Breathe

Chapter 38

Cian

After the gate opened, and the dark ilk of the demons spilled out above the ground, it was hard for me to grasp much of anything. The least I could tell was that somehow, somehow, I was still breathing, for now. My skin was cold, numb, the vision in my injured eye completely flickered out by now. I was only half-seeing the world around me, and maybe I was even glad for it. I wanted to be blind against the destruction—the destruction I'd caused.

Then I heard a voice, way too bold and yet way too friendly to belong to any of the fallen angels surrounding me. "Michael, let Cian Horne go. You've done enough damage."

I blinked, managing to crawl over onto my stomach, forcing my head up. A wave of relief swept its way through me: The Order stood at the edge of the pentagram, at least fifteen or so of the members, all in their gold-fringed white uniforms, pristine, alabaster wings to match. I exhaled, my chest shuddering.

Nick was in front of me. Though I couldn't see his face, I could hear his voice, and could tell he was beyond enraged. "Don't you dare call me that."

The same angel that had spoken before spoke again; I realized I recognized him as Samuel. He had taken my wings away—so maybe I resented him a little, but regardless, I had never been so happy to see an Order representative in my life. "It's your name, isn't it?"

"I left that name behind years ago," Nick spat. "When you exiled me."

"Your actions have consequences, Michael," Samuel said, and seemed pleased when Nick gave an aggravated grunt. Michael, huh? So Nick had once been one of the biggies. "I don't imagine you expected anything less—you were making deals with the devil, after all. Now release Mr. Horne."

"No sense in that," Nick fought back. "The gate's already opened, there's nothing you can do—"

"Oh?" Samuel taunted, folding his arms. Through my one good eye, I could see the blurry forms of the other members beginning to trail the edge of the pentagram, their wings so bright they almost blinded me entirely. "You're wrong there. My friends are already performing a seal on the gate. In no less than—oh, five minutes, maybe?—your precious demon world will be closed off again."

Nick's hands turned to fists, and for a moment, I thought he was going to reach for Samuel, but he didn't. I suppose even he knew going after an Order member was a mistake, and would have the highest of punishments.

Instead, he turned towards me.

My blood ran cold in my veins—his face was still, eyes burning with the flame of wrath, yet icy at the same time. It was anger in its purest form, and all of it was directed at me.

Nick knelt, tipping my chin up and gritting his teeth. "You. You knew they would come! You went behind my back, you, you bastard! I don't even want your damn soul! I want your life."

His hand struck my cheek with the force of stones; I turned my head to the side, spitting out the blood that had welled behind my teeth. The eye he'd sliced had swollen shut, and now it began throbbing, as did every inch of me. My skin was littered with the teeth marks of the demons, where they'd sunken their jaws into my veins, hungrily and greedily.

In other words, I was in enough pain that dying might be a blessing.

Death has caught up to me, I'd told Lucie once. I say let it come.

"Kill me," I gasped. "Go ahead. I don't care anymore."

He snarled at me, getting to his feet again. I hadn't realized it, but he'd brought a gun along with him—he tore it from his belt, pointing its barrel right at me. I stared it down, at the hollow tunnel from which a bullet could fire, if only Nick pulled the trigger. One second there, the next gone. All it took was that one trigger finger.