Two things struck me at once.
That Teller was answering his demand. He shot forward so fast, swinging out with one angel blade, that none of us immediately responded.
And I remembered the day in the high school—when the Shadow Person had slammed into Teller, knocking him out. It had gone into him, and it had never come back out.
I snapped out of it first, flipping the dagger in my hand. Cocking my arm back, I threw the dagger as hard as I could. It struck true, hitting in the base of the skull. Teller went down before he could even reach Zayne.
There was no time to celebrate that or to find that damn blade in the mist-covered ground. Gabriel came at me.
I ducked as his fiery blade sliced through the air. Shooting forward, I dipped and twisted, kicking out and catching him at the kneecap. He stumbled, swinging out with his fist as I popped up. There wasn’t enough time for me to avoid the blow completely. I tried, jumping back, but a flare of pain streaked across my stomach. I sucked in a sharp breath, gritting my teeth. “I think it’s time you gave this up. It’s over.”
“It is?” Gabriel laughed as Lucifer appeared behind the archangel. Gabriel sneered. “You’re already dead.”
“A bruise,” I said, ignoring the burn traveling up my stomach and along my back. “Can’t say the same for you, though.”
His brows furrowed as Lucifer saw his opening.
And took it.
Lucifer shot forward just as Gabriel spun around. I saw the impact, and almost fell to my knees in relief when Lucifer yanked his bloodied hand back. Even I could see the thumping, fleshy mass in his fist.
“Now!” Lucifer shouted.
Zayne swooped in from above and landed, the twin sickle-shaped swords flaming as I shot forward. The Sword of Michael felt heavier than before as I lifted it, the weight not as welcomed. Clasping the handle with both hands, I jabbed out with a shout as Zayne whipped his swords through the air.
The Sword of Michael pierced Gabriel’s back and cut straight through. The archangel spasmed, arms flinging out. His sword collapsed and he dropped the dagger. A heartbeat later, Zayne’s crescent swords sliced through Gabriel’s neck, severing his head.
Oh my God.
My next breath punched out of my lungs as I watched the archangel’s head fall.
Intense light poured out of the stump that was Gabriel’s neck, so bright that I was blinded until I reached up with one hand, shielding my eyes. Even then, they watered as I watched the funnel of light stream upward. The light...chunks of black swirled inside it. That really didn’t look right. My grace retracted and the Sword of Michael evaporated. Gabriel’s body erupted in flames, leaving nothing behind as the light smashed through the sky, stretching up and up, farther than I knew even Zayne could see. Streaks of midnight oil twisted and pulsed inside the stream of light.
It was Gabriel’s grace, returning to the source. The next breath I took felt too thin.
The heavenly fire slammed into something I didn’t think any of us could see. It was like an invisible...force field? That sounded stupid, but it hit something. The whitish-gold fire exploded with a clap of thunder that echoed. The grace rippled outward.
There it was.
Unsteady, I staggered back a step. God was doing it. Even though God had sent those angels down to fight off the horde of demons, God had done it. Punted the tainted grace back to Earth. Dizzy with horror, I watched it crawl across the sky in an endless wave stretching as far as I could see.
How in the world could anyone explain this sight away?
A hysterical giggle rose up and only by sheer force was I able to stop it as the twisted mass spread. We did it. We stopped Gabriel. We saved Heaven.
And now a different kind of Hell would reign on Earth.
I started to turn to Zayne, my body so incredibly weary. Vaguely aware of others approaching us, I heard Zayne inhale sharply.
“God,” he whispered, staring up at the sky.
My head jerked upward, and I blinked, because I wasn’t sure if I was seeing what I thought I was or if it was some kind of trick of the imagination.
The grace had stopped moving.
“Can you see it?” Zayne asked, moving to my side. “It’s like...it’s frozen.”
“I can see it.” I didn’t dare take my eyes off it. “What is this, Lucifer?”
He didn’t answer.
Or maybe he did and his response was drowned out. The sound reminded me of fireworks sizzling and crackling as they shot into the sky—if there were a thousand of those kinds of fireworks going off at once. It was all I could hear for several moments, and then the mass of tainted grace shattered into millions of sparks of light.
I jerked, reaching out and grabbing Zayne’s arm. His skin was steady and hot under my hand as my fingers dug in.
“Trin?” Zayne said.
Was this it? The end of the world as we knew it came in a beautiful display of golden light? “What?” I asked as the sparks began to drift downward.
“Your hand.” Zayne turned to me, one of his wings brushing across my arm. He folded his hands around mine. “It feels like a chunk of ice.”
How my hand felt didn’t seem like a huge priority at the moment. Vaguely aware of him rubbing my fingers between his, I struggled to remain standing under the weight of what we were watching. The shining filaments were beautiful, reminding me of fireflies, but the moment they landed—the moment a human was touched by one of them, they’d be corrupted by what was inside Gabriel.
“Your hand isn’t warming.” Zayne slid his palm over my arm. “Your arm—”
“God did it,” Lucifer said, voice ringing with shock. “God actually did it. Look.” Lucifer reached out as one of the flakes, mostly white now, drifted toward us. “It’s...is this snow?”
I started to ask him how he didn’t know what snow looked like, but then realized that he’d been in Hell for...what? Thousands of years? I doubted it snowed in Hell. Or that he could remember what snow looked like.
“It is...snow.” Zayne’s hands were still on my arm. “Look, Trin. It’s snow.”
Pulling my gaze from the flurry, I looked down to my arm, to his hands. Little white flakes landed on his skin, evaporating on touch and leaving a glistening speck behind. “Is it contaminated?”
“It doesn’t feel evil.” Those ultrabright eyes met mine. “Does it feel evil to you?”
I shook my head as the snow continued to land on my arms. “It feels like snow.”
“It’s not evil,” Lucifer said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I know evil. It’s snow and it’s...” He groaned in disgust. “Aw, dammit.”