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Rolling to my feet, I drew my twin silver blades—the last weapons I had that might do any damage against a being of such power. I slashed at Azrael's back as he passed, putting all my remaining strength behind the strike.

The blades connected, but it was like trying to cut diamond with butter knives. They skittered across his skin, leaving no mark, the impact jarring my arms painfully.

Azrael turned, his expression almost apologetic, and flicked his wrist in a dismissive gesture. Both blades shattered in my hands, fragments slicing my palms as they exploded outward.

“Pathetic,” he said, not unkindly. “Is this really all you have?”

Cassiel chose that moment to join the fray, his celestial blade gleaming with inner light as he lunged at Azrael from behind. The angel moved with grace despite his injuries, his attack perfectly timed to catch Azrael while his attention was on me.

The blade connected with Azrael's forearm, raised at the last second to block the strike. Sparks flew where celestial metal met Nephilim flesh, and for the first time, Azrael's expression registered surprise.

“An angel with backbone,” he remarked, actually sounding impressed. “How refreshing.”

Then his other hand shot out, closing around Cassiel's throat and lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. “But still just an angel fighting a losing war. How poetic.”

He threw Cassiel aside like a discarded toy. The angel crashed through a low stone wall, debris cascading down around his crumpled form.

By now, Cade had recovered enough to rejoin the fight. The Heavenly Lash uncoiled from his hand, golden energy crackling along its length. He struck with precision born of years of hunting, the lash wrapping around Azrael's ankle.

For a moment, it seemed to work. Azrael looked down, genuine pain registering on his face as celestial fire burned against Nephilim skin. But then his expression hardened, and with a sharp tug, he pulled Cade off balance, dragging him forward across the rough stone.

I took advantage of the distraction, retrieving Cade's fallen silver dagger and lunging for Azrael's back again. This time I aimed for the exact spot where Cassiel's blade had connected, hoping it was a weak point.

The dagger sank in, but only barely, penetrating perhaps half an inch before stopping as if it had hit concrete. Azrael hissed, more in annoyance than pain, and spun around, backhanding me with casual force that sent me flying.

I slammed into a stone column twenty feet away, the impact driving the air from my lungs. Pain exploded across my back and shoulders, bright spots dancing in my vision. I slid to the ground, struggling to breathe, to stay conscious.

Through blurred vision, I saw Cade attacking again, refusing to give up despite the blood streaming from a cut above his eye, despite the way he favored his left leg. The Heavenly Lash struck again and again, each impact connecting but doing less damage than the last, as if Azrael was adapting to it in real time.

“Enough,” Azrael said finally, his patience apparently at an end.

He gestured, and an invisible force slammed into Cade, driving him to his knees. The Lash fell from his grip, its golden light dimming as it hit the stone floor.

I tried to rise, to help, but my body wouldn't respond. Every breath was agony, suggesting broken ribs, maybe internalbleeding. Black edges crept into my vision as I fought to stay conscious.

Azrael walked slowly toward Cade, who struggled against the invisible pressure holding him down. “I wasn't going to kill you yet,” he said, almost sadly. “But you had to make things difficult.”

Azrael raised a hand, celestial energy coiling around his palm like living flame, preparing to end Cade where he knelt. The air hummed with power, the hairs on my arms standing on end from the sheer energy building around us.

“Wait,” I managed to rasp, forcing myself to my hands and knees despite the pain lancing through my chest with each breath. “It's me you want. Let him go.”

Azrael paused, his golden eyes finding mine across the ruined temple. “Noble,” he said, echoing his earlier mockery of Cassiel. “But unnecessary. I'll have both of you, one way or another.”

I crawled forward, each movement agony, blood dripping from a dozen cuts to spatter on the ancient stone. “You said... you wanted me to join you,” I gasped. “Can't do that if I'm dead.”

It was a desperate ploy, but it bought me time to get closer, to position myself between Azrael and Cade, who was still struggling against the invisible force pinning him.

“Sean, don't,” Cade warned, his voice strained. “Whatever you're thinking?—”

“Shut up,” I muttered. Then, louder, to Azrael: “Let's talk. Just you and me.”

Azrael tilted his head, considering me with those ancient eyes. The energy around his hand didn't diminish, but he didn't strike either. “Talk? About what?”

“About what you really want,” I said, finally reaching Cade. I positioned myself in front of him, a human shield that would dolittle good against the kind of power Azrael commanded, but it was all I had left. “About why you need me specifically.”

“I don't need you,” Azrael corrected. “I'm merely offering you a choice before I reshape this world. Join me willingly, or be swept aside with the rest of the refuse.”

“Bullshit,” I said, finding strength in anger when fear had nearly paralyzed me. “If that were true, you'd have killed us already. You want something.”