The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(87)

Cybele hurried in his wake. “Where are we, exactly?”

He shouldered open a door. “Southwark.”

“Where’s that?”

“London.”

London was his idea of a safe location? “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not exactly off the beaten path. Mab’s looking for us. She’s the Druid alpha and—”

“I know who Mab is.” He shot her a look. “And I know what she is.”

“Then you know why we can’t let her find us. We need to hide.”

He lowered Arthur onto a sagging double bed. “The best place to hide is in plain sight.”

“What kind of stupid logic is that?”

He turned, eyeing her frankly. “A simple thank you would be sufficient.”

“I thanked you already.” She went to the side of the bed. Arthur lay sprawled on his back, arms flung wide, face gray. He looked like death itself. Her chest squeezed so tightly she could hardly breathe.

“You’re welcome,” Michael said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move toward the door.

She turned. “Where are you going?”

“To find Raphael. I’ve been gone too long. He’s got to have noticed by now.” He disappeared into the hallway.

She smoothed a lock of hair off Arthur’s forehead. She kissed the spot where it’d been. Then she turned away and followed Michael into the flat’s living room, where the archangel stood conversing with Fortunato and Maweth.

“You really should let me take you to Heaven,” he was telling the cherub. “I swear Raphael won’t punish you. There would be no point to it. The damage is done.”

“Maybe I’d go home,” Fortunato said slowly. “But only if Maweth can come too.”

Maweth snorted. “Forget that. They’d never let me in.”

“Sure they would.” The cherub’s blue eyes blinked. “Michael, tell him it’s okay.”

Michael ran a hand over his head. “Um...I’m going to have to agree with Maweth on this one, Fortunato. Heaven is not going to welcome the Demon of Death with open arms.”

“See? I told you.” Maweth shook his head. “Honestly, Lucky, do you have even half a brain? Look. Just go to Heaven without me. I’ll be fine here on Earth.”

“No.” The cherub crossed his arms over his chubby chest. “If Heaven won’t have you, it won’t get me either. I’m staying here. With you.”

“Not a good idea,” Michael said. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a hellfiend invasion. Earth’s not the best place for you to be right now.”

“I don’t care.” The little angel pouted. “I’m staying. Unless—” He eyed his unlikely friend uncertainly. “Unless...Maweth doesn’t want me here?”

Maweth looked discomfited. “Of course I want you here,” he mumbled.

Michael looked from cherub to demon, clearly nonplussed. “This...friendship,” he said, “is highly irregular.”

“No more irregular than archangels consorting with Nephilim,” Maweth pointed out.

Michael’s expression shuttered. “All right, all right. Fine. But please. Stay in this flat until the sky clears.”

“When’s that going to be?” Fortunato asked.

Michael shrugged. “No clue.”

“And when whoever lives here shows up?” Cybele asked. “What then?”

“No one lives here. The flat’s yours for as long as you want it. You’ll find the keys and a copy of the lease on the desk in the second bedroom. There’s food in the kitchen. There’s no need to go out, so don’t. Mab can’t find you as long as you stay inside.”

“What? How did you manage all that?”

He shrugged. “I have a few talents. Now I’ve really got to get—” His brows snapped together. “Cybele? Are you okay?”

No. She felt as though a boulder had slammed into her head. Her ears were ringing. Her chest was tight. She couldn’t breathe, and her hands had gone clammy. Cold sweat dripped down her brow. Her legs shook.

“I’m going to throw up...”

She was only dimly aware of Michael guiding her to the couch. His hand, warm and large, came down on the back of her neck, urging her to drop her head between her knees.

She tasted bile. Luc, she thought. Luc.

Michael knelt in front of her. After a moment, when she thought she wouldn’t vomit in his face, she looked up.

“Cybele, what’s wrong?”

“Luc,” she choked out. “He’s...” Cybele, I’m sorry. Her twin’s plea made itself known, not in words but in a raw feeling deep in her bones.

“Luc?” Michael’s brows drew in. “Who’s Luc?”

“My twin brother. He’s...Mab’s thrall. Luc and I, we’re...oh, I don’t know how to describe it. Linked, I guess you’d say. Emotionally.”

“And you feel something about him? Something bad?”

She looked up at the archangel, into his beautiful, concerned eyes. “He’s going to kill himself.”

***

Luc lay face down on a slick surface amid an overwhelming stink of urine. There was a disgusting taste on his tongue and a painful ringing inside his skull. And behind the ringing... He strained his ears at the noise, which seemed to echo down a long, oppressive tunnel. Behind the ringing...the sound of...