Finale

to annihilate the entire fallen angel race using devilcraft. And if they don’t already know it, they’re going to figure it out
soon.”
    I sputtered.
“What?”
    “Hank had a plan. This was it. The extinction of their race. Blakely believes that with a little more time, he can develop a prototype of a weapon strong enough to kill a fallen angel,
something that was never even considered possible. Until now.”
    I jumped off the bench and began pacing the floor. “Why are you telling me this?”
    “It’s time to make your choice. Are you with us or not?”
    “Patch isn’t the problem. He isn’t working with fallen angels. He doesn’t want war.” Patch’s only goal was making sure I stayed in power, fulfilled my oath,
and came out alive. But if I told him about devilcraft, Dante was right: Patch would do everything he could to destroy it.
    “If you tell him about devilcraft, it’s over for us,” Dante said.
    He was asking me to either betray him, Scott, and thousands of innocent Nephilim . . . or Patch. A heavy weight roiled my stomach. The pain was so sharp, I nearly doubled over.
    “Take the afternoon to think about it,” Dante said, rising to his feet. “Unless I hear otherwise, I’ll expect you to be ready to train first thing tomorrow.” He
watched me a moment, his brown eyes steady but holding a shade of doubt. “I hope we’re still on the same side, Nora,” he said quietly, then walked out.
    I stayed in the building several minutes, sitting in the semidarkness, surrounded by the bizarrely cheerful squeals and laughter of children trying to do the Hokey Pokey in roller skates. I
bowed my head and hid my face in my hands. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to call off the war, declare a cease-fire, and walk away from it all to be with
Patch.
    Instead Dante and Blakely had plowed ahead, picked up right where Hank had left off, and raised the stakes to all or nothing. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t think Dante and Blakely, and all Nephilim for that matter, stood a chance at annihilating fallen angels, but I suspected that devilcraft changed
everything. And what did it mean for my half of the deal? If the Nephilim waged war without me, would the archangels still hold me accountable?
    Yes. Yes, they would.
    Wherever Blakely was holed up, undoubtedly guarded by his own small and vigilant Nephilim security detail, it was clear he was experimenting with more powerful and more dangerous prototypes. He
was the root of the problem.
    Which put finding him, and his secret lab, at the top of my priority list.
    Right after I found Patch. My stomach somersaulted with worry, and I sent up yet another silent prayer for him.

C HAPTER

10
    I WAS A SHORT DISTANCE FROM THE VOLKSWAGEN WHEN I saw a shadowy figure taking up space in the driver’s seat. I
stopped, my thoughts taking an initial dive into Cowboy-Hat-back-for-round-two territory. I held my breath, debating the wisdom of running. But the longer I debated, the more my over-active
imagination waned, and the figure took its true form. Patch crooked his finger, beckoning me inside. I broke into a grin, my worry dissolving instantaneously.
    “Skipping school for roller-skating?” he asked as I dropped inside the car.
    “You know me. Purple wheels are my weakness.”
    Patch smiled. “I didn’t see your car at school. I’ve been looking for you. Can you spare a few minutes?”
    I handed him my keys. “You drive.”
    Patch drove us to a gorgeous luxury townhouse complex overlooking Casco Bay. The building’s historic charm—deep red brick mixed with stone from a local quarry—placed it well
over a hundred years old, but it had been completely renovated with gleaming windows, black marble columns, and a doorman. Patch pulled into a single-car garage and lowered the door, leaving us in
cool darkness.
    “New place?” I asked.
    “Pepper hired a few Nephilim thugs to redecorate my studio beneath Delphic. I needed a place on short notice with upgraded security.”
    We exited the Volkswagen, climbed a narrow set of stairs, walked through a door, and came out in Patch’s new kitchen. Wall-to-wall windows offered stunning views of the bay. A few white
sailboats dotted the water, and a picturesque blue fog shrouded the surrounding cliffs. Autumn foliage ringed the bay, burning in vibrant shades of red that seemed to set the landscape to flame.
The dock at the base of the