“Ava and Marcus can rally the angelic,” Will suggested. “My mother has her contacts, as well. While we find the Naphil, they can gather our friends and allies and their friends and allies. We can build an army within a week—days. We’ve all been waiting for this.”

With a beam of hope, I realized that maybe we could do this after all. “Do you know where everyone is?” I asked. “Let’s get the group together and figure this out. While the idea’s fresh in our minds, we can organize how we’ll assemble as many angelic reapers as possible.”

“We can fly to Syria later this evening,” Ethan offered. “We’ll take my private jet into a military base I used the last time I traveled to Ain Dara. A lot of money can persuade many men to be very uninterested in our business. I warn you, this won’t be any milk run.”

“For now, let’s get some rest,” I said. “A lot is about to happen for all of us.”

For the first time in a while, Will smiled at me.

I gave him a skeptical stink eye. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just proud of you, that’s all.”

Then I smiled back at him.

28

DESPITE HOW EXHAUSTED EVERYONE SEEMED, they were very alert while listening to my explanation of our next plan. While Ava, Marcus, and Madeleine rallied their allies, Cadan would call upon his own friends. I’d be surprised if Cadan had any other angelic friends, but he appeared confident nonetheless. Ethan Stone was already on the phone with his men and the pilot of his jet. Things were falling right into place.

I fell asleep on the ride back to the hotel, but I woke long enough to follow Will into the elevator and to our room. I lay sprawled on the bed wishing I could return to blissful unconsciousness, but Will wouldn’t let me until we’d ordered room service and gotten some food in our stomachs. one meal a day wasn’t cutting it for either of us. If I survived this war, I’d go back to Michigan and inhale some real food cooked by my nana. Even though the hotel only served breakfast at this hour, I ordered an omelet. After having had real Belgian waffles, I wouldn’t waste my time ordering some cruddy hotel version. Unless I came back to Belgium, I’d never be able to eat waffles again, to be honest, now that I’d been spoiled. That was quite heartbreaking.

I couldn’t remember when I fell back to sleep—or if I’d fallen asleep with my face in my breakfast—but I woke hours later to Will nudging my shoulder. I’d slept until after midnight, but now it was time for us to meet Ethan Stone and fly to Syria. I took a quick, cool shower to wake myself up and finish packing before we took our luggage down to the lobby. Ethan Stone was already waiting for us, leaning on a sleek black limousine. His driver grabbed our bags and set them securely in the trunk. He rushed around the limo to open the rear doors for us to climb in.

“We ought to arrive just after dawn,” Stone explained. “This will allow us to travel safely through the desert. The sun is too direct for any demonic reaper to even consider attacking us during daylight.”

“You are officially invited on all of our adventures,” I told him as I slid across the seat and stopped next to the window. Will took his place beside me.

Ethan eased onto the seat opposite ours, sank deep against the cushions, crossed one leg over the other, and waved his hand over the panel under the windows. The panel slid away—a result either of a display of his power or the device being motion-activated—and a tray lifted into its place with a lazy hum, displaying crystal glasses, a pitcher of ice, and a bottle of brandy. Stone tipped the bottle over a glass.

“And we’re off,” he said, and grinned at us.

Ethan Stone’s private jet was small compared to most commercial aircrafts, but it flew smoothly and in just a few hours we landed at a tiny airfield in the middle of the desert. The runway ended in a barrier of ten-foot-tall chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. on the opposite side of the airfield was a rickety, dusty building shadowed by a manned guard tower. I had a strong feeling there was more to this military base than we were told.

Stone exited the aircraft first and greeted a man brandishing a very large assault rifle. They spoke as if they were old friends, chatting in fast, happy-sounding Arabic to each other. Suddenly the man with the gun guffawed loudly and slapped Stone on the back so hard he lost his balance and frowned in pain. Ethan waved up at us and we climbed down the ramp, Will out in front like a bodyguard. The sun was insanely bright and hot, and I felt like my skin was frying right off my arms, even though I wore a thin shirt over a tank top and linen cargo shorts. Cadan, though he had braved daylight for me before, would never be able to handle this. Stone had been right that we’d be safe from demonic forces until nightfall.

We passed by groups of rough-looking men with so many weapons dangling from their uniforms they looked like twisted Christmas trees decorated by the Godfather. What kind of maniac were we traveling with who kept this sort of mafia-esque company all the time?

I tried to ignore the curious, leering gazes of the men, but I imagined they didn’t have seventeen-year-old girls passing through too often. Stone’s men took our luggage, but knowing that we’d be investigating ancient temples, I kept a backpack stuffed full of bottled water, food, a flashlight with batteries, and an extra change of clothes, just in case. We followed Ethan and the man he’d been chatting with toward the dusty building. Just past it, a Jeep was parked in front of a closed gate surrounded with more armed guards. This had to be our ride and I was more than giddy to get out of this sketchy “airport.”