Page 28 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 27

Sophia

Sophia darted away, tears sliding along her cheeks and into her hair as she ran faster. Azazel had every right to be angry. She was upset with herself. Despite the feeling, she wiped her eyes, clearing her vision.

There was one other place she had to check before she’d accept they were gone. She raced through dark streets, the occasional streetlight flickering overhead. Her feet sunk into soft ground as she left the city, following a well-worn path up the side of a steep hill and stopping at the edge of a sheer cliff.

It was empty.

Something in her chest fractured. They’d been taken, and if the night-being’s plans for them were anything like the others, they didn’t have long.

Why had she been spared? Had they thought her dead?

An image flashed in her mind of a woman with blood-red hair and eyes like liquid gold. The woman touched Sophia’s face and stared into her eyes. Then, nothing. It had felt like magic, but not like any magic she’d experienced before. It was old. Vile.

Sophia reached for her necklace and, remembering it was gone, wrapped a honey-brown strand of hair around her finger instead, staring out over the expansive ocean below. The mighty beast lapping at the edges of her mind craved her attention, but it no longer soothed her .

She fought the urge to wrestle the waves into submission. To tame them. To freeze them. Her heart told her it was wrong. It went against nature to seek to control the elements, but her twisted new gift begged for dominance.

In her need, some of her command of her gift slipped, and she succumbed to it, thrusting her hand to the waves crashing far below. They reached for her, rising higher, frosting at the tips. As they splashed up the side of the cliff, the ends froze before shattering and dissolving back into deep blue.

Ice spiked up her fingers, rushing through her veins up her arm. It raced along veins no longer filled with blood but with the essence she’d drained from Rebecca and Azazel. She pulled her hand back, letting the ice recede, fear choking her lungs.

Her twisted magic had sought a path straight to her heart.