Cian

My eyes blinked open, meeting pure darkness. I could barely make out the outlines of the furniture, the dim cupboard in front of me, the stilled ceiling fan above my head. My bones were cinder blocks; when I tried to move, every inch of me seared with pain, my head screaming.

I winced, slamming back down against the pillows.

I was beginning to think this had all been a very bad idea.

I emitted a small groan of pain, the only protest I could give against my motionless body. Not more than a second later, a woman's voice called: "Oh, are you awake?"

I couldn't manage to form words. "Mrrrgh..."

"I'll take that as a yes." The lights flicked on.

It took a moment for my vision to become more than an incomprehensible blur. The woman Nick had brought me to before slamming a blunt object at my head hovered over me, her wide, brown eyes scrutinizing my every detail, as observant as a bird's. Suddenly feeling as if my privacy was being violated, I tried in vain to sink lower into the sheets.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Nick can be a bit harsh at times. If it were me, I would have used a good old-fashioned sedative—because look at you now. You've got an ugly bruise."

Her fingers brushed my forehead, right above my eyebrow. I winced at the tender skin, not realizing how much damage he'd really done. Through gritted teeth, I managed to ask, "Who are you? What is this place?"

The woman stepped back, leaning back against the wall. "I'm Rae," she responded, "one of Nick's subordinates."

"Jesus—ow—how many of you does he have?"

Something in Rae's gaze darkened. "Enough that we're disposable," she muttered, looking away. "He did like that Dempsey kid, though. Too bad about him. You're the one dating his little sister, aren't you?"

"Uh," I stammered. I tried again to pull myself to a sitting position, but my head worked against me, thudding in protest. A sudden wave of lightheadedness flooded me, and I slumped back down in defeat, blinking out the glare of the lights yet again. "Yeah. I'm surprised you know so much about me."

"For a celebrity, you're awfully humble," Rae observed with a chuckle, and before I could ask, she waved me off, already knowing what was about to come out of my mouth. "Don't act like you don't know your worth. You were of interest as soon as you became the first mortal angel...but now..."

I closed my eyes. "Don't remind me."

"How'd it feel, hmm? To have wings and then get them torn from you?"

"Can you not?" I hissed. "Just...tell me where I am, why I'm here."

Rae tapped her foot back against the wall, brushing dark, satin-like hair back from her shoulder. I was stunned for a moment, because the gesture reminded me of Eden—how she always used to play with her hair when she wasn't saying something, twisting the black strands around her fingers. I forced my gaze away. "Whenever we have visitors," Rae began, her tone matter-of-fact, "we bring them here. But you, Cian, you're special. The fallen angels are going to gain their power back, and you're the—"

"Key," I finished on behalf of her. "Yeah. I know that much." Telling me was what got Eden killed.

"I'm sorry, but only Nick, really, knows exactly what he's doing. I was just told to gather a blood sample," Rae elaborated, then pointed a finger at something above my head. With my fatigued form, it took me a moment, but my eyes followed to where she indicated, finding the needle of an IV stuck in the vein of my arm. It was all I could do not to panic; I despised needles, had been squeamish around them ever since I'd woken up in the hospital on my seventeenth birthday. Thus was another reason I hated those bleach-smelling, infection-filled hellholes.

The IV's tube was filled with red, trailing all the way up to the bag, which looked to me like it held an unhealthy amount of the crimson substance in it. My stomach flipped over. No wonder I'd felt lightheaded. "What do you need my blood for?"

"The sacrifice," came Nick's voice.

I looked up warily as he entered the room, shooing Rae out as he did. She went without another word, ducking her head on her way out in a brisk, courteous bow. Nick was out of his sharp-fitting suit and in a sweater and jeans, his cool gaze hidden behind but not hindered by a small pair of wire frames I'd never seen him with before. When he reached to rubbed his temples, he appeared exhausted. "Eden didn't tell you everything, now did she?" He waited until I shook my head. "Smart. But not smart enough."

"You didn't have to kill her—"

"I did. She was disloyal. We fallen angels are all about loyalty, if not anything else," Nick cut in without hesitation. He leaned on one of the four posters of the bed, eyeing me levelly. "Eden knew what she was doing when she told you. She wanted to die. I did her a favor."

"Did her a favor? You ruined her life, and then snatched it from her when she tried to fix it!" I snapped. I shot forward, no longer able to contain the anger inside of me. All of my efforts were in vain however, when another wave of dizziness sent me falling back down to the bed again. Sweat sheeted my skin; I felt feverish.

As I groaned, Nick chuckled. "Careful, my angel. The blood loss must have you feeling woozy. I'd lay down for a while."

I lifted a trembling hand to shield my eyes from the light. Everything was spinning. "Tell me," I said, words stumbling over my dry tongue, "what you're taking my blood for."

"I told you," replied Nick with an exhale. "You're the sacrifice, Cian. In order for the demons to be one with the human, living world, they need the purest of pure bloods."

My hand lowered. Nick's eyes glittered with mischief and admiration, neither of which made me feel better. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, use your logic, Horne. Human blood wouldn't work; it's much too full of normality and sin. My blood wouldn't either, since immortal blood is unnatural and therefore unworthy. I'd take an angel's sinless, consecrated blood, but it, too, is immortal. But you..."

"I'm an angel," I said with a low voice, my heart sinking in my chest, "but I'm mortal."

Nick grinned. "The purest of the pure."

"You didn't want me to become a fallen angel," I added, the edges of my vision beginning to blur a bit. "You never did. You just wanted my blood."

"You've got one bit wrong," Nick clarified. He stepped forward, cradling the bag of my blood in his hands, turning it this way and that as if examining its authenticity. My stomach did yet another somersault; I wanted to throw up. "I don't want your blood, Cian. The demons do. And it's when they take it that the door to the demon world will open up, and the fallen angels can claim what's rightfully theirs. The Order will go scrambling for the hills—"

"—and I'll be dead?"

"No, no, not if you cooperate," Nick assured, passing off my concern with a wave of his hand. He set the blood bag neatly back on the IV stand, narrowing his eyes at me. "If you don't fuss, I'll command the demons to only take what they need—which is not enough to kill you. If you resist me, I will let them devour you. I tell no lie."

I cringed, unable to fight images of the night that had led to the loss of my wings—the screeching of the metal as it was crushed underneath the demon's talons, the agonizing keen of its spindle in my back. It had left me, shivering, dying, on the pavement.

I never wanted to be there again.

As if Nick knew what I was thinking, he raised an eyebrow at me and said, "You've felt the wrath of demon poison before. You know just how unbearable it is. This should be an easy decision for you."

I managed to roll away from him, facing the wall. "It's not my decision."

"Well, I like that even better."

"When are you planning to do this?" I asked, biting subconsciously at the pillowcase. My plan was going down the drain. How was I going to tell Lucie this? Vinny? How could I protect them when I was this hopeless? I had to think and I had to think quickly. Most of all my efforts had to be quiet, under Nick's radar.

"As soon as your blood samples are tested and we're sure the demons will be pleased," Nick responded, "we'll be opening that door. Humanity won't even see it coming."

I hesitated, letting the calm of the sudden silence cloak me, if only for a moment.

I thought of Lucie's smiling face, of Vinny's trusting hand in my own.

"And what did they do?" I asked, unable to keep the hurt out of my tone. "What did humans ever do to you, Nick?"

He didn't hesitate. When he spoke, his voice was acid, burning through the tension stacked in the room. "It's not man I resent.

"It's the heaven that rules them."