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Fucking stars, was he in a crystal somewhere too?
Rafael can do it if Nix can’t. So can Heylel. Heylel’s in The Land of Light. Bring him the crystal, and he can bring the babies back.
This son of a bitch wasn’t walking out of this room with that crystal, stars fucking damn it.
I jammed the blade toward his throat.
He threw his head back, body tilting with it.
I stumbled forward.
Falling, I lapsed again. I didn’t fall short this time. I landed behind him, hooking my arm around his neck and jumping onto his back when he tried to buck me off. My sword clanged to the ground, but I fisted the dagger, stabbing erratically in the hopes of hitting flesh. Judging by the blood splatters, I must have. Not enough to kill him apparently, but I wouldn’t stop until he was on the ground.
Then it was a blur.
He rammed me backward into the wall. I didn’t let go.
I dug my fingers into his eyes.
When he screamed and tried to pry me off him, I locked my grip tight.
He tried to slam that blade into my face, and I caught hold of it. I squeezed. I squeezed with all my might, and he slid it from my grasp.
He must’ve dropped to the ground at some point.
I still held on.
I didn’t care how hard I had to fight. He was not leaving this room with my babies’ souls inside that dagger.
And then, I don’t know what I hit, but he grunted, and we fell.
Scrambling to stand over him, lapsing that sword to my hand, I stared down at him.
Blood rolled from all over his face. My dagger stuck out of his eye. His mouth was wide open, chest still.
I bent down, fisted the dagger, and yanked through the mush of his brain.
He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.
Panting heavily, staring at that lifeless face through my veil of crimson, unable to tell what was mine and what was his, it began to settle in.
This had all been a ruse.
Either Lux and Rafael were in on it, or they had no idea, and Michaelletthem find him. He let us think we won. I imagined he was out of his cell by now.
And I had no idea how many of us were dead already.
I had no idea why Nix hadn’t shown.
I pried that blade from Metatron’s dead fingers, and I ran.
My babies.
My babies, my babies, my babies.
They were the only thing running through my mind as I dropped to the pond of crimson that’d spilled from their throats.
I lifted Vanna with one arm, and I hauled Mirobhail with the other.
