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“I suspected as much after I learned of how her mother died,” Dezikiel said with a small nod, his finger on his chin.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, hating how my voice cracked.
“I had to be sure. Besides, it was clearly dormant until recently when your hellfire changed, but I didn’t expect it to become so powerful,” Dezikiel admitted. “It’s obvious now that you’re a hybrid of the two, with incredible abilities and power.”
“Yes, I can sense your power. You’re stronger than any demonic I’ve ever met, possibly many angels too,” Jophiel said as he cocked his head at me thoughtfully.
I moved my gaze to Diane, whose eyes glittered as she stared at me sorrowfully.
“It’s my fault Thomas is dead, my fault all of this happened in the first place.” I sniffled as I looked to Flynn, who had bandages over his shoulder and neck.
“No, none of this was your doing, you were a victim,” Jophiel said as he planted his hands on the table, and Dezikiel nodded in agreement. “But as for what we do now, I’m at a loss. The High Council will continue seeking you out, and clearly the Princes of Hell want you too,” he said with a distressed sigh.
“My father told me something,” I said after a moment as I wiped my eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “He said I’m also the key to closing the gates of Hell permanently. That no more rips could open up. That my mother spoke to a prophet while she was pregnant with me. He urged me to find Michael or one of the other archangels so they could help me. Could you help me?” I whispered the last part, clinging to the last shred of hope I had.
“Wait, close the gates and rips? For good?” Diane baulked at the idea.
“We’d be out of a job,” Wayne scoffed, although he was giving me an intrigued look.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Jophiel pursed his lips as he straightened. “I may be an archangel, but I’m a lesser archangel than Michael and the others,” he said with a shake of his head. “If what your father says is true, we’d have to find the prophet and learn how you can close the gates. Do you know their name?” he asked.
“No, my father didn’t say,” I muttered, wishing I could’ve asked him.
But now, he was gone.
“What was your mother’s name?” he asked instead.
“Nadine Mordov,” I answered.
He just frowned and shook his head at that. “She must’ve used a false name while here on earth.”
Great, another dead end.
“So what now?” I mumbled as I slouched down in my seat. I was beyond exhausted, but my wings revealing themselves had restored me a little within thankfully.
“Well, we’ll need to get you into Heaven, while avoiding any angels the High Council sends after you, and demons from the Princes,” Jophiel said. “Then find out just who your mother was and the prophet she saw.”
“It’ll be risky in Heaven, they’ll sense our presence,” Dezikiel said as he tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“Especially since she’s demonic too,” Jophiel agreed.
We all fell silent as a lone keeper entered the room carrying a few white roses.
The tension increased tenfold as Dezikiel sighed and nodded.
“We’ll sort this out later. It’s time to cremate one of our own,” he said, his voice ringing out in the eerie silence.
I stared down at the table, my hands shaking as everyone started to rise.
“Come,” Jack murmured as he urged me to my feet as well. “We need to say goodbye and pray he finds his way in the next life.”
I gritted my teeth as I rose, the tears trickling down my cheeks as Bug gave my hand a squeeze.
We all filed out into the hall quietly while Dezikiel led the way outside and into the gardens.
Our shoes scraped on the pavement, and the sun was setting in the distance, like it was turning the page on this horrific day as well, wanting to leave it all behind.
I drew in shuddering breaths as we made our way deeper into the gardens, no one saying a word as darkness descended on us.
