them up, lifting them into the air, and dropping them to the ground. Men and women lay bloody on the concrete floor of the moat, some screaming in agony, others unconscious or dead.
Pushing through the smoke, he and Evangeline found a metal staircase that brought them down past the second- and third-level cells. The smoke grew thicker as they descended; the chaos Verlaine had witnessed from above grew harder to navigate as he moved into it. Evangeline’s hand was small and cold in his. He held it tight, as if she might disappear into the smoke.
Together they hurried toward the tunnel exit, stepping over creatures that had collapsed, their bodies trampled and broken. Verlaine could feel Evangeline hesitate. Men in uniforms lay in pools of blood on the concrete floor, some with their guns still in hand. The guards had been slaughtered while fighting to keep the creatures from escaping. The great iron security door began to roll closed.
“They are trying to contain the angels,” Evangeline said.
Verlaine held his hand over his mouth and nose, but it was impossible to breathe without taking in the thick chemical fumes. Another explosion sent shards of glass through the air. Within an instant, the panopticon plunged into darkness.
“There go the lights,” Verlaine said. Although he had no way of knowing for sure, he had a terrible feeling that the nuclear reactors were connected to the panopticon’s power source.
Evangeline’s hand slipped from his grasp. He stumbled forward, trying to reach her. “Evangeline,” he called, but the noise had become deafening as thousands of creatures stampeded past.
“I’m here, above you,” she said, and he saw, floating in the darkness, a concentration of brilliant light.
Verlaine blinked, coaxing his eyes to look at her hovering like a hummingbird overhead. The dome of the panopticon filled with a strange, warm light. It seemed to him as if the sun had been captured and concentrated into a single point. Evangeline could not possibly be a Nephil, nor a descendant of a lower order of angel, nor any of the common creatures serving the Nephilim. She was not one of the Anakim, Mara, Golobians, or Gibborim. It was such a simple truth that he was astonished he hadn’t understood it before: No angelologist could possibly gauge how far the Nephilim had fallen from grace until beholding the beauty of a pure angel.
“We need to find an exit tunnel that hasn’t been blocked,” Verlaine called up to her. “If the nuclear reactor is affected, this is going to be a death trap. If we don’t find an open tunnel, we’ll die here.”
“Maybe there’s another way out,” Evangeline said.
Verlaine looked up, trying to imagine her perspective. She was at the top of the structure. “Can you see something from up there?” he shouted.
Evangeline swooped close and Verlaine grabbed hold of her without giving it a moment’s thought. She flew fast and reckless through the panopticon, rising up and falling back, as if she were afloat on a stormy sea. Verlaine clung to her, overwhelmed by the pure adrenaline of losing contact with the ground. The thrill of their ascent made him giddy. He wanted to hold Evangeline closer, to move as her body moved, to fly higher and higher with her. He was sure that all of the thoughts and all of the desires that he’d ever felt had collected in his heart at that moment. It didn’t matter what happened, as long as he was with Evangeline.
Another explosion ruptured through the panopticon, sending a cascade of fire in their path. Evangeline dipped and rose, and Verlaine felt breathless as he lost hold of Evangeline’s body. He fell, reaching for something solid to grasp, his hands flailing in the air. Before he had a chance to call her name, Evangeline appeared, her green eyes sharp, her body as bright as the sun as she swooped underneath and caught him. He never wanted to let her go.
He looked at her in wonder. There was a profound serenity in her features and—despite the fact that she was much stronger than him and had just saved his life—a gentleness he admired.
“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear. “I owe you one.”
“I wouldn’t let you fall,” she said. “Ever.”
They flew to the ground and he stepped away from her, examining her among the ruins of the panopticon. In the smoke, with her wings retracted, she looked almost human.
“Can you see?” he asked, gesturing toward a tunnel. “Can we get out that way?”
Evangeline nodded. “It’s open,” she