Page 138 of Grave Revelations

He hadn’t expected to come back. With the magic in Primoria drained, he should have remained dead, and perhaps Azazel had. He hardly dared hope he’d been forgiven. But when he’d awoken on that cool sandy floor below Rebecca’s family home, his skin was warm and no longer burned with the dark swirling magic that marked him as a damned thing, and most important of all, his wings were pure white, all the hints of silver he’d accrued over the millennia wiped away.

It hadn’t mattered to him when Rebecca was gone. He’d reveled in the pain searing through every part of him as his body mended, even knowing it meant he still existed when she did not. Alone in that dark room, he contemplated all the ways he might end himself or suffer boundless torture trying. Then Sophia had arrived. The nasdaqu-ush he’d imagined flaying alive countless times since he found her in the caves of Demre, draining his mate’s life away.

But she’d brought hope. Hope that all was not lost. If Rebecca was in Sheol, perhaps she could find her way to Alaxia.

He paced the small space beneath the Graves mansion, rubbing his chin. It was unheard of. No seraph had ever been brought back into the fold after they’d fallen, but if it was his only chance to be with her, he had to know if it was true.

Gabriel dissolved into dust, reappeared outside her home, and launched into the sky, thinking of Alaxia.

He landed just outside the gates and let his wings stretch wide, reminding himself they were white once more. He crouched, preparing to launch himself over the gate when Raphael landed, blocking his path.

“Brother.” Raphael laid one hand on the sword sheathed at his side, his form lighting the surrounding ground. “Thou shalt not trespass here.”

“I’m restored. I am Gab… riel.” Some last vestige of fear was expelled as he exhaled the words. They were true.

Raphael’s eyebrows rose as he seemed to take in his brother’s transformation. “But… how?”

“I’ve been forgiven.” He tasted the truth of his words. Even after all he’d done, his Father had forgiven him.

A wide grin broke over Raphael’s face, his glow intensifying. He moved forward, clapping Gabriel on the shoulder. “Mary will be so pleased. And Di…” Her name died on his lips. He pulled Gabriel into a rough hug. “Come. Come through the gates and return home.”

The massive pearly gates, barring entrance to all who were unworthy, swung wide, and some piece of Gabriel’s soul lightened, knowing he’d been given a second chance.

This time, he vowed to himself to do what was right.

Chapter 92

Sophia

Sophia slid to a halt beside the other witches, and her gaze drifted across what remained of her bedraggled coven. They were tired, their energy drained. While she and the other night-beings had spent the day in Sheol, they’d fought. She looked past them to the ocean.

The world had been transformed in a matter of days. So much death and destruction littered the land that even the water was a swirling crimson tide. Filled with the dead—human and demonic—the Earth appeared to bleed.

In the sky, angelic beings still fought with dark, wispy creatures. Lucifer couldn’t have known that merging Earth and Hell would mean ending their immortality, but it had been the one thing that might give them any chance at victory.

Sophia dashed into the nearby convenience store, stepping over shattered glass along the sidewalk and grabbing jugs of water from the shelves, loading as many as she could carry into her arms before racing back to her coven, passing them out to each woman.

Dropping to her knees beside her mother, she lifted the plastic jug from Angeliki’s trembling hands and tore the lid off, handing it back. Angeliki sagged against her shoulder, raising the water to her lips. Some spilled over her face as a tremor racked her, and Sophia lifted it from her mother’s hands and held it to her mouth.

“Rest, Mama,” she said, passing the jug to Maria and pulling her mother against her side.

“There’s no time. The angels need our help.”

“Shhh. Mama, they are immortal, and your sisters are here. We’ll help them.”

Her mother gave her a grateful nod, letting her eyes fall closed. Sophia slid her sweater off her shoulders, balling it up and lifted Angeliki’s head, setting it gently on the fabric. It was telling that the witches were too exhausted to find a place indoors to rest. Still, with so many buildings reduced to rubble in the wake of all that firepower shooting from the sky, perhaps they thought they had better odds of survival out here along the coastline where there was less fighting.

Sophia stood, dusting mud from her knees, and glanced back one last time at her mother and the other sleeping witches before she whistled low, calling the other night-beings to join her.

Helena, Maria, and Vassi raced to meet her, leaving the still-living members of their coven to rest. Sophia eyed the group, a plan forming in her mind. Her gaze lingered on Vassi. She was the strongest of the other three, and her strength with water magic was nearly unmatched.

“Vassi, stay here to watch over everyone. Maria and Helena, come with me.”

Vassi nodded, a steely resolve in her gaze.

Sophia followed bursts of yellow and white in the cloud cover far overhead until she reached the largest concentration of angels and demons.

Her mouth fell slack as she took in the scene. Piled in great heaping mounds were dark, lifeless forms, and between them, bent at odd angles, a few snowy, gold-slicked wings protruded.

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