Page 16 of Grave Revelations

He scanned the beach for boats or signs of movement but saw none. Lifting higher into the sky, he sped along the coastline, trailing his gaze over the beaches, searching for the fast-moving creatures and the aura they left behind, leaking borrowed life force as they went.

Heraklion was the largest major port on the south side of Crete and the least likely for her to use. There, he saw no creatures, but neither did he see any humans. Sitia was much the same.

Azazel stopped in Lerapetra, eyeing rows of boats of various shapes and sizes. He sent a breeze out, casting it toward the docks, and listened for signs of disruption to the natural order. His own wrongness muffled his ability to sense others who didn’t belong on the mortal plane, but he pressed his awareness to its limit, searching.

His mind wandered as he let his senses work. Had he given Rebecca too much information? A human mind could only process so much, but she was no mere human. If she would only give in to the power thrumming beneath her skin rather than fear it, she would find her magic was virtually limitless.

There were other things she needed to know, important details that couldn’t wait much longer. Should they enlist the help of any other witches, he had to explain how power-sharing truly worked. The witches weren’t at fault, not really. They only knew how it worked among one another. They had never shared their gifts with Nephilim.

Her father had known, thanks to Astaroth. Had used her to extend his own life by far too many years.

Although the broken connection with his father still pained him, he didn’t regret losing that insufferable need to do what was right for the rest of humanity at the cost of his other half.

And he would never choose them over her again.

Chapter 9

Rebecca

Rebecca wrapped the blankets tighter around herself, staring out the single window Azazel had created in their room. Her brain felt like mush.

Her ancestor or her—if Azazel was to be believed—had died to trap Sanura in Sheol. And Sanura’s soulmate had somehow twisted the magic to end everyone in her line, not just Ada.

Then, what did Azazel mean when he said he traded one of his gifts for the men?

Thoughts were jumbled in her mind, swirling together, and she couldn’t make sense of them. How had any of that answeredherquestion? She was lucky to get one-word answers from Gabriel and when he finally chose to speak, it only confused her more. But he wasn’t Gabriel; she had to keep reminding herself of that. The creature who had trapped her with him was something else.

Just as she was.Nephilim.

Her throat was dry, and she thought back to his suggestion to call water from the earth. If he wasn’t lying and using her magic wouldn’t drain her, it would be worth it for a drink.

She stood, pulling the edges of her blankets up around her ears, and strode to the nearest wall. Running her hands over it, she searched for a seam or weak spot to push through.

It was solid.

Exhaling a long breath, she pressed her palms to the surface, imagining it crumbling away. Dirt and debris sloughed under her touch, bits sliding down to the floor, but it remained intact. She bit her lower lip, pressing against dirt, and tried again.

More soil came loose, but the wall must have been incredibly thick because her efforts hadn’t made a dent. She huffed, searching for a thin spot. He’d made it surprisingly spacious for a one-night stay. Her gaze snagged on the small window beside the bed and she crossed the room, dropping her blankets, and stepped onto its arm. It was a tight fit, but she could make it.

Rebecca wedged herself into the hole and pushed off the chair, hanging halfway out the window. Squirming against the dirt circle, she wriggled her arms free and pressed off the outside wall.

Landing in a heap on the ground, she stood, dusting her arms and legs. Surprisingly, there was no blinding pain. What had he said? The pain only came when she was actively intending to leave him. Whatever strange bond they had didn’t seem to be rattled by her decision to go out in search of water.

Spinning in a circle, she shivered at the sudden chill. It was several degrees cooler out here than it had been inside. Was that some magic trick of Azazel’s as well?

She spied his pink swim shorts tossed against a tree branch and smirked.

Moving between thick trunks to a place where moonlight filtered through the canopy, she held up her hands and hummed. Was that right? She felt ridiculous, but that was how the other witches had called rain.

“Don’t be afraid of it,” she told herself, splaying her fingers wide.

Nothing happened. And why would it? Her magic wasn’t called through song or by any external element. It wasinher. At her core, some invisible ember rested, waiting to be set free. But opening the safe where she’d sealed it away meant unlocking all the feelings that came with it.

She wasn’t ready for that.

The ground shook as a hulking shape landed beside her.

“What are you doing out here?” Azazel growled.

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