Three voices chorused their shock and outrage. Raphael, having doubtlessly seen worse in his time as a healer, was silent.

My back wasn’t really much of a back anymore. I’d say, from the limited observations I’d forced myself to make in the mirror, that my flesh was more scar tissue than skin. They even wrapped around to my ribcage and hips. All not from the lash, but from the tip of my father’s legendary sword. He’d slice me open and then immediately cauterize the wounds so I wouldn’t bleed out. He could do it for hours, and hours, and hours. Sometimes he’d just burn me, to add to the pain and disfigurement.

Luckily for him, his children were extremely hardy. Had unbelievable pain thresholds. I rarely ever passed out during his brand of discipline. But, despite my advanced healing, the celestial sword left devastating damage on my flesh.

“I will rend his soul from his body.” Marcus’ voice was cold, so, so cold. Like death itself spoke through him.

“Raphael,” I prodded, and I heard the answering grunt. He stepped forward, but a crash had me whirling around.

Lucifer had Marcus by the back of the neck, preventing him from attempting to tear the healer’s head from his shoulders. He didn’t look angry, though. He looked icy. Calculating. Like a cold flame.

“Give me your back again, please,” Raphael requested calmly. “Ignore the scuffle.”

With a last lingering look at the frightening expression on Marcus’ face, I did as he asked.

I stiffened as gentle fingers skimmed over the puckered, mottled skin. The newer scars were almost numb, the nerves deadened and destroyed utterly. But the older ones, where the nerves had slowly healed, were sensitive and raw. Like skin that wasn’t quite ready to be exposed to air.

“Frater.” Raphael’s voice was lined with strain. “These are all from Michael’s sword. The newest ones…are only a month old.”

“You know as well as I that the only being who can wield my father’s sword is him,” I turned, accepting my sweater from Ammi’s kind hands, slipping it over my head. “He wasn’t killed that day in Heaven, but he did blame me for it. He held me for months, hurting me like this. Then I escaped, around a month ago.” I shrugged, “why did you think my siblings were after me en masse? They were following my father’s orders. Most would ignore me if he were no longer in the picture.”

“Why did he blame you for my actions?” Lucifer asked, releasing Marcus, who instantly glued himself to my side.

I smiled wryly, “because he’d ordered me to kill you. And you were still alive.”

Lucifer’s brows crashed downward thunderously. “He sent you to kill me?”

Oh crud, was he mad that I attempted to kill him? Or, rather, that I had thought about it? That it had even entered my mind that killing my uncle and the King of Hell was in the realm of possibility?

“You. My brother sent you, to kill me. Me?” Lucifer’s feathers ruffled, and I finally understood.

“Oh my Charles, Wings, are your feelings hurt?” Ammi looked positively gleeful at the prospect.

Did…was that a blush I saw?

“No. No. I just think it’s a little ridiculous, is all.”

I didn’t blame him.

“Father was sure I could do it, and, when I knew him, he was never wrong.” I shook my head slowly. “But you were the most ambitious target I’d ever been given. I didn’t think I could, so I finally gave into temptation and ran. And then, after the battle of Heaven…”

After the battle of Heaven, he’d found me.

I cleared my throat, “Well, anyway, he blamed me for the fact that you were there in the first place. Without you there, that battle…”

“Would’ve ended very differently,” Marcus finished grimly. I nodded agreement.

The room rang with silence, each occupant undoubtedly running the different scenarios in their head. Every single one of them ended poorly for the side of Hell. Lucifer was the key piece in the fight, and they knew it, just as my father had. Had all the pieces fallen into place, had I done what was asked of me, and somehow succeeded, every person in this room would’ve been obliterated.

“So, you’re the reason we won, in a roundabout sort of way, huh?” Ammi broke the silence, as she was wont to do.

“You weren’t even there, A,” Marcus scoffed, “in what world is there a ‘we’ here?”

“Hey, I was there in spirit, right Wings?” The other woman cast a minorly threatening glance up to her massive mate.

Uncowed, and, likely happy about her change of mood, Lucifer smirked. Shrugging, he snarked, “I don’t remember seeing you there.”

With an outraged gasp, Ammi abandoned him to stand by me, huffing under her breath, “You miss one heavenly battle…”

“Can we focus on the issue at hand?” Raphael snapped, every line in his body written with tension. “Michael is still alive, and he wants to see to it that none of us, not a single one of us, are left alive. And Meg, as well.”

I could correct him, but I felt it would only stir more panic.

My father did want my Champion and the angels dead. But Amirykal and I…well, if he got his hands on me, he wouldn’t make it quick. And Ammi…we’d both wish we were long dead, should it come to that. And Meg was far too useful to kill. I’d seen her power up close. No way would father sacrifice an asset like that.

“Obviously, I need to be more thorough this time,” Lucifer growled, murder flashing across his harsh face.

I almost laughed out loud. As if sensing this, he turned to me, eyebrows raised.

“If you were to catch him in a pitched battle, you’d have no problem,” I agreed placatingly, “but you and I know that. Everyone in this room knows that. And my father definitely knows that. So, you won’t be given the chance. Say what you will about my father, but he’s a planner.”

“Well, we have Marc, and he’s a military good strategist, right?” The waver in Ammi’s voice was back, as if she was doing her very best to hold herself together. On an impulse, I hesitantly laced my fingers through hers. She smiled gratefully at me, gripping it back.

Marcus sighed, shaking his head. “I am…a decent strategist, at best. I had a good teacher, but I am not meant for war. Luce is an effective blunt-force weapon, and Raphael is a healer with some skill in combat.” He ran an aggravated hand through his thick hair. “And, remember, Ammi, if it weren’t for Kaiah, we would have been slaughtered in Heaven. Michael’s abilities far surpass mine.”

There was somber silence once again.