Cassandra

Why is Azazel stalling?

The answer comes in a sickening rush as Azazel's gaze snaps to Sarah, cowering in the corner. His smile is a razor slash, cruel and cutting.

"As much as I've enjoyed our little tête-à-tête," he says, voice dripping with false regret, "I'm afraid I have a prior engagement. Toodeloo!"

He winks, a parody of camaraderie. Then, faster than my eye can track, he's across the room. One pale hand wraps around Sarah's throat, hauling her up.

"Let her go!" I yell. "She's innocent in all this."

"Oh, I don't think so." Azazel's voice is a silken purr, his breath ruffling Sarah's hair as she whimpers and struggles in his grip. "She was more than happy to drip venom in my ear. Tell me every hateful thought she had about you. Oh, I know so much about you now, Cassandra. All thanks to my girlfriend here."

"Please," I whisper. "Don't hurt her. Just let her go."

Azazel tilts his head, considering. For a moment, I think he might relent. Might show a sliver of mercy, a spark of humanity.

But then his lips curl in a malevolent smile. "No."

And with a brutal twist of his wrist, he snaps Sarah's neck.

The crack echoes through the cafe, louder than a gunshot. Sarah's body crumples to the floor, eyes wide and staring.

I scream. Or maybe Luce does. I'm not sure.

Holy light explodes from Luce, searing and blinding, and Azazel is thrown back, crashing through tables and chairs.

For a moment, he lies still, limbs askew and chest unmoving. But then, with a sickening snap, he sits up. Rolling his neck, he climbs to his feet, brushing off his suit with a steady hand.

"Well, that was dramatic," he says, voice dry. "Really, Lucifer, you need to learn to control that temper of yours."

Luce is shaking, fists clenched and eyes burning with rage. I've never seen him like this, so full of power. Like he's about to combust.

"You bastard," he rasps. "You fucking bastard."

With a mocking bow, Azazel smiles. "Guilty as charged. But then, it takes one to know one. Right, old friend?"

He meets my gaze with a sly sideways glance. "Think about that, Cassandra, my dear. Think long and hard about the company you keep and the bed you've chosen to lie in. It's not too late to save yourself."

And with a final, mocking salute, he's gone. Leaving only a shattered life and broken body in his wake.

Luce collapses to his knees beside Sarah's still form, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Sarah was my office nemesis and tormentor, but she didn't deserve this. No one deserves this.

"Another life on my conscience." He sounds so utterly dejected it breaks my heart. "Will Azazel destroy everything I touch?"

"No." My throat is tight, but despite everything, there's an unyielding conviction at my core. "We won't let him."

I move towards him, bridging the distance between us one step at a time. He doesn't acknowledge my approach but doesn't pull away when I kneel beside him. Sarah's lifeless body lies before us, and he passes a trembling hand over her face, closing her eyes. The awful blankness fades, replaced by an expression of peace. As if she were merely sleeping, dreaming of happier times.

Turning to me, Luce observes me with the dull resignation of defeat. "You should get as far away from me as you possibly can. Save yourself."

"I think we both know I can't escape Azazel, even if I were to travel halfway around the world." Putting my hand on his arm, I squeeze. He feels so far away. Trapped in his misery. His limitless guilt. "Remember, he wanted me and my sisters long before we met you."

Something flashes in his eyes, and he stands, helping me to my feet. There's a new determination in his movements.

I glance down. "What do we do with...her?"

"We will have to leave her for now. This building appears to be abandoned. I will have someone come by later and move her somewhere else. Make it look like she fell. A tragic, random accident."

It's unfair. She deserves better, but I know he's right. We can't risk exposure. The world must keep turning, blissfully unaware of the monsters lurking in the shadows.

We stagger out into the chilly evening, leaning on each other for support. The dagger is still clutched in my white-knuckled grip, the holy fire extinguished. I feel hollowed out, scraped raw. As if Azazel's poisonous words have found their mark, burrowing deep, hitting all the insecurities I've tried to ignore.

'Why would an immortal being, a fallen angel, lower himself to dally with a mere human? What could you possibly offer him, besides the Seraphim blood pumping through your veins?'

The taunt hit closer to home than I'd like to admit. What can I offer him? Nothing. I really am nothing but a battery like Azazel said. The thought brings a bitter taste to my mouth.

My phone rings and I jump, heart leaping into my throat. With numb, clumsy fingers, I fumble to answer, praying for some good news for once. But the voice on the other end isn't a respite.

"Cass?" It's Meg, words garbled by great, heaving sobs. "Cass...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Icy tendrils of fear inch down my spine to settle in my gut. "What is it, Meg? What's wrong?"

"I...I went out. I thought I saw h—him." Her voice breaks with another sob.

"Who?" My voice is sharper than intended, and I force myself to calm down despite my racing heart. "Who, Meg? Raze? You saw Raze?"

"I—I thought so," she hiccoughs. "But when I got outside, he wasn't there. I looked for him, but I couldn't find him..."

"It's okay," I say, keeping my voice low and soothing. "No harm done. Just get back inside. Stay safe."

"No, you don't understand!" Meg wails on the other end. "Aura...she followed. She's gone, Cass. They took her!"

The ground crumbles beneath my feet and the world spirals into darkness. I meet Luce's haunted gaze over the phone, a terrible understanding passing between us. Azazel's obvious stalling during the fight.

"He has Aura." I draw a trembling breath. "We have to get back."

The drive to the Morningstar Enterprises building is tense as we pass through neon lights and inky shadows. Luce's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles twitch under the skin. We don't speak. My stomach twists, and every beat of my heart counts down to some terrible unknown.

Is she scared?

Is she hurt?

Azazel is so unpredictable, it's impossible to know what he plans to do with her. And it's my fault. This wouldn't have happened if I had seen through his ploy. I should have known something was up when Sarah first messaged me. Should have...

I shake my head as guilt, thick and choking, threatens to overwhelm me. It doesn't matter. What's done is done.

Now I need to save her.

The car screeches to a halt in the underground garage and we're out in a flash, racing for the lifts. When we reach the penthouse, Meg is pacing like a caged tiger in the living room, her face blotchy and eyes red from crying. The other Forsaken are scattered about, grim-faced and tense.

"Cass!" Meg flings herself into my arms the moment she sees me, her slight frame wracked with sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault!"

"Shh, no. No, it's not." I stroke her hair, trying to pour every ounce of comfort and reassurance into the embrace. But the words feel hollow because I don't know how to fix this.

Luce strides past us, a barely leashed storm in a tailored suit. "What happened?" he demands, his voice cracking like a whip. "How did they get to her?"

"It's my fault." Meg pulls back, wiping her cheeks with the sleeves of her jumper. "If I hadn't gone outside...she wouldn't have followed me, and..."

A choked sob cuts her off and I feel my own eyes burn with useless tears. Damn it, Aura.

"That's it," Luce snaps. "From now on, none of you leave this building without an escort. For any reason. Understood?"

Part of me bristles at the command, the casual assumption of authority. Who is he to dictate our movements, our choices? But the practical side, the part that's sick with worry and half-mad with helplessness, knows he's right. We can't risk any more mistakes, any more losses.

Didn't I prove that myself, earlier tonight? Going out alone and ending up with Azazel.

I meet Luce's gaze over Meg's head, and a silent acknowledgement passes between us. "Understood. We'll do whatever it takes to stay safe. But for now, we need to find Aura."

He nods, but the shadows in his eyes remain, dark and haunted. "Absolutely."

"How?" Mal steps forward, her brow creased with concern. "Azazel could have taken her anywhere. The city is a maze of hiding places for someone like him."

"Can't you scry for her or something?" Dare asks. "You're the seer here."

I know he doesn't mean it as an insult, but sarcasm drips off every syllable. Fear makes us cruel, and we lash out just to feel something other than helplessness.

"It doesn't work like that," Mal snaps. "My visions don't come on command. And I need a focus, a trigger..."

The words ignite a spark of memory, and I straighten, hope flaring in my chest. "Meg!" I grab my sister's shoulders, forcing her to meet my gaze through her tears. "The tracker app. The one you used to find me. Did you put it on Aura's phone, too?"

Her eyes widen, comprehension dawning. "I...yes. Yes, I did." She fumbles for her phone, fingers shaking as she swipes and taps. "I put it on both of your phones. It always made me feel a little more secure when you'd go somewhere without me..."

We all hold our breath, not daring to move, to hope. Please, let this work.

"There!" Meg holds her phone up, the screen a wash of neon lines and pulsing dots. "She's there. Over in Hackney."

Relief crashes through me like a wave, so intense it makes my knees weak. We know where she is. Or at least her phone. It's a start. A chance. She might still be alive.

Luce is already moving, barking orders. "Ben, Mal, stay here with Meg. Dare, Cass, you're with me." He meets my gaze. "Ready?"

"Always." I ignore the tremor in my voice. I'll face the devil himself to save my sister. To keep what little family I have left safe.

***

The warehouse where Aura's phone last pinged her location looms before us, a hulking behemoth of red brick and broken glass panes. Ineligible graffiti adorns the walls as it has become the canvas of local thugs since being abandoned.

Luce motions for me and Dare to stay close as we approach, his movements tight and controlled. I can practically feel the power thrumming beneath his skin. Nudging the door open, we carefully step inside. The inside is bathed in shadow, with weak shafts of moonlight and city lights filtering through the tall windows. It's barely enough to see by, but it's enough.

Enough to make out the slender figure tied to a chair on the dust-covered floor, head lolling and limbs limp.

"Aura!" Her name tears from my throat and I lurch forward, heedless of the danger, desperate to reach her.

Luce's hand clamps down on my arm, holding me back. "Wait," he hisses. "It could be a trap."

"Not quite." The voice slithers out of the darkness, oily and amused. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you arrive so soon, though. You are so predictable."

Azazel steps into the light, his handsome face twisted into a bland smile. Somehow, he looks different here in this dank and decrepit place. Older, crueller.

Before I can do anything, Luce pushes me behind him, shielding me with his body. His chivalry isn't appreciated and I unsheathe the dagger behind my back, ready to rush forward if needed.

"Let her go." I glare at the malevolent angel before us.

"Oh, but I can't do that. Not yet." Azazel circles Aura's listless form, trailing a finger down her ashen cheek.

I have to swallow back a surge of bile, my hand tightening on the hilt of my dagger at the sight of him touching her so easily. Almost tenderly, like a lover. It's sickening. I want nothing more than to lunge across the room and bury the dagger in his chest, but I hold back, all too aware of how quickly and easily he killed Sarah earlier.

"Such power," he muses. "Such potential. And yet, even she could not withstand my voracious appetite." His lip curls, disgust plain on his chiselled features. "Seraphim blood, and she's still not enough for me. At least she's still alive, which is more than I can say for the others..."

Rage flares hotly, and I move forward, but Luce's arm bars my path.

"Don't," he warns, his voice low and taut as a bowstring. "He's goading you."

"Yes, do mind your pet, Lucifer." Azazel smirks. "We wouldn't want her to get hurt now, would we?" His gaze rakes over me, cold and calculating. "Though I must say, I'm surprised she's still standing. By all rights, you should have drained her by now."

His eyes narrow, a keen predatory interest in their icy depths. "Why is that, I wonder? What makes her so special?"

I glance at Luce. He's stiff and alert, ready to strike if Azazel makes a wrong move. Are our skimming sessions so different compared to others? I've noticed I don't react to anyone else the same way I do Luce, but what could it mean? Is there more to it than simply my Seraphim blood? Azazel seems to think so.

My heart stutters, a sick dread uncurling in my gut. Aura looks deathly pale where she sits bound to the chair. Has Azazel already taken too much? If her Seraphim blood won't help her, will she end up like the women in that hospital?

Azazel's fingers flutter over Aura's cheek again, and I feel Luce shift next to me. "Such a disappointment. I expected more from a Seraphim descendant."

"Enough, Azazel," Luce growls. "Release her and let us settle this once and for all."

For a long, taut moment, Azazel simply stares at him. Weighing, considering. Then, to my shock, he steps back. A cold, calculating smile touches his lips.

"Settle this?" he says softly. "No, I don't think I will. Not yet. It's not time. We have too much to do still."

And then he's gone. I hate how he seems to do that. Slip away without notice even if you're staring at him.

I rush over to Aura and quickly use my dagger to cut through the ropes binding her. She slumps forward when the bonds fall, and I catch her, noting her cool skin and the faint pulse. It's only a feeble flutter beneath my fingers.

"Aura! No, no, no. Come on, Aura. Wake up. Please wake up."

But she's still and silent, a broken doll in my arms. Tears blur my vision, hot and stinging.

This can't be happening.

I can't lose her.