Page 137 of Legacy of Chaos

She dashed away tears and scrambled in her purse for a tissue. “Nothing, I’m just…why are you here?”

“We’re bonded, remember? I could feel how upset you were.”

“And you came running?” Smiling through her sniffles, she patted him on the arm. “That’s so sweet.”

“Are you okay?”

She inhaled, blew out a long breath, and gave the apartment one last look. “I am,” she said, and she meant it.

Shanea had reminded her of something very important. She reminded her that memories weren’t bad. And she’d reminded her to live.

So, as she and her new mate walked out of the apartment, she didn’t cry when the door closed softly behind her.

Because another door had opened, and it led to new memories.

And a new life.

Epilogue 1: Gabriel

Sewers reeked, but they were safe.

Mostly.

Rats were usually the worst of the things that bothered Gabriel, but they didn’t bother him for long. Their blood and flesh nourished him. Before he’d fallen from Heaven, he’d have been disgusted by the thought of eating a raw rat. But now, he had fangs and a mild craving for blood, so…whatever. He figured he only needed to eat another fifty or so to be at full strength.

Not that full strength for an Unfallen was anything to be excited about. Most Unfallen had no powers, their connection with Heaven severed. A few could tap into a little power if their wing anchors hadn’t been completely destroyed during the removal of their wings. And some used magical or cursed items to gather evil energy around them so they could have at least some measure of defense against those who would give anything to drag an Unfallen into Sheoul against their will, turning them evil beyond their wildest imaginations.

Anger and hatred scoured his veins like acid. How dare Zaphkiel do this to him? The shock of it still sat in his chest, often leaving him numb before the anger took over.

He shifted against the stone walls of Jerusalem’s ancient sewer system, wincing at the sharp pain in his back. He didn’t know how many days he’d sat in misery after stumbling and crawling his way here from the top of Mount Megiddo, but it seemed like he should be more healed than he was.

A dull ache radiated from his wing anchors through his upper body and all the way to his head. Fever racked him, and every bone ached.

He’d been injured before, far worse than this, but he’d healed nearly instantly, a couple of hours at the most. But this…was this how humans and animals felt when they were sick or dying? Because it sucked.

Maybe he should try to get to Underworld General. But first, he needed to find a Harrowgate. He’d never used one before, but if demons could operate them, he shouldn’t have a problem.

Correction, he thought as he fell flat on his face while attempting to stand.First, I need to be able to stand up.

He groaned and pushed up to his hands and knees. His arms and legs trembled with the effort it took to do even that.

Another surge of fury intensified the fever in his blood, and sweat rolled down his face and neck. Those fuckers! Did they not know what they’d done? The End of Days was coming, and Heaven would be short one very powerful warrior. Worse, they risked him becoming a True Fallen and fighting on the side of evil.

Fools. He would survive this, and he was going to destroy every one of those bastards. He just had to either earn redemption the way Reaver had, or hope that Reaver and the Archangels escaped their prisons and overthrew the Thrones.

Rage gave him the strength to shove to his feet. His head spun, and he lurched up against a wall, bracing himself as he retched. All that rat coming back up made him sick again, and again, until he was racked with dry heaves.

“Ooh, what have we here?”

The female voice made him jump, and he wheeled around, his unsteady legs barely holding him upright. He squinted through watery eyes, pain making for narrow tunnel-vision.

She stood in shadows thrown by bends in the sewer channel and streams of light from overhead cracks and grates. Tall, curvy, and dressed in black, she watched him with glowing red eyes. Power pumped through the air like a pulse, tapping on his tender skin. Oddly, the waves of pressure both hurt and tingled pleasantly. The tingle, in fact, filled him, becoming almost…arousing.

“Who are you?”

“I’m someone who can help you.” Her velvet voice flowed over him like a caress, and he cursed, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“The only demon who can help me is a doctor. So, unless you can deliver me to Underworld General, begone foul beast.”

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