Zhreziel snarled. “Do you want it?”
“No, but—”
“But what? Are you completely stupid?”
In a flash, Ares had the fallen angel by the throat and was squeezing. “You do not speak to her that way.” Loathing burned in Zhreziel’s eyes, but he gave a reluctant nod, and Ares dropped him. “Cara, come here.”
“No!” Zhreziel scrambled backward, but Thanatos caught him. The angel began to pant, his skin paling. “I don’t want it. Don’t… want… it.”
Ares eyed the fallen angel with disgust. “You haven’t entered Sheoul, which means you’re redeemable. Taking the agimortus will be in service to humans. Don’t you think that will be a good thing?”
“Good? Pestilence and his demons will be after me!”
“We’ll protect you.”
“The way you protected Batarel and Sestiel? Forgive me if I’m dubious about the quality of your protection.”
“Idiot angel.” Limos, who had been licking a blue lollipop, wagged it at him. “Those two thought they’d be better off on their own. That won’t happen with you. We’ll keep you nice and safe. And busy. Ares has a great video collection. Ooh, and a wet bar.”
“What are you people not getting? I don’t want the damned thing! If I have it and Pestilence kills me, my soul will belong to Satan. If he doesn’t, and one of your other Seals breaks, then I will turn evil because I bear the agimortus. It’s a lose-lose for me.” He nodded to Cara. “She’s human. Not meant to bear the agimortus, so she won’t turn evil.”
“You selfish shit.” Ares’s voice pulsed with mounting anger. “She’s going to die if she doesn’t transfer it. Do you want the Final Battle to begin?”
“Of course not,” Zhreziel snapped. “But if I’m not carrying the agimortus, I can fight on the side of good and win my soul and wings back.”
Oh, God. He was in a fight for his very soul. The nausea became a crashing wave that threatened to spill right out of Cara’s stomach.
“Say it with me.” Thanatos’s voice was wintry as he spoke into the angel’s ear. “Apocalypse. Armageddon. It will break in a matter of hours if Cara keeps the agimortus, because it’s killing her.”
“And if I take it,” Zhreziel shot back, “it’s only delayed. Either you or Limos will see the breaking of your Seal, and then you all turn evil. It’s coming, you stupid fucks. No matter what, it’s coming. And I’d rather fight against you than fight for you.”
A soft “pop” rang out as Limos pulled the lollipop out of her mouth. “You realize we don’t need your permission, right? So you should probably shut up now. We have to keep you safe, but we don’t have to be nice to you.” She gestured to the shelves of DVDs. “Ares has the complete collection of Miami Vice. We could torture you until you’re begging for Pestilence to kill you.”
“Release me!” Zhreziel brushed his hair away from his face, but it fell back, covering one eye as he swiveled around to Cara. “Please. Don’t do this.”
“Shut up.” Limos slammed her candy down on the bar top and wrapped her hand around the back of the fallen angel’s neck, forcing his gaze away from Cara. “Ares also has Starsky and Hutch.”
This was not at all how Cara had envisioned this going, and she swallowed sickly. “Can we hold off? Find another fallen angel who would be willing?”
“Even if some mythical willing creature existed at some point in time,” Limos said, “we’re running out of even unwilling options.”
Unable to bear looking at Zhreziel for one more second, Cara swung around to Ares. “So what are our other options?”
“There are none,” Ares said. “Do it.”
Stall. “I don’t know how.”
“Touch him with the intent of passing it. It should be automatic.”
She shivered, suddenly chilled to the bone. “I can’t.”
“You can.” Ares’s hands clamped down on her shoulders, and he dipped his head to look her straight in the eye. “You have to.”
“I won’t do to him what was done to me.” She took a bracing breath, steeling herself against what was probably a terrible decision. “I can’t do this against his will.”
Thanatos opened his mouth to say something—going by his thunderous expression, Cara could guess what—but Ares held up his hand to stay his brother. “Give us a minute.”
She allowed Ares to lead her to a quiet corner. “Listen to me, Cara,” he said slowly as if speaking to a child. “You’re dying.”
“Well aware of that.”
“If you give it to him, you’ll live. I can’t—” He cut himself off with a curse.
“You can’t what?” When he said nothing, she grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet hers. They were angry, but at the same time, sad.
“I can’t lose you,” he bit out. “I can’t be with you, not with Pestilence around, but I can’t lose you.”
She didn’t know what to say, but Ares did.
“Please.”
She knew how much it cost him to beg. “I wish I could,” she said softly, and he stepped back as if she’d slapped him.
“Dammit, Cara.” He thrust his fingers through his hair and paced for a dozen strides before returning to her. “We’re in a war where there are no rules, no room for pity or kindness. The loser forfeits not just life, but the entire fucking Earth. Transfer the agimortus. Now.”
“There is always room for kindness,” she said. “Forcing this on Zhreziel would be an epic violation. I know this for a fact. This would be as bad as killing him. If I did it, I’d feel stained, Ares. Ruined.”
Ares slammed his fist into the wall. “Do it, dammit!”
“No.”
Ares regarded her with shuttered eyes, his calm more frightening than his rage. “Fine. Die. Bring about the end of the world. What’s it matter to me? I’ll be evil and won’t give a shit.”
“There’s got to be another way.”
“There’s not,” he roared.
She jammed her finger into his chest. “Yelling at me isn’t going to do anything but make me dig my heels in deeper. You haven’t learned a lot about women in your thousands of years, have you?” In the background, Limos snorted, and Ares pegged his sister with a glare. Cara snapped her fingers, bringing his head back around. The stunned expression on his face, the you-dared-to-snap-at-me look, might have made her laugh if the situation wasn’t so we’re-all-going-to-die. “You said you were some sort of military commander or general or something, and you have a kind of innate strategic knowledge. Well, use it and find another way out of this. Because I’m not transferring the agimortus to that fallen angel.”
Twenty
Ares needed a minute. No way could he stand in that room and look at Cara for another second. Too much emotion was tripping through him—anger, fear, hurt. It was all so unfamiliar, hitting him hard and all at once, that it was clouding his ability to think straight. His brain was working on ways to force her to transfer the agimortus, ranging from pleasant things like fucking her into capitulation, to dark, sinister ideas like blackmail or torture. Not her torture, but he’d bet he could get that fallen angel to beg her to transfer it.
She’d hate him forever for that. But she’d be alive. And the world would be whole.
He stepped outside, inhaled a lungful of sea air that was tinged with a smoky hint of hellhound. Hal was nearby. Maybe his sire would show up and give Ares the satisfaction of carving his heart out.
“Ares.” Limos gripped his elbow just as he was about to punch through the side of the building. “She isn’t a warrior.”
He ground his molars so viciously they hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means she doesn’t have your ‘win at all costs’ mindset.” The white flower in her hair slid out of place, and Limos grabbed it, tossed it to the ground in an uncharacteristic display of annoyance. “She wants to do the humane thing, and she isn’t thinking beyond that.”