All expression slid away from his face.

“His name was Mae’eldeesahn.”

“Was he—? Did you kill him?”

“No. No, I trapped him. He’s gone.”

Relief softened his features, but only just. He was more confused than anything.

“But he—Reyes, he’d hijacked a human host.”

“That’s what they do.”

“No, it’s—honey, I’m so sorry.” A sob broke my voice. I knew what this was going to do to him. “He took Kim.”

A half smile curved his mouth for a microsecond as he studied me in disbelief.

I stepped to the side and showed him. Kim was lying facedown on the pavement, an arm thrown across her back, the angles all wrong. Her red hair fanned out over her head like a halo.

“I’m so sorry.”

He pulled out of my grasp and walked over to her. Kneeled down. Turned her over and wrapped her in his arms so that her face was almost touching his. He pushed her hair to the side and saw the sores. The sunken features. The yellowing of the skin and darkening of the bruises.

He exhaled sharply, fighting a sob. Then another. And another.

I sank to my knees, knowing there was nothing I could do.

His fingers balled into fists and then splayed against her as he pulled her into a tight embrace. He held the back of her head. Buried his face in her hair. And exploded into a sea of flames.

I realized then that people had surrounded them. But they only saw a distraught man holding a woman.

Or so I thought.

When he burst into flames, it was both on the intangible plane and the tangible one. Kids screamed and adults covered them as they dragged them away. And everyone, every single person there, ran.

Rising to my feet, I realized I had to do something, but the fire was too hot. I couldn’t even get close. I could no longer see him. I covered my mouth as I watched my husband set fire to everything in a twenty-foot radius. Then thirty. Then forty. The roller coaster nearby. The arcade. The cotton candy stand. The ice cream parlor. One attraction after another became engulfed in flames as people screamed and ran and stumbled over one another.

Smoke billowed around me as families darted in all directions.

“I have no choice,” I heard a voice say from behind me.

I turned to see Michael, my favorite archangel, standing there.

Rage enveloped me. “This is not the time.”

He drew his sword.

This was not the time. The rage I felt at what he was threatening, at what Jehovah had done, erupted like volcano inside me. I ground my teeth together but showed him my palms as though in surrender.

Then I turned my left palm down. Artemis rose into it, materializing beside me. She lowered her head and bared her teeth and let loose a growl from deep within her chest.

Then I turned my right palm up. My old friend and guardian of a sort, Mr. Wong, materialized beside me. He put his hand in mine for a quick squeeze before drawing his own sword. His armor glistened, and power—as much power as I felt radiating out of Michael—pulsed out of him in glorious waves.

Michael grinned. “Do you think I’d come to a battle unprepared?”

Through the swell and ebb of smoke, a dozen angels appeared behind him.

I lifted a brow. “Do you think I would?”

Behind us, twelve hellhounds rose from the ground. They snarled and snapped, pawed at the earth, begged to be given free rein. The angels readied themselves.

“I need to have a word with your boss,” I said.

“Not today.” He lowered his head as though giving a silent order, and legions of angels appeared behind him. Hundreds upon hundreds as far as the eye could see—but there was a lot of smoke—all ready to fight.

“Michael,” I said as though disappointed. “This is getting embarrassing.”

And behind me, thousands and thousands of departed materialized. Beep’s army. I called forth every name Rocket had ever written, and they stood like a sea of warriors. Ready to fight for my daughter, because if she was going to survive, she needed her father. I needed her father.

“Like I said, this is not the time.”

“He made a binding promise,” Michael said. “All three gods of Uzan. Off this plane. For all eternity.”

“You tricked him.”

“I let Rey’aziel trick himself.”

“But that’s not really his name, is it?”

He didn’t answer that. Instead he looked past me at the flames that were now a hundred feet high. “He will soon go nuclear and level this town, if not several more. We aren’t in the habit of giving passes to those who would see hundreds of thousands die.”