off the bottle and down it in one gulp.
“Excellent.” Isaac takes the bottle back, gazing at me with undisguised interest, like I’m a fascinating test subject. “You should be all set.”
“Thank you,” Ryland says. Some of the cold hardness has drained from his voice, and he actually sounds genuine. I’m in shock.
“Why don’t we have to take one?” Ford growls suspiciously.
“She’s the only one giving off an angelic signal,” Isaac points out. “This’ll dampen it. Screw with her heavenly nature so demons won’t come gunning for you right away.”
“How long will it last?” Beck asks, his shoulders tense.
“I’m not sure exactly. A day up here on Earth, but you know how time works on other planes.” Isaac shrugs. “I’d move as fast as possible. And it only dampens her signal. Doesn’t block it entirely. So…”
“Be careful,” Ryland finishes dryly.
Isaac gives him a big smile and a shrug.
We all go to stand in the circle, crowding together with me in the middle. It’s a tight fit, and I’m pretty sure that Isaac hasn’t ever tried to cram this many people or creatures into this circle before.
The sorcerer stretches his hands out, and I slide my own hands into Remi’s and Nix’s, squeezing tightly. Isaac has a strong, imperious voice, and I don’t understand any of the words coming out of his mouth, but they definitely sound authoritative.
I grip tight and close my eyes as a strange feeling washes over me, like a wave made of light. Then I’m being transported. It’s a lot more pleasant than when we transported to Brazil, but when the dizzying feeling of traveling through the ether fades, a wave of heat hits me.
It’s almost but not quite unbearable, the kind of heat that steals the breath from your lungs and clings to your skin and makes the inside of your mouth stick together. I don’t want to open my eyes—but I have to. I know I have to. One at a time, I pry my eyelids open and stare at the world around me.
We’re here.
“Shit,” Ford mutters.
We’ve landed not in the middle of nowhere like I was hoping but in the midst of what seems to be a large city. Tall, crooked spires made out of what looks like bone rise up around us, crumbling buildings covered in scorch marks with pikes at the base.
There are corrupted all around us, going about their business and walking down the street. Some of them stop and sniff the air, glancing over at us—as if they can sense my mark, sense my angelic nature.
Uh oh.
Chapter Ten
Beckett
My muscles tense.
Fuck.
I know Isaac doesn’t have precise control over where he sends people when he uses his portal to Below, but damn, this is bad.
All around me, I can feel my brothers reacting the same way I have, their gazes swinging left and right as they fall into a tight formation around Trinity, forming a physical wall around her. We’re all bigger than the petite little angel is, so if nothing else, we’ve at least blocked her from everyone’s sight.
But with her demon mark giving off even a low-level signal, will that be enough?
“Shit,” I mutter, sharing a look with Ryland. “We need to get her away from the crowds. Somewhere less populated. Now.”
He nods once and then veers sharply left down a side street. The rest of us follow smoothly, moving with unconscious coordination like a school of fish darting through the ocean.
My heart thuds in my chest, and I move a little closer to Trin—so close that my arm brushes against hers. I feel the tension in her body too, but the angel is tough as a warrior. She doesn’t cower or panic, but moves along with us, peering through the small gaps in the cluster of bodies around her to watch for any incoming threats.
This street is quieter, but it’s still too heavily populated. Too many corrupted walk past us, curious gazes tracking us as they turn their heads.
“This isn’t fuckin’ working,” Ford mutters, his voice thick with adrenaline and anger. “We need to fight. If we run and they catch on to us, they’ll get the jump on us. We should strike first. Only one side gets the element of surprise, and it better fuckin’ be us.”
“Shut up,” Ryland tells him in a clipped tone, turning down another street as we all pick up our pace.
“Fucking corrupted,” Ford growls.
His wrath seeps out of him, and I feel my own anger stirring as his magic fills the air around us.
Anger