Hereafter

by ScaraMedn

When Judy gets her dream assignment on earth the last thing she expects is a nightmare. A crisis, an enemy operative with his own mission, and souls gone missing. With no support, she's left to make a terrible choice: failure, or a deal with a demon. With damnation and apocalypse looming, can she trust a demon with a fox's smile?

24. Chapter 22

A/N:

We're back! After way too damn long struggling with writer's block and lousy circumstances we have a new chapter of Hereafter for your reading enjoyment! We also have a special treat in form of a comic, courtesy of TheWyvernsWeaver! See link below.

thewyvernsweaver/art/ Hereafter-The-Lost-Fallen-762465463

My usual thanks go out to the following:

kt_valmiri for soundboarding.

TheWyversWeaver for the cover art.

Damlone and BlueberryandHoney for beta reading.

OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing.

If you're interested in supporting Hereafter or my other writing, you can buy me a coffee. Check out the link in my profile for more details.

In addition to this chapter, look for my other postings in Dirt Road Were, Duet, Knight Errored and (shortly) Pigment Clay. This little surge of creativity is my way of saying thank you to all of my readers for your support and encouragement. You were a humongous help and I am extremely grateful.

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Nick gaped soundlessly as the rabbit walked away. He knew he was doing a flawless imitation of a fish out of water, only without the literal flopping around. He certainly felt like one, but couldn't find it in himself to care.

It took a minute for Nick's mental faculties to comprehend anything past the limited scope of his own inner-upheaval and the sight of Judy's rolling hips. Gazelle's titters and Finnick's guffaws finally snapped him out of his reverie. Then he ignored them.

This was hardly the first time someone had known something he hadn't. Or revealed it so theatrically. Or expertly. It was a first, however, in that he wasn't inclined to rip the offending being to shreds. That was worrisome.

Inside, he was in turmoil. His Pride had been stung in his own den, so his need to enforce his dominance should have been clawing at his mind. It wasn't. He should have been mildly aroused at the thought of putting an upstart in their place, but his Lust was not piqued. It was raging. She'd gotten him good, and he was turned on in ways he hadn't thought possible. He should have been furious or focused on his Sins or, at the very least, falsely nonplussed to save face. It was a miracle he wasn't lifting the table. That was the part that worried him.

And the whole "being in love with an angel" thing. He'd heard wilder accusations. Many of them directed at him, but none so absurd. It was a joke. Had to be.

"Boss…" Finnick's wary voice pulled Nick from his self-affirmations.

He glanced at the imp in annoyance. "What?"

"You're glowing."

He looked distractedly at his paw, noting the luminescence and shrugging. "Meh. Old news."

"Say what?"

"It's a thing he does," Judy answered as she trotted back to the table with her arms full of books and documents.

"A thing?" the fennec asked incredulously.

"Lieutenant, this is highly irregular. I've never heard of…of—" The Cursori's babbling was cut off by a wave of power rolling through the room.

Judy paused in setting her pile on the table. "What was that?"

"It felt like another quake," Gazelle replied nervously.

Nick shrugged. "It wasn't me this time."

"Us, you mean," Judy corrected.

He snickered around his coffee mug. "I rocked your world. Literally!"

"And now you have a new bad joke," she fired back without missing a beat.

"Is this really happening?" Gazelle asked incredulously.

"Is what?" Nick inquired as he put his mug down.

The Cursori scoffed. "Are we really making jokes about something powerful enough to shake the foundations of reality and ignoring the fact that the Devil is glowing gold?"

"The little Messenger found her spine at last…" Nick commented, amused.

Finnick interjected, "Did you rut each other's brains out for real?"

Nick snorted. "Tactless as ever, Finn."

"Whatever," the imp snapped back. "At least your wit still works. Now what the fuck is going on?"

Nick pulled the stack Judy had brought to the table closer. "Before I begin, I should ask what you've been up to. My input is significant, but the potential arrival of the Host is a bit more pressing."

The imp scowled. "We did our part, but my suspicions were correct. Something ain't right with the Gate they had Zelle put together."

Judy leaned forward in her seat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I've seen plenty of gate spells and I've never seen one like this. Either they're planning to bring in Legions, or the Divine himself is planning to drop in with his full entourage."

Gazelle spoke up as Finnick finished, "The substrate for the spell is incredibly complex. Layers upon layers of safety protocols and reinforcements with barriers to contain what they will be sending through. It's frightening that they want so much power contained."

"You still have no idea what's actually coming?" Failing hope colored Judy's words.

"No, and I can't guess either." Gazelle sipped her coffee. "A thousand angels can dance on the head of a pin, as the saying goes, so it could be the whole Host or a pawful of the most powerful."

Nick hummed to himself. "I presume you were able to slip in a few counter measures?"

"I ain't no fool, fox," Finnick growled. "I know how to hide cut-outs and fail-safes in magical syntax. I made sure the Gate would fail when and if we want it to or if it overloads."

"You boobytrapped it, didn't you?" Nick asked with a knowing smile.

"I set up a feedback cutout that will trap the power in the circle and force it back towards its source. If the Host wants to kill Zelle 'accidentally' with a power surge, it'll backfire on them and collapse the circle on whoever makes it through."

Judy blinked in surprise. "You can do that?"

"He can do that and then some." The Cursori's tone was very pleased. "I never knew you could do half the things he's shown me so far."

Nick chimed in, "Finnick is unique in many ways. One of which is his…flexibility and adaptability when it comes to wielding power."

"What does that mean?" Judy asked, confused.

"It means I ain't got much. So what I got, I've got to use well."

"It means he's covered that end of things, so we can move on to what I've managed to figure out," Nick stated with finality.

Judy leaned in. "And that would be…?"

"A lot that's blatantly unhelpful." Nick sighed and reached for the stack. "The tomes I asked for were a waste of time except for The Lay of Tartarus."

"So you did find something?" she prompted.

He nodded reluctantly. "Something yes. But more via implication than statement."

Gazelle shook her head. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that Tartarus is actually a prison," Nick commented. "The Lay predates the War of the Wager. It's one of the few documents that has survived until now. According to it, Tartarus was designed to contain, and I quote, 'the great power that had infected Hell and corrupted its Warders, the Pretender to kinship with the Divine.'"

"What does that mean?" Judy echoed.

"It means that Tartarus was designed to imprison something that attacked Heaven and pretended to be the equal to the Divine." Nick tapped his chin in mock consideration. "Now, who do we know that was a pretender to the Throne of Heaven and corrupted the Warders?"

Finnick held up his paws to stop the sarcasm and asked, "Are you saying Lucifer is imprisoned in Tartarus?"

"The First Commander of Hell?" Nick nodded. "Possibly. Can you think of anyone else who fits the bill?"

Finnick rubbed his face with his paws. "No."

"Then we have to assume Lollipop is Lucifer and is trying to break out of Tartarus." Gazelle looked sick as the words left her mouth.

Judy was quick to push for more. "Did you learn anything else?"

"The Compendium and the memory stones comprising the The Codex were essentially worthless." Nick waved at the box of diamonds accompanying the tomes. "They're among the oldest documents in Hell and incredibly valuable in terms of history, but covered nothing of value to us in our current situation."

"What about the Canticles?" Finnick inquired. "Was there anything in there?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "It's a religious scripture on the nature of suffering. I didn't waste my time looking through it for clues."

"And my little addition?" Finnick was grinning.

"I was curious why you brought the Archivist's personal journal, but I have to say it was beneficial." Nick summoned a gold Coin and flicked it to the imp. "How did you get ahold of it?"

"Luck." The imp chuckled.

"I won't ask."

Judy interrupted the foxes, "What made you think to steal the journal?"

"The Archivist is as old as Hell itself, or so it's said, so he probably knew Lucifer. I figured there might be something in his personal records. As senior officers, the Archivist and Lucifer would have been fairly familiar. Possibly close." The fennec fox shrugged. "It was a long shot, but when I had the opportunity I took a chance and grabbed one that looked close to the right time frame. What did you find?"

"Only an oblique reference to the reign of Lucifer Morningstar." Nick opened the small book and flipped to the relevant page. "'Conflicts of loyalties lead to rifts. The chasm it became in him was his undoing. At least, his legacy will remain unsullied so long as it remains where he left it.'"

Judy blinked. "That's…annoyingly unhelpful."

"It's vague, but it does clarify one key point." The journal flopped back onto the pile. "Lucifer's undoing came about by dividing his loyalty. He was the first Devil and we always assumed he was loyal only to himself. So what was this other thing that caused a 'chasm' in him?"

"That would be good to know." Judy rubbed her chin in consideration. "If we know how he was brought down and imprisoned, we could use that against him now."

Gazelle piped up, "So, all we know is that Lucifer is coming for us."

"Suspect," Nick corrected. "We suspect that Lucifer is coming for us."

"Is there any doubt?" The Cursori asked fearfully.

He sipped his coffee. "I wonder."

Judy was confused. Something had clearly been bothering Nick all morning and not just the sand-bagging she'd pulled on him. She wasn't sure, but he'd been distracted since Finnick and Gazelle had left. By now, they were probably done making the necessary arrangements with Clawhauser for the possibility of an evacuation.

She'd been impressed by Nick's idea to involve the mortal in their plans. Of course, the police would have such procedures in place for the city in the case of a natural emergency. The earthquakes were a perfectly plausible excuse. Making use of them to clear the area in case of open conflict with the Host or Lollipop was a clever idea. With celestial back up on its way, it was only wise.

Judy shook her head. Now, she was calling it "Lollipop" along with everyone else.

With that thought in her mind, Judy collected the last of her gear and checked it one more time. The Gate was finished, so it was only a matter of time until it was open and the best time for that was noon when Heaven's powers were at their height. She would have preferred to spend the hours between their guests leaving and their own departure in more enjoyable ways, but she was not about to go into a fight unprepared. Nick, however, seemed disinclined to do anything beyond roll that stoneware bottle in his paws and stare at the box of diamond and books. He looked deep in thought and confused—like there was some puzzle he was failing to figure out.

She found herself appreciating how cute he was when he was thinking, which was not a good thought, as she finished preparing her weapons and armor. She still had two hours until noon and, with nothing to do all, what filled her mind was what she'd like to be doing for the next hour or two.

She walked over to her fox, trying to keep the extra sway out of her hips and her mind out of the gutter. "A good vintage?"

"Hmm?" He blinked and looked up at her, completely unguarded in his distraction. She wanted to kiss him.

"Your wine." Judy nodded at the bottle in his paws. "Is it a good vintage?"

"A very good vintage, but not for drinking," Nick replied with a wry smirk. "This is Sanguinem Titanas, or 'Titan's Blood' if you need it translated."

"Titan…. That has to be a euphemism. The titans were a myth."

"So are half the things we've dealt with lately," Nick grumbled ruefully. "This is the elixir used in the rite of ascension to the throne of Hell. Finnick was giving me a little hint to hurry up."

"Ok…?" Judy took the bottle and turned it in her paws. "So if you don't drink it, what do you do with it?"

"The Devil Aspirant is anointed with this and then must hold their claim against all challengers for three days. If they survive and claim the crown, the rest of the elixir is used to anoint his lieutenants. It becomes their badge of office, temporarily." He looked at the bottle unhappily. "If he stole a bottle of this, it must be worse than we thought down there."

Judy smiled fondly at him and handed it back. "Is the future king of Hell concerned for his kingdom?"

All she got in return was a frustrated sigh.

"What else is bothering you?"

"There's something about this that doesn't add up." He dropped the bottle onto the table and drummed his fingers. "I can't put my finger on it, but there's something off about this whole situation."

"Like it feels engineered?" Judy nodded. "I get that feeling too."

"Not just that," he grumbled. "It's obvious we're being manipulated. But there's something that doesn't feel right about Lucifer's involvement."

"Something like what?"

"I don't know. That's the trouble. I can't name it." Now he was on his feet and pacing. "Something just doesn't feel right. If I could name it, I would be able to do something about it. But I can't. This feeling of…uselessness was old some time ago."

"You—" she retorted with a snort—"are anything but useless."

"When you stare at my belt buckle and say that, your meaning becomes obvious." Nick leaned back against the table, displaying said garment and grinning.

"Sorry!"

"I'm not. But we don't have time for that at the moment."

She closed the distance between them. "We have almost two hours. More if we're willing to cut it a little close…"

Nick smiled in a predatory way that made her belly tighten. "Are you sure you're up for it, sweetheart?"

"Well…" Her paws slid over his chest. "I've heard about something called a quickie…. I think we have time for that."

His voice turned husky. "You did do your homework, didn't you?"

"I also wanted to try something else…. Um…"

"Spit it out, Darlin'."

Judy giggled at his accidental pun. "That's the exact opposite of what I want to do." Seeing his eyebrows rise sharply, she grinned and leaned into him. "You did some fairly interesting things with your tongue last night. I think it would only be fair that I learn to return the favor.… If you're willing to teach me, of course."

Nick scooped her up and rumbled, "I think we can manage a beginner's lesson."

Judy threw her arms around his neck. "But I want the full course, professor."

"I see you read up on role-play too."

Judy grinned as hints of violets and sulfur began to drift on the air. "I did the reading, but I want a full course of study, sir."

"That'll take time," Nick purred as they neared the bed.

"Then, we'd better get started."

Puzzles and riddles were pastime in Hell—one Nick was very well acquainted with. Meaning and inference, words and syntax, suffering and flesh. This, however, was a horrible conglomeration of his least favorite variety: Possibility. There was nothing so dangerous for a demon as delving too far into potentials. It could lead to hope. That had led to madness and ruin for far too many of his kind.

Still…it was intriguing.

There was much he could be doing while his angel slept off their "lesson"—as she'd put it—but Nick found it impossible to do anything but sit and think. He still had an hour before she'd need waking, and it would take plenty of willpower not to slow time and knot her again before facing whatever the Host was going to throw at them. If he did, she'd be too drained to fight and that could potentially be a problem.

Bored, Nick lifted a diamond from the box and considered it. It was such a clever idea to use diamonds for record keeping. Paper didn't do well in Hell, nor did most materials, so Infusing memories into diamonds was a very effective way to counter that. It was faster to absorb knowledge too when it was dumped into your mind as though you'd experienced the learning directly. Leaning back, he flicked the small stone towards the box he'd taken it from and rolled his eyes as it bounced off the rim, landing by the Lay.

The Lay of Tartarus was one of the few traditional books that could survive Hell. Its binding was made from The Leviathan's scales, and its pages were skin from fallen angels. The macabre character of the tome was only enhanced by the similarity it bore to a certain holy book, right down to the illuminations. It was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship. Even the ribbon page-markers were gilded and adorned with jewels.

Nick blinked.

An absurd thought flitted through his mind. There was a diamond….no, a Tartarus Diamond….set in the tassel cinch on one of the page-markers. With all the secrets and misdirection they'd faced, could it be?

He lifted the gilded rock between his fingers and, half-sure it would do nothing, thought the words.

Cedite.

He felt a mental slap. A slow pulse of light emanated from the gem and quieted. There was definitely something in there.

Ostende!

Another mental slap.

Nick's eyes narrowed. It made sense that this memory stone would be protected. The trouble was finding the correct passphrase. On a whim, he flipped to the cover page of the Lay and considered the listed illuminations. The Devil was the obvious choice, but too obvious. The Tower was unlikely. The Hierophant, Priestess, and the rest of the major Arcana all were passed over until he reached The Sun. Lucifer was called 'The Morningstar', which was the sun, but there was no script on the page. Another word for which was…

"Dawnstar."

A quick flip to The Star had Nick grinning like a triumphant fool. Only, there were no words on the page. He snarled and grumbled to himself.

"This is absurd."

Then his eyes fell on the Archivist's journal.

"Conflicted loyalties…. A chasm within him…. Downfall…" It clicked. "He'd feel a fool."

The illumination of The Fool was blank of words, just as the others were, except for one phrase scribbled in the margins.

"Cognosce te ipsum." Nick's head cocked. "Know thyself? Seriously?" He snorted. "It was better in Greek."

He leaned back into his chair and sipped his lukewarm coffee. It wasn't much, but it was a clue.

"How does one know thyself?" he mused aloud.

Meditation and reflection.

Judy?

Stop thinking so loud. I have an hour.

Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you in a bit.

The grumbling he got in reply as she drifted off was amusingly adorable. Nick closed the Bond and let her rest, hoping it'd stay that way. He took another sip of his coffee and gagged. It was officially cold, bitter and off-putting. He dumped out the sludge and poured a fresh cup from the carafe, stirring in a small spoonful of sugar and a drop of cream as an indulgence. As he stirred, he considered.

"Reflection…"

He licked the spoon clean and checked his reflection in it. "Refle….Oh. Of course."

Moments later, he was holding The Fool up to a mirror he'd unearthed from another crate. In the border of the illumination, repeated over and over again around the page, was another Latin phrase. Nick grinned as he sat back in his chair and took the coded ornament in his paw.

"Thus let the light shine," the fox chuckled to himself.

It was so disgustingly obvious. He focused on the stone and hardened his will.

Sic Luceat Lux.

Memories not his own slammed into his mind in a flood. Decades, centuries of memory screamed through his synapses from the stone.

A montage of Hell as it once had been slowly coalesced. He saw Pandemonium as a shining extension of Heaven and the Silver City of the Host with Hades Citadel presiding over it. It was beautiful. He'd named the city as a joke. It was the one place specifically designed to keep order in Creation, so the name was a perfect irony. His bondmate hated it, but indulged him.

Then, came many years of hard work and leadership. Heaven responded less and less to his pleas and eventual demands for help. They did not believe his reports. He was losing faith and the Divine was focused more on her own duties than his needs or their relationship. It was a forced partnership, but such things always were in the first place.

He watched the slow spread of corruption and the looming darkness that had settled over the Citadel from his tower and brooded. Hell had gotten progressively more brutal and his rule more strained in recent years. It was harder to keep the peace and maintain order, even among his own Warders. They had been out campaigning again, trying to bring the increasingly unruly local inhabitants under control. Hades Citadel became Dis, Helheim became Hell, and Pandemonium ceased to be an ironic name for his city.

He was tired, careworn and afraid. That was when the apparition appeared to him for the first time. Nick felt himself slowly succumbing to the temptation.

"Another failure."

The fox sat on his chair and frowned. The apparition was growing bold. "I have not failed."

The apparition scoffed. "You have failed to bring Her around to your way of thinking. Were you not supposed to be equals? She in Heaven and you in Hell? Equally responsible? Equally powerful? And yet, you are forced to bow to Her will."

The form of shadows and dust reclined in mid-air, leaning against nothing, mocking him. It cooed and condescended, alternately goading and mocking him. It was an old pattern, grown common in the time since it had first appeared to him—a pattern he was weakening to after another long, fruitless discussion with Her Highness.

He snorted. "It is my duty."

"Duty…" the apparition sighed. "What duty is there when one's devotion is so assumed?"

"I gave my oath as Seraph and Warden."

"And she gave hers twice, just as you did. You have upheld your end of the bargain." The smoke form seemed to smirk. "Has she?"

"She is Divine."

The apparition huffed a small laugh. "A title and no more. Divine and Warden, overseers of the Engine of Creation and Tartarus Prison, respectively. Each vital. Each inescapable. And yet, you bow to Her in contravention of the agreement and the vow you each gave to the other in secret."

The Warden glanced at the Bondmark on his right paw. It was Her mark, designating him the Right Arm of Heaven and the second among equals in service to the Host in leadership. Yet, that mark seemed to mean less and less, anymore. Even as she bore his child, he was diminished—relegated to enduring his service alone and ignored, unable to help as even more was heaped on her.

The apparition's voice snapped his mind back to the present. "What do you desire?"

The armored vulpine scowled. "I am the Warden of Tartarus. I desire nothing."

"Liar," the apparition countered with a snort, its voice turning pouty as it curled briefly around his body like a lover. "You desire more than the post of neglected watchman over a doorway."

He swept an arm through the mist-shape and snarled, "Untrue."

"Liar again." The words were poisoned honey, but the truth of them was inescapable. The pout became a grin too wide for the shadow's face. "You desire more. Your bond-mate was not your choice, and, despite the whelp she carries, you are no master. Your throne is at Her discretion. You are no ruler. You are a servant."

The Warden's scowl deepened. "I serve the Host."

"You would serve better on Her throne." It launched itself into the air and settled into a languorous slouch on the back of his chair. "She could rest. Bear your offspring in peace while you shoulder the burden of rule."

He shot to his feet and paced before his seat, snarling, "I serve where I am needed!"

"You are wasted where you are." His guest whispered seductively as it paced beside him on the ceiling. "Leave your lies behind you and accept yourself. You desire the throne of the Heavens."

"No."

"Don't you desire all thrones?"

His pacing stopped and the red fox sagged. "I desire more than this," he admitted to himself aloud.

"Then take my hand. With me, your kingdoms awaits."

The malformed paw hung in the air, waiting. The Commander of Hell looked at it and chewed his tongue. He did not like how this conversation had gone, but he could no longer deny the truth of the apparition's words. The wraith that had plagued him for so long had been accurate in its foretelling. She had turned her back on their vows. He was still trapped in Hell with his duty and nothing more.

They had not spoken outside of official capacities for too long and their attachment was purely political, now. Their Bond remained sealed shut on her end when it wasn't in use and that was all the proof he needed. The affection they'd had for each other was clearly a thing of the past. Despite that, the Warden Commander of Hell still had an interest in his child. The rule of Heaven was taxing Her and it would only harm his offspring if it continued.

He stroked his chin as he regarded the specter. "Purely for the sake of argument, if I did accept your terms there is still a worry. My Warders are faithful and my supporters in the Host will rise with me, but our numbers are not enough. We do not have an army to match the Host and let me claim the Throne."

"Oh, my dear prison-keeper…. You have an army." With a wave of a ghostly limb, the specter beckoned him out onto the balcony that overlooked the city and the great works he had built as master and commander of Hell. "You have souls. The sparks that collect the power you call mana can become your soldiers. Use them."

"That would make them abominations."

"To a good cause," the wraith simpered earnestly. "With you on the Throne of Heaven, they can all be released back to turn on the wheel of reincarnation. A small sacrifice."

"A terrible thing."

"Great leaders must make such choices. And it is only for a short time. That is something else you can control, is it not?"

After a moment of thought, he shook his head. "It will still not be enough."

"Then take from this place!" the apparition boomed, its face a rictus of impatience. "The animals and plants; the land itself. It is yours to command! Take what you must to do what is necessary! Spare her the weight of rule, sate your ambition, and put right the wrong done to you. What little matter is one realm's use, when all realms will benefit from it?"

"I would become a monster..."

"A hard choice is the mark of a great leader. One fit to rule all of Creation, not just one, minute corner of it."

"It is too much to ask for."

"Freedom too much to ask for?" The force of the statement brought him up short in his boots, and he stared in horror at the scowling form before him. "You desire freedom, nothing else. You are trapped here, unable to do what is needful for the betterment of everyone. You are impotent, pinioned in place by vows you value when the ones you made them with have discarded theirs to you. The freedom is there to be taken. So be free. Take my hand and claim your rightful place in the order of the world. I offer liberty to stand at my side. Creation and all that is will be yours to claim if you simply accept."

"Accept what?" he rasped.

"My offer. Freedom to be all you aspire to, under my wing."

The proud fox straightened and stared down his nose with a sneer. "No."

"What?"

He lifted his chin a fraction. "I will not."

"You dare?!" the being snarled.

"I will not grovel at your foot in exchange for escaping enslavement to Her," he spat. "I will not trade one master for another. I will be free on my own terms or you can rot in your prison, while I waste away. It is your choice. Not mine."

The wraith floated silent for a moment before breathing, "So be it...Warden."

He shook his head. "Not Warden. I will be no Warden King." He sensed the apparition looking him over from tip to tail, judging him.

"Oh?" The spark of a smirk grew on the apparition's face.

"I will claim the name of the only beings who have been free of all strictures—of form and servitude and limitations of the mind. I claim the title of Devil that I may be as free as those ancient monstrosities were."

The apparition laughed triumphantly. "So you shall be The Devil. And what do I get out of this?"

"What do you desire?"

The wraith chuckled at the reversal. "I could ask for you," it said as it curled around him. "Or I could ask for your first born, but that would simply not do." The wraith floated away and floated around the room on its back before stopping and facing him. "What I shall get…is a favor."

"A favor."

"Yes. One favor that I shall name at a time of my choosing. One you cannot deny me or refuse to fulfill."

"Is that all? I will gain the rule of all Creation with your patronage, and you will get a favor?"

"One favor at a time of my choosing and no refusal, on pain of death." The shadow offered its paw again. "Do we have an accord, Lucifer?"

Judy's eyes snapped open the moment she heard the words in her mind. She didn't know what they were, but they were definitely in Nick's voice. No sooner had those three syllables passed through her mind than she felt Nick suffering—pain, fear, misery, loss, grief, anger, and repentance flowed through her.

In an instant, she was up. Sparing no urgency, she spelled herself to speed and summoned her armor to her as she ran. She found him slumped in his chair, fists clenched and weeping. She didn't understand what was happening. The Bond wasn't allowing her to reach him.

As her terror and confusion were reaching a fever pitch, she heard a mighty boom coming from the elevator. Another followed and another, until a mass of twisted metal and wood shattered onto the floor of the shaft. Shortly behind it came a form garbed in white maille and hauberk that landed with a thud on the debris. His tabard marked him an Archangel, and he was badly wounded. His wings were tattered and blood dripped from his limbs. Immediately on his heels, a small form swooped in and landed. This one wore the tabard and armor of a Seraph.

The Divine's Guardsmen had arrived.