Page 99 of Shadows of the Soul

“Cora,” my father’s voice echoed around us. Indigo sighed and unfolded our wings from around Hudson. She turned and surveyed the damage. The stables were flattened. Not a speck of furniture or wall was standing. It looked like a tornado had torn through my land. Death might be my father’s first name, but destruction was his middle one. The horde was now thinned out, half of the creatures were dead or missing. The remaining creatures were quickly disappearing into the crater. Lucifer was long gone. Now his portal was closed, he was no longer interested. Thanks, Uncle. That still left me with Stephen Proctor.

“Can I eat him?”Indigo asked as she narrowed her gaze on the Satanic priest who was making a beeline for the property gates.

“Later,”I assured her.

She snapped her fingers and Stephen froze in his tracks.

The angels still circled our position with various weapons at the ready. They weren’t here for the Devil, they were here for me.

My father stretched his arms wide. “Welcome, my daughter, to your trial.”

Indigo paused, and Hudson froze at her side. “This is between you and I,” she said. “Let the shifters go.”

My father pointed at Hudson. “That is no ordinary shifter. Is he your mate?”

No. “Yes.” For fuc…

“Then this is pertinent to him.”

“So I am to be on trial before you murder me?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, daughter. If you had done anything too heinous, I would have already put you down. This is merely a trial to weigh your intentions and your divinity.”

“Still hungry,”Indigo reminded me with a glance at Stephen.

We were fucked. The angels lifted their left hands, silver strands of power flowed from them and joined to form a circle around us. Now we were trapped.

Chairs appeared out of thin air—more like mini thrones. The angels settled into them because their precious asses couldn’t stand for ten minutes.

“Sit,” my father commanded.

I glanced behind us, finding two smaller versions of the thrones. I folded myself into one, Hudson followed.

“I want to be clear. This is a trial to determine how you have lived your life up to date. This will inform our next decision.”

“You mean whether or not you kill her?” Hudson checked.

“Indeed,” my father agreed.

“How does it work?” Hudson asked. “Do you call on witnesses?”

My father threw his head back and laughed. “No,” he finally said. “I will weigh her heart.”

“Get on with it,” Indigo muttered. “I have to eat.”

“Let me out,”I told her.“You dreaming of sucking someone’s soul will not win over the hearts of the angels.”

“Fine.”

My vision went dark, then I was back in charge of my body, albeit in my Nephilim form.

My father moved toward me, and I braced myself. This was bound to hurt. His fingertips touched my temples, and Hudson twitched at my side.

“Calm down, Principal,” my father muttered. “The pain is temporary and not damaging.”

Sure, psychic pain wasn’t damaging in the slightest. Damn emotionless angels.

My father’s power flooded my mind as he searched my memories, my actions, my decisions. He lingered over the more painful memories of Neil’s betrayal, losing Hudson to political idiotness, of my grandmother directing me for her own gain. He examined the moments I’d relived the deaths of individuals to help catch their killers, the fight with Ric Nichols and my strong ties to my aunts. He tested my strength of resolve to keep my beast under lock and key for years. He picked apart my life like it was a bug under a microscope and made me relive multiple episodes of pain and terror. Eventually, he stepped back. I slumped in the chair like a noodle.

---