Riley bowed her head, not because the reverend had asked them to, but because it felt right. If Sartael and his demons were on their way, this might be her last time to send a personal message to God. She doubted prayer was an option in Hell.

  Please keep Beck safe. Let him have those kids he wants, even if they’re not with me. I’m lost, but he deserves a good life.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, his hand tightened around her waist protectively.

  The prayer ended and Lopez took a few steps closer to the crowd. “Are you ready to reclaim your city?” he cried.

  More cheering now. As he continued to raise the crowd’s enthusiasm to a fever pitch, Riley’s eyes moved to her fellow trappers, one by one. They were vigilant, not caught up in the moment. Simon’s bright blond hair was easy to spot where he stood next to Harper, a sheathed sword in his hand. When he saw her, he nodded in return.

  “By the power given to me by the Almighty himself,” Lopez drawled. “I call forth all the Hellspawn in this city. Come forth, servants of darkness. Come forth and meet thy Holy Master—”

  The earth shook, and though Lopez paled, he kept exhorting the demons to come forth. The tremors ceased, causing many in the crowd to sigh in relief.

  The time grows near, Ori whispered in her mind.

  Riley’s body ignited in a flood of heat and she gasped at the sensation. The tattoo on her right palm began to pulsate, the call to battle. Very shortly the sword would appear, and the entire world would know her secret.

  I summon you to my side, Riley Anora Blackthorne.

  Shaking now, she tipped up on her toes and placed a lingering kiss on Beck’s lips.

  “I love you, Den,” she said, touching his face with the back of her glowing hand. “Stay alive, you hear?”

  “You, too. Let’s get this settled once and for all. I’ve had enough of this crap.” As Beck reached to touch her, a tremor shot through her soul. Hellish voices roared in her ears, proclaiming war.

  Sartael has been freed.

  Before she had the chance to warn Peter, cries of shock came from around them as the crowd parted in panic. A lone figure strode forward through their midst, wings unfurled, sword blazing white hot in the night air.

  Ori. The angel was definitely out of the closet.

  When the tingle in her fingers became an inferno, Riley didn’t bother to look down. Her sword was fully formed now.

  “What the heck is—” Peter began

  “Go home. Go be with your family.”

  He blinked. “End of the World stuff, again?” he moaned.

  “Yeah. I love you. Keep yourself safe, okay?”

  Before she could stop him, he gave her a hug, then stepped back. “Same to you,” he said solemnly.

  Riley strode through the crowd to join up with the angel. Though she had no wings, the fiery sword in her hand told the story to those who understood. Ori was her demi-lord, and she was in Hell’s yoke. As she passed Simon, she caught his expression, a mix of awe and immense sadness.

  You were right about me, but for the wrong reasons.

  When she and Ori took positions in front of the stage Lopez stammered to a halt, caught by the sight of the winged warrior and his young female apprentice.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I am Ori, the Prince’s chief executioner,” Ori replied in a voice that had to have carried to the ends of the earth.

  “Have you come to kill me?”

  “No, you are not my enemy,” the angel replied.

  The air around them grew volatile, explosive. When a jagged spear of lightning impacted a nearby building, throwing sparks high into the night, the crowd reacted with shrieks and the sound of running footsteps.

  Ori raised his eyes to the heavens. “Sartael is nigh.” He turned and gazed over a shoulder, his eyes locking on Beck. “Remember your promise, trapper.”

  Her boyfriend nodded grimly.

  “What promise?” Riley asked. “What did you—”

  A near-deafening boom shattered the air above them, causing her to jump in startled surprise. Just like at the cemetery, their enemy descended to the ground clad in his simple black monk’s robe, his wings flapping noiselessly. There was no evidence of the wounds Sartael had sustained in Hell.

  “It’s the Devil!” someone shouted.

  No, but just about as bad.

  Ori’s blade dipped downward as if he was acknowledging a superior. Sartael noted the gesture, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light.

  “We meet again, old friend.” Their enemy’s feet lightly touched the earth and his attention moved to Riley. “What is this? How does she wield the Divine fire?”

  “What do you offer in exchange for my allegiance?” Ori asked.

  “What do you wish?”

  “Death. I wish the respite that nothingness will bring. And the promise of safety for the soul I hold.”

  Sartael’s eyebrows rose. “If you serve me, I shall allow you to die. In fact, I will ensure you do so.”

  “What of Riley Anora Blackthorne?” Ori asked.

  Riley shivered at the madness in his blue eyes when the Archangel’s attention moved to her.

  “I will hold her safe,” Lucifer’s enemy promised.

  He’s lying. He will put us both in chains and you know it.

  There was a sigh in her mind. Yes, he will.

  “I detest my master’s endless schemes,” Ori said, his voice louder now. “But he is not you, Sartael.”

  For a moment their rival appeared confused as to whether this was praise or not.

  “Swear your allegiance, Ori, and that of the mortal soul you hold, and I shall free you. Lucifer’s reign is ending. Even now, in Hell, my demons are cutting through his forces. Join with me. Rule with me. We shall challenge Heaven and retake what is ours. Then you shall regain that peace you so desire.” Sartael’s eyes were still on Riley, though, and they made her skin crawl.

  Her angel gave her a quick glance. “Yes, I shall join you in the nothingness. I hate Lucifer for denying me final death, but you are a traitor to my master and I will not allow you to destroy this city, or those in my care.”

  I will not permit him to harm you, Riley Anora Blackthorne. You are the closest to Heaven I shall ever be, now that I am Fallen.

  It took Sartael a moment to comprehend that once again Ori wasn’t going to play his game. He reared back, furious. “You’ve always been willing to lick Lucifer’s boots. I will devour your heart after I rip it from your chest. And I will do worse to the soul you hold, for her father betrayed me.”

  Remember what I taught you, Riley.

  I will, angel. Good hunting.

  “Shall we, old friend?” Ori said, raising his sword.

  The Divines’ swords clashed on impact as they rose into the air to fight one last time. Riley backed off, knowing this really wasn’t her battle. Tense, she swept the scene, looking for threats: The mad Archangel never did anything without backup. Beck and the other trappers were also on the alert. He caught her eye and nodded. His said all that mattered.

  I love you, too.

  The reverend kept intoning Bible verses, not quite comprehending that this war had little to do with Heaven. Standing near him was one of the cameramen from the Demonland crew, filming for all he was worth.

  That’s just what we need.

  “Heads up, lads,” Stewart called out.

  Grade Three demons poured over the crumbled walls in a solid wave. Riley froze, then she forced herself to shake off the fear. No matter how she looked at it, she was dead one way or another, and that macabre reality gave her courage. Some of it was bravado, but it felt right, so she made it her own. It was either that or totally freak out.

  As she moved forward to challenge one of the Threes, the ground near Lopez began to heave in rolling waves. After a final prayer, he ran for it, and not a moment too soon. Out of the broken earth rose a towering figure, a Geo-Fiend, seven feet worth of unbridled menace, topped by a bull’s head. Its blazing red eyes went directly to Riley.

  “Blackthorne’s Daughter!” it cried.

  Here we go again.

  It was the shorter figures clustered around the Five who were the really bad news. Riley did a quick head count—nine Archfiends, in all their evil glory. That was three times the number they’d fought in the cemetery, and this time there were no demon hunters to help them.

  A figure in a swirling black cloak stepped forward as magic burst from the tip of his upraised staff and encompassed the closest Archfiend. The demon promptly burst apart in brilliant curls of flame.

  “Go, Ozy!” she cried. That totally rocks.

  The Five roared its fury, but it didn’t move, allowing the Archfiends to break ranks and flank the necromancer. Ozymandias might be the most powerful summoner in the city, but there was no way he could take down eight of those monsters at once.

  Beck was next to her now, his blade unsheathed.

  “Looks like Ozy needs our help,” she said. The same necro who had stolen her father away from her.

  “This really bites, you know?” Beck replied.

  “Same here.”

  They took off at a run.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  As Beck made for the Archfiend farthest to the left, Riley veered to the right, making sure to give the necro and his magic as much room as possible. The fiend she chose was a smaller one, but just as vicious as any of its kind. Its three pairs of bloodred eyes glared at her from a domed skull and the four sickle-shaped teeth had been sharpened to needle points. With a furious flap of its wings, it leapt into the air above her, its smoking sword aimed to decapitate her.

  As Ori had taught her, she dropped and rolled out of the way of the blade, then spun and cut at the closest wing. The first pass she missed the demon entirely and the fiend chided her.

  “I will drink your blood this night,” it crowed.

  The second dive brought it closer, as if it’d decided she was no serious threat. One of the wingtip claws caught the back of her jacket, ripping it.

  Furious, Riley swung at it, but missed again. Stumbling a few steps, she tried to regain her balance. Instinct made her turn, and she buried the burning blade deep into the fiend’s chest as it dove at her. It shrieked, then weaved erratically in the air, black smoking blood pouring from the wound. With a dying howl, it fell and the ground shook from the impact.

  “Riley!” Simon called out.

  She ducked as another blade swung so close she could feel the fire singe her skin. Her ex advanced on the larger Archfiend.

  “Come on, I’m the one you want,” he called out, giving her time to recover her footing.

  They double-teamed the monster, driving it backward. When it rose in the air to dive at them, they’d split apart and it couldn’t decide which one to target. Unfortunately, the Archfiend learned the trick too quickly. When it rose again, it tracked toward Simon, sailing low across the ground, its curved blade positioned to slice him in half.

  Riley rushed underneath the wings. As the fiend passed over her, she raised her blade and it severed one of the main wing tendons. Unable to fly, the demon tried to compensate, but it crashed into Simon. The trapper’s sword fell from his hand as they rolled over and over in a jumble of wings and legs. As Riley ran to help him, another Archfiend blocked her way. She hacked at it, parrying thrusts, but her moves weren’t as fast as before.

  “Your demi-lord weakens,” the demon taunted.

  She aimed a blow at its wing, then pivoted at the last second. The blade caught the Archfiend in the throat, and it reeled back. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but it bought her time to reach Simon. Somehow, he’d regained his feet and was once again battling his own foe.

  With a cry of triumph, he decapitated his Archfiend, the demon’s head rolling away, stunned surprise its last expression. Nearby another fiend fell under Jackson’s sword.

  Though Beck was bloodied, he was gaining ground against one of the Archfiends. The two masters, along with the other trappers, were addressing the Threes, reducing their ranks as if they were at a slaughterhouse. Fighting next to them was Ayden, her blade slashing with deadly precision. Blue flashes of magic lit up every now and then like oversized fireflies.

  There was a scream and Riley turned to discover that a group of bystanders were trapped against the remains of a building, with no escape. Moving closer to them was a pack of Gastro-Fiends, their claws bloodied, with an Archfiend in the lead.

  “No!”

  She’d taken only a few steps when a winged figure appeared in between the frightened citizens and the ravenous demons. It was a Fallen, with ash-gray wingtips and brilliant blue eyes.

  Please don’t be one of Sartael’s guys.

  The angel observed her coolly, then shook his head. Then he barked something in Hellspeak at the Threes and the Archfiend leading them. The demons’ leader shouted something back and the war was on. It was no contest as one by one the fiends fell under the angel’s blinding white sword. When they were all dead, he remained in position, guarding the mortals, his face solemn. Behind him, people wept, and some were on their knees, praying.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “Whoever you are.”

  I am Gusion and I am heeding the call of a friend.

  A cry of rage brought her attention back to Ori and their enemy. They were no longer in the air but fighting across the wreckage of Demon Central. Her demi-lord was losing the battle, growing steadily slower with each sword thrust. Sartael, on the other hand, seemed as strong as ever.

  The ethereal blade in Riley’s hand vanished, evidence that Ori wasn’t going to last much longer. If he had shared his power with her, could the Archangel pull strength from his demons? Of course he can.

  It was time to do some good old-fashioned trapping. When Riley sprinted to where her pack lay on the ground, she found Peter crouched near the makeshift fence.

  “Why are you still here?” she demanded.

  “Because you are,” he replied, his chin out, defiant.

  “Ah, geez. Okay, then you can help me.”

  She pointed at a trapping bag that sat a short distance away, though she had no idea who it belonged to. “Pull out all of the blue spheres. Hurry!”

  Digging through the bag, her friend did as she asked while Riley did the same in her pack.

  Peter held up two orbs. “Now what?”

  When Riley told him exactly what he needed to do, he nodded. A feminine hand extended in their direction. It was attached to Blaze, her hair askew and a dark smudge on her cheek.

  “I’ll help too,” she said. “These things have to be stopped.”

  Riley gaped at the actress. “This isn’t a TV show.”

  “Duh,” the actress replied, waggling her fingers now. “Hand them over.”

  She reluctantly placed the spheres into the woman’s palm. “Let’s go kick some demon butt, people.”

  Peter sped off, dodged a rampaging Three, then tracked along the temporary fence on the other side of the battlefield. Blaze did the same in the opposite direction. Once they were in place, Riley gave them the signal. Spheres hit the ground, broke open, and energetic blue lines of magic leapt to the fence. The magic seemed to take a deep breath, then zipped along the metal, wire by wire.

  Now it was Riley’s turn. She sprinted to her sections of the fence, dropping the magical spheres as she went. When all four sides were engaged, the Geo-Fiend would be grounded and Sartael would be deprived of some of his power.

  Or at least that was the plan.

  The final run of grounding magic connected all four sections of the metal together and began to pull the demon toward the earth. The Five reacted like they always did, shrieking and trying to rise higher to avoid contact with the ground. Hail hammered down and erratic winds buffeted the trappers. When a Three began a run at her, it went down with one sweep of Stewart’s massive claymore. Another died a short time later when Ayden stepped in its way.

  Abruptly the grounding magic ended and the fiend began to rise again. It turned its blazing eyes on the two masters, lightning sparking out of its claws. Stewart swung his sword, loosening up his shoulders. He was singing a song in Gaelic, she thought. Harper stood next to him, sweat on his forehead. One by one the trappers lined up, facing down the Five. Behind her she could feel Ori fading away, his life force dwindling.

  Unexpectedly, Mort stepped in front of the trappers, his hands seething in magic. Next to him was Ozymandias, who seemed to be coaching him on how to handle the incantation. With a bright snap, the magic shot out of the junior necromancer’s fingers and enveloped the Geo-Fiend. The fiend fought against the spell, but slowly the winds dropped, and the hail ended.

  A shout of joy erupted from the trappers when the Five fell to the ground, its power draining away. It bellowed and struggled as another earth tremor leveled one of the decrepit buildings nearby. Without warning, two massive claws erupted from the ground and clamped themselves around the torso of the Geo-Fiend. It flailed against its captor, its ruby eyes reflecting endless terror.

  “Traitor to the end,” a voice called out, and then the fiend was dragged deep into the hole, wailing its death cry.

  Lucifer had begun his purge of Hell.

  Riley . . .

  Ori was on his knees now, face white, his chest a mass of blue blood. His flaming blade faltered and died.

  “No!” she shouted, racing toward him. She skidded to a halt and fell to her knees. As she cradled the angel, Beck took a defensive position between them and Sartael, sword at the ready. In his own way, he was granting Riley time to say goodbye to her first lover.

  “Valiant Light,” Ori whispered, trying in vain to touch her face, but he could not raise his injured arm high enough.

  She became aware of an angel kneeling next to them. It was Gusion, the one who had fought the demons.