The year is 1879. When thirteen-year-old Ruth Merritt Holbrook emerges from her family's burning estate, bloody and charred, but entirely numb--She makes headlines. Reporters believe she is deranged. They accuse her of having set the fire. All the h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It is late and I should have written before now, but I have found myself quite busy since my return to London. Since I received Lucius's most recent letter, Gabriel and Michael have been schooling me on how to wield the sword. As Michael himself has said—it appears that remaining offensive will not be enough, Lucius will come for me if I do not come for him.
I must be schooled in defense as well. I must know when to use this weapon. When the time comes, the other angels are not permitted to help me. I must complete my task on my own. This frightens me, but I feel relieved to know that no one else need suffer Lucifer if I fail.
My muscles do not hurt, as I believe they should, but the quivering of my arms when in the midst of a duel is enough proof of my weakness. Gabriel is stern with me. He pushes me even when I am tired and I can barely keep myself standing. His attitude towards me is born of his anger at my recklessness.
He had taken me in his office as soon as I'd returned. "You could have gotten yourself killed. All of this would have been for nothing—all because you needed to see him? You should be wiser than that, Cassiel. We have done so much to get you here, to reach this moment. How dare you risk it all on a childish desire."
"I was afraid for Leviathan—"
His voice was raised, stern, but not yelling. "You're going to kill him. You came here to kill him."
"I needed to know if I would still care. If I would still love him like I did before."
He shook his head. "Why does it matter? You want him gone, dissipated, forgotten. You asked to become human so that you could end his existence."
"But it has been seventeen years since I last saw him—at least when I could recognize him for who he is. Time runs differently in heaven. Hundreds of years have passed and I am only now reappearing in this story. I just needed to know if, who he is now, would change how my soul, how my heart, felt about him" I had bowed my head, pleading with my friend to listen, to understand. "And even you cannot stand before me and pretend as if Leviathan has not changed. It is clear something within him is at war."
"He is still a demon. He made his choice."
"And humanity made theirs, and yet Adonai forgave."
"It is not the same for us."
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe, to will my fingers to stop shaking. I'd long since buried them within the folds of my dress, trying to keep Gabriel from knowing how much he was affecting me. In my heart, I understood that he did not want to harm me—he had agreed to help me in my cause and had done a splendid job of doing so—but I found the truth agonizing at best. I was in love with a man who had proven himself wicked. Why then, as I stood trying very hard not to cry, did I feel as if I'd misjudged him?
"He has fought for me." I said, my eyes still pressed shut. "Time and time again he has tried to warn me, tried to urge me to stay away from Lucius. Even as I hid, feet from the devil, Leviathan came to my aid."
