limb.
So much pain. There was too much of it, and as he listened to the beating of his heart, the time between each pulsation grew. Grew and grew, and as his heartrate slowed, he began to drift…
When he blinked, eyelids crusted with blood and dust, he saw a great tree. A tree and a river. They were two separate images that did not belong together, as if someone had ripped two photographs in half and taped the mismatching pieces together.
It was the river he focused on. The river that bled into an ocean. A never-ending ocean with a beach of white sand that sparkled under sunlight, as if it were made of diamond fragments. White-capped waves lapped against the shore. There were gulls too. And palm trees. Darien had always loved palm trees, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was all the surfing he used to do with his mom. Sometimes Ivy would go too. He could stay out on those sun-warmed waves for hours—
“Darien.” Someone was shaking him where he knelt. The voice was deep, and in his delirium, Darien didn’t recognize it.
The river was still there. It was so beautiful, Darien found himself wanting to follow it.
But something was missing. A face more beautiful than the river; more beautiful than the wide, wide ocean; more beautiful than the clearest blue. More beautiful than anything.
He tried to go back. Tried to look for her—
“Darien,” the voice said again.
Darien swayed in place. A pair of rough hands on his shoulders held him upright. When Darien managed to focus his bleary eyes, he saw a second person crouching before him, his face so similar to his own. Was he looking in a mirror?
No. That was Travis. But it wasn’t Travis who was speaking. It was Malakai.
“Darien,” the Reaper was saying. Another blink to clear his eyes, and Darien glimpsed the lower half of Malakai’s face, silver canines showing when he spoke. “What happened here?”
When Darien blinked again, the last of the ocean and the river washed away, and he was back in the hazy tunnels, sucking down ragged breaths hindered by all the blood in his throat, a thick web of it that wouldn’t go down, no matter how many times he swallowed.
Most of the Reapers were here. Malakai, Aspen, Jewels. Valen and Sylvan. Brodie and Macen. While some guarded the Veil, others helped up Devils and Angels, checking to see if they were okay.
Jewels was tending to Conrad. She stood at the Angel’s back, examining his wings. One of them was twisted in a way that suggested it was broken, but the Angel was just as stubborn as Darien, and would continue to fight through the pain.
Aspen was holding onto Lace, keeping her on her feet, the latter appearing as spent as Darien felt.
Tanner had both hands braced against the far wall, head bowed, arms shaking as he retched, vomiting onto the ground. Jack and Ivy were with him, the latter attempting to settle his heaving with a hand on his back, her mouth forming words of comfort.
Raw magic was a son of a fucking bitch, and that blast had nearly done them all in.
“He alive?” Sylvan’s booming voice filled the tunnels, the volume making Darien wince.
“Barely,” Darien slurred. With a push of his legs, the action nearly costing him all the strength he had left, he staggered to his feet.
“Careful,” Travis said, his voice far away as he helped Darien find his balance, a hand gripping his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” Darien managed, though he winced as he said it, the sound of his own voice unbearably loud.
With a roll of his aching shoulders, he walked over to where Valen and Brodie were guarding the Veil. Travis stayed at his side, limping with every step. He assumed his position at Darien’s left.
Darien glanced at his cousin. “Trav—”
“If you’re fine, I’m fine,” Travis said, facing the gate. His eyes flicked to Darien’s face. “You look like shit, cous.”
A smirk ghosted across Darien’s mouth. “So do you.” He looked over his shoulder to see the others forming a new line behind them, Ivy gritting her teeth in pain. “Sis,” he said. “You okay?”
