Page 38 of Princess of Bael

Johanna.

Morax.

Valisa.

Ashmedai.

A Nephilim of unknown origin.

They all trickled in, forming a circle of sorts around the crime scene. Only two of them outwardly reacted.Lucía and Johanna.

Their ashen features told me they’d already sensed Kristina’s passing before arriving, but seeing their fallen member on the ground sent them both to their knees on a wave of sadness I felt all the way to my soul.

I didn’t step toward them. I didn’t try to comfort them. I wasn’t worthy because I’d already failed them all. And that was the worst punishment of it all—I no longer had faith in myself to keep the others safe.

From the gleams in the eyes of my fellow angels, neither did they. Azrael, Mietek, Dariel, Scion, Valisa, and Zerak all wore matching expressions of disappointment.

Valisa’s was the most severe. As Kristina’s mother, I more than deserved that look. It didn’t matter that the two of them had rarely conversed; she’d still created her.

Archdemon Morax, Kristina’s father, didn’t seem all that bothered. However, he’d merely been the sperm donor in the situation. Kristina might have shared his blood, but she’d held no claims to his heart and vice versa. All he’d really done was give her red hair and contribute to her veil-related abilities.

Valisa, Archangel of Stars, had given Kristina everything else, including her kind blue eyes and willowy frame. She’d also contributed to the veil magic, but in a different way from Morax. He was the darkness, while Valisa represented the light, thus creating the perfect balance in Kristina.

“Well. That’s a problem,” Alastor muttered.

Lucía glared up at him. “As if you care. You and that Halfling are the reason this even happened. Had she not been trying to capture one of us for you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Alastor’s eyebrows drew upward. “I didn’t give her that device, sweetheart.”

“No. I did,” Ashmedai admitted, his ash-blond hair glimmering in the night as his violet eyes went to Kayla and then to me. “I knew it would cause a disturbance. I did not anticipate Archangel Ezra being incapable of handling such a situation.”

“You underestimated how weak his bond has made him,” Mietek interjected, his irritation palpable. “You and your fucking games, Ashmedai.”

“As though you and your brethren are ones to talk,” Ashmedai drawled, his irises flicking to the silent Archangel with midnight hair and even darker eyes. “Isn’t that right, Scion?”

Rather than reply, Scion merely glanced at the unnamed Nephilim and back at Ashmedai, a murderous glimmer shining in the ebony depths of his gaze. That wasn’t all that abnormal, considering he was the Archangel of War. But his expression struck me as protective, or maybe even possessive.

Who is she?I wondered, studying the brunette female. She appeared just as angry, her arms folded tightly as she stood beside Ashmedai in a leather jacket and matching pants. Her high ponytail and hardened jaw suggested a confidence that reminded me a bit of Kayla.

Or what Kayla had looked like prior to arriving at Kristina’s murder scene, anyway. Now she just stood off to the side, her gaze on the ground, her shoulders slumped.

I almost moved to stand beside her, not necessarily to offer her comfort but to demonstrate that we were in this hell together. However, the others were already speaking, drawing the conversation back to a blame game of epic proportions where my skills and sanity were questioned and my inability to uphold the balance was flat-out detailed.

Which made my placement in this situation quite evident indeed.

I listened because it wasn’t my place to speak.

I’d fucked up.

I owned that.

And from the chagrined line in Kayla’s features, I sensed she felt the same. She flinched each time one of them mentioned our forbidden mating and how it had degraded my worth as an Archangel.

“He should have been replaced,” Dariel said. “Or the girl should have been destroyed.”

Bael bristled, his blue eyes resembling ice. “That’s my daughter you’re talking about.”

“A Halfling,” Dariel spat back at him. “Hardly something to be proud of.”