As the first wave of Powers surged through the forcefield, Ethan sent bolts of energy at them so strong that not only did the power of his assault stop them in their tracks, it literally blinked those first warrior angels out of existence. They were there - faces contorted with pain, mouths wide open with screams that would never be heard – and then they were simply gone.

The Powers that did make it were already crawling over the ceiling, down the shelves, hovering in the air as they swerved each thunderous bolt. Like the Cherubim, there was something vaguely human-like in their appearance. Despite the slavering grins, the scarred flesh that stretched over their angular cheekbones, the hands that ended in savage talons and the angel wings that beat at the air, I could see a similarity with the race they were so desperate to rule and control. They were like human hybrids, a breed cooked up in a nightmarish laboratory, an experiment to make war machines that had gone horribly wrong or horribly right, depending on which way you looked at it. Because they were war machines. Creatures engineered to fight and enslave, their bodies were perfectly honed, all sleek sinewy muscle that looked as if it had been carved from marble.

Ethan stood in the central aisle, an immovable force, his feet slightly apart and braced against the floor. He hit them with a power I had never seen before, far greater than when he'd fought against the Angel outside Oscar's club. Far greater even than when he'd fought Juliette and that battle had been enough to almost tear the house down around our heads.

A grit and dogged determination cast a shadow across his features, combined with something else, something that, ironically in comparison to the Powers, looked less human. A darkness. Something almost monstrous. Again, and again he struck, but still the creatures came swarming through the tear in the shield, which was widening by the second. Ethan's forcefield was slowly dissolving.

Gritting his teeth, Ethan seemed to double his efforts as his gaze darted here and there, not missing the slightest advance of the Powers as they swarmed worryingly closer to our position. Sweeping his arms in a wide arc, a stream of energy pulsed from his palms, hitting the top level of the towering stacks lining the aisles and they shuddered violently. Objects stored there began to fall one by one, an avalanche of centuries-old secrets crashing to the floor. Whole shelves began to topple, dislodging everything and as the first one fell, hitting the next and the next, the Angels who had been using the huge bookcases to gain an advance on us, were crushed in the landslide of dusty tomes, wooden chests and skull-bones.

A high-pitched, gut-wrenching screech pierced my ears.

Standing just inside the door to his hoarder's lair, the Erelim was shrieking, as his many eyes surveyed the chaos of the Vaults. He looked bigger than he had before. Gone was the frail-looking old man, now his bulk filled the doorway in which he stood, his head touching the top of the frame, as if he'd just consumed the Eat Me cake from Alice's crazy world. Glaring at Ethan, he opened his mouth wide and screamed, and on his tongue, another eye appeared, a bloodshot eyeball protruding from the saliva-drenched pink flesh.

It was staring straight at me.

With a cry, I scrambled back towards Ethan, my limbs choosing that exact moment to turn to jelly.

'You!' the Erelim boomed at Ethan. 'Thief! Traitor! Hell-Hell-Hell-Hell.'

Snarling, Ethan pushed at the air with an insurmountable force and the Erelim, as huge as he had now become, was pushed backwards, sent flying right off his feet. With another twist of his hand, Ethan pulled and the walls of collected jumble just inside the room collapsed with an almighty crash, piles of debris sealing the Erelim into his junkyard-tomb. I could still hear him screaming from beyond the barrier and wondered how long the mountain of hoarded scrap would keep his boiling rage imprisoned. By the incandescent roar emanating from within, I couldn't imagine we had much time before he broke free.

Behind Ethan, I now climbed unsteadily to my feet, as the air seemed to explode just in front of where we stood, the vibrations cascading outwards and almost making me fall again. The Powers had started to reign down blow after blow upon us, while Ethan defended each attack, using their own force against them as he moved his outstretched palms in a circular motion, catching their energy in the maelstrom he was creating and sending it thundering right back at them.

One Power, all gladiator-muscle and with wings that emanated a golden hue that would have been captivating if it wasn't for its hideous face, careened through the air, pin-wheeling and dodging every pulse of energy and, as it drew closer, its grin widened, a triumphant screech whistling from between its clenched needle-sharp teeth. Clawed hands reached for flesh it wished to tear apart, its eyes blazing a victorious glee at the prospect of claiming its prize.

This is it, this is it, I thought, it's too close now. This is it.

I braced myself for the impact, unable to tear my terrified gaze away from the oncoming storm.

Almost upon us, the look in the creature's eyes changed in an instant. The jubilant smugness morphed into a terror-saturated realisation that had come too late for it. It bucked in the air and tried to alter its flight-path, its horrified stare fixed on Ethan.

Standing behind Ethan, I had no idea what the creature could see that I couldn't, but whatever it was, the Power tried frantically to turn at the last minute, its great wings too bulky and at too close a range to achieve much but overwhelm it and slow it down. Curling his fingers into claws, Ethan made a twisting motion with his hands and pushed hard. The Power's body was bent backwards at an impossible angle, and from where I stood I heard the distinct crack of bone, and blood sprayed from its torn flesh as jagged splinters of rib cage burst free from its chest.

It screamed like nothing I had heard before, its agony filling the vaults with a noise so heinous that the other Powers wailed and clapped their own clawed hands over their ears. And as the Power screamed so did the others, all now halted in their tracks, the pain of their brother etched on their faces as if they felt the very same pain themselves.

Ethan twisted again. Another crack of bone. Another scream. Its wings were yanked backwards, the tips disappearing before my eyes – not dissolving – but simply disappearing into a void, feather by feather, inch by inch. It was sickening to behold, but I couldn't tear my eyes away, my morbid curiosity turning me into a twisted spectator, watching the gladiator die a horrific death as Caesar cast his thumbs to the ground.

Ethan grabbed at my hand and I flinched. There was a second, just one second as I dragged my eyes from the scene in front of me, when I wondered what else I would turn to face now. Would I see what the Power had seen? Would I see a monster? My mind echoed with memories of the Cherubim's final judgment, of Leon bleeding profusely from his ears and nose, of Davey with his chest torn open.

'Casey, snap out of it, we have to go.'

I exhaled a deep, relieved breath. It was him. Just him. Just Ethan. Same eyes. Same face, albeit with sweat glistening on his forehead and with the blood trickling from the gash on his temple, now reaching half-way down his cheek.

I grasped his hand.

We began to run again, the sound of our footsteps drowned out by the screams of the Powers as they wailed in unison behind us.

'There!' Ethan shouted, pointing towards a wrought-iron spiral staircase at the end of one of the aisles, which lead up to the second level.

Hurtling towards it, I was already on the bottom step, with Ethan pressing his hands into the small of my back as he urged me upwards, when my attention was drawn to movement in the shadows further down in the Vaults.

The darkness shifted, split apart and where there had been one moving force, then was now six separate entities, approaching us with pace. The shadows moved into the light and I saw, with a deep horror, that they weren't shadows at all, but six identical Erelim marching in our direction, three leading, two in the middle and one at the back.

These were the others that Ethan had mentioned before.

'Oh fuck,' I gasped, stopping a few steps up. 'Six more Alberts.'

Ethan, who was still close behind me made a strangled, choking noise. 'Albert? Are you bloody kidding me?'

The Erelim had almost reached the end of the aisle, their heads titled in the same direction, their many, awful, terrifying eyes fixed upon us.

'Go, go, go,' Ethan hissed, leaning over the railing and firing off shots of raw energy at the advancing Erelim. One went down instantly, its body writhing and shaking violently on the floor, but the others were unscathed, their robotic march uninterrupted.

I sped upwards, the iron steps clanging under my feet, the whole staircase juddering as I ascended. At the top, the aisle stretched out ahead of me, disappearing into what seemed like an impossible distance, a strange mist fogging the air. Shelves towered overhead, these ones thankfully not stacked with a Guillermo Del Toro movie prop store full of severed limbs, but instead piled high with scrolls covered in a thick blanket of dust and cobwebs.

The air imploded behind me, almost sucking me backwards and I whirled around, clutching onto the edge of one of the shelves, my hair whipping across my face.

The staircase was now off the floor, twisted sideways, caught in the thick of a tornado, the metal stretching out as if it was rubber, iron rivets popping free of their holes one by one. The Erelim were holding on, their eyeball-covered hands gripping the railing which was now totally bent out of shape and coming apart from the staircase. With one hand, Ethan pulled on the air as it rippled and eddied towards him, and with the other he seemed to be shaping it, turning it, feeding it power, before sending it with a hurricane-level force directly at the spiralling staircase and at the Erelim still desperately clinging on.

'Hold on,' Ethan called out, over the screech of the wind.

'Bit bloody late to tell me now,' I yelled, alarmed at how my feet were slowly sliding across the floor. I tightened my grip on the shelf, my sweat-slick fingers not making it easy to hold on.

Behind where the Erelim were clutching onto the staircase, the air tore apart, opening up a dark void as tall as a London double-decker, that seemed to snap and chomp like a great, toothless mouth. The scrolls began to fly off the shelves, dislodging centuries-old dust and God knows what else that had made its home in the gloomy sanctity of the Vaults – although I noted many wriggling bodies with too many legs and too many eyes - and I watched as it was all sucked into the blackhole, everything starting to disappear into whatever dimension Ethan was sending it.

With ear-splitting screams and howls of rage, the Erelim began to lose their grip, one by one, following the dust and bugs into the void and then, with a screech of metal, the staircase ripped free of its fixings and disappeared after them.

Ethan dropped his hands, and as if now satisfied it had consumed its fill, the mouth of the void closed instantly and any rolls of parchment that hadn't quite made it, fluttered lightly down to the floor below, as the dust floated gently in the now-stagnant air.

I let go of the shelf, raking my hair out of my eyes with fingers still stiff from how hard I had tried to cling on.

'Listen, a hurricane is one thing,' I said, trying to catch my breath which I think the black void had sucked right out of my lungs. 'But whatever you do, please don't make it bloody rain in here next, yeah? I don't fancy going for a swim.'

Edging towards him, I touched Ethan's shoulder, but he wasn't looking my way. Instead his gaze was fixed on a hand, that was gripping the edge of the platform where the staircase had been attached. 

Despite faking the appearance of an elderly man, the Erelim that had been clinging onto the edge, pulled itself up with ease, climbing to its feet and standing quite undamaged by Ethan's previous attack, only now, there was one notable difference.

A notable difference that made me tighten my grip on Ethan's shoulder.

Every single one of the Erelim's eyes had rolled back in its socket, each one a blank white stare that sent shivers up my spine. It made no attempt to move towards us, instead its whole body began to tremble and shake, from its legs right up to its head which was jerking violently from side to side, spittle foaming from its mouth.

The Vault shook then, a rumbling vibration that seemed to come from all sides, an earthquake reverberating through this whole Hellish place.

Taking a cautious step back, Ethan slowly slipped an arm around my waist, grabbing a handful of my jacket and pulling me with him.

'Ethan,' I said, unable to drag my gaze from the creature. 'What's wrong with it? Why is it doing that?'

He took another step and the Erelim's head jerked again, this time directing its blank white stare at Ethan's feet. It looked back up. The eyes were white, but it could see us. Albert had told me. It could see everything.

'There's nothing wrong with it,' Ethan replied in a low voice. 'The Powers failed in their duty. It's calling for help. It's calling the Higher Ranks.'

'Help from what? What's coming?' My fingers were digging into his arm now.

'Dominions, maybe. But this feels...' He glanced around as the Vaults continued to quake and I could see the alarm in his expression. 'Whatever it is, we're not sticking around to find out. Run, Casey!'

Turning, we fled from the juddering Erelim, which shrieked with rage, its cries echoing around the Vaults and melding with the screeches of the Powers that had once again resumed their hunt. I couldn't see them yet, but I could hear them growing ever-closer, the sound of feet pounding the floor, the beating of wings against the air, the scratching of talons on wood. The landing stretched ahead of us as if it would never end. We sprinted along the walkway, until finally we ran into the mist, the strange swirling fog swallowing up the path behind us. I wasn't sure how far we would need to run, but I did know that my breath was clawing at my throat and the kick of adrenalin was the only thing driving my exhausted body onwards.

Ethan pulled on my hand, slowing my pace. 'Here,' he said, coming to a sudden halt and looking upwards at the shelves towering by the side of us.

'Here? Where?' I followed his gaze. Surely, he couldn't mean for us to climb up the shelves?

'The wormhole is up there. I knew it was here somewhere.' He looked pleased with himself, a smugness creeping into his features, despite the fact we had a whole army of very pissed-off Angels on our tail.

'You expect us to climb up there?'

It was high. Really fucking high. I didn't have any particular fear of heights, but I also didn't spend my days hoping I could climb up the tallest bookcase in existence without a safety harness. He had to be kidding about this. Had to be. I stared at him with a hope that died a quick death as soon as I saw the look in his eyes.

'Well, unless you're about to grow a pair of wings and fly us up there, yes, I do expect us to climb and I expect us to do it as fast as we bloody can before a Cherubim swoops in here and rips our hearts from our chests.'

'Cherubim?' My mouth went desert-dry. 'You never said the Erelim had called the Cherubim.'

'I have no idea what's coming, but whatever it is, it's pissed as fuck. So, if you want to get out of here before it makes a star-studded appearance, I suggest you get climbing.'

I turned back to the shelves and grabbed the one at head-height, placing my foot on the first and heaving myself up. My legs were shaking with each step and it wasn't long before the muscles in my arms began to scream with the effort. I glanced back to see Ethan climbing slightly behind me and behind him a long drop down to the walkway. Inhaling dust and panic, I kept on going, doing my best to keep my eyes fixed on the next step up.

We'd come so far now that the mist had thickened all around us, and each shelf was peppered with the tiniest of moisture droplets that were making it harder for my fingers to get a good grip.

'Stop,' Ethan said. 'This is it.'

Climbing up beside me, he pushed at a large wooden chest, sliding it to one side with ease. Multi-legged bugs skittered out of the way, their hiding place revealed, and beyond them, an inert darkness filling the space. Clinging onto the edge with one hand, Ethan reached out with his other, biting down on his lip in concentration as he pulled on the air. The darkness shifted and groaned, seeming to creep steadily closer to him as he made turning gestures with his hand. Turn-pull-turn-pull.

From within the churning mist, noises echoed outwards, scratching, scraping, clicking.

'Ethan!'

'I know, I know,' he said through gritted teeth, his attention fixed solely on opening up the wormhole. This one was taking a frustratingly long time, almost as if the air was resisting his power.

Something was coming. There was a stir in the atmosphere. The mist whirled, inching closer, wisps of foggy air reaching outwards like grabbing fingers intent on pulling us into its grasp and then it did reach out, a hand bursting free from the dust-laden cloud.

A hand with an eyeball protruding from the pale, thin flesh.

The Erelim crawled along the side of the shelves with an ease and haste that made my stomach recoil with repulsion and fear. Its many eyes were wildly glaring at us, glee glinting on the glassy surface and its eye-ball tongue was lolling out, the long eyelashes fluttering frantically and looking horribly like there was a spider wriggling inside its mouth.

Ethan twisted to aim a shot, but it was too late. The Erelim had already reached him and grabbed hold of Ethan's ankle, yanking hard and causing him to lose his footing. His grip was weakened, and he slipped down a couple of shelves, managing to catch hold and stop his fall with one hand, knuckle bone straining against his skin. His body slammed hard against the shelves, but before he could raise a hand to the Erelim, with a shriek of delight, it crawled up Ethan's legs until it was face to face with him. It slid its palm over his eyes.

Instantly, Ethan began to frantically struggle against it, kicking out, his one free hand pushing, hitting, clawing, but he seemed powerless in the creature's hold, inexplicably unable to use his energy to dislodge the Erelim as it clung to him. He was panicking. I could see it and yet all I could do was clutch onto the shelf, horrified, frozen, unable to do a damn thing.

The Erelim grinned. Its eyes blinked as one.

'See! See!' it screeched. 'Hell-hell-hell-hellell-hellell-hellell.'

The word rolled over on its tongue again and again, until it was just one long jibberish scream that made no sense at all. And all the while, Ethan screamed in response, his jaw stiffening, his body convulsing like the Erelim was sending a surge of electricity right through him.

The mist was swirling again, moving towards us and with a cold realisation that ran its icy hands over my skin, I knew then we weren't getting out of here. It was too late. There was too many of them.

I stared desperately from the shifting fog back to the Erelim again.

Fear engulfed me. Pushed my face into the pillow. I screwed my eyes tight shut.

'Once a King or Queen of Narnia, Casey Brogan', whispered Mr Tumnus, slipping his warm hand into mine, 'always a King or Queen of Narnia.' 

My eyes flew open.

I could do something. I could. I felt it there, like the beating of my heart, like a breath from my lungs, like the blink of an eye, like the clench of a fist. It was there, inside me, and it was as much a part of me as anything else was and I knew then, it had always been there. I just hadn't known it until this moment. It was a certainty. A knowledge. An energy.

I moved now, climbing down towards them, with barely even a thought as to what I was doing. It was an instinct. Something inherent. Like connecting up to a battery and feeling switched on for the first time in my life. This was no mad heroics. This wasn't a last-ditch attempt by a weak, ineffectual junkie who figured she had nothing to lose. This was simply how it was meant to be.

The Erelim seemed unbothered by my presence and if some small part of me had hoped I could captivate him as I had done before, I knew it wasn't going to work now. That spell was broken.

But I had others.

Reaching out, I grabbed hold of the Erelim's wrist.

'Let go,' I demanded, in a voice that I knew was mine and yet which seemed to come from somewhere deep within, the vibrations of it oscillating through my body.

The Erelim's lips pulled back from its clenched teeth, its many eyes darting to where my hand encircled its bony arm.

'You will let go,' I said again. 'Or I will rip your hand from your arm just as you did to them. I will put out every one of your eyes and blind you for eternity. You will let go. You will release him.'

The Erelim stared wildly at me. 'Sorceress!' it screamed in fear. 'Endorian!'

My grip tightened.

The eyeball on the hand that was covering Ethan's eyes was bulging from the socket, expanding, the dark iris stretching out of shape as it swelled. Larger and larger it got, until with a wet, squelching pop it burst open, water and blood pouring from the now-empty cavity.

The Erelim howled in agony, its mouth dropping open. I continued to squeeze.

Its right eye – the one where an eye should be – ballooned outwards to almost twice the size of its counterpart. I could see the blood vessels engorging on the white of its eyeball, tiny splits appearing across the surface which began to seep blood, a violent burst of bloodied tears pouring down its face.

'Nooooooo, noooooooooo,' the Erelim wailed and, unable to withstand anymore, it released Ethan, clutching its distended eyeball as if to stop it from combusting and only to howl even louder as the swollen eye exploded against its palm. Cloudy, milk-sop liquid spilled from between its fingers. Screeching, it let go of the shelf completely, falling away, its body dropping like a dead weight to the landing below us.

The mist that hung like a shroud over everything was fading fast, almost as if swallowed up by the creatures that were now teeming towards us, their pace only slowed by how many of them were there, all crushed together in the narrow space of the aisle. They were like one moving mass of wings and limbs, of clawed hands and teeth-filled faces. They crawled over one another until I could see no gap between their bodies.

'Ethan! We have to go!'

He looked shell-shocked and disorientated. His eyes were glassy spheres, like he was lost somewhere in his mind, unable to comprehend where he was or what he should do next.

I cupped his cheek in my palm and pulled his face towards mine. 'Ethan, snap out of it!'

He blinked and gasped a breath. 'Casey?' he said, with a confusion clouding his brow. 'What did you...'

'Forget that, we need to go now.' I pointed at the oncoming army of Powers.

'Fuck.'

The prospect of certain death seemed to have just the effect on him that I needed. Swinging round, he reached upwards, climbing back up to where the wormhole was languishing half-open, and I followed him, desperately glancing at the Angels who were almost upon us.

Clinging with one hand onto the shelf just above the wormhole and with his feet braced against the one just beneath it, Ethan motioned for me to grab hold of him and I did, clinging onto him tightly. He was still breathing hard and I could feel the dampness of his body through his shirt as I held onto him.

With a grunt of exertion, he pulled violently on the air, and the void opened up wide. 

The Angels surged forwards and Ethan let go just in time, propelling us into a pit of darkness that had never looked so appealing as it did right then.

*

I had no idea where we were.

We weren't back in the apartment on Gianicolo Hill. We weren't at Ethan's place. Wherever he had taken us, there were no windows or doors. It was like being encapsulated in a shadow-filled box, that appeared to be no larger than Oscar's office.

The journey through the wormholes from the Vatican Vaults had not been the same route we had taken to get in. The air had been thin and stale, as if no Shedim had used this network of wormholes in centuries. Ethan had still seemed disorientated and confused and I was sure that more than once he had taken the wrong route, only to lead us back on ourselves, his anxiety seeping out in small whimpers and moans that seemed so unlike the self-assured, cocky demon I knew him to be.

Finally, we had arrived here, and as soon as we had entered the room, Ethan collapsed to his knees, and, with the adrenalin diminishing, I couldn't help but collapse beside him, the strength draining from my legs. The Erelim's attack and our tumultuous journey out of the Vaults had clearly cost him, and he crawled sluggishly away from me to lean his head against the wall.

From where I lay on my back, I raised myself onto my elbows and glanced around at the room.

In the corner lay a thin, foam mattress draped in layers of blankets and by its side, a small lamp with a dull bulb hardly illuminated much at all, not that the dark indigo walls helped. Apart from the bed and the lamp, the room was bare. If Ethan had created this dimensional pocket, it was even more desperate and miserable than his apartment back in London. I wondered whether it was an emergency sanctuary because I couldn't actually imagine anyone residing here for long without it slowly eroding their mind.

The weak bulb flickered.

With my heart in my mouth, I sat up, staring at it as it flickered again. Crumpled against the wall, Ethan was groaning, seemingly oblivious to the light blinking on and off.

'Ethan,' I whispered. 'The light. The light.'

I inched closer to him and touched his back. He flinched, a sharp jerking movement as if the touch of my hand burnt him. I stared at him in alarm.

'Ethan?'

He couldn't do this. Not now. If the Angels had somehow followed our path through the wormholes, I wasn't sure I had the strength to do whatever the Hell it was I'd done to the Erelim. I wasn't even sure I'd know how to do it again.

Ethan groaned again, turning his head the other way so I couldn't see any of his face. 'It's fine,' he said. 'It's fine, it's fine... it's just... the lamp.' His voice sounded strained, like he was trying to speak through gritted teeth.

'What is it? What's wrong?'

If this was meant to be a sanctuary for him, he didn't seem at all eased by being here, in fact, instead of his agitation fading, it only seemed to be increasing by the second. He was bent over double, with his arms wrapped around his stomach, his head still pressed against the wall. Sweat glistened on the back of his neck.

He was in pain. He had to be. Whatever the Erelim had done to him, he was in agony now and it was more than just the cut on his head that was causing him this amount of discomfort.

'Ethan, please, what is it? What can I do?' I said, edging nearer to him.

I touched him again and this time, his reaction was more aggressive than before, twisting violently away from me and sliding himself along the wall in a desperate attempt to move out of my reach.

'Get away,' he hissed. 'Don't touch me. Don't come any closer.'

'I don't understand,' I said. 'If you're hurt, maybe I can help. Please, just tell me what to do.'

'You can't do anything! Get away, I told you to get the fuck away!' he said, practically spitting out the words.

Rising up onto his knees, he slammed his hand against the wall and I gasped.

The tips of his fingers were all black.

Even as I stared at them, it was spreading, like an oil-slick seeping over his skin, until it had crept over his knuckles. His groans were louder now, full of anguish and pain and exertion, as his fingers scratched at the wall.

'What's happening? What did that thing do to you?'

I was free-falling, panic overwhelming me. What if this was how the Angels killed them? What if the Erelim had struck a fatal blow and I was watching Ethan die right before my eyes?

Ethan slammed both his hands against the wall this time, emitting a half-strangled cry as if he was struggling to breathe. His chest was heaving in and out, his whole body a ball of explosive tension.

'If you're hurt,' I said. 'We can still do something. Don't just give up, we can fight this.'

He choked out a cold, harsh laugh. 'Fight this? If only it was that simple.'

'Please, Ethan,' I whispered, but it came out in a sob, tears blurring my vision. I couldn't bear this. I couldn't bear how, after everything, this was how it was going to end.

He stilled a little. 'Casey, it'll be okay, I promise...' He inhaled. Exhaled deep. 'It'll be okay... get some rest... I'll be back.'

I tensed. 'What? You're leaving?'

Balling his hands into fists, he pressed them against the wall. 'I told you, it'll be okay. I'll come back, I swear.'

'You can't leave. You're hurt...'

'I'm not hurt. I'm not, please Casey, just trust me on this one, okay?'

'Trust you?' My voice rose sharply. 'You won't even look at me! How am I meant to trust you when you won't even look me in the eye and tell me what's really going on here?'

He said nothing, huddling closer to the wall, and clutching at the back of his head. The creeping blackness had stopped at his knuckles, but I was still transfixed by it, still fearful of what it meant. If he did leave me here, he'd have to come back because there was no way out of this room without him and, if meant what he said about coming back, then either he was telling the truth and he wasn't hurt, or he needed to go somewhere to heal himself. I stared at his hands, remembering what Albert had said about the demons.

'Ethan, please, whatever it is, it'll be okay. You can tell me.' I took a deep breath and reached out, my fingers hovering in the air just above where Ethan's hands were wrapped around his head. 'You ask me to trust you, but how can I when you clearly don't trust me? If you did, you'd at least look at me.'

'I can't, I can't... don't ask me to...'

I placed my hand gently over his. He groaned again, so full of anguish that it made my heart ache to hear it, and when he tried to pull away, I just moved closer, refusing to let go.

'Why not?' I urged him.

'Because you'll see,' he said. 'You'll see...'

My head was almost touching his now. 'You don't think I've seen it all already? You don't think I've seen everything your world has to offer? I'm not phased, Ethan. Not anymore.'

'This is different. You'll see, and everything will be different.'

Reaching out with my other hand, I threaded it through the gap under where he was cradling his head and my hand found his cheek. 'Look at me. Please, just look at me.' 

His rasping breath was hot on my wrist. Panicked, frantic breaths. I brushed my fingertips over his. His breathing eased, still with a slight tremor, but definitely calmer than it had been before.

Slowly, he began to lower his hands, a deep sigh racking his whole body.

With his forehead still touching the wall, he turned cautiously, tilting it to reveal what he'd been so desperately trying to conceal from me.

Ethan's eyes were pools of obsidian black. All the white had been eradicated. The blue iris was gone. The only colour that remained was the pupil that now burned an iridescent orange fire, that could have been mistaken for rage if it wasn't for the overwhelming sense of sadness that consumed his expression. Underneath his eyes, that same inky-stain that plagued his hands, was stretching down over his cheekbones, the tendrils snaking out from the edge like feathery veins under his skin.

Angel wings, I thought. Like angel wings across his face.

'Now you see,' he whispered. 'Now you really see.'

When I said nothing, he shifted on his knees to face me, a small sardonic smile pulling his mouth up into a smirk.

'This is what they did to us. This is the Mark of the Fallen. A curse given to every angel that followed my father into exile and to every child born of those that fell. The Divine Council made sure that we would find no sanctuary on Earth, because they knew mankind would never accept us in our true form. And who could blame them? We are monsters.'

I swallowed. 'You're not a monster, Ethan.'

'No?' He cocked his head to one side. 'Then why are you no longer touching me?'

My hands were in my lap. I looked back up at him.

'You want me to touch you?'

He sneered. 'Do you think I need your pity, Casey?'

'No.' I shook my head. 'As a matter of fact, I don't, but I do think you want me to touch you.'

His cheek muscles twitched. 'You're mistaken.'

'Am I?'

I reached out to touch his face, letting my fingertips run along his jaw line, and as I leaned closer, pressing my mouth against his, I traced my tongue gently over his lower lip.

He sucked in a breath. Just the whisper of one, but it was there. I heard it. Felt it against my skin.

'You're not a monster,' I said again. 'You're a liar, not a very good one, mind you, but you are a liar.'

'I'm the liar?' He laughed. 'You think I don't see this for what it is?'

'I don't think you see at all. But I do. I see,' I said, looking into those oily-black eyes. 'I see you, Ethan Drake. I see it all and I'm still not fucking fazed by it.'

I leaned up to brush my lips over the skin underneath his eyes, trailing down his face until I reached his mouth again, drawing him into a deep kiss and only pulling back to savour the taste of him on my tongue.

'Oh, and for the record, I do really, really want to touch you.'

*****

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For the record, I am very aware of how cruel it is to stop it there. TRUST ME I KNOW, and I wish I could keep going, but a girl's gotta cut it somewhere and it's almost 3am and I'm tired AF. Forgive me. I love you <3