Page 45 of The River of Hatred

I crouch down and grab his chin. “Look at me,” I command. “I said, look at me.” I shake him to the sounds of Jess’ protests.

“Why are you so rough?” she asks.

“He needs to hurry the fuck up,” I growl. “He’s incredibly vulnerable like this.”

Itha’s eyes open and he struggles to focus on our faces. Once he comes to the realization that the damage his form sustained is critical, he stubbornly looks at the mortal.

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” I promise. “But if you delay much longer, it’ll be just me and her in the human world, and the first thing I’m doing is taking her to a brothel.”

Even gravely injured, Itha manages to roll his pale gray eyes at me. With one last look at the mortal girl, he turns into pearlescent gray beams of light, the radiance of him reflecting in Jessica’s wide-open, enamored orbs.

This time I roll my eyes. Dusting myself off, I help her stand up too. She’s still gazing at him as I pick up my weapon and flick the demon’s blood off it.

“Can you talk to us?” she asks Ithuriel, her voice dazed. I forgot what effect the angelic form has on humans – it’s been so long since we revealed ourselves to any, even before I fell.

After a beat of hesitation, Itha’s voice rings in our minds.

Yes.

“Woah.” She grabs her head and I snort.

Are you both unharmed?

“Yup,” I answer, wishing he had a back I could slap him on. “You generously offered your body as a punching bag so we could take him down. Actually,” I correct myself, “Jessica took him down, I just distracted him once you stopped moving and being an interesting target.”

Ithuriel’s tendrils of light pulse twice as if in pleasure.

Well done, Jessica.

Why am I suddenly jealous of a baby human?

“Aw, I got lucky.” She waves off the praise. “Is it dead?”

“No,” I hum, pulling her scimitar out of the bottom of the demon’s skull with a squelch. I wipe it off on one of his tattered wings. “In fact, he’s gonna be up pretty damn quick, so we might wanna move.”

“Can I touch you?” Jess asks Ithuriel, ignoring me, still gazing at the angel like a lovestruck fool.

I snort and tug on her ponytail. “In-cor-po-re-al,” I sound out. I kiss her cheek and linger, enjoying the heat of her blush against my lips. “You’ll have to do with me until we’re Above, babe.”

As we stand there embraced, Ithuriel sends his light to wrap around our arms and legs, twining with us until all we see is a glow I know is reminiscent of Heaven. His way of hugging us now.

Chapter 22 – Jessica

The Malebolge: The Trench of Falsifiers

The last of the clean water ran out yesterday and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. What if it takes longer than another day to reach the end of the trenches? What if… what if we’re wrong? What if there is no portal to the human world on the other side? What if we have to walk all the way back to the entrance of the Malebolge – I don’t think I can survive the trek without water.

“Why so gloomy, kiddo?” Sariel asks as we follow in Ithuriel’s wake through the final trench.

“I’m thinking about how long a human can survive without water. Was it two or three days? Do you know?”

He purses his lips. “No idea. But I do know that I can give you a drink right here, right now, if you’re up for a blowie.”

I give him a deadpan look. That was vile and pervy and… totally him. Ithuriel’s light flashes like a lightning storm.

“Oh, my,” Sariel drawls. “I do believe our boy would knock me onto my ass now if he could have. Only question is, if he’d ride it after, give it a good beating.”

We are wasting time listening to your preposterous ideas for a solution. We set out to save humanity but are failing to keep one alive.

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