Chapter Eleven—Micheal
Daemon's POV
"We don't know. They're covering their tracks better than you are." He met my eyes. "But whoever they are, they're moving faster than either of us. And if they complete the ritual before we can stop them..."
"Everything ends." I finished.
"Everything ends."
I sat back, processing this. An unknown player in the game. Someone with resources enough to hunt Veilstone and stay hidden from both Heaven and Hell. That shouldn't be possible.
Unless.
"You think it's one of yours," I said. "An angel. That's why you came here instead of mobilizing your forces. You think the threat is internal."
Michael's silence was confirmation enough.
"Who?" I pressed.
"If I knew that, I wouldn't need your help." He leaned forward again. "Daemon, I know you have no reason to trust me. I know what we did to you was—" He stopped, jaw clenching. "I know. But this is bigger than our history. Bigger than Heaven and Hell."
"You want an alliance."
"I want to not die watching creation tear itself apart." He spread his hands. "After that, we can go back to hating each other. But right now, we need to work together."
Every instinct I had screamed not to trust him. This was Michael. The angel who'd cast me down. Who'd stood by while they erased Angelina's memories. Who represented everything I'd spent a millennium learning to hate.
But he was also right. If someone else was gathering Veilstone, if they were close to completing the ritual, then my plans meant nothing. Can't get revenge on Heaven if Heaven doesn't exist.
"What do you want from me?" I asked.
"Information. Resources. Your demon scouts can go places my angels can't." He gestured around us. "And frankly, you understand darkness better than anyone. If this rogue collector is using forbidden methods, you'd recognize them."
"In exchange for?"
"Heaven's full intelligence on Veilstone locations. Our research on the ritual. And..." He hesitated. "A truce. No attacks. No schemes. Just cooperation until this is resolved."
I laughed. Couldn't help it. "You want me to play nice with Heaven while we hunt down a doomsday cult together? Michael, you've been breathing too much celestial air. It's made you delusional."
"I'm being practical." His expression hardened. "And so should you. Because if creation collapses, your revenge means nothing. Your pain means nothing. You'll just cease to exist along with everything else."
He had a point. Damn him, he had a point.
"I need time to think about this," I said.
"We don't have time. Every day that passes—"
"I said I need time." I stood. "You'll have my answer in twenty-four hours. Until then, get out of my realm."
Michael stood as well. "Daemon, please. I know I'm asking a lot. But this is important."
"Everything's always important with you people." I turned to leave, then stopped. "One question. Does Heaven know you're here?"
His silence told me everything.
"You went rogue." I almost smiled. "Michael, the perfect soldier, breaking protocol. What would the Council say?"
"The Council is part of the problem." The words came out bitter. Angry. So unlike Michael it was almost shocking. "They're more concerned with politics than survival. So yes, I came here without permission. Because someone needs to actually do something."
I studied him for a long moment. Saw the cracks in his perfect facade. The desperation hiding behind that controlled expression.
"Twenty-four hours," I repeated. Then I left him standing there.
My mind raced as I walked back through the corridors. An alliance with Michael. Working with Heaven. The very thought made my skin crawl.
But if it meant getting access to their Veilstone research, to their resources...
I could use that. Could turn it to my advantage. Michael thought I'd help him stop the rogue collector. What he didn't know was that I could gather the information, learn the ritual, and then use it myself before anyone realized what I was doing.
The perfect trap.
I was almost back to the upper chambers when I remembered Angelina. Still in that room of memories. Still processing everything I'd shown her.
I should leave her there. Let her drown in the past she couldn't remember. Let it corrupt her further.
But my feet carried me to the silver door anyway.
She was sitting on the floor beneath the dark sphere, her knees pulled to her chest. Her hair caught the residual light, and even from here I could see it was more black than silver now.
She looked up when I entered. "Did you mean it? When you said I destroyed you?"
"Every word."
"Good." She stood slowly. "Because I think you destroyed me too. The me I was before. And I think..." She moved toward me. "I think we've been destroying each other for a thousand years. Even when I didn't remember you."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that maybe it's time we stopped." She stopped in front of me. Close enough to touch. "You showed me what we were. Now show me what we could be instead."
"There is no instead, Angelina. There's only this." I gestured between us. "Corruption and revenge and pain."
"Then why does looking at you hurt like losing something I never knew I had?" Her eyes searched mine. "Why does being near you feel like coming home to a place I've never been?"
Because the bond wasn't broken, just buried. Because souls that intertwined the way ours did couldn't be fully separated, no matter what Heaven tried. Because she was still mine and I was still hers and all the anger in the universe couldn't change that.
But I didn't say any of that.
"You're confused," I said instead. "Disoriented. Your corruption is making you feel things that aren't real."
"Is that what you tell yourself?" She reached up, her hand hovering near my face. "That what you feel for me isn't real?"
I caught her wrist before she could touch me. "Don't."
"Why not?"
"Because if you touch me like that, like you used to, I won't be able to..." I stopped, jaw clenching.
"Won't be able to what?"
"To keep pretending I don't still love you."
The words hung between us like a confession and a curse.
Her eyes widened. "Daemon—"
"Get back to your cage." I released her wrist, stepping back. "Now."
"But—"
"NOW."
She fled, and I stood alone in that room of light and memory, surrounded by evidence of every mistake I'd ever made.
And the worst part was, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.