“Tell me,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I wonder if this is how Samson felt… after his hair was cut.” Bannik tapped his chin. “After all, you’ve done the same thing without realizing it… when you mate, it is possible, that one or the other person may give all of his angelic powers to the other, say, if he is worried about her safety, or about her leaving him—”
“—human.” I gasped, throwing my arms out to the sides as shreds of ice slammed against the walls.
Bannik ducked. “Before you leave….”
I stared him down then closed my eyes, forcing my will on him, trying to remember what Cassius had explained in training, only to have my eyes open and see that nothing had happened.
“This…” He smiled wickedly. “Is my favorite part.”
The wall behind him moved to the side.
I counted ten.
Ten men.
Huge.
All with red and black hair.
Chained to the walls.
With blood being drained from them.
“It seems…” Bannik shrugged. “That I’ve been very bad.”
The men’s mouths were covered—but their eyes conveyed fear, anger, hostility and shame. I didn’t need to stare long to know who they were.
Sariel’s brothers.
The ones who had been punished.
And sent to different corners of the earth.
“Sariel won’t let you get away with this.”
“Hah!” Bannik clapped his hands. “And what will dear brother do? Not only am I creating an army—but I’m harnessing their power for my own. I’m untouchable. And now.” He dismissed me with his hand. “I’m bored.”
The door behind me opened.
Timber grabbed my arms and jerked me out.
“He’s insane,” I said through clenched teeth. “Do you truly think you can trust someone? Like that!” I pointed at the door.
“And my other choice?” Timber asked in a calm voice. “Rot until an immortal finally kills me then take my place in hell.” He shoved me down the hall. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Sariel—”
“Yes, let’s talk about the good angel.” He laughed, an evil sound that slid over me like warm butter. “Tell him, a war is coming. One he cannot win. Oh, and do say hello to the immortal king for me as he takes his last breath. We had a good run, a really good run.”
With that I was tossed into the street.
“Home,” I breathed, hoping it would work, that I would be able to imagine myself in a place and end up there.
After two seconds of nothing, desperation finally kicked in. I pushed all of my emotions into willing myself home with Cassius.
And opened my eyes just in time to see Ethan yell. “He’s coding!”
Cassius
THE WOUND HURT—but what hurt more, was the physical pain of my heart as it demanded I run after her. So with all the strength I possessed, I closed my eyes and willed it. I willed my strength to her, every ounce I had—and hoped it would be enough to keep her alive, even if it meant my death.
What have you done?
Sariel’s whisper was as always… so helpful.
I fell to my knees with a grunt, confused as to why my wound wasn’t healing; it typically took mere seconds for my skin to knit back together, leaving me without any sort of scar.
But now? It was as if.
I’d truly been injured.
I was about to yell for Ethan when he appeared by my side, his hands shoving mine away as he examined my chest. Eyes grave, he pulled back. “You aren’t healing.”
“No shit.” I huffed. It was getting more difficult to breathe by the second, as if a heaviness had taken hold of my chest and squeezed, the pressure building up into my lungs.
“Alex! Mason!”
They ran in, Genesis was close on their heels.
“Run into something sharp?” Alex teased.
“He’s not self-healing.” Ethan hissed. “And I can’t stop the bleeding.”
Immediately Alex sobered, shoving Ethan away so he could take a look, but what good was a Siren?
“I’m slowing your heart.” Ethan pressed a hand to my neck. “Try to calm down.”
“Sure.” I nodded. “I’ll do that, I’ll just tell myself to calm down while I—”
A Dark One could always calm down, always compartmentalize. “Genesis, what color are my eyes?”
Face pale, she answered in a tiny voice. “Blue. They’re blue.”
Mason let out a little howl as he knelt by my side and took my hand in his, apparently my emotions were causing him to change as claws replaced hands.
“It’s fine,” I lied, unable to taste it in the air. “There is no better way to die, then in the presence of friends.”
Brave words for someone who didn’t feel so brave, because regardless of my human state—I would die as a Dark One.
I would be nothing.
Feel nothing.
Know nothing.
To die as a Dark One is to have never existed.
And for the first time in my existence, I wanted the pain that memory brought, because it meant that I had lived, that I’d suffered, that I had loved and come out on the other side better for it.