Rage and Ruin by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,183

the humans,” Gabriel went on as I slid my hand to my hip, my fingers unhooking the dagger sheathed there. “You took the purity of a soul and the honor of free will and threw them away.”

I rose to my knees, lifting my head as I felt blood trickle out of the corner of my mouth. “I didn’t throw away anything.”

“You’re wrong. No human soul, not even my son’s, is clean or worthy of saving.”

“Wow.” My fingers tightened on the hilt of the dagger. “Father of the year right here.”

“At least I’ll be there when he dies,” he said. “Will Michael be able to say the same?”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “But I don’t care.”

Surprise rolled over Gabriel’s face, and I saw my window of opportunity. My chance to gain the upper hand and get the Hell out of here, with Roth and Cayman, somehow.

Shooting to my feet, I slammed the dagger deep into Gabriel’s chest. I knew it wouldn’t kill him, but it had to hurt. It had to—

The archangel looked down at his chest. “That stung.”

I jerked the dagger out, eyes widening in disbelief as I saw no blood—

I didn’t see the blow coming.

Gabriel backhanded me, sending me down to the dirt. Stars sparked in my vision. My ears rang. He grabbed my wrist, snatching the dagger from my hand.

“That was embarrassing,” he said, tossing it to the ground. “You’re nothing but a flawed waste of grace, Trinity. Give it up. I can make the next couple of weeks peaceful for you, or I can make them a constant waking nightmare. It is your choice.”

When he let go of my hand, I fell back. My gaze blanked out on me for a moment.

Get up.

“In the end, you’re nothing but flesh and bone,” he said. “Dying from the day you were born.”

Get up.

“It’s all rather revolting, how the human race aids in its own decay.”

Get up.

“Your rage. Your selfishness. Your basic human emotions. All of it corrupts what should never have been given to humans.”

The bond in my chest burned, and I knew Zayne was coming. He was close. Too close.

Get up.

Get up before he gets here.

“You’re right. I am flesh. I am flawed. I am selfish, but I am also grace.” I spat out a mouthful of blood, and from the rage and the ruin, I rose onto my feet. “I have heavenly fire in my blood. I have a human soul, and that is something you will never have.”

The archangel drew back.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you hate God. That’s why you want to destroy everything. It’s not to make it better. It’s not to end suffering, you lunatic. All of this is because you don’t have a soul.” I laughed, stumbling backward, summoning my grace. It sputtered and then arrived, the handle almost too heavy for me to hold. “You’re a walking cliché, and you dare to insult the aspirations of humans?”

“You know nothing.” He stalked forward, and I saw Roth sit up in his human form. Sulien pushed off the wall.

“You forgot to add ‘Jon Snow’ at the end of that statement.”

He halted, head cocked. “What?”

I swung, aiming for the largest part of him. My grace could and would kill him. I would end this, because it was my duty.

Gabriel grabbed my right arm just above my elbow and twisted. The crack was so sudden, so shocking, that there was a brief second where I felt nothing. And then I screamed. The red-hot shock of pain fried my senses. I lost my grace. The sword collapsed in on itself as I tried to breathe through the pain.

His foot connected with my shin, snapping the bone there, and I couldn’t even scream as I hit the ground on one knee, couldn’t even breathe around the fire that seemed to engulf my entire leg. He gripped me by the scruff of my neck and lifted me. I clutched at his arm with my good hand and kicked out as I saw Sulien grab Roth.

It happened in a matter of heartbeats. Seconds. Brutal, unending seconds when I realized I couldn’t defeat an archangel. This was never a battle I could win, and in the distant part of my mind that functioned above the pain, I wondered if my father had known that and sent me out for the slaughter.

Roth would die.

So would Cayman.

I’d be taken, and the world as we knew it would end, and maybe my father and God didn’t care about what would happen. Their attempts