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“What are you doing?” Victus shook his head, blood trickling down his temple. “We had a deal.”
Asmodeus kicked a boot on Victus’s shoulder, shoving him back to keep him upright to face him. “A king never kneels but you look good on your knees, Victus. And we did have a deal until I found out all the secrets you’ve been hiding.”
“He has no secrets.” My heart pounded.
What did Asmodeus know? I might have made a mistake in aiding Victus’s side. I couldn’t act rashly or say anything to displease the demon. Zander was my best chance in bringing him down.
“Deal with Victus later, free Zander now.” I used the demanding tone of a Seraphim.
Asmodeus ever so slowly curled his lips and shoved Victus back down on all fours. Victus snarled, but he made no move. He must have internal injuries and needed time to recover.
Anger seared through my blood. No answer from Asmodeus meant he was going to hold Zander hostage longer or not free him at all.
I itched to grab the dagger inside my boot but I needed something more formidable when I fought the soldiers. Between ten soldiers around Zander and forty more spread out, it would take a miracle to take them down on my own. I needed the divine sword.
I gauged the distance to the table, where Levia remained beside an unconscious Nadira.
Asmodeus said, “Don’t think about it, Eva. The sword is not even worth your life. It’s ridiculous you carry that thing like it’s the greatest weapon when you hold one inside you.”
What did he mean?
Zander yanked at the chains holding him hostage. They clanked against the casket beside him. “Don’t go there, demon. I’m warning you.”
Asmodeus gripped my arm and dragged me toward Nadira. “What do you know of the divine sword?”
I admired the power that radiated from the simple blade on the table where I had left it. “Why are you going in circles? Free Zander now and let the little girl go. You have the Gate Key, so do what you will with the world.”
“Who gave you this sword?” Asmodeus picked it up and ran a hand down its smooth handle.
“Zander did. It’s from one of the archangels. He had asked Zander to personally hand it to me.”
“Did he now?” The sly grin on his face sent shivers down my back. “This special weapon is the only thing that can truly kill an archangel and Seraphim, right? So what about this key?” He took out the dagger Victus had given him from his waistband and pointed it toward my chest. “This is the divine dagger and the Gate Key. Your sword is not so divine.”
I swallowed hard and took a step back, shaking my head.
“Since you don’t believe me, why don’t we see if what you claim about your sword is true.”
He had distracted me by throwing a glance toward Zander but at the same time his arm pushed forward with the sword extended, impaling through my abdomen.
I convulsed as golden blood smeared on my dark leather battle suit and dripped down to the stone ground.
“No!” Zander hollered, a guttural, piercing sound.
No, not Zander, but Victus, who was crawling on all fours. He collapsed then pushed himself up, then fell, then up again as if determined to reach me.
Zander trembled in rage, the chains rattling, but the noise sounded so far away. I stumbled backward as the room spun, but I didn’t blow up and turn to ashes, not yet anyway.
I grabbed the handle with my trembling hands and yanked out the sword. More blood gushed out as I dropped to my knees. Victus scrambled toward me and held me in his arms.
“I’m … sorry,” I coughed up blood. “Take …your girl … and run.” I wanted to tell him I knew Nadira was his daughter and he was a great father, but I wasn’t supposed to know and I didn’t want Asmodeus to hear me.
The world around me faded as I teetered on the edge of death, suspended in a vast ocean of nothingness. The pain, sorrow, and joy that had engulfed my life up until this point were all forgotten. The only thing that mattered was I had been kind to others, lived honestly, and done good in this world.
Victus whispered, tension evident in his voice, “Hold on, Little Dove. If I know my brothers, reinforcements are coming.”
Victus had always called me feathered being. So why was he calling me Little Dove? A slip of his tongue? But in a strange way, Victus saying my nickname sounded tender and loving compared to when Zander said it.
“Back away from her.” Asmodeus held the dagger against Nadira’s throat, who was still unconscious. “Now.”
