“It’s done,” she replies, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. “He’s resting now, and I’ve woven new memories in, so nothingis suspicious. I also hid the trail of magic, so no one—not even you—will be able to tell they were tampered with.”
“Thank you, Zora. You’re a good friend, and you saved her life. If the Seraphim is not enough to repay you, I’ll find a way.”
“Azrael, the Seraphim is more than enough. If there’s anything else either of you need, please do not feel guilty calling on me to help again. Goddess bless you all, and keep each one of you safe tonight. I need to get some rest.”
She looks at Sylis. “Take Malicor to his room, like we discussed. Azrael, it’s time you take her home before she is missed.”
I sigh. She’s right. As much as I’m not ready to return Mercy, I must. Tomorrow I can search for answers. I look at Sylis. “Thank you. You’re also a good friend, and I appreciate you keeping her safe. Please tell no one of what happened here tonight, and should you need to use that favor, just summon me.”
Sylis holds up a small vial. “Don’t worry. We thought it was best if I remembered nothing that happened tonight, either. You can tell me about the favor I’m owed later.”
“I don’t give my friends enough credit,” I beam. “Goodnight, Zora. Sylis, I’ll cover us in shadow as soon as you’re ready to leave.”
He dips his chin in understanding, then follows Zora to retrieve a sleeping Malicor. I linger a second longer, committing every line of her sleeping face to memory. Just a moment more, thenI have no choice but to let her go. I climb carefully from the hammock, then gently scoop Mercy into my arms. She stirs, but is quick to nuzzle against me, falling back to sleep.
When Sylis reappears, we depart, walking in silent shadows until I’ve escorted him to drop off Malicor, and then back to his home as well. Once outside the circus gates, I increase the thickness of shadow cloaking us. I can’t risk anyone seeing this and reporting it back to her father. The walk from the circus to her house is over before I’m ready. Selfishly, I’m tempted to turn around with her in my arms, vowing to never return her.
Mercy would never forgive me, so for now I have to put her back and watch longingly from afar until I figure out a way for us to be together. As I carry her down the empty streets, I can’t help but feel in awe of her. She deserves someone better than me, but I know now that I’ve held her in my arms, I could never give her up. I could never step aside and allow myself to be replaced. Loving me will probably break her, but I’ll never stop putting her back together. She uncovered a secret about herself, and her first instinct was to confide in me. The level of trust she has in me is unwavering, and there’s something deeply satisfying about it.
We approach her small house. It looks so normal from the outside. Passersby would never suspect the secrets hidden behind those walls—or the horrors that unfolded within them. I walk to Mercy’s window like I have countless other times, hoping she left it open, as she often does. My nerves surge, not from the strain on my magic, but from the knowledge I’m returning her to a place that was never worthy of her.
One thought, and we’re a swirling vortex of shadow and night as we slip in undetected through the open window. We land without making a sound. I didn’t expect this to be so difficult, but standing here with her in my arms, all I can think about is stealing her under the cover of the night and running away together.
The Ringmaster—he’d be furious. And Lucifer… well, I suppose there’s nowhere I can run to where Lucifer won’t be able to find me. Wishful thinking, I suppose. Mercy stirs, so I lay her on the bed, gently slipping her arms out of the jacket.
I groan. Beneath the jacket, she’s wearing nothing but a simple nightgown. Thin pink straps slide over her small shoulders. It looks silky and soft, hugging the dainty curve of her body. How can something so breakable belong to a brute like me? I sigh and force myself to look away. I shouldn’t stand here like this, wanting what I know I can’t have. At least not yet.
Instead of leaving, I grab the old worn quilt she usually sleeps beneath from where it lies folded, hanging over the foot of her bed. Slowly—so as to drag my gaze over the body I ache to claim—I cover her up.
She snuggles into the blanket, mumbling, “Thank you.”
I lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead and whisper against her ear, “Good night, my love. I promise I’ll come back for you.”
In a flash of swirling shadows, I’m gone, shifting from shadow to jet-black raven on the other side of the window the moment I hitmidair. I soar through the clouds, feeling my shadows cradle me as I fly back to the big top. But I don’t stop there. I stretch my wings, flying farther. Past the forbidden forest and the sleeping gypsy boats along the winding river deep in the forest, across valleys, breaking east in a wide arc over the emerald sea, drifting through silent ports—the scent of salt and driftwood curling in the mist—until I reach the shores of the Oceanside Market. One more pass by Mercy’s house and I’m bursting through my open window, wings flapping, feathers swirling and mist sparkling as I land in the center of my room in human form.
Sometimes, a flight through the cool night air beneath the stars is all I need to clear my head. With my burden lighter and my body exhausted, I climb under the sheets to sleep for a few hours. I don’t need much to recharge. As soon as dawn breaks, I’ll be buried beneath stacks of books, combing the entire library to find the answers I so desperately seek.
Slivers of pink and orange bleed through my window, tugging me from my dreamless slumber. Tonight, I’ll hunt the streets—not because I need to feed, but because I have a growing obsession with keeping my secret angel safe. I stretch, pull myself out of bed, and dress. Following the curve of the staircase, I descend to the first floor, slinking past the front of the manor to where the library hides, sealed behind a gargoyle-guarded entrance.
It’s imperative the information stored within these walls never falls into the hands of the Divine. I stand before the gargoyle, slashing my palm open against one of my incisors, then squeeze the blood into its open mouth. It trickles down slowly to activate the locks. Cogs groan as mechanisms click and whir.A heartbeat later, the gears grind and the stone rumbles. Metal clunks deep within the wall as the gargoyle shifts aside. Overhead, carved into the archway, are ancient runes written in a forgotten language. I can read enough to decipher that only Lucifer’s bloodline can unlock the door, and that those with bad intentions will perish in a fiery inferno.
I step inside, and the stone door whooshes closed behind me with a soft, ominous thud. Lights flicker to life as I walk deeper inside the library. It smells of old books and mothballs. Rows upon rows of looming bookshelves greet me—some encased in glass cases, others covered in cobwebs and thick layers of dust. This is going to take forever. Luckily, there’s a catalog documenting every title, text, and tome we’ve collected over the centuries. And there, right in the center of the library, sits the enormous grimoire-sized catalog on a stand carved from unforgiving black stone, demonic creatures etched into its surface.
Magic stirs beneath my skin—hot and eager. It knows I’m about to summon it, and is starving for a purpose. I owe it to Mercy to find the answers to the questions I can’t stop thinking about. I’ll do anything to protect her. Standing in front of the book, I press my hands to it and mutter a command. “Open.”
The book flips open obediently. I press my index finger to the page it opened on and utter another order. “Show me books on celestial offspring, Nephilim, and hybrid bloodlines.”
The book shakes and shivers beneath my touch as the letters and words rearrange themselves to reveal listings and their locations. Only three such texts appear:The SplinteredLight: Bloodlines of the Seraphim, Nephilim: The Forbidden Offspring,andHalfborn: The Divine and Their Gifts.I take note of each location, then set off in search of them.
The Splintered Light: Bloodlines of the Seraphimis located in the oldest section. To get there, I must walk past the map of the five infernal kingdoms etched into the black marble floor, liquid gold filling the grooves. It’s been years since the last time I stepped foot in the library. Seeing the map reminds me of how vast Hell is, the importance of each kingdom, and the purpose each one serves.
The Kingdom of Ash and Iron houses Lucifer’s armies, guards the most dangerous prisoners, and forges weaponry. The Kingdom of Desire and Deceit was built to lure souls into an eternity of servitude in the pleasure houses. It’s also responsible for inciting corruption in the human realm by creating greed and lust, thereby condemning the souls to their domain. The Kingdom of Blood and Bonds is responsible for issuing contracts—for deals, servitude, repayment, and sentencing. And last, the Kingdom of Agony and Penance. Better known as the torture realm. A place where sinners are tormented and punished.
Shaking off the recap, I continue toward the oldest section and locate the shelf where the book is supposed to be. There’s one book, wrapped in heavy chains, etched with runes that drink my blood to open. Of course. These books are dangerous, and I’m not surprised when I brush off a layer of dust and reveal the title. It’s definitely the book I was looking for. I pick it up and carry it to a long table near the center of the library, where the catalog grimoire is located. I repeat the process twice more, finding the other two books with no issues.
With that search complete, I go back to the catalog, press my finger to the open page, and say, “Show me books about Divine curses and prophecies.”
Once again, the catalog sets to work arranging the letters on the page, revealing two titles:Edicts of Heaven: What the Divine ForbidsandThe Cost of Crossing the Divine.These books are both enclosed in a glass case beside one another, making retrieval much easier than I expected. With five books totally splayed out over the table, I settle in for a day of research, combing through each one for answers.
