Chairs and tables lifted to the air, flying to the sides as two cyclones of red and black...smoke came at us.

I squinted. “What in the holy Hell?”

The smoke expanded and then scattered, revealing the demons’ smooth, waxy skin and oval-shaped, pupilless eyes and holes for nostrils above wide, cruel mouths.

These weren’t Ghouls. They were Seeker demons who were often sent to retrieve things of value for Hell.

How in the world did Gabriel get them on his side?

They skidded to a halt as they got an eyeful of...not me.

Of Zayne.

“Fallen,” one of them whispered in a guttural voice.

Zayne lifted his wings. I didn’t see it, but I felt them stir my hair as they rose above us.

The other Seeker demon cursed. “I didn’t sign up for this.” He turned on his heel and started to run, red and black smoke gathering around him.

Well, then.

Zayne lifted off the deck like a rocket. The Seeker demon didn’t make it very far.

I glanced at the other demon. He started forward, clearly not as affected by me.

“You’re coming with me, nephilim.”

Now I was kind of offended.

“Don’t make this hard,” the demon ordered. “You’ll just hurt yourself in the end.”

“Really?” The Sword of Michael pulsed intensely. “God,” I muttered, stepping to the side. “Tonight is the worst.”

I swung the sword. The Seeker demon was fast, but I was faster. He jumped back, but I spun, slicing the sword high, catching him in the midsection. The fiery blade cut through him as if his bone and muscle were nothing more than tissue paper.

“Dammit,” the Seeker demon muttered just before the flames rippled over his body...parts.

“Stimulating final words,” I said, turning around.

The other Seeker demon met the same end. Sort of. There were sounds of a whole lot of...ripping and tearing that I didn’t even want to think about.

My arms trembled as the grace throbbed in the center of my chest. I shouldn’t be burned out yet, but I was getting close. Normally I could last longer, but again, wasn’t like I was getting much rest. There was enough juice in me to do what needed to be done. My heart started racing again as wet warmth gathered under my nose. Zayne already felt my grace, so me pulling on it wouldn’t alert him to what I was doing.

Now was a better time than any. That’s what I told myself as I started across the roof to where Zayne stood. I wouldn’t even need the Crone. Zayne was here, and even though I wanted to punch him really hard, he was in there. He had to be. Why else was he watching me? Why else had he showed not once but twice to back me up? He was in there, and I was going to free him, one way or the other.

Pressure clamped down on my chest as those magnificent wings soundlessly swept back. He looked over his shoulder at me. One side of his lips curled up as he dragged his lower lip between his teeth.

My stupid, stupid heart skipped, and my steps faltered for only a heartbeat.

And that was all it took.

He was just so fast, too fast, and even if I was in tiptop shape, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He caught my arm before I could even lift the sword.

The glow under his skin increased as he lowered his head, coming within mere inches of the Sword of Michael. “You’re bleeding.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond.

His other arm came around me, pulling me against him. I felt his muscles tense and bunch. For a moment, I thought he was going to lift in the air and take me away. Put me in a cage just like he said.

But he didn’t fly in the air. He jumped sideways, and there was a second of realization. I lost my hold on the grace. The Sword of Michael collapsed just before we crashed through the water.

We went down together, a tangle of legs and churning bubbles. His gaze met mine through the rushing water as we sank and sank. His lips moved as he spoke, and Jesus, were angels part-fish or something? Were there gills in those feathers?

There was a better question to ask. Was he going to drown me? It was all too easy, with how tight he held me to him. There was no breaking his hold.

Before that question could give way to panic, he pushed off the bottom of the pool. We broke the surface moments later, and he let go. I didn’t sink back, finding myself in a shallower end, where the water reached my waist.

Gasping for air, I backed up as I wiped under my nose. I glanced down, and in the faintest traces of the encroaching dawn, I could see the darker gleam of blood was absent on my fingers.

My heart stuttered again. Had he...had he known or remembered what my blood would do? Was that why he tossed us both in the pool?

I looked up, watching him...watch me. Neither of us spoke as I backed into the wall of the pool. He was close, his features clearer than they should’ve been to me. There was a tautness to the set of his lips, one I had only barely begun to understand but recognized nonetheless. My heart hammered now for a wholly different reason. He came closer, his wings slicing through the water behind him. I stiffened, but I didn’t move.

He stopped in front of me, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his stare. “Why did you kiss me earlier?”

His question caught me off guard, and it took me a moment to answer. “Because I...I wanted to reach you.”

Thick lashes I shouldn’t be able to see lowered, shielding his gaze. “Did you?” he asked, his voice softer. More...more like Zayne than I’d ever heard.

A shivery wave of awareness skated through me. “You’re here,” I said thickly, lifting my hands from the water. I didn’t even know what I was doing until I did it, placing my hands against his chest.

He seemed to suck in a deep breath at the contact, as I flattened my palms against his too-cold skin. I didn’t push him away. I just...just touched him.