Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(20)
Author: J.R. Ward

Colin began to shake, his expression twisting into a grimace. “I can’t … hold … them … much longer…”

Great time to go Scotty from Star Trek.

And then the chaos only ramped higher. On the far side of the teeming mass of demon servants, a wailing sound rose up. It was Devina, saying Jim’s name over and over again as her rotting skeleton mourned over his body.

“Devina!” Adrian hollered. “Devina! Help us get him back!”

More minions continued to layer the protection spell, pushing Colin back even farther. And then a limb broke through, clawing inside—

“No!” Sissy yelled, slashing at it with the dagger. “No!”

There was an ear-ringing squeal as the minion retreated. But almost immediately, another took its place. Sissy was on it, scooting around Ad to go up close and personal with that sharp blade. And Adrian followed suit, careful not to throw off his balance or clip Sissy with his own weapon.

“Devina!” he barked. “You stupid bitch! Help us get Jim back!”

Colin glanced over his shoulder, his face straining from the effort. From between gritted teeth, he said, “She can?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Adrian locked a hand on Sissy’s shoulder and yanked her out of range as an entire head came through from the side. “You got a better fucking idea?”

There was an unholy scream as he stabbed that minion right in the temple. And Sissy didn’t miss a beat, spinning around and going after one that was trying to get in from behind.

“Devina! Help us get him home!”

Jesus, he hoped she could hear him—and prayed that she fell for it—

From out of nowhere, one of the minions infiltrated the protective field and Ad had no choice but to throw Sissy back and face the thing head-on. Between one breath and the next, he was consumed by a shitload of nasty, the oily body tendriling around him, trapping him as the—

“Devina!” he yelled. “Fucking Devina…!”

Nigel, the archangel, hadn’t been in unfamiliar territory in … how long? Aeons and aeons. Since the moment he had been crafted of the Creator’s will and given a form with which to ambulate by air or by foot.

Surveying the vast gray wasteland before him, he wondered if his considered plan to reengage Jim had, in fact, been ill conceived. More than that, he had been unprepared for the pain—and not in regard to the throes of an immortal dying, but rather that of the heart.

The separation from Colin was nearly unbearable.

This may have been a terrible mistake.

Indeed, Nigel’s was not a character of impulse, and at the time he had made his decision and put a dagger to his chest, he had believed down to his angelic marrow that what actions he sought to take were in the best interests of Heaven and their prevailing in the war against Devina. But now, surrounded by this gray barrenness, the solitude and isolation suggested he had, in fact, been rash.

Or mayhap he was simply deep in a suffering that eclipsed all of the good reasons for doing what he had done.

After all, what choice had he had? Jim Heron, the savior, had turned into Jim Heron, the distracted and unreliable: As important as these rounds against the demon were, it would not be the first time that the course of human history was diverted into disaster because some female tempted a man with dire consequences ensuing. Further, to have failed against Devina was untenable even with his love at his side.

Not only would he and Colin lose everything, but Heaven and Earth would become the demon’s playground.

There was so much more at stake than just himself and whom he loved. And the reality was that the human he had chosen as savior, and in whom he had put his faith, had failed, the losses that had been ever mounting the result of Jim’s poor performances, poor choices, and poor allegiance. The sodding bastard had even given a win away.

By killing himself, Nigel had created a vacuum up in Heaven that was to be filled by Jim by mandate and Sissy would not be able to follow. Her soul was of the rare nether variety—having been freed of Hell, she could nonetheless not enter unto the Manse of Souls up above regardless of any virtue she possessed, as she was unclean. And whether that contamination was of her doing or was the result of maleficence on Devina’s part did not matter.

The castle that protected the souls of the righteous could not be risked.

So Nigel had done what he did, and now he suffered, and Colin no doubt suffered, but there was a chance, assuming their backup savior filled those combat boots …

Mayhap all had not been lost.

Adrian, after all, had his own reasons for trying to win. With Eddie in stasis, there was a strong possibility that that wild card of an angel would be tempered enough to be effective.

Although for truth, the very fact that Adrian Vogel was the best option humanity had was a terrible commentary on the gravity of the situation.

With his brain cannibalizing itself with such thoughts, Nigel pivoted in place and regarded all the directions of his current reality. There was no real reason to bother with the turning about, however, as all remained the same: just a flat, dusty plain the color of a dove’s long feather with nothing but rock formations scattered here and there.

From out of all compass points, wind began to blow, as if it were a living thing that had just noticed his presence. With dust kicking up into his eyes, he coughed into his fisted hand. His vestments were the ones that had been upon his body when he had done the deed, nothing but a loose dressing robe and silk slippers.

He wished now that he’d brought more clothes.

Suicide was hardly something to pack for, however. At least as far as he’d known it.

Taking a step forward, he found the ground spongy, but not in a damp way. In fact, what was under his feet was a loosely packed bed of fine particles—undoubtedly where that wind got its grit.

As he moved for no other reason than that standing still was antithetical to his nature, he had a further realization.

There had been another justification to do what he had. As head of the archangels, as the tip of the spear for goodness, he had recognized that he could not expect a subordinate to do something he himself would not. The savior Jim Heron may not have perhaps come to know his truth yet, but he was in love with the girl he had saved from the bowels of Hell. It was the only explanation for how he had acted, for those unforgivable lapses in judgment.

The role the savior had taken on required him to put aside his own emotions and interests for the sake of winning the war.

So Nigel had left Colin behind to show that that was not only possible, but imperative.