Gatekeepers and hellions materialise on the sand right below us, between the boardwalk and Nathaniel and the sea of Immundi. Zarael lifts his face to the raging sky, long black hair whipping around his scarred face. Laughing. At his back, the writhing mass of demons swarm over Nathaniel.
Panic claws at me. My mind spins.
‘Mobilise!’ Daniel shouts. ‘Get Nathaniel out of there!’
In a flash I find traction. I grab for Jude and Rafa before they can shift with everyone else. Even Daisy is gone.
‘The Fallen,’ I say.
‘What about them?’ Jude’s injured and bare chested, and straining to be down in the sand fighting with the others. For once, Rafa gets what I’m saying before he does.
‘Will it work?’
‘I don’t know, but Dani’s watching, ready when we are.’ When I left the resort, she was sitting in the middle of the bed, preparing to sink into that meditative state where she can see us.
‘Where would we do it?’ Jude asks, and takes one last look over the boardwalk: Rephaim pushing Gatekeepers and hellions back, trying to get close to the spot Nathaniel went down. Rephaim stabbing at Immundi, dragging them away from the fallen angel. Shifting every few seconds to confuse the demons. ‘Resort rooftop?’
Smart. It’s close to Dani and we can keep an eye on the chaos. I nod, and am about to step into the void when my stomach dips and fingers grab my wrist.
‘Wait—’
I duck and spin and then register it’s Mya. But there’s not enough time to stop the sweep that takes out her legs. She lands hard on the boardwalk, her katana catching the fence on the way down. The right side of her face is smeared with blood now—is she missing half an ear? I grab her wrist and shift without explanation, taking her with me.
My shin hits something solid and unforgiving on the other side and Mya bumps into me. Jude springs forward, steadies us before we both topple over.
‘Mya—’
‘You’re breaking them out, right?’ she asks, breathless. It’s a demand, not a question.
‘We’re going to try,’ Jude says. ‘We have to.’
I move back from the thing that almost tripped me: a low-set timber table, the first in a long row, bolted to the rooftop pavers. Lounge chairs and umbrellas are strewn across the resort roof, upturned and battered by the wind. The noise of the battle carries up to us: shouting, snarling, steel on steel.
Rafa wipes his blade clean on a tattered umbrella. ‘You want to help me cover these two while they do their thing?’ he asks Mya.
She nods and I catch her eye. ‘Are you sure this is what you want? It won’t work if even one of us is against the idea of freeing them.’
‘Anything’s better than what’s going on down there.’
I can’t bring myself to follow her gaze. I take a steadying breath, fight off an assault of memories from the last time we tried this. The taste of dirt and pine needles. The feel of sharp steel breaking the skin on my neck. Blind terror that I was about to lose my brother, or die, or both.
And here we are about to do it all again, with the entire Gatekeeper horde and a monstrous Immundi army within shouting distance. This is what Zarael wanted all along, to draw all of us into a fight. Isolate Nathaniel. Come after Jude and me. Ironically, we’re trying to give him exactly what he wants: the Fallen.
My heart is a jackhammer. What if we free the Fallen and they don’t help? What if they despise the Rephaim as much as the Garrison does and attack us? What if—
‘We need to do this now.’
I lock eyes with Jude. Swallow. He’s as freaked out as I am, but there’s determination in the set of his lips. Grim resolution. I sheathe my katana with trembling fingers, fumble with the knife tucked in the front of my jeans. Blood rushes in my ears, thunders through me. I feel it at my temples, my throat, my fingertips.
Mya sheathes her sword and draws two handguns. Rafa has a katana in each hand, spins both. They take up posts either side of us, ready. A bloodcurdling cry carries up from the beach. I can’t tell if it’s triumph or rage. I shove the thought aside and slice open my palm. It stings like a bastard. Jude takes the knife and does the same and then we slap our palms together. His skin is hot and sticky. He thrums as if there’s an electrical current running through him.
This is it.
I hope Dani’s ready. I hope she’s right about remembering the incantation.
I hope we all survive this.
Jude and I keep our swords in our free hands. Tighten our grip on each other. Rafa and Mya prowl around us, impatient, agitated. Rafa leans over the timber handrail to see the beach. ‘Anything yet?’ he asks over his shoulder, and his urgency tells me how badly things are going down there.
A slash of lightning splits the sky, so close my hair crackles and lifts from my scalp. Thunder booms. Somehow, the storm is right over us again. But where’s the wind? The rain? Even through my haze of adrenaline and impatience, I notice the stillness. Not quietness—the battle still rages between the resort and the ocean. But the clouds are lower, heavier. It’s as if the world is shrinking, closing in around us. I feel a strange surge of energy catch at the tip of my hair and rip through me, blasting out through the soles of my boots. But that’s not the weirdest thing.
The weirdest thing is that Jude’s face is lit up, flickering, like there’s a bonfire between us.
‘Gabe…’ He looks up and I follow his gaze.
The sky is on fire.
No. Wait. That’s not right. The night is shot through with flecks of oranges and reds, but not like flames: like embers. As if the clouds themselves are glowing.
‘Are we doing that?’ I whisper.
‘I don’t—’
He doesn’t finish because Zarael materialises on the roof.
Of course he does.
The night grinds down. Suspends. And in that moment—the blink of an eye—I see hell’s prime Gatekeeper with strange clarity. The cruel crisscross of scars on his cheeks and throat. The easy way he grips his broadsword. Orange eyes reflecting the flickering sky. The sheer delight in the curve of his mouth.
Rafa launches himself at Zarael, his katana smashing against the demon’s broadsword. Time snaps back.
Jude and I rush forward, hands still linked—we can’t lose contact, not now, not if we’re the ones changing the sky—but Mya shifts and beats us. She raises her guns and Rafa dives out of the way as she unloads both into the demon’s chest and head. Zarael’s body twitches as each bullet rips into him, driving him backwards. His head snaps back, taking one in the forehead.
It might be enough to slow him—or not. He’s the hardest of all of them to keep down. Mya presses the triggers until the firing pins click. Once, twice, three times. She’s empty. She tosses the guns aside, draws her katana.
Zarael stumbles against the timber rail and recovers immediately, his face streaming with blood. He’s not smiling anymore. The four of us attack simultaneously. But Jude and I are useless swinging one-handed and Zarael knows it. He skips sideways, blocks a strike from Rafa and collects Mya with a backhand blow. It lifts her off her feet. She lands on the pavers, bones crunching, barely missing an overturned deck chair. She doesn’t move and I feel Jude waver.
My insides plummet. I glance over my shoulder; Leon and two hellions have arrived. Leon’s sword is streaked dark. One of the hellions carries a club, the other flexes razor-like claws, bares its long teeth.
I half-turn, prepare for a second attack. Should we shift? Will it nullify the ritual—if it’s even working at all? Can we afford to be further away from Dani? Fuck. She’s right here, a few storeys below us. In the middle of this nightmare. So’s Maggie—unless Jason’s finally taken all of them to safety. If he has, is there any point in us being here?
God, I don’t know what to do. I don’t—
The night shatters with another sky-splitting bolt of lightning and cracking thunder. And it’s in the flare of orange light that I see them arrive. Leon staggers back and the hellions snarl. My heart stumbles.
The rooftop is seething with angels.