Anger boils up my spine. “You’re being a downer, Walker. I’m a first-generation archangel, whatever that is. Plus, I’m an Arena fighter, a Lewis, and someone with a lot to lose. I can do this.” I slap on another super-confident face in spite of my insides, which positively writhe with nervous energy.
Verus retakes her seat. “Armageddon doesn’t know there’s a new Scala. He won’t be expecting one to attack.”
“Exactly.” I turn to the Oligarchy. “And what if I’m able to do it? Will you agree to change how Purgatory is run?”
The Oligarchy’s coal-black eyes flare red. “How would it change?”
“This land returns to quasi rule,” says Verus. “And we set up a special force of ghouls, thrax, quasis, and angels to help patrol the borders.”
My eyebrows pop up. Clever Verus. I nudge the angel with my elbow. “Nice idea.” Her mouth rounds with a smile.
The Oligarchy fold their skeletal arms over their chests. “Never.”
I huff out a breath. Patience is not my strong suit, and what little I had was wasted today on Adair. Now that little word pushed me over the edge. I flash Lincoln a red-eyed look of rage. I try to whisper my question, but maybe don’t do the best job. “Can I kill just one?”
A smile gleams in Lincoln’s eyes. “I got this, Myla.” He turns to the Oligarchy, his face becoming stony and unreadable. “Think this through, mighty Oligarchy.” His voice sounds so calm and confident, even though I know he’s nervous inside. How does he do that? “You’re trapped in a bunker. Any minute now, Armageddon could break in. When he does, he’ll keep his promise to kill you all.”
The Oligarchy shift uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging nervous looks. Yay, they finally accept the truth about Armageddon.
Lincoln gestures to me. “Once Myla sends the demons to Hell—and I have every confidence that she will—you’ll lose control of Purgatory, but you’ll keep your lives and the Dark Lands. That’s the offer on the table.” He leans forward, bracing his arms against his knees. “If you don’t agree, then once Myla wins, we’ll offer you the same terms as Armageddon. Death.” His voice lowers to a growl. “Do we understand each other?”
I love it when Lincoln’s bossy. My lust demon comes up with the super idea to jump the Prince right here and now, but I have to overrule it. Shame, though.
Armageddon’s army sends another volley of who-the-hell-knows at the ground around us. More cans and bottles tumble to the floor. Bits of concrete dust waft down from the ceiling.
Lincoln shakes his head. “Armageddon isn’t far now. Every moment we delay makes it harder for Myla…And you.”
Moving in unison, the four ghouls brush white dust from their blood-red robes. “The Oligarchy agrees.”
Sheesh, finally.
“Excellent.” Verus lets out a satisfied sigh. “I’ll draft up binding documents for the treaty.” She turns to me and Lincoln. “Great job.”
“Thanks.” I slump into my chair, the reality of this treaty washing over me. To save Purgatory, I agreed to send Armageddon and his army back to Hell. Anxiety and adrenaline fight their way through my system. Minutes tick by while everyone scurries around with last-minute preparations and I freak myself out by thinking of everything that can go wrong with this plan. Finally, I decide that I’ll go crazy if I sit around here any longer.
I turn to Lincoln and exhale a long breath. “Time to face my demons.”
Lincoln gives my hand a squeeze; there’s no question he’ll go with me. We share a sad smile. In a few minutes, we’ll waltz out to Armageddon’s army where I’ll test my new Scala powers on all of Purgatory.
Not exactly a sure thing.
“Wait, Myla.” Mom steps into the main chamber from the antechamber. She’s now wearing her Senator’s robes. She looks regal, lovely, and strong. Cissy stands beside her in white robes with purple trim, the gown of a junior senator. Zeke wears black body armor with the quasi seal on his shoulders: a circle on interlocking stars. Adair’s nowhere to be seen, which is nice.
I gasp. It’s like they stepped out of a history book from the Ryder library.
“What’s this about, Mom?” She once said something about the bunkers holding Senate robes, but I can’t imagine how dressing up could help now.
“Verus just told us about the treaty.” Mom makes a regal gesture around the room. “I am still the Diplomatic Senator of the quasi people. I will request parlay with Armageddon, then go outside with my guard and junior senator. Hopefully, we can distract him for a time while you get started.”
I frown. “Will he really respect a Senator’s request for parlay?”
Cissy grins. “We have the Scala and Scala Heir in our bunker. He’ll talk.”
I glance about. “Where is Adair, anyway?”
Cissy fidgets in her robes. “Uh, she started getting hysterical.” Cissy makes her ‘eek’ face. “So I maybe slipped her a sedative. There was a medicine kit on one the shelves.”
Zeke chuckles. “My girl totally roofied her.” He keeps shifting positions to show off his muscly self in his cool new armor. Lincoln and I exchange a look.