anguished whisper was pulled from the depths of his soul.
There was no one better at killing than him. He was a master assassin who’d killed angels, demons, vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of paranormal creatures. The one person he’d tried to save, the woman who’d wormed her way into his black heart, he’d failed.
Hatred bled through him like black oil, coating every cell in his body. He wanted to kill Lucifer and Gabriel. Wanted the world to burn. Needed the screams of his enemies singing in his ears while he bathed in their blood.
The remaining sliver of his soul quivered. This was it. This was his end. He’d become the monster he’d always feared.
Panting hard, he clung to his sanity with a tenacity that surprised even him. She’d given her life for him. He could not allow himself to become someone she wouldn’t be able to love.
She truly loved him.
It was a revelation. It was his salvation.
When he’d been cast from Heaven, he’d asked for nothing. All the years he’d been banished to Hell, he’d asked for nothing. The long, lonely thousands of years on earth, he’d asked for nothing.
He was asking now. On his knees in a dirty alley with Morrigan in his arms, he raised his head to the heavens.
“My life for hers.”
Nothing happened. It was quiet, as though the entire universe had taken a breath and was holding it. He shouldn’t be surprised. Heaven and Hell had gone unchecked for tens of thousands of years. There was no reason for anything to change now.
Maccus lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. So be it. He’d have to do it the same way he’d done everything else in his life—alone.
Except for the few days he’d spent with Morrigan, his entire existence had been solitary. Even as an angel, he’d never truly fit with the rest. Maybe that was why Gabriel had taken his wings.
A single tear rolled down his face and fell on hers. It slipped along her lips and disappeared into her mouth.
“Is he crying?” Lucifer asked Gabriel. “He is.”
The two of them laughed.
Rage threatened to consume him. His entire body shook with the effort to contain it, but he pulled it back. Not for them. Never for them. But for Morrigan. And for humanity. Because if he slipped into madness, he’d kill millions before his anger was slaked.
She wouldn’t want that for him.
He shifted position so he was facing his adversaries. Unwilling to release Morrigan, he remained on his knees with her resting against them. She deserved so much better than to die in a dirty alleyway. In spite of the life she’d been dealt, she’d been all that was kind and good.
Her soul was no longer tied to Lucifer, so it would be in Heaven. If she’d gone to Hell, he could have gone after her. But she was in Gabriel’s realm now. And Maccus didn’t trust the archangel not to find a way to torture her or somehow send her soul to Hell.
It was up to him to save her. Heaven was closed to him as a fallen angel. But there was still a tiny sliver of grace left inside him, the angel’s version of a soul.
Maccus manifested a knife for each hand.
“Is he raging?” Lucifer was more than a little annoyed. “Why isn’t he raging? Isn’t this the part where he becomes a monster and kills people so both Heaven and Hell can sanction him?”
“Give it time,” Gabriel told him. “You’re always so impatient.”
All this so they could get rid of him. “You could have left me alone. I have no interest in you or your realms.” They couldn’t understand that not everyone had their ambition.
Maccus had only one hope. He sent up a final prayer, sure it was falling on deaf ears. If what remained of his grace made it back to Heaven, maybe, just maybe he would be able to find Morrigan’s soul and protect her.