I launched myself to finish him off, but a light flashed—a light so blinding and quick that I was momentarily paralyzed, burying my face in my hands as my eyes burned like they were on fire. I fell to my knees, curling my limbs into myself, the heat and light just too much. The light dimmed only enough for me to squint up at its source, and the sight took my breath away.

An angel hovered above Will and me, his wings spread and luminous, dividing us from our enemies. He was not Michael, nor was he an archangel. He wore long white robes that billowed around his body in unseen wind, cloaking his brown skin. His face was gentle and determined, his russet eyes settling on me. Chained to his waist was a massive, weathered book, and in his hands he held a long, elegant staff with a beautiful, curved, jeweled blade forged to one end. The other side of me—Gabriel—knew him. He was Azrael, the holy angel of death. The Destroyer.

He nodded to me and smiled. “Gabriel,” he said, his voice eerily calm and musical. “I can stay only for a few moments, but I will hold them off. This battle is not to your advantage. For now, my sister, you must run.” He looked at Will. “Get her far away from here, Guardian.”

“Azrael!” Sammael’s cry of fury shook my entire body, and I could feel his rage scraping at my skin as his power oozed through the cellar. The leonine reapers shrieked and screeched metallic cries from somewhere unseen.

Without another word, Will took my hand and we darted through the light, Azrael’s glory too bright for me to see anything with my human eyes. I had to trust Will would find the stairs and get us both out safely. My foot hit the bottom step, and I hesitated just long enough for Will to lift me, guiding my feet up the staircase. Safely out of the blinding light drowning the cellar, we found ourselves on the first floor of an old house crumbling from battling reapers and decades of neglect.

I heard crashes from somewhere on this level and ducked instinctively. I was shocked to see Ava slash open the throat of another reaper with a short, thin sword and then drive it into his heart.

She wheeled to face us, breathless. “What’s going on down there?”

“Are we too late?” called Marcus’s voice. I turned to see Marcus kick a reaper in the chest and yank a blade from his heart as his body turned white hard with death.

Will laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Just in time. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

We slipped into the Grim, hidden from mortal sight, and the four of us ran toward the front door, down the rickety porch, and into the shadows between dilapidated houses. The whole world seemed to have a layer of gloss over it from the misty sleet, the pavement like mirrors beneath our feet. Horns honked in heavy traffic a few streets away, and the tall buildings of the city could be seen in the distance over the tops of the trees. Between two houses, Will stopped and turned to me. Ava and Marcus spread their wings and lifted into the sky.

“We’re going to have to fly now,” he said. “It’s the quickest way to escape, and they won’t be able to track us.”

I was breathless from running, but I nodded. He touched my hair as he gazed down at me, his shoulders easing with relief.

“God, I thought I’d lost you,” he breathed, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. “I thought I’d be too late to save you.”

I shook my head. “Will, I—”

Before I could finish what I’d wanted to say, his lips pressed against mine fiercely, his hands holding my hips and pulling me closer to him. I threw my arms around his neck and let myself fall into him, dropping my guard for just an instant to feel reprieve from the violence I’d endured.

“William,” said the dark, familiar voice behind us.

We sprang apart, only to find that Bastian had caught up to us. Will tore away from me with a cry of anger, his sword filling his hand.

Bastian raised his palms, his expression soft. “I’m not here to fight.”

“I will not surrender her to you,” Will snarled, pointing his blade to Bastian. “I will not yield this night, not ever!”

“I know, my son,” Bastian said. “But the part of you that is demonic yearns for this. You are going against your very nature, against your own kind. Deny it all you want, but I will only offer one more time. Join me, and I will spare your life. Hers, though, I cannot. She can undo everything we’ve worked for.”

Will let out a furious, impatient growl. “No! I will not hand her over to die so you can destroy the world!”

“William, you’re making a terrible mistake.”

“No!” Will shouted, raising his blade higher to Bastian’s throat, but I could see that he was shaking. “This is no mistake! You are the one who is mistaken and misguided. I cannot throw away five centuries like that. I cannot throw away my life like that! I will not sentence her and the rest of the world to death for anything!”

A figure in dark clothes landed and folded his silver birch–colored wings behind his back. Cadan’s arrival sent a tremor of shock through my entire body. His wings were bat wings again, to enable him to fly better in the drizzly rain. He stared at me first for what felt like a heartbreaking eternity, and then he looked painfully to Bastian.

Bastian snarled at him. “I told you to—”

“I can’t,” Cadan said, cutting him off with a quiet voice. “I can’t let you do this. This has to stop, and if I’m the one to do it, then so be it.”

Bastian’s face lit up with shock. “You’re turning against me? Was it you who killed Ivar?”