The atmosphere inside the hall crackled with an electric tension that prickled over my skin and sent my heart racing, as if I'd just spent the night off my face partying at one of Davey's gigs.

Ethan straightened up, rolling back his shoulders, and by his side, his fists were clenching and unclenching - that sure sign he was squaring up for a fight.

Nobody had moved since the moment he'd appeared.

The demon army surrounded him, their arms outstretched and ready to attack, and yet their stance and the expression on their faces seemed to tell a different story. If the tension was coming from anyone, it was coming from them, not from the one demon who stood alone, outnumbered, flanked on all sides by his enemy. The nervous energy coursing through the air was so palpable, I could feel it building, becoming this monstrous thing that was threatening to consume everything. I waited, my eyes wide, my throat burning, and as the seconds ticked by, I realised I was waiting for the explosion – that one moment when the world would erupt and take us all with it into the ashes.

'Welcome home, Ethan,' Blake called out, holding out his arms in a hospitable gesture.

'This has never been and never will be my home,' Ethan said, his voice calm and measured. 'As I've told you before, nothing's changed.'

Blake gave a brief, cool smile. 'On the contrary, I would say everything has changed, wouldn't you?' He stepped to one side, looking up at me as he did so. There was a distinct spark of victory and triumph in his gaze, which left me feeling ashamed and mortified that it was my stupid, reckless hero act that had forced Ethan to come to the one place he had been avoiding for so many years.

Instead of looking at me like he wanted to push my face into the wall – because I really wouldn't have blamed him one bit - Ethan mouthed are you okay and I swallowed hard, nodding my head, even though I wasn't okay. None of this was bloody okay.

A peel of girlish laughter echoed through the room as Juliette sidled over to me, raising her hand to stroke my hair again, that idiotic pout in full effect once more.

'Don't worry, Ethan, darling,' she crooned. 'Casey has been the perfect guest, she really has. Hasn't moved barely a muscle. Of course, that's because she can't, but that's beside the point. We've grown quite fond of your little human. In fact, we insist that she stay here with us.' She turned her head to look pointedly at Ethan, running her tongue over the edge of her teeth. 'Won't that be wonderful, my love? One big happy family.'

Ethan took a deep breath, as he stared back at her, nothing but a deep, terrifying darkness in his eyes.

'You and I both know I'm not going to let that happen,' he said. He balled his hands into tight fists.

High above us, the newly-installed crystal orbs were flickering again.

I didn't understand it. I didn't know how he was making them do that. The flickering lights was a sign of the Angels. He'd told me that. Fuck, I'd seen it with my own eyes. And yet, here he was, making the lights flutter and quake, like he was one of them. Was he one of them?Had he been hiding it from me all this time? My head pounded with confusion and panic.

Blake raised his eyes to the sparkling lights, again showing no fear or alarm, before calmly focusing his attention back on Ethan.

'You will agree to be bound,' he said.

It was Ethan's turn to laugh now. 'And you and I both know that's definitely not going to happen either. You're going to release Casey and then we're going to get the fuck out of this shit show of yours. Don't force my hand, Blake, I'm warning you. I won't hesitate.'

'And yet, you have hesitated and that, my old friend, is your problem.' Blake smiled.

Without warning, the air juddered violently. All around, Blake's army tugged on the air, rolling it between their hands, quickly creating spinning balls of incandescent energy, ready to aim it directly at Ethan. Taking a quick step back, Juliette faced me and with a grin full of pure wicked glee, she raised her hands in front of her making a twisting gesture and pulled hard. Instantly, my arms stretched out on either side of me as the invisible binds pulled further apart, and to my horror, they kept on going, each one tugging relentlessly on my body, as if I'd been strapped to some medieval torture rack. I screamed, an ear-splitting howl of agony, as unbearable pain tore into my muscles, ripping across my shoulder blades as if it might split my spine in half. Holding up her palms, Juliette held me there, not attempting to pull me apart any further, but keeping me locked into the pain.

Ethan howled with rage and the demons took a step forward, closing in on him as he raised his hands and picked off the closest one – clearly the bravest and most foolish of them all. The demon – a tall, stocky guy with tanned skin and a shaven head - had advanced with a smug grin, only to find himself thrown up into the air like he was someone half his size and catapulted across the room, where he hit the wall with a sickening thud and crack of bone.

'You let her go,' Ethan shouted at Blake. 'You let her go right now or I swear I'll slaughter every fucking one of you.'

'And just how many of us do you think you can kill, before the maledicti dies?' Blake called back. 'How many do you think, Ethan, before Juliette rips her arms from her body? Three? Four? I am willing to sacrifice whatever it takes. What are you willing to sacrifice?'

He snapped his fingers and Juliette clenched her hands into fists and pulled again, a little sneer tugging on the corners of her mouth. Violent pain exploded through my body, cluster bombs of fire ravaging muscle, bone and flesh. Tears streamed down my face. Sweat poured down my back. Pinpricks of light began exploding in my eyes. I felt the pain overwhelming me, dragging me down, darkness blurring the edge of my vision. She was going to do this. I could see it in her expression, that mad lust for pain and suffering. She wanted me dead, but she was going to make damn sure she enjoyed every last second of my pathetic life as she tortured me.

'Okay, okay, stop!' Ethan shouted above my screams. He stepped forward and held up his hands, but not with intended threat this time. 'I'll do it, okay? I'll agree to be bound. I'll do what you want. Just stop hurting her, please.' His arms fell to his side, his shoulders drooping in defeat.

'Juliette,' Blake ordered, without taking his eyes off of Ethan.

With an exasperated huff and clearly upset that Blake had put an end to her twisted fun, Juliette scowled as she stopped pulling, and moved the binds back to their original position. The relief was instantaneous as the pressure was released, but my body still bore the after-effects of the pain. I hung there, head bowed, tears still pouring down my cheeks, gasping for breath.

When I finally regained some strength to lift my head just a little, Ethan was being forced to his knees, his arms held behind his back. Behind him, one of the demons – a toned, dark-skinned woman with her long, black hair tied into a high ponytail and a visible tattoo on her neck – was making rolling gestures with her hands, but I couldn't see what she was doing. Whatever it was she did, Ethan's arms were yanked back, forcing him to straighten his spine. His face contorted into a momentary grimace of discomfort, before the woman stepped away and nodded to Blake.

I stared at Ethan in dismay and he stared right back at me, his eyes full of regret and something that looked horribly like an apology. How could he be sorry for this? This was my fault. Not his. I'd walked – no, run – headlong into their trap and I'd forced him to come here, outnumbered and outmatched. He'd never stood a chance. Neither of us had.

'I never wanted this,' Blake said, walking closer to where Ethan knelt and sounding strangely sincere, despite the fact he'd just threatened to let Juliette rip my limbs from the sockets. 'I wanted you to come to us willingly. I had hoped that your position on this would soften over time. I hoped that you would take up your rightful place, that you would honour the legacy bestowed upon you by your father and lead us to victory.'

Ethan turned his gaze upwards to look at Blake, his face full of loathing.

'Lead you, Blake? Really? After all these centuries you've had pretending to be King? Sitting on top of your fucking throne, issuing orders and rules and commandments, like you're bloody Moses coming down from Mount Sinai?' He laughed coldly, shaking his head. 'Don't talk about what my father bestowed upon me, because you know nothing of it. He saw you for what you were a long time ago. You don't want me to lead you. You want someone to help you win this war, while you sit on your throne and watch the world burn. You want a puppet. You want a weapon.'

Blake cocked his head to one side. 'Ah yes, but what a weapon you are, Helel.'

Ethan visibly flinched, his eyes briefly darting towards me.

Catching the slight movement, Blake looked over at me, his mouth open in surprise, his dark brows arched. Very slowly, his lips turned upwards into a small, thin smile.

'The maledicti does not know,' he said, still staring at me. 'How interesting.'

'Kn-know what?' I stammered, trying to catch my breath. 'What don't I know? What does Helel mean?' I looked at him questioningly, suddenly feeling like the only one in the room who didn't know the punchline to the joke.

In response, Ethan said nothing, which only seemed to amuse Blake more. 'He is Helel,' Blake said. 'It's his name. His real name. Did he not even tell you this?' He shrugged. 'I can't say I blame him. You maledicti have proved to be sadly disloyal at times. To trust one of your kind with the truth would be quite foolish.'

I couldn't find the words to fight back. I'd known there were secrets, I'd always known, from the moment he'd lied to me about his name, to when he'd brushed over the truth about the other maledicti, but whatever the secret was that Blake was referring to, I sensed that it was bigger than just a false name and half-a-story to cover up a murder.

Hell-hell-hell-hellell-hellell-hellell.

'Helel,' I repeated, almost in a daze as I looked at Ethan. 'I thought the Erelim was saying Hell, but it wasn't. It was calling you by your real name.'

Ethan dragged his gaze away from mine, scraping his teeth over his lower lip as he looked away.

'The Erelim!' Blake exclaimed, shaking his head. 'Yet another trip to the Vaults, Ethan. We felt the fallout from your last visit for decades after. The Council tripled their efforts to hunt us down after that little escapade of yours.'

'So, you lost a few weak ones who were stupid enough to get caught,' Ethan spat, his tone full of bitterness. 'Always good to cut the chaff from the wheat once in a while. I did you a favour.'

'And I made an exception for you, despite the fact you also seem to make a habit of cutting the chaff, as you say,' Blake snapped back. 'I made an exception because of who you are, Helel. I made an exception because I knew that one day, you would do what your destiny commands of you.'

Ethan sat back, resting on his heels and smiled, a streak of pride hardening his features. 'I am commanded by nothing and no one. Do you think you can succeed where my father failed, Azazel? Do you believe your influence to be stronger than Lucifer himself?'

Blake chuckled, running the palm of his hand over his smooth, ebony hair.

'Your father was a great man. Once,' he said. 'His strength was tainted the day he let the witch cast her spell over him. She drained him of his beliefs, of his conviction, of his true mission. He died because of her, just as she died because of you.'

'Careful, Blake,' hissed Ethan. Black, oily veins had begun to snake down under his eyes, like dark fissures cracking open on his skin to reveal the demon beneath.

'Spare me the pointless threats,' Blake replied, leaning down to stare directly into Ethan's face. 'You can do nothing, and, as long as we have her...' He pointed at me. 'You will continue to do nothing, until I command you otherwise.'

Straightening up, the demon looked over at me. 'Now, where were we?' he mused, holding a finger to his lips as if in thought. 'Oh yes, I was about to tell you the story of Helel, seeing as he so deceitfully decided to conceal his secrets from you. But, to tell a story, we need... a book! Now, where would I get one of those, Miss Brogan?'

'Maybe you should try a library, I hear they have a whole load of them, just hanging around on the shelves,' I said, but I knew where this was heading, and my heart sank like a dead weight as he smiled and snapped his fingers again.

The great double doors cracked once more, the deep rumbling thunder as they opened sounding even more ominous than it had the first time.

The gap between the opening doors was barely a metre wide before Oscar appeared, sauntering into the room with his usual couldn't-give-a-fuck swagger and yet seeming so much smaller than I recalled. Oscar had always possessed a kind of aura you didn't forget in a hurry. He was darkness and shadow. He was thunder and lightning. He was a punch to the gut and a knife to the throat. He was the kind of bloke everyone crossed the street to avoid and yet still found themselves caught up in the tornado that he carried everywhere with him, decimating everything and everyone in his path. Yet here, in the lair of the demons, he looked the least demonic of them all. In fact, he looked positively human.

Today, he'd teamed his trademark 80's throwback suit with a cornflower blue shirt and, to my dismay, was carrying the brown leather satchel that Ethan had retrieved from the Vaults.

'Berith!' Blake greeted Oscar loudly, as the demons on the perimeter stepped to one side to allow him through.

'Azazel,' Oscar said in his familiar London rasp, before turning his gaze upon me, his beady eyes widening. 'She's hurt,' he said, jabbing a long-nailed finger in my direction. 'I told you she wasn't to be touched. I've got a deal with Rosier, you fucking know that. This girl is mine.'

Blake sighed, unbothered by Oscar's protest. 'If you're looking for someone to blame, Berith, I suggest you blame Helel. His hasty decision led to this. I admit, it was a regrettable turn of events, but the girl will be fine. She's feeling better already, isn't that right, Miss Brogan?'

I dead-eyed him. 'Fuck you,' I said. 'And fuck you too, Mr Turnbull.'

From his position on the floor, I swear I saw Ethan smirk, but if he had, he quickly smothered it and cast his stone-cold gaze back on Oscar, who seemed strangely less self-assured than normal. My verbal taunt would usually have earned me a harsh rebuke or a slap, but instead, Oscar pursed his thin, dry lips.

'Now, now, sweetheart, that's not a very nice thing to say to the man who's here to save your pretty neck,' he said, his tone softer and so unlike him that I was left momentarily speechless as to what to say in return.

'Which, of course, you can do,' said Blake. 'After Helel has done what we require of him. I take it you have the book?'

Oscar sniffed long and hard, swallowing down whatever shit he'd been storing inside his nostrils. 'Yeah, I've got it,' he grumbled, thrusting the holdall into Blake's eager hands, before looking down at Ethan, his expression almost apologetic. 'Sorry, lad, I really am, but I told you a long time ago that you couldn't hide from this.'

Ethan glared at him, the full weight of his stare feeling like a shroud of ice that chilled my skin, even though it was directed solely at the demon who had double-crossed him.

'I should have known,' he said, his tone laced with venom. 'Tell me, Berith, how long did it take you to betray your friends once Blake had wormed his way into your soul? When their bodies were still warm, or did you wait until they had turned to dust?'

'That hurts, Ethan, that hurts me right here.' Oscar thumped his fist against his chest. 'Your father was like a brother to me. I'd have followed that man to the Throne of the First if he'd asked me to. I'd have taken the first blow from the Seraphim to see him realise his dream of a free world, which is why I couldn't let you piss it all away and dishonour his memory like the ungrateful brat you are. You have a destiny, Helel, and it's about fucking time you stopped running from it.'

'And so, you just took the Gospel I entrusted to you and gave it to him?' Ethan nodded at Blake, who was already undoing the straps on the bag and looking like all his Christmases had come at once. 'My father fucking despised him. You know that. And if he was alive today, he would despise you too. You're nothing but a traitor.'

'Better to be a traitor than a coward, boy.'

I stared at them both, my muscles now burning with a dull ache, but my head clouded with confusion instead of pain. There was something not right about this. Ethan had known Oscar would betray him and give the Gospel to Blake. He'd said it was inevitable. Why was he acting like this whole turn of events was a surprise to him? And when had he given the book to Oscar? He must have met with him before he'd come here. He might as well have handed the bloody thing to Blake himself. Nothing about this made any sense at all.

Pulling the book from the satchel, Blake dropped the bag to the floor and with a squeal, Juliette ran over to him, snaking one arm around his waist, and reaching out with her other hand to caress the Gospel. Ethan tensed as her fingertips danced over the cover, her eyes alight as she did so.

'At last,' she said, almost breathlessly. 'At last, the Gospel of the Morning Star is ours.'

Blake held the book up in the air, brandishing it like a trophy for all to see. A murmur of excitement rippled through the other demons in the room, the previous brittle tension replaced by an overwhelming sense of exhilaration.

'Behold the Gospel of Truth, my friends,' he said, jubilant as he held it aloft. 'Mark this day! For I promised you the day would come when we would hold the teachings of Lucifer in our hands. Mark this day! For I swore on his soul and upon the souls of all those who have perished that we would take this book and unite us all. Mark this day, my friends! For today is the day that will go down in our history as the start of the Final War, the day when the scales tip forever in our favour. This is our time now. These truly are the last days of the Angels.'

A cheer rose up, their cries of zealous joy lifting up to the high ceiling above and Blake and Juliette stood as victors, their smiles stretched wide, their faces full of rapturous pride.

Ethan was watching them intently, a strange expression on his face that I couldn't decipher, and, as the cheers died down, he began to laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckled to himself.

'Oh, that was beautiful,' he said, staring at Blake with wide, mocking eyes. 'Really, just a beautiful speech. Truly outstanding. You know, if my hands weren't bound, I'd applaud the fuck out of you now.' He glanced at Oscar. 'Berith, you don't have any cigarettes, do you? This almost feels like a post-coital moment. We should all just get naked and lay on the floor, blow smoke rings up to the ceiling and say to each other that was just fucking superb, wasn't it?Tell me, old friend,' he said, turning his attention back to Blake. 'How many times have you practised that speech in front of the mirror? Because you have, haven't you? I bet you stand there, with your côck in your hand, and your toy crown on your head, saying those words out loud. Do you do finger guns afterwards? I bet you do, don't you?'

Blake lowered his arm, levelling his icy stare on Ethan, who just kept staring right back at him, an arrogant, amused smile lighting up his face. Standing beside Blake, Juliette was smiling too. It irritated me to see how much she got off on this, taking pleasure from the chaos and turmoil and caring very little who instigated it. She was like the ringmaster of a mad circus, grinning as the trapeze artists plummeted to their deaths all around her, because she just desired the show, the grisly spectacle.

While she was enjoying this, however, Blake was notably less enthused.

'I've always found it a great shame, Helel,' Blake said, dryly, 'that you treat the future of this world with such disdain. That you are so very flippant about what your father believed in so passionately, that he was willing to sacrifice himself in order to make it become a reality.'

Ethan sniffed. 'And as I said before, you know nothing of my father and of the sacrifices he made.'

Blake shot him a glimmer of a smile, before turning to look at me. 'What about you, Miss Brogan? What do you know of Helel's father? What do you know of the story of the great Lucifer?'

I frowned, my gaze skimming over Ethan. 'Just what we've all been led to believe, I guess, that was until I met... Ethan and learned there was a different side to the story.'

'Hmm,' Blake said, holding the book to his nose and inhaling deeply. 'And what might that be, I wonder? Let's start with what you thought you knew, yes? Lucifer, the most favoured of God's illustrious Archangels. Lucifer, the First to Question. Lucifer, the First to Fall. The outcast. The Prince of Lies. The Devil. Satan. Father of all Evil. Am I right?' He grinned as he stepped closer to me. 'Of course, I'm right. It truly is a great story. Recounted time and time again, throughout the centuries, throughout cultures, throughout religions. The greatest lie, right behind the biggest lie of them all, for we can't have one without the other. Good versus evil. Light versus dark. Satan versus the Almighty. Demons versus Angels.'

He looked down at the book in his hands, brushing his palm over the cover almost reverently.

'And what of the story that Helel here... sorry, Ethan, has told you?'

'That it was all a lie. A story created to stop mankind from knowing the truth. Lucifer wasn't evil. He wasn't the Devil. He just sought to question how the Seraphim had manipulated the world and when he did, they banished him.'

Blake's head jerked to one side suddenly and he moved closer still, his eyes widening.

'You have seen the Seraphim,' he whispered, touching his cool fingertips to my forehead. 'In here. He showed you. Tell me, what did you see?'

I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to see it again, but I knew that vision would never leave me. It would always be there, etched upon my memories, tattooed in the blackest of inks, like all the other bad dreams that persisted to haunt me.

'I saw Lucifer with them,' I said, before hesitating. 'No, wait, that's not right. I saw them through his eyes. They were terrified of him. They knew what he would become.'

Blake's mouth widened into a grin. 'And there, Miss Brogan, is the lie.'

'What do you mean?' I said, frowning. 'I saw it for myself. I saw the way they looked at him. I heard their screams.'

'Oh, I don't doubt that,' the demon replied. 'Their fear was real and remains real to this day. But it was not Lucifer they were scared of.' He held the book to his chest, over his heart. 'This book. What did Ethan tell you of this book?'

I hesitated, my breath catching in my throat. There were too many questions. I was starting to feel the familiar yearnings, a need to escape, panic nestling deep inside. 'It's the Gospel of Lucifer,' I replied. 'You said so yourself. It was written by Lilith. It contains Lucifer's teachings, his plans to overthrow the Angels.'

He nodded, pressing his thin lips together.

'It does contain his teachings, that istrue, and it waswritten by the witch, Lilith, but it is the Gospel of the Morning Star. The light-bearer. The shining one. The bringer of dawn.'

'I-I don't understand,' I said, my voice trembling. 'Lucifer was the Morning Star, wasn't he?'

'No, Lucifer wasn't the Morning Star, just as he wasn't the one that terrified the Seraphim,' Blake said. 'They were terrified of the son they knew he would have.'

My gaze travelled to where Ethan remained on his knees, his face unreadable. Stone-like. A mask.

'This book is about the one destined to destroy the Heavens. This book, Miss Brogan, is not the Gospel of Lucifer.'

Blake smiled and held up the book in front of me, following the direction of my gaze and leaning closer until I could feel his breath on my face.

'It is the Gospel of Helel.'