In a hidden world where angels and demons clash, Cecelia White's life takes a thrilling turn when she discovers her connection to a powerful relic, the Angel Key. With her best friend Evie by her side, Cecelia is thrust into a supernatural conflict...
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The wind blasted against him as he cut through the city like a bullet through the night. Riding Athena felt like flying, the way he leaned his body into every turn, shifting and banking as he weaved in and out of traffic as fluid as water. He drowned out the roar of his engine with his thoughts, his every instinct on high alert as he focused on one thing and one thing only... finding her.
In the past month, he and the Elites had dismantled Azazel's operation with ruthless precision. He used every resource at his disposal to locate and obliterate each and every warehouse, business, and storage facility under Azazel's control. The very foundation of his regime had crumbled to dust. Christoph knew there was only one place left for Azazel to hide her, the last stronghold. The old abandoned subway system—Azazel's final fortress.
Going in there alone was a death sentence, but they had messed with the two people he loved most in this world. Nothing would stop him now. He just hoped he wasn't too late.
He had brought the Staff of Moses with him. He wasn't sure what power was left in it, or what kind of toll using it would take on his body, but he would strike the fear of God into them if it were the last thing he ever did.
They reached the bay, hiding their bikes a good distance away and scouting the area. Two guards stood at the entrance. Aside from them, the place was eerily empty... too empty.
"This has trap written all over it," Darius whispered to Christoph.
"I know, big guy."
"They're going to ambush us once we're inside."
"They're going to try," Christoph challenged, shooting his friend a wicked smile. He gripped the Staff tightly. "Darius, what's the best way to put out a fire?"
"Smother it," Darius replied.
"Exactly."
Inside, the demons whispered amongst themselves in anticipation, celebrating their perceived victory over the Elite Wing, drunk on their defeat of the legendary Eros.
"He was nothing!" one laughed.
"He groveled under my boot for mercy!" another boasted.
"Let Ceruleus come for his whore! The Elites are nothing now! We'll kill them all!" a third roared.
They were hungry for blood. Azazel had promised that Ceruleus Maximus would be weak with grief. Little did he know...
Little did they all know what was coming for them.
A burly demon called their attention. "Soldiers, can you feel that?" He walked through the crowd, his shiny bald head reflecting the little light in the room. It was Abaddon. "The anticipation of battle, the calm before the storm! At any minute, Ceruleus is going to burst through those doors, and we will take his head. I want to hear it! Bring me death! Death to Ceruleus! DEATH!"
