Page 122 of Hell’s Weapon

“The telepathy?” I ask.

“Yes, I’ve been watching them for the last ten minutes. They seem to be communicating to those in the sky and others beyond the portal.”

“The Angels already here are untrained, sloppy.”

“You think they’ve been sent in as a test?”

I recite my theory, “I was thinking they were a distraction, but maybe they are testing our strengths.”

“Distraction from what?”

“I’m not sure.” I fill Garrick in on my brief questioning of the Angel I caught.

Suddenly one of the Angels in the group starts screaming. They drop to their knees and clutch their chest. Their eyes fly open. “He shoved me out. He’s too strong.”

“Try again. Tell me where he is,” one of the commander’s bellows.

“He?” I ask, the fear I’d had earlier returning full force. “Does he mean Milo?”

“Possibly,” Garrick replies, his lips setting into a grim line.

I pull my knife, ready to send it straight into the chest of the Angel trying to connect to my human. Garrick grabs my wrist before I can let it fly.

“Let me kill him,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Not yet. You heard him. If it is Milo they’re trying to connect to, they failed.”

“But surely their magic is stronger if they’re on the same plane. If they enter his head and see–”

“I know.” Garrick’s eyes pierce into mine.

“If they’re forcing their way into his head, I saw how distressed–”

“I know,” Garrick repeats. “You don’t think that I know how you’re going to plead with Hades to spare Milo because he didn’t show them everything?”

“So let me ensure he doesn’t betray us.”

Before we can argue any further, the ground shakes as a thunderous bang detonates, and the building at our backs shatters.

Chapter 39

Milo

Fuck my head hurts. Blinding white pain lances from the backs of my eyes through to the top of my spine. Sitting cross-legged on Garrick’s bed, I push my palms into my eye sockets in an attempt to ease the pressure.

They’re trying to access my mind. I’m shaking with the effort to hold them out, they’re so much stronger now they’re here.

Wyatt sits beside me, one hand gently stroking my back. The warmth of his touch grounds me as another dizzying wave of pain sends tremors across my body.

“Tell me how I can help, Sweetheart.” His voice is soft, and he sounds distant.

I shake my head slowly, my brain still rattling from the movement. There’s nothing he can do. Although, I’m glad he’s here and that my secret is finally out in the open. I just hope that Tacita comes back without injury from the battle clearly being fought right now with the clashing and shouting coming from outside.

Wyatt is antsy, I can tell he wants to go and help take out some of the Angels himself. But he hasn’t moved from my side since Garrick and our girl left.

The pain eases as the most recent wave recedes and I’m able to lift my head and seek my boyfriend's eyes. They’re laced with concern, but also something else, something warm.

“Thank you,” I manage to tell him with a herculean effort.