“You want to end Earth and Heaven because you got fired from being God’s hype machine?” I was dumbfounded.

“You know nothing about loyalty.” His chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths.

I thought of Thierry and Matthew and Jada. I thought of Nicolai and Danika, and all the Wardens in DC. I thought of Roth, the Crown Prince of Hell, and Layla, and Cayman. I thought of Zayne, and I shook my head. “I know what loyalty is. It is you who has no idea.”

“And it will be you who helps me complete my plan. How does that feel?”

“How do you think I’m going to help you?”

“During the Transfiguration, this area will be charged with power—the kind that can create that rift. With my blood and the blood of Michael, the gateway to Heaven will open,” he explained. “Since Michael knows better than to risk being caught on Earth, your blood will do just fine.”

Summoning my grace, I let it take hold, and as the Sword of Michael formed, he smiled. “I’m partial to my blood, so no thank you.”

The archangel dipped his chin. “Silly girl. It was no request.”

41

Gabriel came at me, his arm extending as a blinding golden light flowed down it. A sword with a semicircular blade formed.

It was much, much larger than mine.

There wasn’t a moment to think about the fact I was about to battle an archangel. All I could do was fight, and hope that Roth and Cayman stayed down.

I blocked his blow, rattled by the impact and unprepared for his strength. The one hit nearly knocked me down. I swung my sword toward his chest. He blocked it with one swipe, forcing me back a step. I attacked, sweeping for his legs, but he anticipated the move. I spun, but he was faster. Our swords connected, spitting sparks and hissing. I pushed and then stumbled forward as the archangel disappeared and reappeared a few feet in front of me.

“That’s not fair,” I said.

“Life never is.”

I charged him, and he met my attack, throwing me back like I was nothing more than a paper sack. On and on we went, circling and attacking. He met each blow with his own shattering strength and moved faster than I could. Each time I blocked him, I felt the blow through every atom of my body.

Even with the bond, exhaustion was beginning to peck away at me, making my arms feel heavier and my swings slower. The sparks from our connecting blows spit into the air as the repeated impact jarred my bones. Sweat dripped down my temples as I feinted to the right, arcing my sword. Gabriel slammed his down, knocking me back.

“Stop,” he urged, not out of breath. Not even remotely tired. “You’ve never trained for this. Your father failed you.”