But vice-like hands grip my arm, knocking me off balance. Hands clamp down over my mouth and all I can see are the huge, terrified eyes of my mother. She looks at me like I have gone insane.

My brain finally catches up to the rest of me.

She’s right.

Of course she’s right. How bad are things when your clinically insane mother is more rational than you are?

Raffe.

I nod to show that I’m sane again and shift so I can see what’s going on. Mom lets me go.

Raffe lands silently. His wings don’t fold all the way. The scythes on the edge of his wings unsheathe and he whips them out. They’re retractable. I hadn’t realized that before.

I frantically run through my options. What can I do? Yelling will get all of us in trouble. Besides, Raffe thinks I’m dead. Yelling to him might only put him in more danger by shocking him.

The prisoners scream when they see Raffe with his demon wings. It’s painful to see that people prefer a bad guy who looks like an angel to a good guy who looks like a demon.

Beliel feigns stage shock like a clown. “Why, it’s Raphael! Oh, how will I defend myself from the great Wrath that is the fallen echo of what once was?” He drops the act. “Seriously, Raphael, there’s nothing sadder than a broken wreck of a has-been obsessed with trying to relive his past glory. Have a little dignity, will you? You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Shall I rip off your arms and legs first and then tear off the wings? Or the other way around?” Raffe’s voice is full of raw violence in a tone I haven’t heard before. He sounds like he wishes he could have it both ways.

“Why do you want to go back so badly, Raphael? What was so great about being part of the angelic host anyway? So. Many. Rules. I’d forgotten just how many. Maybe you have, too.”

Beliel is stalling. Keeping Raffe in place until the scorpions can descend on him. I’m dying to call out a warning to him. It’s all I can do to stay quiet.

“All this theory about how a master warrior race can only survive if every little infraction of the rules is punished in the extreme.” Beliel motions his hand in a gesture that says, Whatever. “It might have made sense once upon a time when there were only a few rules, but now, things have gotten out of hand, don’t you think? We, the Fallen, on the other hand, have proven that a master warrior race can survive just fine with the opposite system. No rules. You do what you want. To whoever you want.”