ALEXA SAT AGAINST THE COLD, dank wall of her prison cell in Tartarus. The darkness was profound, like a heavy curtain that blocked all the sun light. She felt as though she might never see the light of day again, a thought that might even drive her mad if she wasn’t careful.
Before the guards had locked her door, they’d tossed in a glowing orb, spilling soft light into her cell like a tiny sun. She stared at it now, as it hovered above, her only comfort in the creepy and prolonged silence.
At first, she’d been terrified at the sight of the giant eagles. They’d never uttered a single word until they’d thrown her inside her cell as if she were a common criminal.
“Don’t even think of escaping,” one of the eagles had warned. “If you jump, the Earth’s atmosphere will shred your body into ribbons, and you will die a most painful death. There’s no escaping Tartarus.”
Now that she knew Tartarus was a floating concrete prison with no windows or openings, she believed them.
Alexa had been taken into custody by the archangel Metatron, minutes after Hades’ demise. The Hellgates had all disappeared. Even the demons and pagan gods had vanished.
The High Council held a trial that very same day. Alexa had been tried and found guilty on accounts of desertion and treason. She was sentenced to spend the rest of her angel existence in Tartarus.
It had taken all but ten minutes for the council members to put together a verdict—a life sentence in the angel prison.
No one spoke of the sacrifice Milo had made. Alexa felt as though the Legion didn’t want to admit to Lucifer’s return, that with Hades gone, the balance was now secured in the mortal world.
It was unnerving not knowing what was happening in Horizon beyond the black walls of her prison. The sound of dripping water resonated around her and then the fading echo of distant moaning. The tang of mold and the reek of mildew and bird droppings scented the damp, cold air. But the walls smelled of fear and despair and death.
Her senses and memories slowly returned to her, each one more painful than the last. She remembered everything—her parents, her childhood, her life as a mortal… her death… all of it came crashing down on her until she rolled over and retched.
Lucifer had been right. She wasn’t special anymore. Her soul channeling ability was gone.
She felt none of the familiar light, the pulsing of power, or the compartment inside her soul. It was as though her gift had never existed. She was ordinary.
Her true death seemed colder and closer than ever before. The living world and its cares seemed far away. The thought of Lance escaping a trial made her glad, as much as she could feel anything. Hades was defeated, imprisoned if not made truly dead by Lucifer.
Her work was done, more or less.
And Milo…
“Why Milo, why?” she whispered.
Her soul ached worse than anything she’d ever endured. What if she never saw him again? What if Lucifer was torturing his son now, with Sabrielle clapping excitedly beside him? She bit down on a cry, her tears spilling down her face.
She saw Milo in her mind’s eye, disappearing through the black mist, over and over again… It broke her. She was broken. Broken.
Alexa balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Somewhere, not too far off, screaming began. A high-pitched, pleading moan, accentuated with swellings of shrieking that shot her with a cold panic. That might sound like me in a hundred years, thought Alexa.
She curled her knees to her chest, grasping them tightly, and reined in on her emotions. She clenched her teeth. She couldn’t panic. She had to be strong, had to keep her tears in check, had to keep her wits together.
Alexa wouldn’t give up because deep down she knew this wasn’t the end, wasn’t her end.
Although a great and terrible dark force had escaped, in spite of the dark and twisting path she saw stretching ahead for herself, and in spite of the final meeting with Lucifer she knew must come, she felt her spirit lift at the thought of hope.
And while Alexa knew the times would be even more difficult than ever before, she couldn’t help the tiny smile that formed on her lips.
She wasn’t about to leave Milo to suffer at the hands of his father, Lucifer. She was going to get him back.