Chapter 1
Lute awoke slowly, as if her mind was being gradually guided back towards consciousness. As her eyelids fluttered open, she felt groggy and disoriented, confused but not in a panicked way. The bliss of a restful, dreamless sleep still cradled her mind in its embrace. The exorcist’s eyes swept around the room she was in, and her brows furrowed when she realized that she didn’t recognize her surroundings at all.
She sat up. For starters, she had been sleeping on a bed that most certainly wasn’t her own. A simple but warm tan quilt covered her body, and her head had rested on an astoundingly fluffy cream-colored pillow. In her room in the barracks, she, like all of the other exorcists, slept on a plain mattress. Comfort wasn’t exactly a soldier’s priority.
Lute continued to explore her surroundings with her eyes. The stone walls were quite clearly built by hand, but undeniably aesthetic. The floor was made of wooden planks that looked like they might be oak. A stove, table, chair, and cot were spread around the room as well. Absurdly vast windows granted Lute a sliver of insight as to her location – somewhere in a forest. Densely packed evergreen trees were visible just outside.
Where was she? And, arguably more importantly, where was Ad–
It was like a slap to the face.
No.
No. That couldn’t be true. There was no way he was really… He couldn’t be.
He was probably waiting for her back in the barracks, right? He’d greet her with his usual fist bump or slap on the ass, depending on the mood he was in, and some kind of silly lewd comment. She could picture it so clearly in her mind, opening her door and seeing him lean against her bunk as he always did.
All she had to do was get back to the barracks, and she would see him. Feel his warmth when she hugged him. He would be there, and he would be alive, she told herself fiercely.
Her throat felt like it was closing up. Lute wheezed and clawed at her chest, as if there was some way she could rip her lungs open and be able to breathe again. Something felt wrong, though.
She only felt the sensation of one hand raking across her chest.
She looked down toward her left shoulder and could only stare in shock, the stubby appendage wrapped in off-white gauze and stained with liquid gold.
For a moment, her mind went blank. This was probably the worst injury she had ever acquired, despite her lengthy career. She’d sustained more flesh wounds than she could count, a handful of fractures and sprains, too, but she had always managed a full recovery, sooner or later. This, though? She wasn’t a fucking lizard, she couldn’t regenerate limbs. She tried to keep her mind in the present, but was swallowed by her memories from the battle.
Trapped underneath the rubble. Glaring up at Vaggie, the fucking traitorous bitch, before that sin-corrupted whore had flown off to save her lover. Lute knew she was wasting valuable time as she struggled helplessly underneath the stones, twisting and trying to kick. She had to help Adam and her sisters-in-arms win this battle. If they failed, what would keep Hell from rising up against Heaven? You have to do this for them, she had thought silently, then, Remember what you’ve always told yourself? If it ever comes to their survival or yours, you don’t matter. They will always come first. Lute had gritted her teeth and braced her palm on the block of stone that was pinning her left arm.
A wave of nausea yanked Lute back to the present and she recoiled, screwing her eyes shut tightly, but the sudden image of Adam, eyes sliding shut as he lay in a spreading puddle of angelic blood, seared into her mind.
She screamed.