“Incubators,” Matthew offered, disgust lacing his tone.
“Yes,” I agreed. “I’m sorry. I wish there was more I could do.”
I wasn’t sure if they believed me. To a certain extent, I didn’t particularly care if they trusted me or not. They needed me more than I would ever need them, and I knew who I was and which side I’d chosen. I would fight for their cause, but I wasn’t fighting for them. I was fighting for all those who had sacrificed so that I could live. I was fighting for my family and my future.
But I wasn’t heartless. Those women had been violated in every imaginable way, and their very lives—and the lives of their children—hung in the balance. I wanted to help; I just didn’t know how.
It was mid-January when the Council told me they’d finished vetting my team. I hadn’t passed my psych evaluation yet, so I couldn’t officially be cleared for combat. But they wanted me to begin training. Gideon wasn’t too thrilled, but he didn’t stop me from dressing in the same fatigues as Jai and Noel and following them to the Grand Hall.
They led me to a sparring room on the training level. Other than Uriel and Obediah, we were the first to arrive. Gideon pulled Uriel aside, and they spoke in hushed tones as Obie approached. His tight, black curls were shorn close to his scalp, his brown skin gleaming under the lights. He nodded at Jai and Noel in greeting, then offered me a small smile.
“Hello, Riley, it’s good to see you,” he said, his soft voice a juxtaposition to his large size.
“Hey, Obie. I didn’t know you were on the team.” I looked around for Delilah. “Is Delilah coming too?”
He shook his head. “Her duties at the Archives are better fitted for her. She’s well-trained in combat of course, but war is not in her nature.”
I thought of the mounds of stuffies on her bed and her preference for coloring books and sugar cereal. “Right.”
A few minutes later, we were joined by Deborah, Isaac, and Jael, the Principalities my angels had worked with in the mortal realm before I’d been abducted. The squad was complete. We had the remnants of a Principality team. We had a Power and two of the strongest Secondaries ever created. We had two Archangels, both in a way dishonored but no less powerful. And me, the hybrid spawn of Heaven and Hell. Our team was small, but hopefully, we’d be enough.
“We’re glad you’re back,” Isaac said, running a hand through his hair. It was a bright green color now and shorter. His heterochromatic eyes—one hazel, one pink—studied me as he clapped me on the shoulder.
“We were worried.” Jael came to a stop beside Isaac and smiled crookedly, one side of their mouth unable to lift thanks to the crescent-shaped scar curving from their jaw to their temple.
“You were very foolish,” Deborah said, gray eyes fierce. She’d cut her blonde hair in a short pixie cut, and it made her face look even more severe. “But we were relieved the rescue mission ended in success.”
“Uh, yeah. Me too,” I said awkwardly.
“Enough chitchat, maggots! At attention,” Uriel barked, but his ferocious tone contrasted with the smile he struggled to hide.
The angels laughed but moved into a line, hands clasped behind their backs. I copied them, shooting Gideon a wary glance as Uriel paced in front of us. Both he and Gideon wore similar fatigues as the rest of us. I admired Gideon’s muscles as they strained the material of his shirt. Huh, I never knew I’d like a man in uniform.
“What do you say we go for a little run?” Uriel said with an evil smirk.
I groaned.
We ran for ages. Gideon and Uriel jogged in front of us, leading the unit through Utopia, past the wall, and out into the grassy fields. When Isaac and I fell behind—“I’m a sprinter, damn it!” Isaac puffed. “Not a marathon runner!”—the team slowed to match our pace. Jael tripped over the uneven terrain, twisting their ankle, and Jai and Noel each wrapped an arm around their waist to shoulder their weight until they shook off the pain.
When we finished, we finished together. Because we were a team. But we also suffered as a team. Jai mouthed off and called Uriel ‘Daddy,’ and we were all punished for it, doing push-ups until my biceps trembled. Being a soldier was hard.
Every day, we woke with the sunrise. We ate high protein meals, then came together and did yoga, led by Noel and Jael. To center ourselves, we meditated. Then we ran for miles until my lungs burned and sweat darkened my shirt. We lifted weights and did crunches and lunges. Jai held down my feet as I worked my abs until they screamed.
There was a training center at the edge of the city near the forest. We ran obstacle courses. We army-crawled through mud and under nets. We climbed wooden walls with nothing but the hand of a teammate to help us over. We sparred. We ran drills. We shot at targets.
It was angel bootcamp, and it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. The last time I’d pushed my body this hard was in Purgatory, and that hadn’t been my choice. But this was; I chose this. It made the ache in my bones and the burn in my muscles worth it.
This was my team, my squad. And when Lucifer attacked, we would be ready. We would have each other’s backs. We would fight. Together.
But it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. We bickered and sniped. When we were exhausted, we dug at each other until someone lost their temper. Sometimes, we resorted to fists. Then we’d all get punished and have to run five miles or do a hundred burpees.
Maybe Gideon had been right, and I wasn’t quite ready for the intensity of this training, but I didn’t give up. I felt useful and strong. I felt a part of something bigger, and each tiny accomplishment—be it an extra set of pull-ups or setting a new personal time record on the obstacle course—built my confidence.
I still met with Nadia. We were diving deeper into my time in Purgatory, and my nightmares returned. I dreamt of the light leaving Beau’s eyes as his neck snapped. I dreamt of Blue’s intestines tangled around my ankles. I dreamt of the delicious pulse of Leviathan’s heart in my hand.
Above all, I dreamt of the sharp tearing of my tendons and the snap of bone as my wings were ripped from my back. I always woke with a start, covered in sweat. My back ached with the phantom agony, and I’d tremble in the aftermath.
But my angels were always there to hold me afterward. They would hide me away in their arms and whisper comforting promises. I was safe now. They would never let Lucifer hurt me again. Everything would be okay.
Sometimes, I believed them. Most of the time, I accepted their lies in silence.
Surfacing from one such dream, I sat up with a gasp, my labored breathing loud in the night. The mattress squeaked, and I jumped as a hand came to rest on my spine. Noel rubbed soothing circles on my back and kissed my shoulder blade.
“What can I do, sweetie?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. “Talk to me.”
The ghost of Leviathan’s cold hands on my skin and the echo of Mammon’s laugh sent a shudder through me. I turned into Noel’s body and nearly tackled him to the bed. He was warm, so warm. And he smelled like lilac and sunshine and love.
He lay back with an oomph, allowing me to cover him with my body. I pressed my face into his neck, inhaling deeply. His hands were hesitant as they framed my hips. I whined.
“Touch me,” I begged him. “Make me forget.”