“And I bet you have no idea what I was referencing, which makes my immature snarkiness less entertaining.” The Sword of Michael spit fire as I took a careful step back. I heard no movement behind me, and I knew better than to take my gaze off the Harbinger. I just hoped the Wardens were down but not too badly injured.

“Don’t worry, child of Michael. I always find you entertaining.”

“Happy to hear that.” I willed my heart to slow. I needed to conserve my energy. With no Protector, I would grow tired, slow to move and prone to errors. There was no set time limit to when that happened, but considering I was still healing, probably not that long.

“I’m sure you are.” He lowered his wings. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see you so belligerent. Maybe I just need to break some more of your bones and kill one of those Wardens behind you.”

Potent rage swept through me, and the Sword of Michael flared intensely.

Gabriel laughed as his head fell back. “You’re so angry. I can taste it. Do my words hurt? Is it because I took your Protector? You shouldn’t be angry with me. If God cared, your losses wouldn’t have piled up. You have to want revenge for the deaths of the ones you loved.”

Gabriel had killed Zayne, and he’d been partly responsible for what had happened to Misha and even my mother, and he wanted me to blame God? He was out of his mind, but it also occurred to me that he might not be aware of Zayne’s Fall and subsequent return. That could be beneficial.

If Zayne snapped out of it.

And if I even had a chance to try to bring him back.

“This is not a game, Trueborn. There is nothing you can win. It’s already over. Why make this difficult? You couldn’t save your Protector,” he said, and I flinched. “And no one can save the human race, not when they’re unwilling to save themselves. Their time has come to a close. There’s no stopping it.”

“This conversation again,” I said.

“It’s the truth. All you have to do is step outside to see it. They’ve allowed themselves to become consumed by hate, greed, pride and gluttony. They feed on others’ pain. They’re inherently self-centered. There’s no fixing that, Trueborn. No saving them.”

“You speak as if it’s every person who’s like that, and I’m not going to lie. There’re a lot of crap human beings, but you know what?” I said. “Painting them all with the same brush would be like saying all angels are overgrown toddlers throwing a hissy fit because they’re no longer BFFs with God.”

“BFFs?” he repeated.