The two demons froze as the remaining LUDs scattered toward the tunnels. Pinpricks of light appeared, like stars coming out for the night. They grew and spread rapidly, connecting. Golden-white light flashed across the ceiling, charging the air with power and momentarily blinding me. I stumbled back as it pulsed and pulled away from the ceiling. Iridescent light dripped and sparked, forming a funnel of dazzling brightness. My grace throbbed in response to the heavenly glow.

Holy crap.

An angel was coming, and it wouldn’t matter that Roth and Cayman were on Team Stop the End of the World.

“Too late.” Sulien laughed, his spear collapsing into ash. “Unless they want to reenact what happens when insects fly into bug zappers.”

Refocusing on Sulien, I lifted the sword. “You’re in so much trouble now.”

“You think?” he asked, and lifted a brow.

My step faltered as I prepared to strike him. His actions didn’t make sense. He’d reined back his grace, and why would he do that when an angel was coming? Angels could be jerks, but they were good, and Sulien was obviously—

The floor rattled and the walls shook. The entire world seemed to tremble. Stacked rocks toppled and hit the packed dirt. Roth rose, his wings spinning him out of the path. He came back down a few feet behind me as Cayman remained crouched, amber eyes glowing like coals.

The trumpet sounded once more, causing my brain to feel like it was bouncing around in my skull. I lost my grasp on my grace and my sword collapsed.

In the center of the light, the form of a man took shape. He was tall, nearly seven feet, and as he stepped out of the column, I saw that he wore billowing white pants, his chest bare and skin so luminous and ever shifting, he was neither white nor brown and yet somehow every shade in existence. Just like my father.

But this was not my father.

That much I knew.

He strode forward, his back to the stone archway and the churning static-filled center. From the amount of power he was throwing off, he was definitely an archangel.

Sulien didn’t cower or run. He remained where he stood.

Waiting.

“What an entrance,” Roth murmured. “Wonder what he’s compensating for.”

The archangel lifted his hand and flicked his wrist, and then Roth and Cayman were both suspended like an invisible hand had snatched them up. They flew through the air and crashed into the rocks and boulders. Both went down, shifting in and out of their forms, landing in the mess of rocks, arms and legs strewn at awkward angles.

Oh God, they didn’t move.

My head snapped toward the archangel as he came to stand behind Sulien, placing his hand on the Trueborn’s shoulder.

“My son,” he spoke, his voice soft and warm, as if it were full of sunlight. “What have you brought me?”