Ignoring his cries of pain, I kick open the iron door he was guarding and we all walk in with long, determined strides.
Above us, the one small circular overhead light buzzes as it bathes the corridor in a burgundy hue. Asher tosses me his sword and with one thrust, I slam it into the light.
With an angry hiss, it goes out, engulfing the hallway in complete darkness. I hand him back his sword, and we make our way up the stairs to the door with the graffiti on it.
It’s a shame to ruin such a nice piece of art, but fuck it. I kick open the door and we storm into the hallway, toward the glass doors that close off Asmodeus’s office.
Callan and Keegan simultaneously twist and throw their axes at the doors. Each one shatters into a thousand pieces. Glass falls to the floor and spreads out all around us. The shards crunch under our boots as we walk into the office and stare down the fucking demon asshole sitting at his desk, watching us with amusement.
“Gentlemen,” Asmodeus greets. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Without even thinking about it, I take a step closer, jump onto his desk, and with the back of the sage-filled gun, knock his fucking sorry ass out with one swift movement.
Turning, I look at everyone. “That felt good.”
“No doubt. Tie him up,” Asher orders.
Keegan walks around the desk, grabs Asmodeus’s body, and pulls him back into the chair, strapping him in. Callan and Asher move the chair to the middle of the office, moving the coffee table and placing him smack dab in the middle of his damn animal rug.
“What now?” Asher crosses his arms.
“Now”—I stretch my neck from side to side—“we wait for him to wake up.”
Insanity crawls its way into my psyche as I eye the demon lord. Groggily he begins to come to, and I’m unable to control my anger. Once he blinks his eyes open and looks at me, I grab Asher’s sword and run it through his heart, watching as the black tar drips out of him.
None of this shit will kill him.
But it feels fucking good to torture him.
“Let the games begin,” Callan mutters behind me.
“Stab me all you want. I can’t die.” He spits tar-blood onto the floor.
Pissed off, I backhand his face near his nose, which starts to gush blood as he grunts. I lean into his ear. “How the fuck did that feel? Being backhanded, hard?”
Asmodeus sniffs the blood in loudly and spits on the floor. “Is this about my niece?”
Standing straight, I take a step back, lift my chin and shoot him in the chest with the sage smudge. He cries out in pain as smoke escapes the gaping hole, oozing with tar.
“Maybe.” I shrug, as if bored.
“As you can see, I didn’t break the reversal spell agreement. I’m still here.”
“Not for long, asshole,” Asher exhales.
“Where is Mammon?” I snarl.
With a bloody smile, he shakes his head. “Gone. Protected.”
I lean down and whisper, “I guess you’ll just have to pay for his sins.”
“Who the fuck are you to punish demon lords?” he spits out.
“Who am I?” I chuckle at the demon. “I am a being with no soul. And you should remember that. I am someone who won’t hesitate to torture you, because I don’t have a fucking heart. I am someone who hesitates only because I like to see the fear in your eyes before you take the last few breaths of your existence. Who am I? Your niece’s MATE!”
His face pales, right before Asher angrily stabs his angelic sword into Asmodeus’s leg. The demon cries out as his leg burns, turning into ashes before disappearing into nothing.
I sit on the couch across from him, pointing to Asher’s blade. “Angelic sword.”
Asher throws me one of his perfect grins. “You’re right. It does feel good.”
“I want a turn,” Callan whines, and Asher throws him the sword.
“Nassa would never mate with a low-life gargoyle like you,” Asmodeus barks out.
“His tongue,” I say casually to Callan.
Excited, he cleanly slices off the demon’s tongue with the sword, tossing it at my feet. I bend down, pick it up, and walk over to the demon, forcing his mouth open and shoving it back in, down his throat so he chokes on it.
Gagging, he thrashes under my tight grip.
“Nassa is mine. I don’t like demon scum speaking her name. Remember that.”
Callan hands Asher his sword. “That was . . . kick-ass.”
Keegan groans. “Let’s move this along. I do have other plans tonight.”
“With whom? Kenna?” Callan asks.
“Yes, asshole.”
“Date night?” Callan inquires.
“See that?” Asher waves at his brother. “This is what you have to look forward to now, Gallagher. Nassa riding your ass about being late while you torture demons.”
At Nassa’s name, Asmodeus’s eyes narrow at me and I smile at him.
I grab his face tighter while he chokes on his own tongue. “Since our hands are tied, and we can’t kill you due to the peace treaty, we’re here to deliver a message to you and your fuckface of a brother. You know”—I tilt my head cruelly—“like the message you so nicely tried to deliver to me by nailing my mate’s skin to the door, after leaving her to bleed. The. Fuck. Out.” Asmodeus’s eyes widen with fear. “For me to find.”
Callan releases a low whistle. “Big mistake, dude. Huge.”
I lean in closer, whispering. “He’s right. Dramatic. But right. So let me be very clear. Nassa is mine. Mine. Not yours. Not Mammon’s. Not Hell’s. Not Heaven’s. MINE!”
“Someone has a sharing problem,” Callan mutters.
“Enough,” Asher warns.
“And since she is mine, I’m here to tell you very clearly that there is no reason, nothing in this world or any other, that would make me ever break my soul tie with her. Nothing,” I enunciate. “For the record, our soul tie isn’t driven by a demonic blessing anymore. It’s a divine bond now. So if you two dickheads ever think about touching another hair on her fucking gorgeous head, I will find you, bring my friends, and find a way to end your existence with the angelic sword.”
Just for fun, I shoot him in the balls with the sage gun. Tears form in his eyes as his dick smokes.
I slap his face hard a few times. “Be a love and pass on my message to your brother.”
Asmodeus flails around like a wild animal when he realizes we are leaving him like this. Smoke and dark tar seeps out of him everywhere as he vomits up his tongue onto his lap and starts howling. I stand taller and inhale.
“One more thing.” I take out my lighter. “Don’t ever fucking skin an animal again.”
I toss the lighter onto the rug and walk away, the St. Michaels following, as he burns.
31
Forever
NASSA
I press my fingertips into my arm as I stare at the Eiffel tower. Something catches my eye in the glass window. Mammon. I swear I thought I saw his dark, cold, soulless eyes staring at me from outside.
I blink, and they’re gone. Inhaling, I push away the way they make me feel. I’m guessing the cruel look in his eyes as he tortured me will haunt me for a while.
I had heard somewhere that right before you die, you see your entire life flash before your eyes. But, as I lost consciousness, all I saw were tantalizing sea-green eyes.
The same color as the vacant ones staring at me now from the leather L-shaped couch. I turn and take in the gargoyle. He’s leaning over with his hands out in front of him in a prayer gesture. He hasn’t spoken since he and the London clan got back from their errand.
Day after day while I healed, this is what he did. Sat silently in a chair in the corner of the room while Branna used magic to heal me. He brought in private doctors to check on me. They took my vitals. Checked my blood work. Performed scans. They kept doing it until everything looked and felt normal again in his eyes. The only time he spoke was when I’d heard him quietly pr
aying. To the divine. To Camilla. To anyone who would listen, begging them to bring me back to him. My heart broke with each whispered prayer.
Now, the silence stretches out between us. It’s endless and my patience with it is wearing thin. Slowly, so as not to spook him, I walk over and kneel down in front of him.
Placing my hands over his, I whisper, “Gage.”
His eyes meet mine before they drop to my neck, running across it.
A twinge of self-consciousness hits me. “Can you still see it?”
“Every fucking time I close my eyes,” he responds in a quiet voice.
Moving my hands away from me, he abruptly stands, causing me to jerk back.
“Fuck . . . ,” he breathes, and retreats to the fireplace.
I wince at the pain in his voice, sit on the couch, and look at him.
“I tortured the fucker,” he says, emotionless.
“Who?”
“Asmodeus.” His eyes hazily find mine.
“Oh,” I breathe out, and swallow.
“I shot him full of sage,” he explains flatly. “Stabbed him with an angelic sword. Cut his tongue out. Made him choke on it.” He exhales. “Then, I lit him on fucking fire.”
I look at him, taking in what he’s saying. After a moment, I stand and approach him until I’m standing in front of him. Looking up, I admire the stunning lines of his face.
Gage Gallagher just gets better and better looking with time. Like a fine liquor. For some reason, tonight, he looks older and wiser. His eyes are no longer full of recklessness but—dare I say—they look as if they’re finally at peace.
He’s staring at me as if he has no idea who I am, when in reality he is the only one who ever has known. My fingers instinctively go to the cross hanging from his necklace, holding it between my fingers, caressing it.
“I think this might be the second time I’ve seen you speechless,” he points out.
“Well, a thank you seems wildly inappropriate—” For a moment, I just stare at the cross pendant. “I like that Camilla made this. To always protect you. When you speak about her, you make it sound as if she was weak and needed your protection. Yet, even in death,” I pause, looking up at him. “She protects you.”
“She protects me, so that I can protect you,” he whispers.
At his words, I close my eyes, not wanting him to see my bliss at his words.
“Why did you torture Asmodeus?” I ask.
Warm hands cup my face. “Because you’re mine. And no one touches what’s mine.”
Tears slide down my face, and I try not to sob harder when he wipes them away.
“Yours, huh?” I open my eyes, meeting his.
Gage leans in and brushes a kiss across my lips. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Ask anyway.”
“Forgive me?”
“Always.”
“Be mine.”
“I’ve always been yours, Gallagher. It’s you who has never been mine.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve been yours from the moment we first met. The moment your eyes found mine and saw past the bullshit, I was yours. I never realized it. Until now.”
“Even if I’m not her?”
“Because you aren’t her.”
His soft touch skims my cheeks, pulling me under, soothing me.
“Be mine,” he demands again.
“Always.”
“So, you literally left a demon lord, Asmodeus, burning?”
He flinches. “Yeah. I guess we did.”
“Eve is going to love that cliché. As if the Notre Dame one wasn’t enough.”
A dark chuckle falls out of him as I look up into his serene, calm eyes.
“I need to tell you something,” I whisper.
“What’s that?”
“Noir is here. In the office. And he’s staying.”
He releases my face, backing up. “No birds. I fucking hate birds.”
“He’s my familiar. I need him. Just like you need me.”
Shaking his head, Gage takes me in. Looking relaxed. After years of seeing him filled with heartbreak and darkness, it’s weird to seem him looking . . . calm.
“All right. I’ll make you a deal.”
I narrow my eyes. “What kind of deal?”
“Noir can stay. If you do.”
“Ah,” I draw out, confused. “Pretty sure the two closets filled with my shoes and favorite band T-shirts are proof that I was already planning to stay, Gallagher.”
“Two closets?”
“I have a lot of T-shirts and shoes.”
Gage tilts his head as if I’m cute. “Be mine, forever.”
“Always.”
“No. I mean, forever, with a divine bond.”
All the air escapes my lungs as I stare at him in complete shock.
“I can’t. You’re already mated with Camilla.”
“Sora can seal our soul tie with a divine protection, binding us forever.”
“Forever?”
“Forever, buttercup.”
“Listen, Gallagher, I have had a pretty shitty few weeks. Emotionally and physically draining. So if you’re fucking with me right now, please don’t. Because I am on the verge of a complete emotional meltdown. And I will not hesitate to slap the shit out of you.”
“I’ll fuck you later. Right now, I want you, forever. Be mine . . .”
32
Dark Paradise
GAGE
I wonder if it’s normal for your heart to feel both heavy and happy all at once. It’s not lost on me that I am different. Different than the being I was when I met Camilla. Different than I was when I reconnected with Asher. Different than when I first met Nassa.
I’m not better or worse. Just different.
I let out a slow exhale, taking in the rooftop where all our friends are drinking and chatting. Despite our best efforts, Abby went fucking nuts. Candles are lit everywhere, framing the lit-up Eiffel tower.
There’s a fire pit surrounded by circular couches, a fully stocked bar in the back, and passed appetizer bites. Lights are strung across the entire roof. There are no flowers. No chairs for guests. It’s perfect.
Dark, yet warmly lit. Like my heart these days.
I love Nassa more than anything.
This is my way of showing her that a forever with me is guaranteed. Darkness and all.
She walks up to me, handing me a glass of brandy, and smiles. “Gallagher.”
“Buttercup.” I kiss her cheek, taking the glass.
“Don’t worry, I sipped it. Branna didn’t poison it.”
“Good to know.” I take a sip. “Why the alcohol?”
The corners of her mouth turn up in a rueful smile.
“I’m guessing you’re terrified.”
I take her in, running my knuckles over her cheek as she smiles up at me. “Not having you in my life terrifies me more than anything. This. Death. Asher’s piercing.”
Her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Tragic. And romantic.”
“See, I told you. I am romantic.”
“That you did.”
“I’m ready. My heart just needed time to catch up. That’s all.”
“I’m glad it did.”
Sora appears in the middle of the group with the London clan, the coven, and our friends. I dip my chin toward her, signaling Nassa to follow my gaze. She does.
“You ready to close this chapter of our story?” I ask, holding out my hand.
Nassa closes her eyes briefly as I try to stay composed. A light wind picks up and swirls around me, bringing with it her lavender scent. It wraps around me, consuming me with obsessive thoughts of her. Naked. In my stone state bed. God, I love this woman.
When her eyes reopen, she slides her palm over mine. Together, we walk over to Sora, who smiles at us. Everyone circles us, casually dressed, as if we’re simply having a rooftop gathering. It’s perfect. It’s Nassa. It’s me.
It’s what we all need—simple and easy.
I meet Asher’s gaze and he dips his chin.
I’m glad the St. Michaels are here to witness this. Of all the roads I assumed we’d take, this long one of pain, difficulty, and bloodshed certainly wasn’t it. Death and betrayal wrapped us in a never-ending storm of darkness.
And yet, here we are.
Together.
Stronger.
We met as boys.
And as men, we have become a family—a clan.
Nassa’s lips twitch as we stand in front of Sora.
The elder gargoyle smiles at us. Her cornflower eyes look us over. Delicate lines run through her face as she tilts her head. “Well, this is certainly an honor I never expected to be part of,” Sora whispers.
In the background Lunette sobs uncontrollably as Branna hands tissues to her. I dip my chin at the elder gargoyle and shake off my erratic emotions.
This is starting to feel a little too much like a ceremony and less like a quick binding. Christ. My eyes slide over to Nassa and I inhale calmly when she winks at me and rolls her eyes.
“If you’re both ready, please expose the soul tie marks,” Sora instructs.
Nassa holds out her wrist and I unbutton my shirt, while Callan whistles inappropriately behind me like I’m a stripper and Abby scolds him. I exhale my nerves.
Sora dips her chin and chants her blessing. When she opens her eyes, Asher hands her a dagger made of hematite. It has a lion carved into it, holding a buttercup in its mouth.
My eyes meet his and he nods. “My gift to you. The tip is made of angel blade.”
Sora takes it, pricking both our fingers, then the marks. We each touch the other’s mark, combining our blood, as she whispers. “To bask in the light of divine love, sometimes we must burn in the fires of darkness. Remember always: love is a seed that grows in both times of light and times of dark. As the years move on, and time shifts, may your love be the constant in both light and dark moments. Blessed by the divine, created in the darkness. The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors and the gargoyle elders have accepted and blessed your binding on this day,” she announces. “Redemption and salvation are about second chances. We are honored to offer you both this binding today.”
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