Page 54 of The River of Hatred

“And your mom?” Sariel asks next.

The boy gulps. “She’s an angel,” he whispers, then looks at Itha. “Actually, she looks a lot like you.”

I cover my mouth with my hand. “That makes him a full-blown Nephalem,” I say through my fingers.

Sariel blows a woosh of air before speaking up. “Wonder what Lana would think about him.”

The boy freezes, then gapes at the dark-haired angel. “You know Lana?” His voice shakes and his body starts trembling as he waits for an answer. He looks like he scarcely dares to hope we’re talking about the same person. But what are the odds?

“Yes,” I finally say, putting him out of his misery. Sariel throws me a dirty look, but I really don’t think this mortal is out to hurt our girl. “She’s my team leader.” I grin at Sariel. “And this one’s stepmom.”

“She’s alive?” the Nephalem asks, tears welling in his beautiful brown eyes.

“She’s great,” I confirm, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Happy. In love. Ruling a good chunk of the Underworld. But how do you know her?”

The boy sighs and it looks like he’s releasing years of worry. “She’s my best friend,” he says innocently. “I've been trying to find out what happened to her for so long, I was sure I’d never find any answers.”

A light bulb goes off in my head. “Wait, are you Mike?”

The boy’s tears run over his soft-looking cheeks. “She talks about me?”

“Of course!” I whisper-shout. “We got drunk one day on patrol, well, actually, more than just one day, but on this particular day she told us about her friend Mike and, oh, you don’t care about any of that.” I wave my hand as if to shoo off my rambling. “Now that you know Lana’s safe, are you sure you still want to stay locked up?”

He's shaking his blonde head before I finish speaking. “No, you don’t understand. These demons in charge, they want to wipe out all half-mortal descendants, purify the Celestial race.”

Sariel grunts. “Great, demon Nazis, like the human ones weren’t bad enough.”

“Do the mortal cultists not understand that would mean their own end as well?” Ithuriel asks.

“They’re either too dumb to understand or too delusional to care,” Mike replies with a roll of his eyes. “When Lana disappeared, I was sure they got to her.”

“You knew what she is?” I ask.

Mike nods with a wince. “It’s why I befriended her. But I really do love her,” he swears.

“I believe you,” Sariel huffs. “You’ve been looking for clues for years.”

“How did you not get recruited to the Underworld by the Council?” Itha asks next.

Mike grimaces. “I heard these guys talk about humans in Hell, and that’s when I hoped the disappearances were connected to that rather than their unholy purging crusade. But I didn’t even know about it until recently. My parents might have protected me from it.”

“Who are your–” Itha’s question is interrupted by approaching footsteps.

“Fuck,” Sariel growls. “That’s a demon lord approaching.”

“Free the boy and shield him in the corner,” Itha orders, facing the door and broadening his stance.

Crouching down next to Mike, I pull on the ether and disintegrate a few chain links at his sides. I don’t bother muffling their fall as I drag them off the wide-eyed Nephalem.

“Hurry,” I tell him, pulling him up and walking him to a darkened part of the room. I have zero chance of surviving a fight with a demon lord and Mike looks like a strong wind could tip him over. “Do you know how to fight?” I ask him, harried.

“Y–yeah,” he stutters. “My dad taught me as soon as I was old enough to hold a plastic sword in my hands. Unfortunately, I have my mom’s girlish figure.”

I snicker at his dry sense of humor despite the dangerous situation we’re in. No wonder he was best friends with Lana, the queen of sarcasm.

The footsteps grow louder and clearer until five more figures crowd the shrinking room. Four are the unkempt cultists, but the one in the front stands out. He’s tall, leanly muscled, and has a well-maintained goatee covering half of his cold-looking face. His eyes are like lifeless ice chips.

“Andras,” Sariel drawls, hooking his thumbs into his jeans’ belt loops, casual as can be.

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