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Azrael knelt down, taking a breath.
“Victory is ours,” Araquiel said.
“Yes,” Azrael whispered. But she stumbled, clutching her stomach, where she’d been wounded. The Black Fire had worked its way into her blood. It would consume her—she could feel its poison eating into her soul.
“You are Azrael. You are stronger than this,” Araquiel said in despair. “You cannot leave me now.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Azrael whispered, but her lips were cold on his cheek, and he knew she did not have much time left.
His tears fell upon her face, bathing her with his sorrow.
FIFTY-EIGHT
Schuyler
he couldn’t find him. She couldn’t see where he had gone. They had been separated in the chaos of the fight. Jack—where are you? But all was smoke and flame, all was anarchy and war and ruin. The wolves were all around, and the Venators were fighting with every ounce of their souls. The vampires had transformed—they were angels now—just like at the battle that had cursed them to darkness. Now they were in the final battle for redemption, struggling to return to the paradise from which they had been banished.
But where was Jack?
Where was her love?
Schuyler fought bravely and steadily, wielding her father’s blade, finding her way toward the forefront, until she found the two angels fighting against each other, the Dark against the Light, their golden swords clashing over the tablet. Then one slipped…and…
Schuyler held her sword against his heart.
Lucifer lay on the stone tablet.
Michael’s sword holding him there.
Schuyler could taste the victory of her people. This was it. Her chance to destroy him once and for all. To destroy the Dark Prince with the archangel’s sword.
“You don’t want to do that,” Lucifer said calmly.
“Believe me, there is nothing I want more,” she said.
“You can’t see behind you,” he said. “But I can. Abbadon, would you like to describe what’s happening right now?” Lucifer asked. “Tell her what’s going on.”
Jack? What’s happening?
Do what you have to do. Take your chance. Do not think about me, Jack sent.
“Oh, how sweet,” Lucifer said. “He’s going to sacrifice himself.”
Schuyler knew. She could see it in the glom, in her mind’s eye, even without turning. Victory would be hollow.
Danel held a blade under Jack’s throat. Schuyler could kill Lucifer, but Danel would kill Jack. She would win, but lose her love.
And then she saw that it was not the first time someone had faced this choice. That once upon a time in Rome, her father had stood at the same crossroads.
FIFTY-NINE
Gabrielle
could feel his arms around me. His wings surrounded me, their softness on my skin. I could feel his breath on my cheek, and his lips were on mine.
Gabrielle.
Then he stopped.
