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As Jackson dropped down from the sky, he entered the glass doorway and retracted his glowing wings, all in one smooth motion. The security guards positioned inside the cube saluted him, but Jacks didn’t pay any attention to them as he walked—stomped, really—to the large elevator, which was housed in a marble column in the rear center of the cube. The gleaming doors opened smoothly, and Jackson stepped into the plush car. Soothing music played from sleek speakers, and an enormous TV embedded in the back wall displayed footage of underwater tropical fish swimming calmly along a coral reef.

He didn’t have to push a button. There was only one way the elevator could go. And that was down.

It took some time for the elevator to reach its destination. Not too long ago, Jacks had idly wondered how deep down the sanctuary actually was. Now he couldn’t have cared less, and he didn’t even notice the ride. After what Maddy had done to him on the pier, his mind—his whole body—had become a tempest of rage, sadness, and confusion.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened to reveal another world, and Jackson began walking, his footsteps echoing along the Italian marble floor. The secure Angel complex had been prepared as a haven for just the kind of emergency the demon attack posed. It had been dreamed up during the Cold War, when the threat of nuclear annihilation was a real concern, but this was no bare-bones underground bunker. Far from it. In true Angel fashion, no creature comfort was left uncared for.

Long, elegant passageways extended underground, illuminated by soft light coming from frosted windows along the way, which simulated sunlight filtering through to the lush plants. Jackson’s footsteps echoed as they stepped along the marble floors. The Immortals’ living quarters were furnished with huge flat-screen TVs, enormous claw-foot bathtubs, king-sized beds with feather pillows, and balconies that looked out over artificial lakes. All the interior windows were outfitted with electric bulbs timed to simulate natural light from dawn through sunset, and the air was pure and fresh from outside. They had everything they needed for quite some time. Everything had been planned out immaculately.

It was called the sanctuary.

The complex was known only to a handful of non-Angels who had been forced to sign threatening-looking, ironclad agreements promising they would never say anything about it. Any slip of a word and an army of Angel lawyers would be suing the pants off them. Back when the sanctuary was being built, a construction worker blabbed his story, and the National Enquirer ran a story with the headline, “HOLE-Y COW! SECRET ANGEL UNDERGROUND LAIR!” The construction worker was sued into the next century, and the next week the tabloid took the very unorthodox step of totally taking back every part of the story, saying: “How sad we are to admit we had been fooled so easily.” And so the legend of the sanctuary died.

But the legend was real. The sanctuary was quietly refurbished every few years so it remained up-to-date for the finicky Angels. There were the living quarters, which were lavish and suitable for those Angels who were only accustomed to the finer things in life. Along the passageways were rows of boutiques displaying the latest trends, fine jewelry shops, a half-dozen organic gourmet restaurants, and a couple of fancy cafés. Everything the Immortal City had to offer, all kept safe and tucked away in the sanctuary. It was all perfectly planned and was the ideal place to ride out the demon attacks while still ensuring that the Angels kept their foothold in Angel City, no matter what happened upstairs.

The Angels had only been down there for a day, but they were already settling in nicely. The sanctuary was always prepped for their arrival and ongoing comfort, and now the time had finally come. As soon as the demons struck with the sinkhole, the Angels had simply disappeared from human sight, stealing away from their homes in the Angel City Hills and descending to their paradise below.

But the sanctuary wasn’t only used for hiding. Somewhere along the way, the maze of passages led to the Council chambers. Once a year, the Angels convened in the sanctuary ballroom for an ultrasecret gala where they honored the Council of Twelve, who had brought them into the Light. And sometimes the Archangels would have their most secretive meetings—or, depending on whom you asked, secret parties, complete with wild debauchery—down here. There were also darker rumors about darker things that had taken place in the sanctuary during the Troubles, but they were never substantiated.

• • •

“Godspeed,” said Mitch, Jackson’s closest friend, calling out to him as he passed.

Jackson kept walking.

“Godspeed!” Mitch caught up to him and put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

Jackson stopped on a dime and spun around to Mitch.

“What?” Jacks growled.

“Whoa, bro, relax,” Mitch said. “Your stepfather was looking for you.”

“He can keep looking.”

Mitch looked at Jackson. It didn’t take a psych major to see something wasn’t quite right. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jacks said. He continued down the hall again, and Mitch followed alongside him.

“Sorry, I should have known you’d be upset. You know, we’re all worried. From a certain angle, it’s pretty harsh that we’re leaving the humans out in the cold like this.”

Jacks looked at Mitch in disbelief.

“I mean, I understand why you’re a little upset, bro. We’ve been protecting the humans for how many thousands of years?” Mitch said. “That’s a long time. And now, just to turn away from them with the demons coming? Even if the humans were trying to ban Angel activities, we could’ve worked through that, at some point. But to leave them alone like this, and they don’t even know what they’re up against?”

Jacks gave him an incredulous glance. “Are you an Immortal or a human, Mitch? Think about it. Would they have supported us? No. They would have been glad to see us wiped out.”

Mitch’s expression betrayed his confusion. “What are you talking about? I thought you were mad because we’re not helping the humans. You’ve always been pretty liberal in comparison with the National Angel Services, or NAS. We’ve talked about this for years.”

Jacks snorted.

Mitch put his hand on Jacks’s shoulder and stopped him again. “What happened? This isn’t like you, Jacks,” Mitch said. “I knew you were gone for a while today. A bunch of Angels saw you leave. No one said anything to Mark or anything, though.” Mitch paused. “Did you go see her?”

Jackson ignored the question. “Don’t you remember the Immortals Bill, Mitch? They were going to imprison us. Remember whose side you belong to. Don’t be a human sympathizer.” Jacks paused and steeled himself. “They deserve whatever they’re going to get.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, man. You can’t believe that. Whatever’s happened between you two, you still have to think about Maddy!”

The name

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