Finale

Blakely? I’ve always wondered why
he told me. Looking back, it almost seems like he had a strategy: for you to snatch Blakely and bury him from the light of day, leaving Dante alone to control devilcraft.”
    “Which is exactly what I had planned. Until Marcie upset those plans.”
    “Dante has been undermining me from the start,” I realized.
    “Not anymore. We have Blakely’s testimony.”
    “Does that mean we’re meeting him?”
    Patch had set the keys to his motorcycle on the kitchen counter not five minutes ago, and he reached for them again. “Never a dull moment, Angel.”
    The address Blakely had given me took us to a single-story redbrick home in an older neighborhood. Two shaded windows flanked the front door. The sprawling property seemed to
swallow the little cottage whole.
    Patch drove around the block twice, eyes sharp, then parked down the street out of the reach of the streetlights. He gave the front door three solid raps. A light burned behind the living room
window, but there were no other signs that someone was home.
    “Stay here,” Patch told me. “I’m going around back.”
    I waited on the stoop, glancing behind me at the street. It was too cold for the neighbors to be out walking the dog, and not a single car drove past.
    The front door lock tumbled, and Patch opened the door from within. “Back door was wide open. Got a bad feeling,” he said.
    I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. “Blakely?” I called out softly. The house was small enough to make raising my voice unnecessary.
    “He’s not on the first floor,” Patch said. “But there are stairs leading to a basement.”
    We took the stairs and turned into a lit room. I sucked in a breath as my eyes focused on the trail of red liquid smeared across the carpet. Red handprints painted the wall and led in the same
direction—to a dark bedroom straight ahead. In the grainy shadows, I could just make out the outline of a bed—and Blakely’s body crumpled beside it.
    Patch’s arm immediately shot out, blocking me. “Go upstairs,” he ordered.
    Without thinking, I ducked under Patch’s arm and rushed toward Blakely. “He’s hurt!”
    The whites of Blakely’s eyes sizzled an ethereal blue. Blood trickled from his mouth, gurgling as he tried unsuccessfully to speak.
    “Dante did this?” Patch asked him, following directly behind me.
    I crouched down, checking Blakely’s vital signs. His heartbeat thrummed weakly and erratically. Tears stung my eyes. I didn’t know if I was crying for Blakely, or for what his death
would mean for me, but I suspected, selfishly, it was the latter.
    Blakely coughed blood, his voice threadbare. “Dante knows—fallen angels’ feathers.”
    I gave Patch’s hand a numbing squeeze.
How can Dante know about the feathers? Pepper wouldn’t have told him. And we’re the only other two who know.
    If Dante knows about the feathers, he’ll try to intercept Pepper on his way back to Earth,
Patch answered tensely.
We can’t let him get the feathers.
    “Lisa Martin—here—soon,” Blakely rasped, each word a struggle.
    “Where is the lab?” I asked Blakely. “How can we destroy Dante’s supply of devilcraft?”
    He gave his head a hard shake, as if I’d asked the wrong question. “His sword—
he
—doesn’t know. Lied. Kill—him too,” he choked hoarsely, more
blood washing over his lips. The blood had turned from red to fiery blue.
    “Okay, I understand,” I said, patting his shoulder to console him. “The sword he’s going to duel with tomorrow will kill him too, only he doesn’t know it. This is
good, Blakely. Now tell me where the lab is.”
    “Tried—tell—you,” he croaked.
    I shook Blakely’s shoulders. “You didn’t tell me. Where is the lab?” I didn’t believe destroying the lab would change the outcome of tomorrow’s
duel—Dante would have plenty of devilcraft in his system when we fought, but no matter what happened to me, if Patch could destroy the lab, devilcraft would vanish once and for all. I felt
personally responsible for putting the powers of hell back in, well,
hell
.
    We have to go, Angel,
Patch spoke to my thoughts.
Lisa can’t see us here. It doesn’t look good.
    I rattled Blakely harder. “Where is the lab?”
    His balled hands relaxed. His eyes, glazed that chilling shade of blue, stared vacantly up at me.
    “We can’t waste any more time here,” Patch told me. “We have to assume Dante is going after Pepper and