“He brought you here, and I thought you were dead. He promised me you weren't, but he also said that you were going to take away my magic.” She uncurled herself. “What is he talking about?”

  Morrah. Sybil took a couple of deep breaths. “I will not take away your magic. We're going to find a way out of here.”

  Chrissy nodded. “I don't know what's going on. I thought Zel was just an owner. It never occurred to me that Zel was short for Azazel, the fucking angel.”

  “He's technically a fallen angel.” Sybil stood and tested the one door that was in the room. Locked, of course.

  “And the man who took us?”

  “Angel,” Sybil muttered. “Have you tried magic to unlock the door?”

  Chrissy nodded. “Several times.”

  Crap. There were no windows to climb out of. Nothing to even show where they were.

  Sybil backed up to the other side of the room and ran toward the door, putting her shoulder into it, but before she hit the door, she rammed into something...no, someone else.

  Morrah chuckled at her and wrapped his arms around her. “Glad to see you have some fight left in you.”

  She jerked away from him. “You have me. Now let Chrissy go. That was the deal, wasn't it?” She met his gaze.

  “Yes, but first, you need to take her magic.”

  Sybil shook her head. “No. Chrissy has nothing to do with this. Let her go.”

  “Chrissy is a witch, blessed by Azazel with the powers of witchcraft. We must cleanse her, just like all the others. Just like Azazel should have used the Peregrine to do before he became fallen.”

  Sybil glanced at Chrissy and then to Morrah. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your bloodline, Sybil. You were Azazel's fail-safe. He gave the ability to one bloodline in case the creator didn't agree with what he did. But Azazel thought that the gift he'd given the humans was far better than what the creator thought. So he let the humans keep it. But the bloodline lived on. Now I'm correcting Azazel's mistake, and you will help me.”

  Sybil shook her head. “No. I won't. You don't control me. No one controls me.”

  Morrah shrugged. “How about this? Either you strip Chrissy of her magic, or I kill her. Your choice. Her blood will be on your hands.”

  Sybil stared at him. “And you call yourself an angel?”

  “I'm serving the creator. The end justifies the means. Witches are evil creatures who go against our creator. They need to be stripped of their magic to live as humans or die.”

  Sybil turned to Chrissy, unsure of what she'd want. Would she want to continue without her magic in life?

  Chrissy stood straight. “Fuck you, angel.”

  And then it happened in a blink of an eye. Morrah was in front of Chrissy, sword in her stomach, blood pouring down and dripping onto the floor.

  Sybil cried out and put a hand to her mouth. Morrah tore the sword out and looked at Sybil.

  “All you had to do was agree the first time, and she could have returned home alive.” He looked at the blood on his hand and then walked over.

  He put his bloodied hand against Sybil's cheek. “You could have saved her. But you gave her the choice. Now she's dead, and you're all alone until I bring the next witch.”

  Sybil's breath caught in her chest, and she tried to relearn how to breathe. Her eyes darted to Chrissy's body and then to Morrah. “You're a monster.”

  “We both are.” He laughed and disappeared. Leaving her with the corpse.

  Sybil backed up until her legs hit her bed. Chrissy was dead. It was her fault. And there was no way that Azazel could find her. Fuck.

  CHAPTER 8

  Two Weeks later

  * * *

  “There has been an increasing number of people disappearing. They have found many, but authorities report they are unsure of where the victims were or what happened to them.”

  “Turn it off, Dey.” Azazel snarled. “I don't need to hear it.”

  Dey reached over and turned the television off. “Any luck from your lead?”

  “No.” And each day that Sybil was gone and more witches disappeared, the more angry Azazel became. He damn near threw something at the television when the news reported another missing person.

  “The good thing is, we know that she's still alive”,” Dey tried, and Azazel glared at her.

  “At what cost?”

  Dey sighed. “I know, I know. I'm just trying to soothe you.”

  “You can't. My mate is missing. She's in danger, and I can't get to her.” He snarled. “Want to help? Figure out how to get a hold of Morrah.”

  Dey rolled her eyes and disappeared.

  Azazel could feel Sybil. Feel the shape she was in. Exhausted. Terrified. He needed her back with him.

  Two weeks. He refused to think Morrah had won on this. He needed Rae to answer his call.

  She was the only one he knew that could find Morrah's place and bring Sybil home. And that was only if he could convince her to do it. She could walk through all realms, and he needed her. Now.

  Another wave of panic coursed through him, and it wasn't his own. Sybil.

  She was trying to fight against Morrah again. He could feel her rage. Soon it would fade because Morrah would either squash it down or Sybil would be unconscious. There was no way to tell the difference, but Azazel hated the tug-of-war.

  His chest eased as the panic disappeared, and he closed his eyes. He was going insane.

  A chill went through the room, and he spun around to face the visitor. His face softened a bit. “Rae, you came.”

  “Hard not to answer your calls when you sent what? Five messengers?” She swept her long blonde braid over her shoulder. She folded her white and black wings against her back. “What do you need, Azazel?”

  He took a deep breath. “Sister, it’s been a while.”

  “Mm, yes, it has. What do you need?”

  “Morrah took my mate,” he muttered. Even saying it out loud hurt.

  “You have a mate now?” She laughed. “And you failed in protecting her.”

  He swallowed his pride. “Please, I know you can get to Morrah’s realm and get her back for me.”

  “And if Morrah kills me?” She crossed her arms. “You’ve fucked up once. Why should I go in there to be your mate’s savior?”

  She had a point. “Get me there, and I will save her.”

  Rae tapped her chin for a moment. “Fine.”

  “Fine? No exchange?”

  She grinned. “There will be an exchange, but we’ll see how hard of a job this is before I name the price.”

  “You’re popping me in there. I’m going to snag her, and we’re going to get out.”

  She shook her head. “It’s never that simple, brother. You should know that.”

  Again, she had a point. “Let’s go then.” He sent Dey a text of what was going on. “Sybil is most likely unconscious now, meaning Morrah has probably left her alone.”

  “Oh, brother.” She shook her head and held her hand out. “Come along.”

  He placed his hand in hers. She wrapped her fingers around it, and the office disappeared in a flash of bright light.

  When they reappeared, it was in a dark room, with only a fire to light it. The shadows bounced off the walls and covered the two other people in the room. Sybil lay in a heap on the floor, like she’d simply fallen and not caught herself. Azazel’s heart pounded, and he went to run to her.

  Rae put a hand on his shoulder. “Caution brother.” She motioned to the other person in the room.

  Morrah stepped further into the light. “Took you longer than I thought to get here. You aren't welcomed here, and you can't have her back.”

  “Rae. Leave.” Azazel stepped in front of her. “You shouldn't be here for this.”

  A flash of light and she disappeared. Morrah laughed. “Protective of her since your other sister died?”

  “It's no matter. I'm here to collect my mate and take her home.” Azazel inched closer to Sybil, willing her to wake. If she woke, maybe she could run to him and they could go.

  Morrah laughed. “You can take her. But know that I can always call her back because of the connection.”

  “You will sever that. She is my mate.”

  Morrah shrugged. “And she is my witch. Cleansing the world one witch at a time.”

  Sybil groaned and rolled onto her side. Azazel's stomach clenched when he saw blood smeared on her cheek. “What have you done to her?”

  “The blood? The mark of each witch she's killed the last two weeks. A reminder that all the deaths are on her hands. She's been more careful and faster lately, before the witches can defy her.”

  “You're a monster.”

  There had to be a place he could take her where Morrah couldn't get to her, not until they could sever the tie.

  The Chalice. No questions asked, magically protected, perfect.

  Sybil pushed herself up on her hands and knees, coughing a little. Pain filled Azazel's chest. She was in pain now, not just exhausted. He rushed toward her, calling on his wings.

  She looked up at him, shocked, as he landed in front of her, his wings spread to their full span. “It's okay now.”

  Shaking her head, she tried to back up. “Sword.” Her words came out as a rasp, and Azazel turned just in time to see Morrah attack. He called on his own sword and blocked the blow.

  “Sybil wants to stay here. She's accepted her fate.”

  He shook his head. “No. She's so much more than this.”

  “She's a monster you've created.” Morrah stepped back and went to attack again.

  Azazel blocked it and stepped back toward Sybil. “Touch my wing.” The moment he felt the soft brush of her fingers, he took them away.

  It was a dream. It had to be. She'd passed out after the last witch Morrah brought in. The witch didn't make it through the power struggle. It'd exhausted Sybil to passing out, but not before Morrah wiped the man's blood on her cheek. Another casualty that was her fault.

  When she'd woken, Azazel was standing there, his wings spread out. She lifted her arm to touch his wings, feeling the soft feather under her fingertips, before the hell she was in disappeared.

  But the world never reappeared until now. She felt the bed under her, not hard rock. Someone was in the room with her, but they didn't feel the same as Morrah. No, they felt like...

  “Azazel.” She shot up in the bed and searched around the room for him. The white walls of the room reminded her of a hospital, but the television sitting on a dresser, with a small desk next to it, said hotel room.

  Azazel stepped into her view. “You need to be laying down and resting.” He instantly sat by her side and ran his hand over her hair.

  “Where's Morrah? Where's the witch?” She grabbed his hand. “How did you get me?”

  He placed his hands on her cheeks and guided her to look at him. “Morrah's gone, for now. We're at The Chalice, safe, hidden from him.”

  “And the witch?”

  His gaze flickered away from his and she knew she'd killed another. That's why she remembered Morrah wiping the blood on her. She cringed back. “I... I need a shower.”

  “Let me help you?”

  She hesitated for a moment. “I...” She swallowed. “No.”

  His brows pulled together. “Sybil?”

  “I just need a few minutes alone with my thoughts.” She also couldn't promise that there weren't marks on her body from the times she tried to fight Morrah. She didn't want Azazel to see them. The anger and worry were already oozing off him. “Please? Why don't you order something to eat? I'm hungry.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking.

  Azazel nodded and kissed her gently. “If you're sure?”

  “I'll call you if I need you,” she promised and slowly got off the bed. Her body shook and her limbs felt heavy, but she forced herself to go to the bathroom. She smiled at the big soaking tube. She started the water, turning it hot as she'd be able to stand it, and then stripped her clothes off.

  Piece by piece, she dropped the dirty clothes and then looked in the mirror. She didn't look too bad. A few bruises here and there from passing out on the floor. A couple of spots where she could see handprints from where Morrah grabbed her. Tears welled up in her eyes when she noticed Azazel had to have cleaned the blood off her cheeks.

  Sybil took a deep breath before lowering herself into the bath, letting the hot water consume her sore body. She was safe for now, but they'd have to face Morrah. He couldn't continue his plan without her, so they at least put that on hold. Chrissy was her only friend, and he'd killed her.

  The tears fell then. She'd cause the death of her only friend. Her heart ached at the thought, and she couldn't stop the sobs bubbling from her mouth.

  Azazel was there in an instant. “Sybil?” He kneeled by the bath, and she shook her head.

  “I'm okay. I just... he killed Chrissy. And... and I killed others... and...” She couldn't speak through the sobs. “I just want this nightmare to end.”

  He kissed her head. “Lay back.”

  She leaned her head against the back of the tub, and he used his hand to cup water and pour it over her hair to wet it.

  “I'm going to do everything in my power to make this nightmare end,” he promised. “You'll stay here and recover while I face Morrah and whatever he sends after you.”

  She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of the water.

  “Dunk your head down,” he whispered, and she slid all the way into the tub and came back up.

  He reached for the soap and put some on his hands. “Right now, I want you just to focus on resting and healing. I don't know what all he did to you, but I know you're sore, I know you're scared, and I know you're tired.”

  “How do you know all that?” She focused on the way his fingers moved through her hair and massaged her scalp. She could melt into his touch right now, but that illusion shattered when he ran his fingers over a sore spot, and she flinched.

  “You and I are connected. We're mates. I can feel your pain. I can feel everything.” He turned the water on and helped position her so he could wash the soap out of her hair. “Every moment of it.”

  She swallowed and opened her eyes to look at him. “So you know what happened.”

  “I have theories, but I don't know exactly. When, if, you are ready to tell me, we'll talk about it. Until then, let me take care of you?”

  Guilt flooded through her at the idea that he knew what was happening. “I... Um... I'm sorry.”

  He put a finger against her lips. “No apologies. Care only.” He reached for the conditioner. “Let me pamper you.”

  She gave him a small smile and nodded, moving so he could take care of her.

  Azazel tucked Sybil into bed after making sure she was clean and had eaten. Her eyes closed instantly, and sleep took her quickly. He could not quell his anger. He needed to go out and kill Morrah for hurting his mate.

  Azazel didn’t miss the bruises that dotted her body, or the way she moved that told him she was sore.

  Dey appeared. “Another dead witch showed up.” She glanced at Sybil, and then at Azazel. “How is she?”

  “Full of guilt. She’ll heal physically.”

  “Mentally?” Dey asked, and he shrugged.

  “Morrah spread the blood of the dead witches on her face. Telling her that their blood was on her hands. I never should have given her bloodline this ability.” He shook his head. “I can’t take it from her now though. It’s embedded in her magic.”

  Dey leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “So, what about taking Morrah’s abilities? Angels have magic. It’s different from what you gave the humans, but in theory, the same thing would work, right?”

  He thought about it. “I don’t know if it’s safe for her.” He ran his hand over Sybil’s hair, and she let out a content sigh. “Has my sister been back at the office?”

  Dey nodded. “I told her where she could find you, so I have a feeling she’ll probably drop by later. She said something about payment.”

  “Yeah, I owe her for taking me to Morrah.”

  Dey shrugged. “You could have met your end there. You’re lucky Sybil was aware enough to warn you.”

  He was, because he was too distracted by her to think of his own safety. “Next time I face him, she’ll be safely hidden away.” Because like hell he was going to let Morrah hurt her again.

  Sybil let out a whimper and turned onto her side. A tear gathered at the corner of her eye, and he sighed.

  “Azreal has his therapy practice in the underworld now. Might see if they have a spot to see her,” Dey offered. “No human therapist is going to help this.”

  He nodded. “After I deal with Morrah, then we’ll get her mental help. She won’t go without,” he promised. “And she’ll have the shop and be able to see her family again. She’ll want for nothing.” Anger filled him again. Morrah had taken so much from her in three weeks.

  “I can feel your anger now.” Sybil’s voice was small. “None of this is your fault.”

  He sat next to her. “I’m angry about how Morrah has wrecked your life.”

  “Because of what I am.” She slowly sat up. “I’m a monster. A killer.”

  He shook his head and touched her cheek. “You’re not thinking straight. You’re not a monster, or a killer. Morrah forced your hand in every situation.”

  She pressed her lips together and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You don’t understand. I’ve killed half the witches Morrah brought to me. I stole magic that didn’t belong to me and left witches defenseless. I hurt my own kind. I...I...” She started sobbing again and Azazel pulled her close.

  “Shussh, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He rocked her. “You need to go back to sleep.”

  She shook her head. “No, because I see them. All of them. They hate me for what I’ve done.”

  Azazel looked at Dey. “Find something to help her sleep? Maybe Sunset Apothecary has something.”

  She nodded. “I’ll go check. Need anything else while I’m out?”