Warring Angel

By Samantha L. Strong

An elite fighter. An ancient evil secretly gathering power for millennia. Can she stop it before Heaven itself is destroyed?

I spent centuries longing to ascend from the rank of Guardian, and now that I'm a cobalt-winged, demon-fighting Nephil, things aren't as grand as I expected. Because of my mistake in London in 1888, nobody wants to be my partner. Worse, I can't stop screwing up my missions.

When the demon Asorat aligns with Adolf Hitler and openly declares his intentions to invade Heaven, the Council of Seraphim needs all the fighters it can get. I’m tasked with preparing the most promising of new human-angel hybrids to attempt halting the Nazi party's growing power.

As we train for battle, I grapple with the information I discovered decades ago: I'm a Cornerstone, created by the Source to defeat an ancient evil. However, no one—not even the Council—knows my ultimate purpose. But time is running out for me to figure out how to also oppose the secret and powerful Aleph. Will I embrace the destiny the Source created for me in time to stop it? Or will my failure bring about the end of Heaven itself?

Warring Angel is the final book in the Fallen Redemption trilogy, featuring an angel coming into her power, an evil older than the Earth itself, and a war that will change the face of Heaven and Hell forever.

Reviews from Books #1 and #2

“Kept me turning the pages until early in the morning...”

“I read this book even faster than I read the first one...”

“Seriously, don’t put it down. It gets better with every page you turn...”

“The author took me on a journey I did not expect...”

“Heartbreaking, thought-provoking, and multi-faceted...”

“Another tightly-plotted story full of well-drawn characters...”

“Disturbing, entertaining, emotional, and for me, philosophical...”

“Rather than thinking, ‘Could I believe this world exists?’ I'm actually trying to persuade myself it doesn't...”

“An original and refreshing take on angels...”

“I love this book...”

“I loved Enael so much...”

“This is a must-read series!”

Fans of Fallen, Black Wings, and Hush, Hush will love this fantastic series by science fiction and fantasy author Samantha L. Strong.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samantha L. Strong
• Release date: Jun 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9780995217317

Samantha L. Strong

Samantha L. Strong (formerly S. L. Saboviec) writes dark and beautiful sci-fi and fantasy stories about complicated characters. Like many Elder Millenials, she’d like to become an herbalist and live in an abandoned (and probably haunted) nunnery somewhere far away from people. She loves drawing sigils on everything, growing plants, and playing with her three adorable daughters. You can find her on Twitter @SamanthaLStrong, on Instagram @SamanthaLStrong, and on Facebook @AuthorSamanthaLStrong.Samantha’s short fiction has appeared in Amazing Stories, AE, and elsewhere. She has three novels out about angels and demons: the first two and a companion novel in her Fallen Redemption trilogy. She’s also the Reprint Editor and has been a slush reader since 2016 at Flash Fiction Online.Beating the odds against metastatic breast cancer since 2017.

Book preview

Angel

CHAPTER 1

No one believed my assigned assassin, Nedeljko Čabrinović, would succeed in killing Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria. The good-spirited chatter in the streets of Sarajevo on June 28, 1914, gave no indication of what would befall the city later that day. Citizens lined the sidewalks, only a few suited gendarmes mingling among the crowd that was waiting for a glimpse of the archduke’s motorcade.

What the people of Sarajevo couldn’t see were the hundreds of angels hovering above and among them, doing what we do best: guarding them and ensuring that they lived their lives according to the plans established in Heaven. What the people didn’t know—never know while embodied—was that we angels are always there with them, carrying out whatever task we’ve been assigned in Heaven. Some can feel us in their minds or hearts or souls, but most cannot.

As the crowd waited in anticipation, so did we. But we were anticipating very different things. The crowd was celebrating, and we were initiating a world-changing event.

The motorcade is approaching. My squad leader’s voice filled my mind. The Nephil mind-to-mind communication still jarred me. I was still adjusting to my new abilities.

Nedeljko shifted and touched the bomb as long as his torso, which he had hidden inside his over-sized coat. His nervousness washed through the bond I shared with him, making me uneasy. That ability I was familiar with—the emotional connection with the person I was charged with watching over.

I took a relaxing breath, a remnant from the life I’d lived as penance for becoming a demon, and pushed feelings of calm through our bond.

Nedeljko stood up a little straighter.

Only a few suited gendarmes mingled amid the throngs of people lining the street. My squad leader had seen to this. We needed one of our six assassins, stationed along the route, to prevail, and police presence would dampen our humans’ resolve.

I harbored no illusions that Nedeljko and I would actually kill the archduke ourselves. I hoped that any of the others would be successful so that the mission’s outcome wouldn’t fall squarely and singularly on my shoulders—the only Nephil without a partner, working with the human no one believed in.

As usual.

If the others didn’t want me, then I didn’t want them. I’d been a Guardian alone for centuries, and I could be a lone demon fighter for centuries more, if necessary.

My squad leader spoke inside my mind again. Pair Three, ready?

Still, being referred to as a pair smarted.

Ready, I responded.

A woman in a floppy hat gave Nedeljko a long look. I nodded at her Guardian, who brushed a hand over her back to soothe her. The woman finally looked away, patted the head of the flag-waving child next to her, and leaned forward to crane her neck up the street.

Several blocks away, a roar erupted, indicating the first sighting of the motorcade. We knew Franz would be sitting in an open-air vehicle, with several other cars ahead and behind. He was likely smiling, perhaps reaching his hand out to some bold citizen who’d run up to the side of the car. His wife, too, would be waving, pleased by their welcome.

Something dark and inky lurked in the crowd: a Fearling, a living creature born through human suffering and whose sustenance is extreme emotion. Its presence indicated that a demon, knowing what was about to unfold, had brought it along like a pet.

Serinh, one of the Seraphim, the highest rank of angels, had spoken to me years ago in secret of a war brewing between Heaven and Hell. However, before now, the Nephil squads tasked to provoke the Great War had seen no coordinated resistance to our plans. Apparently, when an important enough moment arrived, demons appeared, ready to interfere.

My squad was here to ensure history unfolded as the Seraphim planned.

A second Fearling joined the first, crawling between the spectators, who were straining to see the motorcade. The Fearlings scooted in the direction of the first two assassins.

With a thought, I sent a warning to the pairs of Nephilim stations up the street. Two Fearlings, headed your way.

A demon with thick eyebrows and a scowl, invisible to the people around it, followed the creatures. As it stepped forward, the demon entered into a uniformed gendarme, possessing the human and becoming visible.

And you have direct interference coming.

My squad members would take care of it. My squad leader never tried to disguise her belief that any other member of my team was more effective than I. It’s probably why they’d given my assassin a bomb instead of a pistol. A pistol took too much accuracy and concentration.

At least I hadn’t been kicked out of the squad—or the rank of Nephil—yet.

Nedeljko’s nervousness worsened.

Though he couldn’t hear me, I said, Why are you so tense?

Directly in front of us in the street, visible only to angels, was what appeared to be another demon, although this close to me, it looked… strange.

It was smirking at me, and when I caught its black gaze, it chortled. Hello there, little Nephil.

With merely a thought, a trident appeared in my hand. Conjuring weapons was an ability I’d learned when I was a Reaper, the angelic rank I held prior to becoming a Nephil, and it was even easier now that I was the demon-fighting rank.

The demon smiled at the trident. What are you doing with that?

I flew over and landed between Nedeljko and the creature. Be off. We have a mission to complete.

Oh, yes, I know all about that mission. I’m just here to observe.

I felt no qualms about lifting the trident to his neck. My lack of hesitation at threatening violence, once I was able to wield weaponry effectively, may have been the reason I’d been promoted into active duty so soon.

The cheering of the crowd was getting closer, definitely past where the first two assassins had been. The other demon must have thwarted our first attempt.

Sure enough, my squad leader’s voice rang in my head. You’re next, Enael. Don’t make a mess of things again.

The demon didn’t seem to mind in the slightest that I held a pointed object to his throat. It’s not like I could kill him anyway, even if I wanted to. He squinted at me, and then a flash of recognition crossed his face. I remember you now. You were in a cage the last time I saw you.

A pang of regret squeezed my throat. The only time I’d ever been in a cage was in my former lover Voctic’s brothel. And you’re the demon who… coupled… with that Japanese woman.

Somehow he managed to bow with my trident still stuck into his neck. Indeed I am, doll. Osubatz, at your service.

Instead of speaking, I ground the trident in, and a spot of black blood welled.

I did not need this distraction right now. The motorcade was coming and Nedeljko had to act. I turned my attention to him, pushing fortitude toward him. He stepped forward, fingers wrapped around the tail of the bomb.

Keeping myself between Osubatz and Nedeljko, I allowed my human to pass. That’s right. Keep back, I said to the smirking demon. Let the man work. I pushed out calmness to my assassin, despite how irritated I was at being reminded of the most embarrassing moment in my life right in the middle of this important assignment.

The motorcade was driving past us.

Nedeljko pulled the bomb from his coat, smashed the cap loose against a street lamp to start the twelve-second timer, and strode toward the archduke. Osubatz skirted away from my trident. As I whirled to stab him somewhere more painful, he disappeared, then suddenly reappeared. Nedeljko pulled back and arm and tossed the grenade; Osubatz swung an arm at the bomb, which passed through his hand.

The grenade bounced off the back of the car that the archduke was riding in and rolled down the street. Osubatz must have concentrated just enough to clip the side of it. That took a lot of harnessed human belief, which fuels angelic and demonic power.

The bomb rolled under the next car and exploded. Screaming ripped through the street, and the crowd’s energy turned to panic. Fearlings swarmed past me, clambering out of the river and cavorting through the crowd, licking the clouds of fear puffing from the frightened citizens. Osubatz’s laughter taunted me as he turned and ran.

Come back here! I shouted, flapping after the demon who’d just interfered with one of the most intricate plans ever created by the Council of Seraphim. You’re not getting away from me.

Osubatz ducked through the crowd, weaving in and out of the scrambling humans. I disappeared the trident and leapt into the air. He turned down an alleyway and scurried around a building, but I was right behind him.

When I rounded the corner, he stood three steps away, wearing that infernal smirk. Good day, pretty angel. He tipped his head toward the sky and smiled. Someone’s looking for you.

What?

My squad leader’s angry voice rattled inside my head. Pair Three, come in! What is going on in that head of yours? Leave that demon alone. Pair Three, come in!

Pair Three? Oh, that’s me! She must be watching from her vantage place on a roof. Or if she was really upset with me, she was up there, hovering in the sky. I kept myself from cringing.

Bye, then, said Osubatz. He blew me a kiss and vanished.

You let that creature distract you! Where is Nedeljko? demanded my leader. You should have stayed with him!

Oh, no. Nedeljko.

I jumped into the air to look. He’d taken his cyanide pill and leapt into the Miljacka River. But without me there to take his soul—our failsafe plan for all the assassins—his suicide attempt failed. Nedeljko was vomiting up the poison while angry gendarmes hauled him from the river. A group of men and one stout woman surged forward, punching and kicking him. The gendarmes fought them off with clubs and shouts so they could arrest him.

"Enael, come join your squad right now."

I’d never heard a voice sound so angry before.

Another failed mission would follow me back to Heaven.

Angel

CHAPTER 2

When I fell in with the rest of my squad mates on the flat roof, my squad leader looked at me pointedly. I’ll deal with you later. To all of us, she said, Archduke Franz Ferdinand is still alive.

My hopes wilted that one of the other pairs had succeeded during the mayhem. The motorcade would have sped away, of course, and none of the remaining assassins could have gotten a clear shot.

The streets below were clearing, as cars rushed to the scene of the bombing. A man sobbed as his wife was carried on a stretcher into the back of a car. Blood from a gash on a doctor’s forehead leaked into his eye, and he wiped it away as he leaned over to help a wounded man.

Once again, I’d disrupted the Incarnation Plans orchestrated by Heaven and the humans who were to live them out. Once again, I’d failed at my task.

We can still carry out our objective, said our squad leader, "but we have a problem. In the uproar, our assassins have scattered. We have very little time before the archduke flees the city in fear. Pair Twelve is already there, calming him and making him stay while we regroup.

"Pairs Eight and Nine, go interfere with any plans for a new route. Ensure that the driver takes the old route. Pairs Ten and Eleven, get to the hospital and take care of anyone who dies there. I’ve sent for additional Reapers, so you can rejoin us when they’ve arrived.

The rest of you, go find our assassins. She sent a warning glance in my direction that said, Do not mess this up again. "We need to get into the streets and find them. We have one chance to right this. Convince one of them to place himself along the route, preferably someone with a gun instead of a bomb. I don’t want any more casualties this morning. The Engineers are going to have a lot of work to do, and they don’t need to add re-writing more Incarnation Plans to the list.

"What are you waiting for? Go, go, go!"

In a flurry of cobalt wings, we scattered into the city, two by two—except for me. As usual, I was the lone Nephil.

The start of the Great War hung in the balance. This was the most ambitious world event the Seraphim had ever planned. Because of its importance, they’d selected ten possible political dissidents to carry out the assassination, of whom only six made it to this day.

And so far, all six had failed. If I didn’t find one of the assassins and convince him to finish what we’d set out to do, the Engineers would have more to deal with than a few Incarnation Plans gone awry.

I stretched my awareness into the city, an ability that came with my blue wings. As I swept my gaze in the direction of the hospital, waves of emotion bubbled across the landscape: fear from the attacks, grief from those whose loved ones were hit by the bomb, pain. Well across Sarajevo, the usual human feelings muddled together—happiness, fatigue, anger—from those who were yet unaware of what had taken place.

And then, close to the hospital, I picked up a surge of sharp emotions: hatred, confusion, and self-loathing.

Gavrilo Princip. I’d found one of the assassins.

As I flew over the trees and buildings toward him, I located the other members of my squad. Most were fanned out to the city limits, and the rest were near the train depot, watching for anyone attempting to leave. I was apparently the only one who thought to look so close to the blast.

Perhaps I can redeem myself yet.

I wasn’t convincing myself. I’d made more than my fair share of mistakes as a Nephil. At least I hadn’t immediately been stripped of my position. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen this rank. It didn’t seem to suit me at all.

I landed outside a bar with a faded sign and gazed through the wall. The pub was a few blocks away from the bombing, far enough that the bartender had decided not to close shop but close enough that it was sparsely populated. The assassin, Gavrilo Princip, lacked a Guardian, as is customary, because it had been my squad’s responsibility to see to his success. He sat on a barstool at 10:30 in the morning, drinking a rakija, and brushing a hand over his coat pocket where his pistol was hidden.

I marched in the door and sat on the stool beside him. Should I use an aura? Probably not. That ability would affect the bartender washing glasses and the man in the back corner nursing his own drink. The two other Guardians looked at the floor, the ceiling, their Wards—anywhere but at me.

Gavrilo, my dear chap. I focused my attention on his emotions that I’d detected before. Anger. Guilt. Resignation. The day is not over. You have a country to avenge. The archduke hasn’t left the city yet, so there’s still a chance. I pressed hope toward him.

He sighed, drummed his fingers on the pistol, and took a long swig of the fruit brandy.

You’re sitting in a grimy pub in the middle of the morning, having given up already, but that’s not the Gavrilo I know. I knew only a little about him from my squad’s earlier debriefing, but the right things to say were easy. Humans always want the same reassurances. I added determination to the feelings I was pressing toward him. The Gavrilo I know would get up, march out into the sunshine, and finish this.

His frustration lessened. He swirled the liquid around in the glass. His hand gripped the barrel of the pistol. The bartender held up a glass to the light to inspect his polish job.

It’s unfair what the Ottoman Empire has done to you. What right does Austria have to rule over Serbia? You were once a great nation. You need to reclaim what was once yours. I knew something of righteous indignation, so I added that to his cocktail of emotions.

That’s right, he whispered.

What’s that? The bartender scrubbed a towel over the glass.

Nothing.

Come on, Gavrilo. I pushed resolve toward him, feeling his sense of defeat slide away. Go to the route the archduke is taking to the train station. You can do this. You must finish what you started. You’ll be the hero. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Not sitting here, tail tucked between your legs, drinking this swill.

He wrinkled his nose at the brandy. My speech was working.

Now stand up, I said.

He stood up.

Pay for that drink.

He rooted around in his other pocket for some change.

Now get out there and finish it!

With that, he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and smiled at the bartender. Thanks, friend. Have a great day.

You, too, friend. The bartender lifted the glass into the air again as Gavrilo marched from the pub.

I contacted my squad leader. I found Gavrilo Princip! He’s going, I judged his route, north of the Appel Quay near the Latin Bridge. He’s got his gun and he’s going to finish the assassination.

Acknowledged, said my squad leader.

The surprise in her response was unmistakable. I’m sure no one expected me to be the one to save the mission. But if I did, maybe things would change for the better.

Arriving near the designated location, Gavrilo paced nervously in front of a deli.

Relax. I focused my attention on his emotions again. He was too worked up to hit a target in a moving car. He needed to calm himself, steady his hand, or the bullet would go wide and possibly hit a passerby instead of his target. That’s the last thing I—any of us—need.

They’re coming! my squad leader squawked. Get him ready! Move into position! Hurry!

Yes, that’s— helping. I managed to cut off the last word.

What was that, Pair Three? replied my squad leader.

Acknowledged!

Two pairs of Nephilim landed on the sidewalk behind Gavrilo. Although I wanted this victory for my own redemption, I was grateful for their assistance. We stood in a ring around him, our wings splayed, and together, we focused to settle him.

He took a deep breath. He fingered his gun. He looked down the street onto Appel Quay.

The motorcade’s engine revved, and goosebumps prickled along his arm.

If Pairs Eight and Nine had done their jobs, the open-air car carrying the archduke would turn up this way. If not, they would continue on Appel Quay, and Gavrilo would have no chance to complete our mission.

I shifted.

Steady, said the Nephil on my left. He needs to concentrate.

I willed calm to course through myself and into Gavrilo.

The first car of the motorcade continued on Appel Quay, about to pass us by.

No… I whispered. We’ve missed our chance.

But then the car carrying the archduke turned.

A mustachioed man sitting in the car—Governor Oskar Potiorek—shouted, No! What are you doing?

The driver’s eyebrows knitted. He started to press the brake. I moved my attention to him, stirring confusion. He pressed the accelerator.

What are you doing, man? Stop the car and turn around! the governor yelled.

Finally, the driver pressed the brakes and the car screeched to a halt—directly in front of Gavrilo.

Our assassin stepped forward.

The driver fumbled with the drive shaft.

Go, go, go! screamed the governor.

Shots rang out.

Blood spurted from the archduke’s neck.

Beside him, his wife gasped and clutched her abdomen.

Gavrilo threw his weapon aside and raised his arms in the air.

He—and I—had accomplished what he’d set out to do. Archduke Franz Ferdinand—and his wife, Sophie—had been shot. Several people ran toward the car. A woman in the deli screamed. A man leapt onto the runner of the car with a handkerchief to press against the archduke’s gunshot wound.

Sophie, dear, gasped the archduke, don’t die. Stay alive for our children.

The driver reversed and accelerated down the street. Sophie’s grasp weakened on her husband’s body before she slumped forward.

I leapt into the air and flew after them.

It’s nothing. Franz’s voice slurred. I’m all right. He gripped the blood-soaked handkerchief, and his head lolled.

As the vehicle pulled in front of the town hall, I landed on the back of it and reached down into the archduke’s body. In one long death rattle, Franz’s body relinquished his soul.

We’d done it. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was dead.

We’d started the Great War.

Angel

CHAPTER 3

Several hours later, a host of Nephilim—several thousand total—gathered in the eastern three-quarters of the circular Nexus, the innermost circle of Heaven and the place of undiluted access to the Source. Our squad was a tiny part, and we hovered near a group of lyre-playing, crimson-winged Cherubim in the Orchestra, the second circle of Heaven.

Usually, clusters of humans and angels reclined on plum cushions atop wicker chairs and couches around the perimeter of the Nexus, but today, the symbol-covered, marble floor was empty as we awaited further instruction. My eyes were, as always, drawn to the circle with the triangle inside; its power had belonged to the now-deceased demon Yasva, whose defeat I’d participated in—albeit as a somewhat unwilling pawn, guided by the unseen hand of Council of Seraphim.

Subdued whispers and quiet congratulations echoed softly among the gathered angels. Four silver-winged Archangels stood near the beam of light that marked the center of the Nexus.

My squad leader gave me a stiff pat on the shoulder. After this is over, you’ll receive further instruction, she said before flying off to the other side of the circle.

What have I done now?

No one knew why we were here, only that upon hearing of the victory in Sarajevo, the Council of Seraphim had called these unprecedented gatherings, one for each host of Nephilim, held in succession.

Serinh, the Praetor and the voice of the Council of Seraphim for the next several decades, was the first to appear in the empty quarter of the Nexus. The beam of light sparkled off the gold strands in her hair, her gold eyeshadow, and her gold lipstick. Her typically pleasant demeanor was drawn into a look of worry.

Once silence had reached all the way to the outer edges of the group, Serinh flew high into the beam of light so everyone could see her. She was followed by only five of what should have been eight other Seraphim.

Something’s wrong. Where’s the rest of the Council?

Serinh looked out at the crowd, her gaze flickering over our faces. Good day and welcome. Thank you for joining us here today. We have some things to discuss, but first, the Council of Seraphim wants to congratulate the angels who participated in the mission to bring home the archduke of Austria.

Congratulations swept across the gathering.

We’ve embarked upon our goal of bringing long-lasting spiritual growth to the humans, as they requested when we began planning for the Great War centuries ago. Serinh touched the jewel hanging on her forehead. "But that is not why we called you here. We are gathering the Nephil hosts one by one to tell them this news, and then we will distribute the news to the other ranks. Please wait to discuss this amongst yourselves until tomorrow.

There is no easy way to say this. You will notice that the Council of Seraphim is missing three members. That is because today, Tsusud, Jinotab, and Beshla renounced their wings and left to join the demon Asorat in Hell as demons themselves. They seek to join him in his quest to overtake Heaven and instill himself in a position of power.

Cries of surprise rippled through the gathering. How is this possible? I’d never suspected their loyalties lay outside Heaven.

Our plans for the Great War are, as you know, going well. However, Asorat, who was once a Seraph himself—more gasps, though Serinh had already told me when I first became a Reaper—disagreed with our plans for the future when he was an angel. He has been preparing his attack for years, and we believe it will come in the form of disrupting human history.

I knew it, whispered a Nephil above my left shoulder.

We all knew it, shot back a Nephil hovering below me.

"What that will entail we do not know, although this will likely begin with small interruptions here and there and build into something larger as he gathers his power. We must be vigilant at all times. While Asorat’s interference was assumed, we cannot see the outcome of this conflict. A cloud hangs over the Orb of Seeing for all of history, obscuring everything four years past this point, including the end of the Great War."

The Orb of Seeing, housed on the top floor of the Praetorium inside the Council chambers, contains a map of possible futures, which the Seraphim use to chart human history. Although it cannot be used to foresee demons’ futures, being unable to see any history at all was unprecedented.

We couldn’t foresee the Fall of these three leaders of the Council because they worked stealthily to hide their plans, although for decades, a rift was apparent to all those with internal knowledge. We regret that it has come to this.

Asorat had Fallen—when? Centuries ago, and only now these three were following him. What did that mean for history?

However, four powerful demons are not the only threat of which you must all be aware. She halted, touched the jewel. Some of you know this story, but most of you don’t. When Heaven was first forged, a being known as the Aleph was the first creature the Source created. This being was a member of the earliest Council of Seraphim, and we know now it has been working for millennia to consolidate its power over the Heavenly realm.

I mirrored the surprise evident on the faces of the angels around me. Though I’d known about the Aleph, it was clear that I was among the few who did. I didn’t need yet another reason for my fellow Nephilim to dislike me.

While the records are unclear about this being’s identity, after decades-long searches in the Archives, we have concluded that Asorat is the Aleph. What’s more, he’s planning to use the power he’s gathered to bring war to Heaven.

I’d had my suspicions about the Aleph’s identity, but it being Asorat felt too simple, too obvious.

Chatter erupted, and Serinh waited, hovering in the beam of light. She kept her hands still, her wing beats steady. The other Seraphim flapped behind her.

Well, if it’s that simple, we should have no problem stopping him. I seemed to be the only one not overwhelmed by the revelation.

Finally, silence fell once again.

We know that the Aleph has gathered the true names of thousands upon thousands of beings, including those who are still angels, but only the Source knows the Aleph’s own. Her eyes were desperate. He has likely bound them tightly, which is why it is so difficult to gather any information about him. The Aleph’s power was clearly growing significantly. By collecting the true names of his followers, he could bend their will to his own desires.

But I didn’t believe that Asorat was the Aleph. If it was Serinh, as I’d wondered on more than one occasion, this was the perfect opportunity for her to divert suspicion from herself. Still, if she were the Aleph, she was doing an incredible job of hiding it. But then, a being thousands of years old planning to overthrow the Heavenly ranks would be an excellent liar, wouldn’t it?

That is all we have to say. Please take a day of solitude and rest. Tomorrow we will return to the battlefield. And this will not be against the unorganized forces we’ve seen so far. Because of the newest Falls, humans and angels are flocking to Asorat.

I glanced at my closest Nephil teammate. Were some of my comrades considering defecting?

We are determined not to let this affect our plans, and we will be naming their successors soon, Serinh finished. Thank you for joining us. May the Source that made you comfort and aid you.

The entirety of the gathering completed the greeting. Voices raised in solidarity echoed off the polished marble and resounded into the outer circles of Heaven. Peace and love to you.

Angel

CHAPTER 4

Two by two, Nephilim disappeared from the Nexus, and I peered around anxiously for my squad leader. Instead of an angel with cobalt wings flapping toward me, an angel with silver swooped in.

My platoon leader, Heppeliam, responsible for hundreds of us.

This can’t be good.

Good day, Enael, he said. Come along with me to the Praetorium. We have some things to discuss.

He flew off over the Orchestra, and I had no choice but to follow.

The news of the Seraphim’s Fall and the announcement that Asorat was the Aleph stuck inside me. I didn’t believe it—not really. But if the entire Council was asserting its truth through the Praetor, I was wondering if I should reconsider my suspicions as to the Aleph’s identity.

I barely noticed when we arrived at the front door of the Praetorium. Its black walls glittered in the evening light as Heppeliam held open the door for me. Twentieth floor.

I stepped into the vertical corridor and allowed the wind to lift me upward. When I landed, we marched down the hallway, passing doors with