Page 21 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 20

Azazel

Azazel made another pass over the Aeolian islands, dipping low over Bottaro. He’d been certain she would choose this one; it was uninhabited and close enough to the others that her creatures could leave to feed.

It was quiet and still. Nothing moved. If the reashes had been wrong, she could be anywhere by now and had gained a whole night’s advantage.

The ember at the center of his chest—his half of their soul—flared to life. She was using her magic. A selfish part of him wanted to tell Rebecca about the bond, to ask her to merge their soul and give her full access to that gift, but she loved Simon. She didn’t want to be bonded to him.

He passed over Grotto Dell ’Amore and paused when something flashed in his peripheral vision. He circled the island, returning to the wide cave mouth and hovering at its entrance. There, a boat, hidden from above, was nestled under an outcropping of boulders.

He ducked into the cave, searching the boat, but saw no signs of life. The cave dipped, making it impossible for him to fly. As he landed on the deck, he was assaulted by the smell. Death. Decay.

He stepped through a closed door and wrinkled his nose. Bodies were piled atop one another, dumped carelessly over chairs, couches, and tables. Their lifeless eyes stared at nothing as flies buzzed over their decaying corpses .

If the necromancer wasn’t growing her army anymore, why kill them? He thought back to Dina’s words: humans were unable to cross to Alaxia.

He moved, standing over the nearest pile of mangled, twisted limbs, and sniffed. They smelled of magic—death magic.

The ember in his chest flared again, this time in fear. He shot from the boat into the sky and raced for his other half, his light. Had they found her? Captured her? Panic seized him at the thought of losing her to Sheol again.

Azazel landed hard, cracking stone underfoot as he materialized in front of a nasdaqu-ush he recognized as Sophia. This would be a blow for Rebecca.

He stalked toward the creature.

“Azazel, don’t.”

Sophia made no move to fight him or escape as he wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed.

Rebecca ran to him, digging her nails into his biceps. “Don’t kill her. She’s my friend!”

He loosened his grip on the nasdaqu-ush.

Large yellow eyes blinked up at him. “I’m trying to warn her,” she croaked.

He released her, and she stumbled back, grasping at her throat.

“She knows where Elizabeth is. Or was,” Rebecca said.

Azazel glanced at Rebecca. “Tell me.”

“I will tell you everything, but we have to get out of here before she finds us,” Sophia said, her voice scratchy.

“Very well. Keep up.” He leaned down, scooping Rebecca into his arms, and darted into the air. Dark wings flapped as he took them higher, but his whole focus centered on the panicked thoughts racing through Rebecca’s mind.

Her heart pounded, her breath coming shallow and rapid. She was on the verge of another panic attack. Her thoughts cycled around one message: Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her.

They landed atop the Santuario di Santa Maria dell’Isola, and he set her down gently. It was high enough that he would spot anyone approaching with plenty of time to end them .

Wrapping his fingers around Rebecca’s shoulders, he turned her to face him. “I won’t kill her unless she tries to harm you.”

The chanting in her mind stopped, and she looked up. Believe him? Trust him? He doesn’t lie.

The rush of air behind him told him Sophia had arrived. “Make a move toward her, and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Sophia laughed. The sound bubbled over cracked lips, and it was clear she hadn’t fed. It made her dangerous and unpredictable.

Azazel moved to block her.

She held up her hands. “If I were going to kill her, I would have done it before you came back.”

Truth.

He stepped aside, and Rebecca, pale-faced and somber, moved past him, crushing Sophia in her arms.

He balanced on the balls of his feet, watching the creature.

Rebecca leaned back, releasing her friend. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. Did she turn all of you? What about Rhea?”

Sophia’s yellow eyes squinted in a wince. “Rebecca, I don’t know how to tell you…”

Rebecca stifled a sob, pressing her hand to her mouth. “No. She can’t be. Did she turn her? Is she like you? Elizabeth said she would turn her.” She released Sophia, wrapping her arms around herself. Azazel moved to stand behind her, and she leaned into him.

His arms flexed at his sides. The urge to wrap her in them, carry her away from the pain and death that would only continue, was a stubborn ache in his chest. But Rebecca didn’t want comfort from him, didn’t need his strength. She had a strength of her own.

“I’m sorry, Rebecca. She died on Grace Island.”

The dead humans meant nothing to him. In an eternity among them, it was as normal to watch them take their last breath as their first. But as Rebecca pressed her warmth into his hip, he understood it meant something to her, and a deep ache settled in his soul .

Rebecca’s shoulders shook, and he sensed more than heard the spinning thoughts that would send her into another spiral of shock.

“Are there any who live?”

His gaze moved between Sophia and Rebecca, and the creature seemed to understand what he was asking.

“My mother, Helena, Thalia, and several others were alive the last time I saw them. Trapped. They need our help.”

Rebecca wiped the back of her sleeve against her face. “You’re right. We have to save them.”

Sophia touched her fingers to her bruised neck. “If we go straight to them, we’ll be walking into a death trap. I have a plan, though.” She reached for Rebecca’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Elizabeth is different in Sheol. There’s a woman with her. Sanura.”

Rebecca’s gaze shot to his. Sanura. The first necromancer? The one Ada trapped in Sheol? Not me. A lie. I’m not Ada. Her question and the thoughts that followed tumbled over one another in his mind.

Sophia continued, unaware of Rebecca’s silent questions to Azazel. “Elizabeth isn’t the same evil creature there. She’s different, and there’s something about the other woman. When I met her, it was as if I already knew her.”

Azazel crossed his arms over his chest. “Impossible.”

Sophia’s gaze darted to the wispy wings at his back before she returned her focus to Rebecca. “I think if I can keep them apart in Sheol, Elizabeth will stop harming our sisters here.”

Azazel’s wings twitched. “Sanura is Nephilim. Her magic works in Sheol. Yours doesn’t.” Rebecca pushed off his hip and turned to face him. “You would have better odds convincing Elizabeth to move on to her final rest.”

Rebecca searched his face. “If a Nephilim’s magic works in Sheol, then—”

“No.”

He grabbed Rebecca’s hand, pulled her close, and wrapped an arm around her. It soothed some of the terror shooting through him. “You would have to die to go there.”

“But if I’m the only one who can… ”

“No.”

Rebecca struggled in his hold, and he reluctantly released her.

She backed up, putting space between them. “I’m dying anyway. Maybe this is what the prophecy really meant. Maybe it was never about me fighting in some battle on Earth but about one in Sheol.”

“Your visions are not a prophecy,” Azazel said. “They are glimpses of the apocalypse.”