Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
He was the seventh member of the cult, whom he’d sworn to chase down and kill along with the others.
Gabriel collapsed to the grand leather seat behind the desk like a puppet with its strings cut off. “Do you still want to kill them?” he whispered, stroking the smooth bone blade.
Abaddon swallowed the tightness in his throat and followed Gabriel out of the secret room, shutting the bookcase behind him. “The only thing I want more is to make you happy.”
“That’s impossible. Before we met, I was able to just drift through existing like a lifeless piece of wood without a heart. Now I just want to die.” Gabriel hid his face in his hands. “But I want them gone first. Even if you get to live. I don’t even think I’m scared anymore. I want to see them all dead, including your fucking mother.”
Even if you get to live.
Gabriel’s love for Abaddon had wilted within the span of minutes, leaving him empty inside.
“She’s not my mother,” Abaddon said through clenched teeth, shuddering with revulsion.
Gabriel looked up at him, grabbed the missing poster he’d previously held, and pushed the dagger right through Adam Benson’s face. “This claims otherwise. You knew all along that you weren’t going to Heaven or Hell, and you twisted my heart in your fingers, then ripped it apart. You are a demon.”
Abaddon snapped and slammed both his hands on the desk. “I didn't! I don’t fucking know what’s going on! All I do know is that they need to die!”
Gabriel’s face was blank when their eyes met. “So at least we agree on one thing.”
18
GABRIEL
Under the numbness inside Gabriel throbbed an anger unlike anything he’d ever experienced—not even the fury at those who’d tortured him and gaslighted him for years. His whole body felt like a wound that would never close. And worse yet, his ass was still tender, like a cruel reminder of Abaddon’s betrayal.
The reality that for the past weeks had been so mystical and even pushed him back into churchgoing was now once again bleak and mundane. There was no angel to save him. And despite Abadd—Adam and him sharing a common goal, the lying bastard could turn against Gabriel on a whim. Adam wouldn’t be taken to Heaven for his killings. Nor would he be sent to Hell if he didn’t finish the job. Because, just like Gabriel, he was only a man.
What should have been a joyful revelation—after all, it meant Adam wasn’t going anywhere—was instead both a stab in the back and in the heart. His overheated mind was starting to fail him, so he removed the hoodie, remaining in a T-shirt.
Adam was a liar, a murderer, and fuck knew what he’d been up to for the past ten years. What he wasn’t, was Gabriel’s beloved angel.
“Gabriel, please… I don’t understand any of it,” Adam said, jogging along the corridor to catch up with him after locking the office.
Every stained glass image took on a sinister shape as they passed. Every breath Gabriel took, hurt like inhaling razors. Every heartbeat seemed to extend his suffering beyond what a person could take.
This man, whom he’d allowed inside his own body in more ways than one, had lied to him and continued gaslighting him even in the face of proof.
“Stop lying to me. You know exactly why you’re here, and won’t tell me.”
Adam shushed him and took two steps ahead to force Gabriel into meeting his gaze in the dark. “No! How was I to lie if I know nothing about this?” he asked, clutching at the front of his T-shirt. He leaned down, which prompted Gabriel to look away and change his course so he could storm past the bastard on the way to the nearest staircase.
“No wonder killing came so easily to you. You’ve seen it happen many times,” he said, rubbing his shoulders when it occurred to him that Adam could have murdered him too. So what had stopped him from getting rid of an inconvenient witness? Had he realized he could use a gullible accomplice?
“No! I’m not a killer!”
Gabriel thought he’d never laugh again after the revelations in Father John’s office, yet there he was, chuckling. “We both know that’s not true. Did you get sick of your revolting minions and decided you needed to upgrade to a new set? Are you trying to pull me into this madness?”
“My ‘minions’?” Adam asked in a loud whisper. “I’m clearly in my twenties and have been a teenager when those photos were taken! What the hell are you talking about?”
Gabriel stopped and spread his arms. “I don’t know! I want it to be over. I don’t want to hurt anymore. It’s still early. We could go to your mommy first, since she doesn’t live here, and then come back to deal with Father John and Sister Beatrice.” His own voice sounded like droning, and he was sick of it. He wished to never speak again.