Page 126 of Forging Darkness

“Fine. I’ll play along. Forsaken are the result of what happens when an angel-born or a willing human merges with a Fallen. When they merge, the Fallen takes over autonomy of the host’s body.” I incline my head in her direction. “Usually. We’ve recently learned that’s not always the case. After they merge, a Forsaken is created. Forsaken absorb the power of the host, but not the individual abilities like shifting or casting or control of the elements. They can travel unfettered between the spirit realm and mortal world, just like a Nephilim, but their true character is revealed in the spirit realm, which is why they’re so fugly there.

“Forsaken are also confined to the dark in each world because—just like the vampire myths they helped create—the sun will burn them. Oh, and also like a vampire, they have a taste for blood. Major ‘ew’ factor, by the way.” Leaning forward I rest my arms on the shiny metal table. “How’s that? Did I hit the major highlights? Or are you going to further enlighten me?”

She slow claps. The chains hanging down from her cuffs clank together with the movement. “Congratulations. Looks like you have the gist.”

“So, I’ll repeat. Why do you want to be restored to a Nephilim?”

“Because I want to shed the limitations of a Forsaken. And of course I’d like to be able to tan up a bit as well. Pasty is too hard of a look to pull off.”

I ignore the snark, my mind whirling on her real reasons. “You want your angel-born powers and to be able to walk unfettered in the daylight. To what end?”

“My own, of course. If you think I’m going to look out for anyone but myself, you’re mistaken.” She dips her chin and cranes her head slowly toward the mirror. Her eyes thin to slits as she gazes past her reflection. “I’ve only ever been able to rely on myself anyway.”

That jab probably found purchase in Steel’s and his parents’ hearts.

“How are we going to know anything you tell us is the truth?”

That’s really for the Council to worry about, but we need a subject change. It works. After she cracks her neck, Silver’s posture returns to lazy indifference and she goes back to staring at her nails.

“I have no skin in the game. After I’m turned back into a Nephilim, my old crew isn’t going to want me anymore.” She means Thorne and whatever is left of his army. “I don’t have a problem with the angel-born. I’m happy to part with some secrets as long as they agree to let me go my own way after.”

I lift my eyebrows. Malachi didn’t mention Silver’s release being part of her conditions as well. I wonder if the Durands knew about that? Well, if they didn’t before, they do now.

Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I run my teeth over it as I consider the situation. The Council must think Silver has a great deal of knowledge of Thorne’s agenda to ever agree to something like this. All he revealed to me were general ideas and vague hints at the future he wanted to create, in which Fallen and Forsaken rule humans and aren’t trapped in either realm. If Silver could provide the Council with information on how to thwart his plans, and she accepted the risks, trying to restore her would be worth it. But if I fail, Steel’s whole family will experience losing her all over again.

I wave once at the mirror, giving the signal I’m done, and push back from my seat. I’m striding the short distance to the door when Silver speaks.

“Well? Have I passed the test?”

The door buzzes and the lock disengages. Grasping the handle, I glance at her over my shoulder. She regards me with a hooded gaze.

“With flying colors.”

Chapter Forty-One

One of Silver’s demands is that Steel be with me when I turn her back. I’m not sure exactly why, but it’s not something I’m opposed to. In fact, I’m glad he’s here. I’m jittery as I pace in the large training room roughly the size of a basketball court. Finally out of the hotel sweats, I’m in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, tank top, and chunky heeled combat boots. Fashionable, yet functional. But who really cares because I’ll be phasing to the spectrum world as soon as they bring Silver in.

I agreed to this arrangement without protest, but it doesn’t feel right. I could kill Silver so easily. I may not like her, but the thought of killing someone outside of a battle feels too close to murder for me.

I shake out my hands then clench them into fists.

“Hey, relax.” Steel comes up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders and kneading the tense muscles. “It’s going to be all right.”

Mmmm. That feels nice.

“You don’t know that,” I argue. “And how can you be so calm right now?”

“Want to know a secret?” he whispers in my ear, doing an effective job distracting me. “I’m not.”

Craning my neck to the side, I catch his eye. His face is blank, but there’s a restlessness behind his gaze I can see if I search deep enough.

A door slams open across from us and in walks Silver with two Nephilim guards. Her hands are bound behind her back as she struts forward, looking more like she’s on a catwalk than possibly marching to her own death.

“Should we go out and give you guys a few more moments,” she asks. “You look cozy.”

Steel’s hands slide off me, and he steps away. His expression hardens as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares Silver down.

“So, how are we doing this thing? Should I stand up against the wall so you can blast me with your lightning bolts? Lie down so I don’t hurt my pretty face when I fall?”

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