Page 107 of Trust the Fall

The doors slam open again, and all eyes turn to see Victoria rushing through, panting as though she sprinted the entire way here.

How she found this room is the question. My castle is a labyrinth. Lilith runs in behind her, and then it makes sense. Somehow Lilith and Victoria managed to not kill each other long enough to make it here.

I smile across the room at my girl, and she smiles back.

“How’s the fight going out there?”

“It’s over,” Victoria says. “Camille and the reapers helped to defeat the traitors.”

I turn my head to catch the look on Michael’s face when he hears the news that Camille was here. If possible, his face is whiter than it was when he arrived in Hell.

I’m preparing to offer a jab at Michael’s expense when Leeanna’s gasp garners my attention.

I turn in time to watch as the black witch approaches Victoria’s back.

Without a second thought, I transport myself between the two just in time for Yvette’s spell to thrust from the wand in her outstretched hand into my chest.

A searing cold, the likes of which I’ve never experienced, flows through me, freezing my insides.

I drop to my knees, eyes wide in confusion. The commotion around me sounds muffled. I can’t make out any of the words or who speaks them. Victoria falls to her knees in front of me, saying something, looking panicked, but I can’t understand a word she says.

I fall back, head hitting the ground, and everything goes black.

KING OF SHADOWS

My ears ring with the force of my screams.

I heave my body over top of Luke’s, stopping anyone from getting near him.

“Help,” I yell, to no one in particular. “Help.” My voice is hoarse and my heart thumps in my chest.

Luke doesn’t move underneath me, and terror threatens to pull me under.

“Help,” I say, one more time.

Someone falls to their knees beside me. I peer over to see a grief-stricken Lilith.

“Help him,” I beg. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Just help him.”

I would give my own life to save Luke.

A tear falls from the wicked woman’s eyes, and her head shakes. “I can’t,” she cries. “It’s beyond any powers I possess.”

My head swivels on my shoulder, looking from one archangel to the next. Each of them lowers their gaze to the floor.

“Michael,” I say, walking on my knees until I’m in front of him. “Please do something. I know you can. If anyone can, it’s you. Please help him.” My pleading is no use.

“Victoria, if I could, I would, but I don’t possess that power. The black witch’s magic is beyond my comprehension. By the time I could uncover what she’s done, it would be too late.”

“But he … he can’t die. He can’t!”

“I’m sorry, child,” Michael says, running a hand soothingly down my hair.

I jerk out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me,” I bark. “Don’t you dare touch me. This is all your fault,” I yell, growing more erratic.

It’s not his fault. I’m misdirecting my anger.

Grief will do that to a person. We need someone to blame. Someone to hold accountable, even when there’s no reason.