The angel had gotten under her skin.
Why else would she be rummaging through dusty old books instead of stabbing hell-dwellers?
Nope. Not here.
Nothing here either.
With each tome Issa threw aside, she grew more and more frustrated. She was running out of time and she'd found nothing helpful. Could Lilith be killed? How? Would killing her end the Apocalypse? Issa told herself that she needed to be sure, but as she looked out and saw the sunset, she knew she was lying to herself.
She was stalling.
The seed of doubt planted by the angel was growing. She was afraid. Afraid that she would fail to kill Lilith. Afraid that killing Lilith would do no good. Afraid that she was going to waste her newfound freedom dying a senseless death instead of saving humanity.
Issa cackled. Saving humanity. She actually wanted to save humanity? She was no hero—she was a monster.
The cathedral painting loomed at her from the walls and Yassper's forlorn form flashed before her eyes. He'd been motionless amidst the screaming, daggers hanging limply at his sides, his face tilted up towards the collapsing archways. She could imagine him turning, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he'd drawled out his usual greeting. Well if it isn't little Izzy.
There was nothing little about her, of course. She'd stabbed anyone else who called her Izzy. But to Yassper, whose hulking form towered a good feet over most, and whose warm eyes crinkled every time he saw her—she was little Izzy.
He'd never turned.
A colossal chunk of cathedral had struck him and the only things she'd recovered whole were the daggers.
Issa hurled a thick volume at the painting. It crashed to the ground, sending a cloud of dust flying. She grabbed the nearest statue and flung that too. The golden stone bounced off the canvas and smashed into what remained of the display windows. The deafening sound of glass shattering snapped Issa back to her senses.
What the literal-hell-on-earth was she doing? Someone could be nearby. Someone could find her.
Clutching her throbbing abdomen, Issa stepped over the broken glass and the puddles of blood and ducked out of the shop.
The skies were blotchy, the sun a ghastly half-cut orange on the horizon.
She'd been free for an entire day, and she'd done absolutely nothing. Instead, she was still leaking blood like a faulty tap, chocked full of angel glory and apparently also all of the empath stupidity that came with it.
Too many choices. She'd never had to question herself. She'd never had to question her task. She'd never had to think. Now that she could think, the tsunami of thoughts was overwhelming.
At this rate, she was going to die without even trying to kill Lilith.
Overhead, the patter of footsteps caught her attention. The bawdy sun had finally set. It was nightfall and the hell-dwellers and their Acolytes were on another raid.
Eyes were everywhere and Issa drew back into the shadows. If the Acolytes were out on a raid, it meant Lilith was alone with her harem of favoured hell-dwellers. It meant she was easier to kill. Issa glanced at her blood-soaked wound. In her current condition, she doubted she could take down one hell-dweller, let alone a harem.
Without a Keeper, her body felt heavy. As she watched the swarm of black pinpricks in the canvas of the night sky—thousands of hell-dwellers and their Acolytes leaping and crawling from building to building—she'd never felt more helpless. Lilith's army was vast and she was alone.
Would they find the angel? She'd left him with nothing but one dagger. If they found him, they'd drag him back to Lilith. Or if they didn't recgonise him for what he was, they'd slaughter him together with the humans.
Issa put a hand to her forehead.
She couldn't think straight. Between the blood loss, the sudden freedom, and the shock of meeting an angel…
She hadn't planned to survive attacking Lilith. She hadn't planned to survive at all. But now, as much as she hated to admit it, there was only one sensible thing left to do: Find the angel.
… who was probably three or more cities away in the opposite direction.
Issa wanted to curse but didn't have the energy to. With a grunt, she began to drag herself back from where she came, feeling absolutely ridiculous.
Was there going to be any blood left in her by the time she found him?
Issa had no idea how she was still standing, let alone walking. She was using every bit of her concentration to put one trembling foot in front of the other.
A flash of pink caught the corner of her eye.
The hallucinations were starting. Issa looked up to see a little girl in a frilly pink frock as she rummaged through a garbage can three times her size. Her dark hair was unkempt and several ribbons were missing from her frock.
Issa paused to lean against a shadowy wall, blinking several times as she waited for her foggy mind to clear and the hallucination to fade.
A breeze brushed against her skin and she straightened as someone swooped in front her, landing noiselessly before her hallucination. The hardened silver scales that gleamed around his neck and shoulders told her he was a demon. He raised his flail—the thorny ball, the clinking chain—and all at once, Issa realised the little girl was real.
She didn't remember moving.
All she knew was that she was between the girl and the demon, her hand fisting the chain of his flail, her dagger buried in his gut. The demon gurgled, looking at her in shock. "A-Acolyte?" He dropped dead.
The little girl turned.
The moonlight flashed, highlighting the sharp curve of Issa's dagger and her bloodied white dress, and Issa realised what she must look like to a small, human girl.
Pretty rosebud lips parted, and huge grey eyes widened. The word that left her lips was one that made every muscle in Issa's body freeze in astonishment.
"Angel."
The girl looked up at her not with fear but with awe. She clutched the edges of Issa's dress as though she were something special—something blessed. "You're an angel, aren't you?"
Issa had no time to answer.
She scooped the girl around the waist and spun out of the way as more demons leapt and crawled towards them, their flails and axes and maces gleaming menacingly.
"Alice!" someone shouted from the distant shadows.
Issa parried a blow. The demon growled and Issa's arm trembled, the other hell-dwellers closing in, and still, the girl clung to her dress, staring and staring. Issa looked at her in disbelief.
"What are you waiting for? Scram! Get the hell out of here!" she barked.
"Alice!" the voice was closer now, almost right behind her, and panicked. Whoever it was grabbed the girl and ran. The hell-dwellers began to chase after them but Issa blocked them, marvelling at herself. One day with an angel and it made her as suicidal as Yassper.
"Fucking seraph," she muttered under her breath. She was sorely outnumbered. "Where's the guardian angel when you need him?"
As though he heard her summon, golden light burst in the midst of the demons, Edvardiel wielding her curved blade like he'd been born with it.
She jerked back in surprise.
He lifted her curved blade, directing his glory into it—
The metal shattered.
"Oh, crap." Edvardiel hastily stabbed the tiny, melted stump into a salivating hell-dweller and then kicked him aside.
Issa deflected a blow that would've taken his head off. "Why didn't you just light yourself up instead of destroying my blade?" she shouted, upset as half of what she'd have left of Yassper vanished in a spurt of demon blood.
"Light myself up?" he repeated, ducking. "What good would that do?"
"Obliterate everyone within a ten-foot radius?"
Edvardiel pulled her away before a hell-dweller could stab her. "Including you?" he said. "Not to mention, that would be a colossal waste of glory."
"Seraph—"
"My name's Edvardiel," he said.
Issa would've stabbed him if her blade wasn't a foot deep in a hell-dweller's abdomen. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't fucking care!"
"Then why'd you call me?"
She turned scarlet. "I thought you were being eaten by hell-dwellers."
It was half true.
"I don't taste that good."
Issa opened her mouth, about to tell him exactly what he tasted like—
Bang!
She jumped and narrowly avoided getting bludgeoned in the head by demon mace. "What the fuck—"
Bang!
"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled as they stood back to back. Her eyes zeroed in on the gun in his hand and she saw that its muzzle was pointing to the ground. Not only that, he was holding it in the most awkward position possible.
"Give that to me," she demanded.
"Here. Here! Take this one… no wait… This one." He reached clumsily into his torn robes and pulled out a rifle. As he pulled it out, a bunch of guns spilled to the ground.
Issa didn't have time to warn him not to shoot off his crown jewels. He was still holding the gun the wrong way and she grabbed his shoulder with her free hand, holding him in front of her.
"Don't touch anything!" she ordered.
"Are you using me as a shield?"
"I'm the one who knows how to use this." She gritted her teeth. "Better you get gutted than me."
Before he could reply, she'd taken aim, firing several rounds in a row as she steered him around and around.
By the time they'd gotten away, they were both panting and covered in blood.
"So I'm guessing you didn't find Lilith," Edvardiel said.
Issa was too winded to give him a proper retort. "And you didn't find your wings."
"No." He sighed and covered his face, leaving a hideous handprint of blood across his forehead, and then looked down at the pistol in his hand.
"Where'd you find the guns?" she asked.
He sighed again. "I took them off the bodies before I buried them."
"What bodies?"
"The three humans you killed this afternoon," Edvardiel said stiffly.
Issa stared.
He'd buried the bodies, risking exposure to a hoard of hell-dwellers and possibly cannibalistic humans.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for patience before remembering that Heaven's gates were fucking locked. She shook her head and started to limp, dragging her feet through the abandoned subway. "Let's just go before you get us both killed."
With extreme, almost comical care, Edvardiel stowed the gun into his robe before he caught up with her and smirked. "I recalled saving you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Really? I recalled saving you."
She tried to brush past him but he stopped her, his gaze shifting to her dress. "You're bleeding."
"I didn't notice," she said sarcastically.
"We should stop for a bit. Maybe stitch you up."
She wanted to push him away, but she was so dizzy. She propped herself up against one of the subway pillars as he peeled away bloodied strips of his robe from her abdomen. "Empaths," she gasped. "You drive me crazy."
"Empaths?" He tilted his head.
She hissed in pain. "You don't know where your wings are, you don't know what Acolytes are and now you don't know what empaths are. Do you know anything at all?"
"What is it with you and your tantrums?" He caught her as her legs gave out, guiding her to the floor.
"Maybe it's because I'm stuck with the most useless angel in the world."
He pressed his lips together. "You haven't met a lot of angels, have you?"
"Obviously not, since Lilith sealed Heaven's gates."
"Did she, now?" It was a real question.
Hopeless. He was utterly hopeless.
"Oh for fuck's sake," she said, her temper flaring. "You want to know what an empath is? It's someone who feels when they shouldn't. Someone who cares when they shouldn't. Someone who doesn't put their lives first so they end up dead."
Edvardiel blinked several times. "If you put it that way… most of us are empaths. You're an empath."
"You've been stuck in that void for too long," Issa said. "All the other empaths are dead. Unlike you, I actually try to stay alive."
"By running headlong into Lilith's den with a wound like this?" He looked pointedly at her profusely bleeding gash.
Issa opened her mouth and then closed it.
"I had a plan," she said at last.
"I'm sure you did," he muttered. He put a hand over her wound and she yelped in pain.
"If you want to kill me, all you need to do is walk away," she grumbled.
He didn't deign that with a reply. Golden warmth emanated from his fingertips and the pain faded away. She felt oddly comforted by the sensation, as though she were being blanketed in safety. Her muscles slackened and she felt her eyelids growing heavy.
"What are you doing?" she mumbled.
"You might be asleep for a while." His words sounded like they came from underwater.
"Seraph, you'd better not…" Her threat hung in the air, unfinished, as she nodded off.