“That rotten bitch!” roared Vyns, red with rage.

  The cave-in left them in a cloud of dust. Vyns had watched the majority of his comrades fall to the ground, but he had managed to stay on his feet. He beat his wings, trying to shake off the dust that was floating around him so he might be able to evaluate the seriousness of the situation.

  The most maddening, brutal fury was burning inside him, a wrath he hadn’t felt since the times of the War. He was fully aware that he wasn’t exactly an expert at controlling his temperament, but at this particular moment he was completely out of his mind with rage. He’d warned Diago that Nilia was plotting something dirty just before he’d stepped forward to seal the deal with her, but Diago had paid no attention to him. He would have given anything to be the one in command so he wouldn’t have had to swallow his pride and comply with the order to stay in formation. Now Raven had vanished yet again, Edmon was still not avenged, and Diago was in all probability in Nilia’s hands. Things could not be worse.

  Still, none of that was what was really infuriating him. As he’d been desperately running toward Nilia, a fraction of a second before she’d struck the wall and caused the cave-in, their eyes had met. Nilia had looked directly at him; she’d taken a fraction of a second to smile at him and then had winked, puckered her lips and blown him a kiss. That brazenly arrogant gesture was eating him up inside. The image of it was still fresh in his mind, in vivid detail. He could see her as clearly as if she were in front of him right now.

  The only positive thing in all of this was that he was next in command and therefore was the one who would be giving the orders until they recovered Diago. And the only thing he wanted was to have a chance to return that kiss to Nilia a second before splitting her in half with his sword.

  “Get up!” He looked around to see if they were all still there. “I want the path cleared immediately. Move!”

  “We still have two men buried in the debris,” Lyam informed him, his own wings still covered in dust. “We have to free them before—”

  “There’s no time,” Vyns shot back. “Diago won’t last long on his own against Nilia. Since we weren’t badly hurt by the cave-in, the most important thing is to get a passageway open as soon as possible or they’ll get away.”

  Lyam went up to the rubble left from the fallen wall and began throwing it to one side. The rest of his group immediately pitched in to help. Sticking out of the pile of bricks and chunks of concrete and earth, Vyns saw a broken wing and a pair of legs covered in cuts. Regardless of what he’d said before, knowing that they belonged to two of his comrades, Vyns felt compelled to come to their aid. But that was a mistake; his first inclination to immediately help clear a path is what he should have done. The men were not dead; they were in no imminent danger though they were unconscious from the impact of the collapse, and now he’d lost more time digging them out. He shook this off and started pulling away the debris that Lyam and the rest of his group were piling up behind him.

  “Faster!” he pressured them. “We can’t lose any more time.”

  “It’s wider than I thought,” Lyam said. “We can’t open up a gap without shoring it up, otherwise it will just come back down and we’ll be crushed.”

  More problems. They had to shore it up? Vyns couldn’t accept that. It would take too long. Perhaps only minutes but, even in the best case scenario, Diago wouldn’t be able to hold out that long. This was exactly why he didn’t like having a Guardian leading his group. They’d never been on Earth; their place was to defend the Nest. But the order had come directly from the Council and could not be refuted. Even still, Vyns was not about to lose him. Diago might have been a little soft for his tastes when it came down to carrying out the mission but he was one of his own and one of the bravest angels he’d ever known. There was no way he could resign himself to abandoning him. He simply had to find a way to quickly cross the wall of debris and he had to find it now—whatever the cost.

  “Lyam! Is the other side close?”

  “Yes, but like I said, if we keep excavating without shoring it up it’s all going to come down and we’ll have done nothing more than wasted our time.”

  “You can all support it with your bodies!”

  The six angels turned toward Vyns, a look of doubt on each of their faces.

  “Just get into the opening however you can and hold the loose rubble back with your bodies, but leave just enough space for me to leap onto the rubble and go through,” ordered Vyns.

  “Only three of us—at the most— would fit in there,” reasoned Lyam. “If we have to leave enough room for you, we’ll be buried after you go through.”

  “I don’t care!” snarled Vyns emphatically. “Someone has to help Diago right now. Do it! Now!”

  Lyam and another two angels quickly got into the opening they’d dug out with their own hands. They pressed themselves against the rocks and got ready to support the tons of weight on their shoulders.

  “As soon as I’m through,” said Vyns to the three who were outside the hole as he folded his wings and bent down, “do whatever you can to help the ones who are buried.”

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  Without waiting for a response, he threw himself with all his might against the wall of rubble that separated him from Diago. He blasted past his comrades and violently collided with the center of the narrow space they’d cleared.

  The impact was brutal.

  A tremor shook the pile of rubble and Vyns made it out the other side, sending chunks of rock and cement tumbling in all directions.

  “I hope you’re enjoying our agreement as much as I am,” he heard Nilia say as he rolled across the ground.

  In a perfect use of his own inertia, he landed on his feet after somersaulting. He spread his wings to slow his advance and managed to stop just at the edge of the hole. Dazed and disoriented, he shook his head and forced himself to turn toward the direction where he’d heard his enemy’s voice.

  Nilia was holding Diago against the wall and had just finished dealing him a powerful blow to the stomach. The angel doubled over in pain, his head hanging limply on his assailant’s arm as she held the back of his neck with her left hand. The image was absolutely disheartening. One of Diago’s wings was broken in three places and was bleeding. His right shoulder appeared to be dislocated and his left leg was bent at a heinous angle. His clothing was reduced to shreds. Tears, holes, and pieces that had been ripped off revealed various parts of his body, all of which exhibited deep wounds from which blood was oozing or enormous purple lumps were forming—all compliments of the merciless beating he was taking. But worst of all was his head. Chunks of hair were missing, leaving patches of his scalp exposed. His left eye had completely disappeared, replaced by a blackened chunk of flesh that was gushing blood. His right eye was hidden beneath the severe swelling that afflicted the whole top half of his head. His nose was broken, his upper lip was split; it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. A long cut stretching from his left ear split his cheek in two up to his bottom lip—which was hanging over his dislocated jaw. At least three teeth were missing and a handful more were chipped and broken. All in all, he was a deformed, bruised, bloodied mass. Vyns’s heart sank. Nilia had brutalized him.

  Armed with his sword and driven by a fury like none he’d ever known, Vyns charged her, unleashing all the hatred he was feeling. He lifted the blade with both hands and brought it down over the wretched woman’s head. But at the last moment Nilia shifted to the side and dodged the fatal blow, though she wasn’t able to avoid a deep cut to her left shoulder and wing. As she shrank away from her adversary, she managed to kick him, knocking him off balance and causing him to fall to his knees.

  Just then, Vyns notice a silhouette of someone struggling to run on the subway tracks, plunging through the darkness toward the other side of the hole. Raven was trying to escape. He could not let this happen; Raven was the main objective of his mission. But he couldn’t abandon Diago, either. The rumbling of another cave-in behind him told him he should not expect any reinforcements, at least for now. He was alone, and he had a decision to make.

  He stood up and drew an arc with his sword, from top to bottom, leaving a semicircular trail of flames before him that shot through the air toward Raven. The half-moon of fire crashed against the rails of the subway that crossed over the void, just next to the Minor’s feet. The force sent him staggering, both arms flailing in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. Unable to regain his footing, he tumbled into the abyss and was swallowed up by the Fog.

  Vyns let out a ferocious, raging howl. He’d just lost his target—the man the Council had entrusted him to recover. Raven had disappeared into the Fog right before his eyes, and it was he who had made it happen. Though it was little consolation now, at least Edmon’s death had been avenged.

  He looked around, infuriated. There was only one thing left he could do. He saw a pool of blood where Diago and Nilia had been just seconds before; he followed the trail to the edge of the precipice. He ran toward them, watching as the demon dragged his comrade to the narrow overhang that bordered the pit.

  “See you soon,” Nilia mocked him. She was leaning to one side, blood gushing from the gash Vyns had inflicted on her. “Diago and I have to take off now. He’s not doing so well.”

  Vyns was determined not to fail Diago, too. And luckily he had an unexpected advantage: Nilia was wounded. She was among the most hated of the Fallen, and he, surprisingly, had an unprecedented opportunity to finish off one of the legends that had claimed so many angels’ lives during the War. He couldn’t have hoped for a more fitting way to avenge Edmon’s death.

  Again he raised the sword and began to trace a new arc in the air. But halfway through the motion, he was forced to stop and let the flames dissolve. Nilia had put Diago’s body between them; she was using him as a shield.

  “Don’t worry about me. Diago wouldn’t mind giving his life to protect me.” Nilia brushed her hand over Diago’s head as if she were caressing him. “He’s so very thoughtful.”

  Vyns couldn’t do it. The narrow overhang ensured a direct strike since Nilia had nowhere to go to avoid it, but he knew Diago would not survive.

  “You won’t escape this time,” roared Vyns, launching himself toward her. But Nilia and Diago were already halfway to the other side. “I see you’re not tough enough to face off with me. Well, you can’t get far with that injury and carrying him.”

  “You know something?” Nilia stopped and looked back at him. “I think you’re right. This calls for an emergency plan.”

  The murderess smiled at him. Then she dropped her prisoner on the ground, precariously close to the ledge of the void. She took out one of her daggers that was shining with a greenish glow and made a light cut on his neck, then kicked him in the ribs. Diago’s body was still, hanging at the edge of the abyss.

  “Now you just have to sort out your priorities,” she said sarcastically. “You’ve already lost Raven. You can try to stop me and see how your friend’s life will end. Either the poison I just injected into him or the Fog that waits for him down below . . . or you can help him and let me escape as if nothing happened.” Vyns was silent. “I won’t tell; you can make up whatever story you want to tell the Council. I honestly wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when you have to explain to them how you killed Raven,” she added, her smile widening.

  “You’ll pay for this. I swear to you, I won’t—”

  “Ah, ah, ah . . . none of your childish hissy fits. I think you’ve had enough time to think about it now.” Nilia stretched out her leg and gave to little kick to Diago, whose body began sliding toward the Fog.

  “No!” screamed Vyns, launching himself toward Diago.

  “I knew what you’d pick. See you soon, darling.” Nilia threw him a kiss and took off.

  With six feet still separating him from Diago, Vyns dove face first toward Diago, his hands stretched out just in time to grab him by the wrist. His body was hanging by one hand, swinging gently back and forth.

  Once Vyns had pulled Diago to safety, he looked around. Nilia had vanished.