“What is this?” Zayne demanded. “What is happening?”
The blurred face of Lucifer appeared above one of Zayne’s wings. His head tilted and then he whipped around, disappearing out of sight.
And my...my head felt too heavy. It fell back, and I was staring beyond Zayne and the tips of his beautiful wings, to the snow that continued to fall. A numbness settled into me. A bone-deep knowing.
“What are you doing?” Zayne yelled at him as he turned me slightly to the side. “Lucifer!”
“I’m looking for—found them.” There was a pause. “Damn.”
“Damn? Damn what?” Panic crept into Zayne’s voice.
Lucifer’s voice was closer. “Were you stabbed with this? With one of these angel blades?” he demanded.
A faint golden glow reflected from the spike he held in his hand. “Teller had it,” I forced out. “And Gabriel...he only punched me.”
“That Warden must’ve given one to Gabriel, or he always had one,” Lucifer said. “He didn’t punch you. He nicked you with one of these.”
“That...” Zayne trailed off, and then his wings flared out. “No. No.” He twisted toward me, the arm around me tightening. “Trin. You’re going to be fine.”
“What happened?” Layla gasped.
“She’s fine. I’m going to make sure of it,” Zayne said. “You’re okay. I just need to find—”
“There’s nothing to be found,” Lucifer cut him off. “There’s nothing to be done.”
“There has to be,” snapped Roth, and I was glad to hear that the stupid demon prince and Layla were okay.
“It’s an angel blade,” Lucifer argued. “It’s—”
“Don’t say it,” Zayne growled. “Don’t you fucking say it.”
Lucifer fell silent, but he didn’t need to say what I already knew, what I felt in the sluggish beats of my heart. What had Roth said? Angel blades were deadly. They could kill anything, including another angel.
Including a Trueborn.
We knew this.
“You’re going to be okay.” Zayne cupped my cheek. I was aware of his hand there, but I couldn’t feel it. “You have to be. Okay? I just need you to hang in there. For me. Do you hear me, Trin? I just need you to hold out and I’ll figure out a way.”
You’re already dead.
That’s what Gabriel had said after he punched me. Except it hadn’t been a punch. He’d known. He’d known then he was going to lose, and he...
And he took me out with him.
That bastard.
I’d been willing to die to stop him. That’s what I planned before the angels arrived, but now, after winning? I wasn’t ready.
But I knew it was too late. Everything in me felt like it was...like it was giving up, shutting down and closing up shop.
I was dying, and I’d always thought dying would be painful, but this was...it was like falling asleep. My eyes fluttered.
“No!” Zayne shook me, startling me. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t go to sleep. Look at me. Trinity, please. Look at me. Keep your eyes open. Trin, look at me.”
I looked at him. I blinked until his features came into painful focus, and I soaked in every line of his face, every plane and angle. Would I see him again? Panic exploded like a buckshot, but it was too late. “I... I love you.” I forced the words out, each one a labor. “I love you.”
“I know. I know you do, Trin, and you know that I love you. I’m going to spend eternity telling you that. You’ll get tired of hearing it.” His voice cracked. “I promise you that. You’re not going to leave me. I refuse to let that happen.”
But I was, and I couldn’t feel his arms around me. A heartbeat later, I couldn’t see him. Panic gave way to terror. “Where are you?”
“I’m right here, Trin. I got you. I’m right here. I have you.”
He did. He had me. I wasn’t alone. Some of the fear eased off. “Don’t let...go of me.”
“Never,” he swore.
“Please.”
“Always.” He sounded so very far away.
I felt my chest rise, but there was no air. There was no sound. There was no light.
There was just nothing.
And I fell into it.
Gone.
34
“Trinnie, wake up.”
I turned my head from the voice, wanting to return to the dream. Or at least I thought I was dreaming, because I’d been in Zayne’s arms and he’d been so warm as he held me close to him. And that had to be a dream, because we’d been fighting Gabriel. Lucifer had killed him, and God... God had done something glorious, and I...
“Trinnie,” came the voice again. One I realized I recognized. “I’m staring at you. Watching you.”
Peanut.
What did I tell him about watching me while I slept?
But that didn’t make sense. Peanut hadn’t been there, and I couldn’t be asleep. Not technically. Maybe figuratively. Semantics didn’t really matter right now.
I died.
I freaking died.
Anger pounded through my body. That bastard, psychotic archangel had actually managed to kill me. I was dead and Zayne was alive—oh my God, Zayne. Pressure clamped down on my chest, strangling me. He’d been there, holding me so I wasn’t alone, and now he was there and I was...well, I was wherever I was. I was dead.