together. And he needed to hold it together. The others were watching.
“I can’t help you. I can’t send you home, unless—”
“I have done no wrong,” the angel declared, straining with each word. “It was our mission to see the monsters that inhabited His world destroyed.”
“And yet, here we are,” Aaron said as he stood. He gestured to the other Nephilim. “No matter how misguided you were, your mission has failed.”
The angel’s one eye darted around as if searching for something.
“They’re still out there,” the angel whispered to the stone ceiling.
“Who?” Aaron asked. “The Powers? They’re gone,” Aaron told him again. “The Powers have all been sent back to Heaven to face judgment for their sins.” His palm began to radiate a warm glow again, and he held his hand out toward the angel.
“I sent them there.”
“Not all,” the angel said, violently shaking his head. “Others … others still search for the solution … the solution to the problem at hand.”
Aaron felt his insides twist into a knot. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“You will,” the angel replied, his single eye twinkling maliciously. “But by then it will be too late.”
Aaron knelt again beside the angel.
“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked, sensing that the angel was hinting at something very important.
The angel laughed again, sending new rivers of black blood from the corners of his mouth.
“Tell me,” Aaron demanded, the power of forgiveness gone from his hands, the warm glow replaced by a far moredestructive flame. He brought it close to the angel’s face.
“Wormwood,” the angel said through a ferocious snarl, batting Aaron’s hand away with surprising strength. “Wormwood will take you all.”
Then there came a flash of fire from the angel’s filthy, mangled hand, as a dagger of heavenly design formed there, a dagger that he plunged into his own throat.
Aaron and the others gasped.
The angel’s flesh began to burn, ignited by the blade forged from the fires of Heaven. And soon there was nothing more than smoldering ash, the angel’s final words echoing through the underground cavern.
Wormwood
.
CHAPTER EIGHT
G abriel was on his elbows, butt in the air, tail wagging furiously from side to side, as he barked at Milton, who scampered around in front him.
“Sometimes it feels like that,” Lorelei said, her voice still sounding weak from the wear of Archon magick upon her form. She’d switched from coffee to tea, and was playing with her mug as they sat at one of the long tables in the old science lab, watching the animals.
“Hmm?” Lucifer questioned, looking to the dog and mouse at play.
“The tiny against the large … what we’re up against … it seems so big,” Lorelei explained.
“It does, doesn’t it,” Lucifer replied, now understanding. He brought a fresh cup of Earl Grey to his mouth.
Gabriel had dropped to his side upon the floor, his pawswaving about in play as Milton deftly evaded the dog’s attempts to swat at him. The small creature darted through Gabriel’s flailing limbs to poke at the dog’s black snout with its own, before quickly running away, and then starting the game all over again.
“Our numbers are so small,” Lorelei said. “And the threats get bigger and more dangerous.”
Lucifer nodded. “More and more every day,” the Morningstar said. “Far more than when we first began.”
“It’s going to come down to us having to pick and choose,” the white-haired girl said.
“There was supposed to be more of us,” he said sadly. “I’m sure the Almighty never expected the Powers to be quite so efficient with their hunting skills.”
“Every week I cast a spell to be certain,” she said, picking up her mug with trembling hands and taking a careful sip. “To make sure that there aren’t any more of us … Nephilim … out there alone, needing to understand what is happening to them.”
Lucifer didn’t expect
“I can’t help you. I can’t send you home, unless—”
“I have done no wrong,” the angel declared, straining with each word. “It was our mission to see the monsters that inhabited His world destroyed.”
“And yet, here we are,” Aaron said as he stood. He gestured to the other Nephilim. “No matter how misguided you were, your mission has failed.”
The angel’s one eye darted around as if searching for something.
“They’re still out there,” the angel whispered to the stone ceiling.
“Who?” Aaron asked. “The Powers? They’re gone,” Aaron told him again. “The Powers have all been sent back to Heaven to face judgment for their sins.” His palm began to radiate a warm glow again, and he held his hand out toward the angel.
“I sent them there.”
“Not all,” the angel said, violently shaking his head. “Others … others still search for the solution … the solution to the problem at hand.”
Aaron felt his insides twist into a knot. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“You will,” the angel replied, his single eye twinkling maliciously. “But by then it will be too late.”
Aaron knelt again beside the angel.
“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked, sensing that the angel was hinting at something very important.
The angel laughed again, sending new rivers of black blood from the corners of his mouth.
“Tell me,” Aaron demanded, the power of forgiveness gone from his hands, the warm glow replaced by a far moredestructive flame. He brought it close to the angel’s face.
“Wormwood,” the angel said through a ferocious snarl, batting Aaron’s hand away with surprising strength. “Wormwood will take you all.”
Then there came a flash of fire from the angel’s filthy, mangled hand, as a dagger of heavenly design formed there, a dagger that he plunged into his own throat.
Aaron and the others gasped.
The angel’s flesh began to burn, ignited by the blade forged from the fires of Heaven. And soon there was nothing more than smoldering ash, the angel’s final words echoing through the underground cavern.
Wormwood
.
CHAPTER EIGHT
G abriel was on his elbows, butt in the air, tail wagging furiously from side to side, as he barked at Milton, who scampered around in front him.
“Sometimes it feels like that,” Lorelei said, her voice still sounding weak from the wear of Archon magick upon her form. She’d switched from coffee to tea, and was playing with her mug as they sat at one of the long tables in the old science lab, watching the animals.
“Hmm?” Lucifer questioned, looking to the dog and mouse at play.
“The tiny against the large … what we’re up against … it seems so big,” Lorelei explained.
“It does, doesn’t it,” Lucifer replied, now understanding. He brought a fresh cup of Earl Grey to his mouth.
Gabriel had dropped to his side upon the floor, his pawswaving about in play as Milton deftly evaded the dog’s attempts to swat at him. The small creature darted through Gabriel’s flailing limbs to poke at the dog’s black snout with its own, before quickly running away, and then starting the game all over again.
“Our numbers are so small,” Lorelei said. “And the threats get bigger and more dangerous.”
Lucifer nodded. “More and more every day,” the Morningstar said. “Far more than when we first began.”
“It’s going to come down to us having to pick and choose,” the white-haired girl said.
“There was supposed to be more of us,” he said sadly. “I’m sure the Almighty never expected the Powers to be quite so efficient with their hunting skills.”
“Every week I cast a spell to be certain,” she said, picking up her mug with trembling hands and taking a careful sip. “To make sure that there aren’t any more of us … Nephilim … out there alone, needing to understand what is happening to them.”
Lucifer didn’t expect
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