Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,19

his breath. “Never quite heard them described like that, but I get what you’re saying. There’s necessary evil in the world, right? A balance between good and bad that must be kept so that the agreement between God and Lucifer is honored. As long as everyone stays in their lane, it is what it is.”

Dez was right. Demons were a necessity and they also served a purpose. They were the embodiment of the forbidden fruit. Their whispers, gifts and manipulations were all a test that every human faced. Demons caused humans to exercise free will. To do right or to do wrong. To make lemonade out of lemons or to raise holy Hell. To forgive or to seek vengeance. To be the one who lends a helping hand or to be the one who punches down. To educate or to misinform. To love or to hate. To be a part of the solution or part of the problem. To keep on the path to eternal righteousness or to be led astray, into eternal damnation.

There was a whole world of gray in between each of those things, and it was what people did in that gray area that determined where they ended up.

The problem was that many demons didn’t stay in their lanes. There were the ones who were ordered to stay in Hell, but came topside, like Ravers, Nightcrawlers and others that couldn’t possibly pass as human. Then there were the Upper Level demons, and they almost never paid any respect to that balance.

I also doubted Roth or Cayman stayed in their lane.

But whatever.

I wasn’t here for them.

I was supposed to be here for the Harbinger. The archangel Gabriel, who dropped a nuclear bomb on that fragile balance. But right now? I was here for Zayne.

Dez and I traveled around the National Mall for quite some time, and it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. It hurt to think that Zayne had planned on giving me a tour, taking me to the museums and such, but this was how I was being introduced to the Mall.

But it could still happen, and besides, it wasn’t like I could see anything beyond a few feet in front of me and general shapes. I could always pretend I hadn’t been here, because with each minute that turned into ten, it became clear that Zayne wasn’t here.

Which left only the bars and clubs—where humans would be gathering. According to Dez, we had less than an hour before they closed.

I didn’t even want to ask why Dez had thought a Fallen would seek out humans, but I had to when we arrived at Dupont Circle, where the streets were lit by signs and the steady stream of headlights.

“Why do you think a Fallen would be drawn to the same area as a demon?” I kept close to Dez as we passed several packed bars, continuously scanning for doors randomly opening and stumbling drunks who would have more trouble than me when it came to navigating the sidewalk.

“There’s not a lot of info out there about the Fallen,” Dez said as I noticed a cluster of laughing girls headed down the sidewalk. “But I do remember what made God go after them.”

“Besides producing nephilim offspring every five seconds, and I honestly don’t see how that was such a big deal, because hello.”

“Thought you didn’t like that term.”

“I don’t.”

I thought he grinned, because the giggling group of girls we passed went completely silent as they stared up at him. He didn’t seem to notice. “That I can’t answer, but the Fallen were drawn to humans in the same ways demons are. When they were still fully certified heavenly angels, they worked alongside man to achieve a better way of life, but once they Fell, they used their charisma and charm to...well, revel in sin.”

My stomach soured. I didn’t want to even think about Zayne reveling in sin. “Did fallen angels have the same kind of talents as some of the Upper Level demons?”

He hesitated, and I knew that was my answer. “I believe so.”

Oh God.

Upper Level demons could sway people into doing all kinds of disturbing things with just their words alone.

My gaze crept toward an all-night coffee shop. There were a few people sitting at the bistro tables inside and a handful in line. Two young men headed for the door, Styrofoam cups in hand. Behind them, a child too young to be out at this time of night trailed after them. He was too