Rather than killing him, the wildfire appeared to have ameliorated a little of the damage Lijuan had done. Get him to safety. As helpless as Astaad was now, Lijuan might come back to finish him off. Eli, protect Astaad and Jason.

The Archangel of South America took up an escort position—and the former general did something clever. He began to fire his power erratically around them, where it would either hit enemy troops or go into clear air. It made it nearly impossible for Lijuan to appear nearby—she’d have to risk being hit by one of Elijah’s bolts. It wouldn’t badly hurt her, not the way she was now, but the delay while she dealt with the shock would give Raphael time to drown her in wildfire.

Shooters and soldiers armed with flamethrowers had already begun laying down fire around the Tower. Again, Lijuan could survive that, but it might leave her vulnerable for a moment. The Tower guard paused only long enough for Jason to get through with Astaad, and Elijah to clear the area, before starting up again. Elijah continued to fire around him as he returned to battle, but no archangel could keep that up nonstop, especially when fighting against Lijuan’s army.

Obsidian fire was now erupting not only from the hands of the generals, but others. Lijuan had to be bloated indeed to be fueling so many subordinates.

Titus was Lijuan’s next target—but he reacted with warrior speed to smash his splinted arm into her face. Blood splurted and she was gone. Only to suddenly be behind Aegaeon. Raphael shouted out a warning. Illium’s father ignored the obsidian rain coming at him from her forces and sliced both blades backward into her stomach, wrenching up.

Lijuan turned noncorporeal as her gown became drenched in red, even as Aegaeon took a massive number of blows from the generals. He began to fall, his wings shredded. Aodhan slammed into him, slowing his descent enough to bring him to a softer landing on a rooftop. It had been a risk on Aodhan’s part that he’d become infected but it looked like the subordinates’ fire wasn’t infectious. Only Lijuan’s.

He left Aegaeon on the rooftop, where the Ancient managed to get himself to a position near the archers. Though the generals had done significant damage, he continued to fight, while his body dealt with the obsidian. Courage had never been Aegaeon’s problem. Not far in the distance, Neha destroyed three of Lijuan’s generals in a single precision strike with the vivid green of her poison whip.

Raphael! Look out!

He blocked the shards of starlight obsidian dropping at him from the sky, only for Lijuan to repeat the attack again and again. He couldn’t allow even one of the shards to burrow into him, not now she’d fed on two archangels, had to waste precious power maintaining the shield.

She was trying to wear him out. And hugely bloated with power, she was going to succeed. Then Michaela shifted position without warning—and ended up face-to-face with Lijuan. The Archangel of China had obviously meant to appear behind Michaela. No hesitation, no thought, Michaela blasted Lijuan with her power point-blank.

Raphael targeted the Archangel of China with a massive jolt of wildfire at the same time.

It punched through her entire system, turning her skin into a pattern of broken light but she was nowhere near down. She directed a hail of starlight obsidian shards directly at Michaela before going noncorporeal again. Michaela dropped and Lijuan’s poison smashed into a skyscraper that was already half destroyed.

“Why won’t the fucking bitch die?” Michaela’s scream of frustration rent the air.

But they had no time for discussion, for frustration, because Lijuan had reappeared behind Alexander. She had her mouth on his neck before anyone could react, but she’d made a miscalculation. Illium was right beside Alexander and sliced off one of Lijuan’s arms before she had any warning of what was to come.

As the severed limb fell to the ground, she disengaged from Alexander with a sound that was ten thousand screams in their minds. And went noncorporeal again.

Alexander?

I’m a little weaker, but she didn’t get much, barely a sip.

Sweaty and bloody, they fought on. Raphael wasn’t the least surprised when Lijuan reappeared with a whole arm only five minutes later. This time, she didn’t attempt to feed—she aimed a bolt directly at Illium, her face wreathed in malevolence.

Illium twisted with speed, but even Bluebell’s agility wasn’t enough to fully avoid the blow. It went through the tip of one wing and began to spread blackness over his wing in a rapid surge. Illium wasn’t an archangel. His body had no defenses. Raphael was too far from him and Lijuan was now raining her power down at his troops in a merciless hail that would murder and destroy if he didn’t stop her.

He put up a wildfire shield.

Despite taking a catastrophic hit, Illium did the impossible. He went straight at Lijuan and slammed his favorite sword, Lightning, through her heart. She and the sword disappeared even as his wing blackened—but there was a flicker in her disappearance this time. He’d got the heart itself, damage bad enough that most archangels would’ve gone into anshara while it healed.

Go to Elena! Raphael told the angel, aware he couldn’t lower his shield and go to Illium when Lijuan was apt to return at any moment. He didn’t know if Elena could release wildfire on her own into anyone but Raphael, but it was Illium’s only chance. Elena, Illium’s been hit.

Lijuan returned in a viciousness of starlight obsidian.

71

Pulse in her mouth, Elena was ready for Illium.

Bloody from the spray when he’d cut off Lijuan’s arm, his blue-tipped black hair matted with sweat, he came down hard. One of his wings was almost fully black at this point, the infection gaining ground with every second that passed. Elena touched her hand to it even before he’d caught his balance. Wildfire sparked over her skin in a protective glove but none passed from her to him.

“Cut it off.” Illium handed her his other sword, the edge a deadly gleam. “Stop the spread. Now Ellie.”

Elena set her jaw and took the blade. There was no point in arguing. His wing would grow back. He wouldn’t survive if the poison reached his bloodstream. Using one wildfire-gloved hand to hold the blackened wing away from his back, she sliced. The blade was razor-sharp, went through the feathers and bone and tendon like they were butter.

Illium’s spine went rigid, but he didn’t cry out. Elena didn’t cry, either, even as she excised off half of one of the most beautiful pair of wings in the world. She made sure to cut as close to the inner edge as possible, removing a clear two inches of healthy wing to ensure none of the poison would get into his bloodstream.

The blackened and dead wing fell to the rooftop.

He incinerated it with his power.

“You’re bleeding,” Elena said as she returned his sword.

“It’ll stop soon.” His face was pale but marked by lines of determination. “Slice off the healthy wing. I can’t fight with it pulling me off-center.”

It was harder this time, because there was nothing wrong with that wing, his feathers a vivid blue edged with filaments of silver, but she knew why he was making the choice. Illium was lethal with a sword in the air or on the ground but a messed-up center of gravity would make him clumsy, easier to kill.

“Done.” Her voice came out a rasp.

Shifting to face her, his eyes dilated but his resolve unshaken, he touched his fingers to her cheek. “Wing loss is a foreseeable battle injury, Ellie. They’ll grow back. I’ll just have fluffy duck feathers and be grounded for a while—I’m very strong. It won’t take long.”

He incinerated his remaining wing, as if able to tell how much it hurt her to see it lying there, severed from his body. “Not sure if this’ll make you feel better, but the first time this happened, my feathers grew back even prettier.” A wicked grin.

“No.” She poked him in the chest. “That does not make me feel better.” But weirdly, it did. He’d been so much younger then, and he’d come through fine.

His back was a mask of blood when she checked again, but the first wound had already stopped bleeding and there was no sign of any further infection. For a second, she thought she saw a faint glow, similar to what happened with Raphael’s wings when he was feeling lethal—or when he was overflowing with power.

Then an entire squadron of Lijuan’s fighters landed on the rooftop and they had no more time. Elena brought up her crossbow, Illium sliced out with his sword, and they exchanged grins before diving into battle.

Elena was on the edge of the building, having just brought down an enemy angel when she saw one of Lijuan’s poisonous bolts drop down directly at Galen, who was in the air on the far side of her roof. She was beside him before she realized it, shoving him out of the way. The bolt hit her instead, punching all the air out of her lungs.

Her entire body erupted with wildfire, encasing her in light.

Lijuan’s bolt dissipated.

Handy, but it used power. She flew back to her rooftop just as Illium finished off the last assailant. Grabbing a crossbow from a fallen enemy fighter, he took up a shooting stance beside her, and they aimed up. Not far from them, she saw Michaela deliberately put her body in the path of a bolt that would’ve otherwise hit and disabled Jason.

The Archangel of Budapest shrugged it off and kept going, flying to take on a general who’d pinned down a squadron. Turned out some people’s true colors were hella surprising. She’d never again look at Michaela the same way.

Elena saw Raphael hit Lijuan in the fucking center of the chest, the wildfire turning her veins electric, but not only had the damn immortal monster healed devastatingly fast from Illium’s heart blow, she remained able to turn noncorporeal. When she appeared by Michaela this time, neither the archangel nor anyone around her was able to interfere before Lijuan disappeared—taking Michaela with her.

She reappeared less than a second later only a meter from the edge of Elena’s rooftop, hovering over clear air with Michaela in her grip.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” Illium yelled and all the shooters unleashed their arrows or bolts or guns at the Archangel of China.