All Hell Breaks Loose (Razing Hell #4) - Cate Corvin Page 0,25

lock you in a room for your own safety. But I understand how appealing the idea is.”

The poor guy couldn’t stop beating himself up. I cupped his face in my hands, tracing the downturned edges of his lips with my thumbs. “You know I’d go on a hunger strike. Look at it this way… if you hadn’t been with me, my time would’ve been up. Instead of shouldering all the blame, just be glad you were there too.”

He closed his eyes, black lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. “I need you to keep your eyes open, Melisande. We can’t cover every window of possibility they might use. Just stay on your guard.”

I smiled despite myself. “Are you reading my mind now? I will. I should’ve told you about the feeling of being watched, but from here on out, I’m not going anywhere blind again.”

He let out an inaudible sigh, his shoulders slumping a little, and nodded.

I held back my own sigh. What else was there to do but keep my guard up? So much needed to be done, I couldn’t just be packed away in a box like fragile goods until it was all over. They knew I’d fight tooth and claw if they even tried to lock me up.

It was on my shoulders to take care of myself.

I felt an odd sensation in my abdomen, and took Belial’s hand, pressing it against my belly. “Sarai is in agreement.”

The feeling of a flipping goldfish strengthened for several frenzied minutes, and by the time she’d settled again, even Belial was smiling.

“Don’t be worried,” I breathed in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I won’t let anything happen to us.”

He embraced me in return, his arms looped around my waist. “I just have a dark feeling,” he said into my shoulder. “A feeling that the worst storm yet is looming on the horizon.”

“It’s just a feeling. It’s natural to feel that way.” Especially after all we’d gone through to get to this point.

Belial shook his head ever so slightly. “No. I’ve had these feelings before. It’s more of an instinctual premonition.” He looked up at me, eyes bleak. “And every single time, that instinct is right.”

I stared into his eyes, my heart pounding in my throat. Remembering the chill of foreboding I’d had while the High Priestess told me there was nothing to be done.

“Then we weather the storm. We’ll make it through. I promise.”

Later that night, I sat on my bed with the windows and curtains wide open, letting a breath of cool breeze blow through my room.

Some of the smog had finally burned off or been blown away, and for the first night in days, the Nightside was finally starting to smell the way it used to, but with only a hint of jasmine this time: many of the plants and trees were still shredded. Druids had been hard at work trying to bring them back, but there was only so much they could do.

I sat cross-legged, contemplating the odd sensations my body was developing as I meditated, pouring what was left of my healing white fire into my broken wing. I was close to being able to flex it without pain, but it would be another few weeks before I could trust it to bear my weight for a long journey.

Fortunately, the nausea had seemingly dissipated overnight. Last week, the oddest smells had made me want to throw up. Now I felt perfectly fine.

I frowned, wondering what unpleasant tricks my body would be playing on me next. If Vyra were here, she’d probably be full of answers and bringing in stacks of books, but…

I pushed the thought aside. We were coming for her.

And Lucifer… a twinge of anger and pain still accompanied the thought of him, but I couldn’t blame him, either. I loved him no matter what, through thick and thin, even though I would’ve appreciated his transparency and Azazel’s suspicions on the matter.

As though my thoughts had summoned the one closest to me, a dark shadow materialized at my window.

First an enormous beak, black as though it had been dipped in pitch, entered the room, followed by a mass of feathers that gave off wisps of smoke.

The giant raven shifted forms as it entered, the feathers vanishing and becoming a black suit with gleaming raven skulls at the lapels. One of them held my feather in place.

“Azazel,” I said, half-poised to jump off the bed. But his usually violet eyes were still gleaming with an

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