Angel Betrayed

Screams filled the air. The Other scattered as they raced away from the flames.

But he just poured out more power. More. He wouldn’t stop. The world didn’t realize just how dangerous he could be. Time to show them.

Bring her back.

Or he’d destroy everything, and, perhaps everyone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sam hit the dirt when he was tackled from behind. He spun around and tossed his ass**le brother aside. This time, Az landed on his feet, and his bones stayed in place, mostly.

“You can’t kill them!” Az shouted.

Sam’s brows rose. “Since when do you care?”

“Since I fell!” Az ran a hand through his hair. “This isn’t right! Dammit, you can’t!”

The fire hadn’t touched anyone. Not yet.

“He can,” another voice said, this one strong and deep and coming from the shadows near him, “but he won’t.”

An oh-shit expression crossed Az’s face, and Sam knew his brother recognized that voice, too.

It was a voice most heard in their nightmares because this angel, he wasn’t there to comfort you. Not to give you a message. Not to guard you or protect you from the monsters in the world.

Uriel was the leader of the punishment angels. If the stories were true, he’d once been at the right hand of God, but a few centuries back, he’d been put in charge of the darker angels. He came after only the worst of the worst, and his punishments had been known to make the devil weep with envy.

His wings curled behind him as Uriel stepped from the darkness. He stared at Sam, and he shook his head. “Sammael, call back your fire.”

The fire whipped through the streets, snaking long and hard, rising high, so high. It hadn’t touched the flesh of anyone, but it could; all it would take was one thought and they’d ignite.

“Is this what she would want you to do?” Uriel asked.

In an instant, Sam had the bastard by his black T-shirt. And since when did Uriel wear a torn T-shirt and jeans? “You’ve seen her?”

Uriel nodded. “She’s one of mine.”

“No,” Sam snarled, choking on rage. “She’s mine.”

Az closed in on them. “Are you serious? Seline’s an . . . angel?”

Uriel didn’t look particularly concerned about the fire or the tight grip that Sam had on him. But, what was new? Uriel was never concerned. That’s why he was good at his job.

And those punishment angels who weren’t so good—they wound up like Rogziel.

“Sometimes angels walk on earth. Mistakes are made. They have to be . . . called home.” Uriel inclined his head toward Sam. “Thank you for taking care of Rogziel. He’d become a nuisance.”

What the f**k? “Take care of your own garbage next time.”

“That’s not the way it works.”

“How do you know?” Sam fired back. “Have you ever actually asked?”

Uriel’s dark eyes narrowed. “Rogziel received his punishment.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you!” Sam dropped his hold on the angel. “What? Did you want me to do your dirty work for you? And here I thought you enjoyed the punishment.”

He’d hope the words would crack Uriel’s icy façade. They didn’t work. Because that wasn’t a façade. It was just Uriel.

“You know the rules,” Uriel said. “No angel can kill another. Not without earning damnation.” He brushed off his T-shirt. “We didn’t just want Rogziel to suffer, we wanted him destroyed.”

And so he had been. “And the Fallen who got taken out along the way?”

“A Fallen was the only one who had a chance of fighting him.”

Ah, right. Since they’d fallen and lost their wings, they weren’t exactly angelic any longer so that whole rule about one angel not killing another wasn’t technically in play. Angels hadn’t just learned to twist the truth over the centuries. They’d learned to twist the entire world.

“Unfortunately,” Uriel said with a sigh, “the first few Fallen he found weren’t strong enough for the job.”

“Very unfortunate,” Az echoed, but there was emotion in his voice. Now that the guy was on earth, he was sure picking up the human ways fast.

I like him better this way. Az wasn’t quite as much of an ass**le.

“But the job is done now.” Uriel leveled his stare back at Sam. “It’s time for you to move on.”

No. “I want to see Seline.”

Uriel’s brow furrowed. “And I do what you want because. . . ?”