Maybe nobody else had ever gone to bat for him, but she would. And like she’d told him, it was her ass on the line, too.

“Understood,” she finally said, her voice seeming to echo in the warm night air. “So where are we going? You might as well tell me. I’m not running away.”

“You should,” he replied, and she just sighed irritably.

“Tough.” She tossed her next words at him like she was throwing down a gauntlet. “We’re a team now.”

He actually flinched. “Not voluntarily,” he muttered. He would be defensive until he was no longer drawing breath, she thought, brushing off the slap at her.

“Irrelevant,” she said. “You saved my life, I drank your blood. We’re stuck with each other.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to pretend she was bossing one of the multitudes of vampires under her purview instead of an angsty fallen angel whose mere presence made her pulse quicken. “So where are we going?”

Meresin looked at the sand. Then at the sky.

“Purgatory.”

Chapter Ten

“Ah. Purgatory. Well…that’s dead people, right?”

Meresin went very still, the lights of his eyes unblinking. “You don’t know what Purgatory is?”

Her cheeks flushed with faint warmth at the utter disbelief in his question. Still, she stood straighter and arched an eyebrow. “I know it’s a religious thing. I just didn’t know it was an actual place. I haven’t spent a lot of time hanging out in churches since I was turned, Meresin.” Then she gave him a little half smile. “I mean, recent drunken tirades at statues excepted.” When he continued to just stare at her, she shifted uneasily. What was she missing, here? “Give me a point of reference. Roman, remember? You were around. Somewhere.”

He frowned and dropped his eyes for a split second, just long enough for her to wonder—again—what she’d said to bother him.

“I guess you could think of it like Erebus.”

Dru wrinkled her nose immediately. “That’s what I thought it sounded like. And do I get to ask why you have to go to a lousy in-between place full of unhappy spirits to fix your lightning problem? Because if Purgatory and Erebus are alike…then I really don’t understand this. What could be there for you?”

He ruffled his feathers, and she wondered if the was bristling was for her. But what did he expect? Even in her world, the dead didn’t come back to answer questions. And considering some of the crappy horror movies Justin watched, she was really, really glad about that.

“I have to go to a…man…named Amriel. He’s strange. Not an angel, not a demon. And he has a unique forge, from which many weapons on both sides of the Balance have come. That’s where I was changed. That’s…what I remember.”

Not a lot of information, but it was progress—even though she didn’t like the angry, bewildered look that came into Meresin’s eyes when he talked about this forge. Did he not really remember what had happened?

“Okay,” she said, stepping toward him. For once, he didn’t step back. He seemed too lost in thought for that. “Maybe you want to lay this out for me before we go. I could stand to know what, exactly, we’re doing.”

His growl of irritation surprised her, and she stiffened. His eyes flickered like candles in a strong breeze, eerie and beautiful. She caught the flash of his fangs in the dark. The soft, rhythmic sound of the waves was utterly at odds with his agitation.

“I don’t know,” he said with a sharp shake of his head. “I have to go back to the beginning. I have to go where I became what I am. But don’t ask me what I’m supposed to do there, or how Amriel can actually help, because I don’t know. But if there’s anyone who might be able to fix this,” he continued, his voice harsh as he held out hands that began to crawl with deadly violet light, “it would be him. He’s it.”

Dru eyed him warily. Out here alone, she could feel the power pumping off him in waves. The hair on her arms began to stand up from the charge in the air, never a good sign. She put her hands gently up before her, a silent plea for peace.

“Okay,” she said. “That’s fine, Meresin. I just wondered. I didn’t know that was where you went—”

“Where else would I go?” he snapped, and the wind began to rise. Dru glanced around nervously before refocusing on him. “Do you think beings that can fill weapons with the power of fire and lightning are just hanging around on earth, watching TV, and baking cookies in their spare time? Amriel, is a forgemaster. They’re rare. His forge is rarer still. He binds the elements to weapons, like our fire swords.”

Dru stared at him, wondering if he understood what he’d just revealed. “Is that what happened to you?” she asked, keeping her voice steady as she came to stand just inches from him. “This Amriel put you and the lightning together as though you were a weapon? You’re an angel, not a blade.” Just imagining what the process might have been like made her cringe. And the pain that twisted in his expression for the briefest instant told her that whatever she might imagine, it had been worse. He might not remember everything, but he remembered that.

Meresin drew in a deep breath, shoulders straight and rigid, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re wrong. I am a weapon, Dru. The only one like me. That’s just as well…one overpowered and defective demon in the world is enough.”

It hurt to hear him say that about himself, but clearly he was convinced it was the truth.

“I’m sorr—”

“Don’t be,” he interrupted, his voice hard. “I asked for this. All of it.” It was only then that he seemed to realize how close she was. Dru watched, torn between fascination and helpless, frustrated longing as he got himself under control again, grimacing a little as the light flickering over his skin dimmed, then vanished. He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them, there was an unpleasant gleam there.

“I’m fine. Save your pity,” he said.

It wasn’t pity, not exactly. But she didn’t think that trying to explain emotional nuance would go over very well right now. It had been a long time since she’d heard that much self-loathing in someone’s voice—whatever he was searching for, she wasn’t sure finding it would fix that. All she could do was hope.

“There’s no pity, Meresin,” she said, keeping her tone as neutral as she could. “Let’s just get this over with. If there’s a portal or something you need to open, go ahead. I’m ready.” Meresin’s shoulders stiffened.

“What is it?” she asked.

He exhaled loudly and dropped his duffel on the ground. “I can’t.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another and gave him a beleaguered look. “What do you mean, you can’t? I know you think Uriel is a jerk, but he wouldn’t insist you do something you couldn’t.”

His laugh was little more than a breath of wind. “You don’t know Uriel very well then. It’s always his way or the highway, ability be damned. He wants to prove a point with me. Rub my nose in it one last time, I suppose.”

Dru frowned. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“You don’t really know him,” he snapped. “He doesn’t bend. He never did. An angel does what he or she was made for, right from the beginning, no exceptions…not even when that job might not be—” He stopped midsentence, seeming to realize he was starting to give away things that piqued Dru’s curiosity. It hadn’t occurred to her that Meresin and Uriel had any kind of personal history, much less an unpleasant one. She thought of the big archangel as a gruff warrior who, nonetheless, cared what happened to his wayward Fallen brothers.

She wondered what had happened to make Meresin’s perspective so different. And she quickly guessed why it was such an issue right this moment.

“You need him here, don’t you?” she asked quietly. “To get to Purgatory.”

“Did he tell you that?” Meresin asked, his voice sharp.

“No, I’m actually smart enough to have figured it out on my own, considering your mood. Not to mention that he’s the reason we’re here right now. But really, keep trying to take my head off. It’s making this so much more enjoyable.”

“Oh.” He stared at the ground, then appeared to come to a reluctant decision. “I’m…sorry, then,” he muttered.

“Excuse me? Didn’t quite catch that.”

All she got was a warning glare in return, but the fact that he’d actually looked chagrined was satisfying.

“Okay. I can do this. I can remember how to do this.”

“Do what?” she asked.

He breathed deeply, blew out the breath, and shook his arms as though he was loosening up for a fight. “Get past Uriel’s big roadblock,” he replied without looking at her. “He wants me to call him here.”

“Ah,” she said, not sure why he looked quite so grim. “Not as easy as a phone call, I guess.”

There was a flicker of a self-deprecating smile when he glanced at her. “No,” he said. “There’s a way that angels call one another with their minds. I’m sure he’s somewhere nearby, waiting for me to fail so that he can flutter down here and pass judgment. He’s been waiting to do that for long enough.” His smile vanished, his lips instead curling into a sneer. “I’ll show him. I have to.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent. Meresin stretched out his wings. They were beautiful close up, she thought, like gleaming ebony with just a hint of shimmer, and their span was massive. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut as he appeared to concentrate. His lips moved silently. His wings quivered as a sudden gust of wind swirled the sand around the two of them.

A minute passed. Then another. Dru shifted restlessly. Meresin stayed still, a crease appearing in his brow. As the seconds, then minutes passed, the only motion was the deepening of that crease. Nothing happened. More nothing happened. Finally, she broke the silence.

“I don’t think this is working, Meresin.”

The look he gave her was vile when his eyes opened. “I don’t think I asked you.” Then he threw up his hands, dug them into his hair, and growled. “It’s been too long. I don’t remember how to do this! It’s gone. All of it is gone!”

“It’s fine,” Dru said. He’d pulled himself back from the edge once tonight already, and now it looked as though he was hurtling back toward it. The last thing she needed was for Meresin to have some sort of dramatically violent episode before they even got started. “Just try again. So what if you’re rusty? You’ll get it.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snapped. “The last time I sought out that connection and had it answered was well before you were born. It was before my wings went black. And now I’m expected to just make it happen, just like that? He knows I can’t do this. It’s just one more humiliation!”

Unnerved by the suddenness and strength of his fury, Dru tried to come up with a way to diffuse the situation without being overly positive, since that only seemed to set him off worse. “Well, feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to get Uriel here,” she said. “You’re a powerful demon. Isn’t there a way to go without him? It’s not like you’re trying to get back into Heaven.”

It had been exactly the wrong thing to say. He looked as though she’d slapped him hard across the face—and that he had every intention of making her pay for it. If it had been any other demon before her, despite her strength and age, she would have run. Even now, it took all her willpower not to. But even as she saw his claws lengthening, she stood her ground. Meresin had been allowed to stalk around being awful while everyone scattered for thousands of years. It was time he had a reintroduction to some rudimentary social graces. Like not threatening people with certain death when they were trying to help.

“You have no idea what this is like, or what I’ve tried in the past. How excruciating this is for someone like me.” His voice was as calm as his eyes were wild, the stillness at the center of a tornado.

She could actually see him winding up as the rage built inside him. His eyes flickered, and jagged tendrils of electricity began to sizzle and crawl over his arms, his chest. His hands closed into tight fists, and his breath came hard and fast. He seemed to be trying to get a handle on it…but this time, he was failing miserably.

“I’d know if you would tell me,” Dru said, hearing the pleading in her voice. “I want to understand, Meresin! When are you going to figure out I’m on your side? That even Uriel is on—”

“Damn it!” he roared and hurled a bolt of purple light into the sky. That didn’t seem to satisfy him, so he threw two more into the sand several feet away, where they left long scorch marks and a burning piece of driftwood. He threw his head back and then roared again.

“Meresin!” Dru shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the rising wind. He didn’t seem to hear her, instead he bared his fangs and shouted at the moon.

“You want me to call on you? I’m calling on you, you smug son of a bitch! Here I am!” He hurled several more bolts of lightning into the darkness, power rippling over him so strong that it began to make patterns in the sand at his feet. Dru could feel the charge in the air making the hair on her arms and neck stand on end.

“Meresin!” she called again, her voice stronger now. “Stop!”