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“I’m sorry,” I said.
Carlisle looked at me. “For what?”
“For not stopping more of them,” I said. “We tried, and the fields around the gates were four deep in bodies, but they just didn’t stop coming and we were overwhelmed.”
“We can only play our part,” said Carlisle. “And however much we regret it, sometimes that part is only a small one in the grand scheme of things.”
“We should have killed more,” I said. “I should have killed more.”
“And I should have saved more,” said Carlisle. “But even angels have their limits, and humans certainly do. Sometimes, Sariel, all you can do is keep moving forward. You help where you can, and you hold onto the hope that eventually, the dawn will come."
“I guess.”
"You know," Carlisle said, his voice echoing slightly in the narrow confines of the tunnel, "that's how I first met Cole and Alastor."
“At the ER?”
He nodded. "It was late one night, and I was about twenty hours into a shift and running on caffeine and adrenaline. Alastor charged into the ER, carrying Cole. He was barking orders before they even hit the triage floor." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile, though his eyes remained sombre. “I stitched them both up and sent them back out there.”
"That must've taken some guts," I told Carlisle. "Especially when you realised they were demons. Unless…” I glance ahead. “Did Alastor intimidate you into it?”
Carlisle shook his head. “He might have done, but everyone deserves saving. It doesn't matter what they've been born as. Doctors take an oath to help where we can, to do no harm."
"Ha!" Alastor's deep voice broke in from up ahead. He glanced back over his shoulder, torchlight flickering across his stern face. "That's bullshit and you know it. No other doctor would fucking touch us. You didn't let Cole die because you're a damned good man. And stubborn as hell. That's why he's still alive."
I looked at Carlisle. “Is that true? The other doctors wouldn’t help?”
Carlisle took a deep breath. “Look, with everything that was going on… you have to remember, no one knew about the supernatural. No one knew demons could be good as well as bad, they just saw the carnage. So, when they stumbled in, halfdead, there was a definite feeling that they should be left, or even helped, to die. The staff at that hospital had been working for days with maybe a couple of hours sleep. They were exhausted, they were having to turn people away. Humans, I mean. They were doing surgery in the staff canteen; we were so desperate for space. And on top of that, they were deathly afraid. So yes, most of the other doctors took one look at them and turned away.”
“But you didn’t?” I asked, quietly impressed by this man’s faith and courage, despite what he’d been through.
“No,” he said quietly, his eyes on Alastor’s back. “I didn’t.”
“Carlisle Michaels, our resident human, doctor and hero,” quipped Theo from behind.
Even in the dim light, I saw Carlisle roll his eyes and smiled at the sight.
“I’m no hero,” he said. “If anything, Alastor’s the hero. He’s the one that fought off the angels-” he trailed off suddenly, casting a panicked glance at me and I felt my insides tighten. No. No he couldn’t have. That couldn't be true. Not Alastor.
Alastor turned suddenly and growled at Carlisle, eyes glowing red that slowly crossed to me.
“You fought against angels?” I asked.
Alastor's gaze was steady, unfaltering. Unapologetic. "Yes, I did."
Chapter Twenty
SARIEL
The single word hit like a thunderclap in the silence that followed, stirring up a whirlwind of questions I didn't dare voice. Fighting angels wasn't just dangerous—it was suicidal. Most demons wouldn’t have survived, and those that did would have been hunted down and killed for daring to take up arms against the warriors of Heaven. I knew that first hand. It had been one of my many responsibilities, to hunt down and push the guilty on Gabriel’s orders. Clearly in the chaos of the Opening, this had been missed, or Gabriel would have sent me down for Alastor’s head. With a heavy sense of dread, I realised I would have to report this as soon as we were back on the surface.
I swallowed hard. "Why?"
Alastor didn’t answer, turning back and continuing on into the darkness. I moved up to his side, keeping pace but laying my hand on his forearm.
“Alastor, why would you do that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle. “The penalty for taking up arms against angels is-”
“I know what it is,” he broke in, still not looking at me.
