It kills me to see my baby sister slip her small hand into his.
Doc was right. Somewhere in me, I clung to the hope that he was off his rocker. But seeing her turn to a demon like Beliel only reminds me how horrible it must have been for her to be with the rest of us.
Paige looks up at him. Her neck strains as she meets his eyes. Holding hands like that, they could almost be father and daughter.
Beliel partially opens his stolen wings and holds up Paige’s hand as he turns to smile at Uriel. His smile says, See? Look at my trophies.
Paige tugs his arm so that Beliel ends up leaning down toward her. For a second, I think she might give him a kiss. The thought makes my stomach roil.
Instead, she leaps and bites into his neck.
She shakes her head like a rabid dog as a chunk of his neck comes ripping off in her mouth.
Beliel shrieks.
Blood flows everywhere.
Uriel and his entourage jump back from the attack. Everyone else just stops in the middle of whatever they’re doing and stares.
The buzzing above gets more frantic as the swarm of scorpions twists in the distance and heads back for another flyby. Hadn’t the scorpions been following Beliel’s commands all this time? Will they be angry?
Paige spits out the still attached piece of flesh and grabs Beliel’s head before he can pull out of her reach. She rips into his face.
Three scorpions dive toward them from the sky.
I gasp, thinking they are attacking Paige.
But instead, they grab Beliel.
Their stingers zap in and out, pumping him full of paralysis venom.
Instead of finishing him off, Paige begins kicking him. Screams at him. Rips out clumps of his hair and skin. She tears out chunks of his flesh and spits them into his face.
And all the while, she is crying.
I am mesmerized by the sight of my little sister raging against Beliel. He’s no small opponent, but she caught him utterly by surprise.
I have never seen a seven-year-old with this much fury. I’ve certainly never seen Paige with anything like this much anger. She pummels him with her tiny fists in a way that I know is more about dealing with her internal demons than about the demon that is Beliel.
It feels like my heart chars and turns to crumbling ash as I watch the remnants of my sister. Salty wetness touches my lips before I even realize I’m crying.
The ocean wind blows against me, making me shiver like a frail petal in a storm.
RAFFE RUNS along the cliff toward Beliel and dives toward a scorpion. He grabs it just before it’s about to plunge its talon-like fingers into Beliel’s back.
At first, I’m confused. Why is Raffe protecting Beliel?
But as the blood trickles from Beliel’s neck onto his snowy wings, I understand. Raffe deflects Paige’s hands from ripping out a fistful of feathers.
Instead, she grabs Beliel’s hair and tears it out. White feathers puff out as the group wrestles.
While Raffe, Beliel, Paige and three scorpions fight, the angels on the lawn watch curiously. They don’t seem inclined to jump in to save Beliel. My guess is that those who’ve met him don’t like him, and those who haven’t might sense that he doesn’t belong with them.
Raffe’s mask is still on his face but he’s not the only one still in costume. No one takes notice of me, as if the humans they were so focused on just a few hours ago don’t really matter now.
I glance around to see if there’s anything I can slink back behind. There is nothing unless I’m willing to hide behind a bush that’s too far away for me to see anything. Nearby, there’s only the ocean, cliff, grass, and torchlights.
The trickle of angels quickly turns into a flood. The oddity of it must be fueling their curiosity. They crowd in and jostle me. Late-coming angel spectators have to take to the air to see the action.
Above us, a cloud of scorpions dips and dives, approaching, then receding like a hive of bees agitating around their nest.
I end up on the inner edge of the wall of bodies. So much for not bringing attention to ourselves. I stroke the soft fur of my teddy bear sword, trying to stay calm.
Beliel’s tortured screams fill the night.
Everyone watches as he gets mercilessly torn and stung. Aside from Raffe, who is only protecting his wings, not a single living thing comes to his aid. No one even cringes sympathetically for him.
Beliel was right. He is unloved and unwanted.
Paige, who has been panting and crying over Beliel finally looks up and seems to notice the angels for the first time. Even in this light, I can see the fear and uncertainty dawning on her face as her eyes move from coldhearted warrior to warrior.
The angels are partially lit by torches, looking savage with red-tinged shadows flickering along their faces.
Her eyes pause when she sees me. She blinks several times as if unsure that it’s me. Her face scrunches up, giving the eerie illusion that the stitched-up monster melts away from her face, leaving a terribly upset Paige in its wake.
She looks the way she did in the video in Beliel’s cell—tiny, alone, lost. A little kid trying to hang onto the belief that her big sister will come and save her.
I extend my arms out toward her, realizing how long it’s been since I’ve touched her. She’s not the same Paige that I knew but I can’t write her off as a monster, either. If we’re all going down, at least I’ll be able to comfort my baby sister in the last few moments of our lives.
Paige drops her gaze and looks unsure of herself. Tears leave track marks in the blood on her face.
I step into the center circle and walk over to her. Her crying intensifies as I get nearer. When I reach her, she wraps her arms around my waist as tight as can be.
My little sister looks up at me.
Mom was right. Her eyes are the same as they’ve always been. Brown eyes fringed with long lashes and steeped with the memory of sweetness and light, laughter and joy—trapped in this mangled, corpse-like face.
“It’s all right, baby girl,” I whisper into her hair as I hug her. “I’m here. I came for you.”
Her face crumples and her eyes shine. “You came for me.”
I stroke her hair. It’s as silky as ever.
AT RAFFE’S FEET, Beliel lies on the dirt. He bleeds through gashes, bites, and missing chunks. The three scorpions latch their mouths onto his open wounds and begin to suck him dry like enormous leeches with stingers.
Beliel yells, clumsily batting away the scorpions with the last of his energy.
Beliel’s skin becomes parched and begins to crinkle. Soon, I know he’ll shrivel and his flesh will look like beef jerky.
Raffe glances at the angels watching them, then back at Beliel’s shriveling skin. Even with his mask, I can tell he doesn’t want to do anything drastic in front of the angels. But he can’t let his wings be sucked dry and shrivel. And even if he could get these scorpions off Beliel, more could come down from the sky.
He spreads one of Beliel’s stolen wings and holds it firmly in one hand. From his waistband, he pulls out the kitchen knife he took from the beach house. It reflects the torch flames as he raises it, just before he swings down with the blade.