Even Michael’s usually disinterested ice-blue eyes drifted to Diel then, his tongue licking along teeth that had been cosmetically lengthened and sharpened into fangs.
“Pain …” Diel rasped. The collar buzzed at the quickening of his pulse. “Lots and lots of pain.” His brothers shifted on their feet, their slow breaths turning into heavy pants. “Agonized screams. And blood. Lots of spilled blood dripping from their chests, their throats and their eyes.” Diel’s eyes whipped to Michael’s as the youngest brother lifted his hand and bit down on the flesh of his palm beneath his thumb. Blood spilled into Michael’s mouth, crimson streams running down his chin and onto his bare chest. Michael pulled his hand away from his lips and smothered the blood onto his torso, over the Fallen brand that they all wore with pride.
Electric shocks snapped at the ruined skin underneath Diel’s collar in warning.
“Breathe.” Diel turned toward the sound of Gabriel coming up behind him. “Control it. Steady your breathing.” The monster inside him hissed at Gabriel, the one who held it back. Diel had never been able to control himself, ever. But he closed his eyes and did as Gabriel said. The crackling of the collar decreased to a low, steady hum. Eventually, Diel opened his eyes. Sela stayed beside him until he was steady, then Diel tossed off his shirt, preparing to train. Gabriel’s priest’s uniform had gone and he was dressed in sweatpants, his torso bare but for the Fallen brand that marred his skin.
Gabriel nodded at Diel in reassurance, but Diel’s eyes fell to the small remote in Gabriel’s palm, fixated on it. Gabriel always reduced its power when they trained, took away the pulse-trigger function.
“Let’s go,” Gabriel said to his brothers, and took off running around the perimeter of the huge gym.
Diel cracked his hands and neck and fell into step. He felt the moment Gabriel lowered the charge on the collar. In a flash, the monster inside shifted from its containment and began to seep its darkness into Diel’s bloodstream, his muscles, his damaged soul. The twitch of his head stopped, and the world around him sharpened into focus. He felt the presence of his brothers around him, heard their breaths, smelled the sweat on their skin. He felt the calling of the blades and other practice weapons that hung from the walls.
The monster wanted him to escape, to use this opportunity to run. But it was the one need Diel always fought back. Despite the evil inside him, despite his monster’s ever-growing need to be untethered from the collar and set free to kill whoever and whenever he wanted, these men were Diel’s family. These men were his brothers. They were all he had—that was what kept Diel willing to take the frequent electric shocks. He didn’t know who the hell he was without them. He never planned to find out.
When Gabriel had freed them from Purgatory years ago, when he had brought them home, baptized them “the Fallen,” implemented their rules and purpose, he had also made sure they all knew how to fight. He had brought in experts to teach them. The Fallen had stealth. They could fight. They could exist in darkness and rid the world of people it was better off without. They were as trained as any military unit would ever be. But where others killed to keep people safe, the Fallen killed because, for them, there was simply no other choice.
“Diel,” Gabriel said after an hour of pushing through moves. Diel looked at Gabe. He was drenched in sweat—they all were, but Diel’s blood was still rushing through his veins, adrenaline still coursing through him at a blistering speed.
Gabriel nodded at the rest of the brothers. They all turned to the wall, taking practice weapons in their hands. One by one they surrounded Diel. Diel’s blue eyes locked on each of them in confusion.
Gabriel held up the remote. Diel stopped breathing. “I know you’re finding things hard right now.” Gabriel sighed, and Diel saw what looked like sympathy, and maybe guilt, flash across his face. Diel’s attention snagged on the collar’s remote again. “I know the darkness inside of you is stronger, more persistent than ever before. Since Purgatory …” On cue, the monster prowled inside Diel, waiting for whatever was about to happen with teeth bared.
Gabriel stepped back, and Diel’s gaze fixed once again on his brothers. “We want to help you.” Diel’s head twitched as he took in Bara’s sadistic smile and the chain he held in his hands, Uriel’s tattooed neck cracking and the metal pole in his grip. Raphael’s golden eyes and the rope he repeatedly made into a noose, then unraveled it only to start again. Michael, who wore metal claws, blunted for training, on each of his fingertips. Then Sela, his best friend, holding a wooden katana and nodding encouragingly at Diel.