The only person in the whole room who subtly glances at me is Marek, from his station at the door. His cheeks tighten as if he’s holding back a grin, and that seals my earlier wonderings. He’s golden.

The Dukes are raising their voices now over confusion about the prophecy. Rahab’s version completely leaves out the pivotal bit about the demons being given a chance at redemption—he thinks the prophecy is only about banishing them from earth, back to hell. Anna watches them intently, her forehead pinched.

The first true wave of terror hits me when I hear her speak. Her voice reaches above them all. “You’re all being given a second chance at heaven!”

Rahab’s hand flies back and he hits her so hard she falls to the floor. I am on my feet, but I’m not alone. Our entire row has stood.

“What are we waiting for?” Duke Thamuz yells. “Let’s kill her!”

If he goes near her, he will be the first to see the edge of my knife this night. I watch him carefully for any sign that he’ll pull a weapon. But he is shushed by the other Dukes who want to find out what Anna’s talking about.

Now they’re fighting over whether or not to let her talk and whether or not to believe her. They finally decide to let Anna state the prophecy in its entirety, and Jezebet, the Duke of Lies, confirms that Anna’s telling the truth. But none of this is working. They’re too thick to see this is a good thing for them. The Dukes hate hell, but they love earth. Here, they are gods. Why would they want to return to heaven, where everyone is equal? They want to kill Anna purely for suggesting it.

Father yanks Anna by the hair and grabs her, putting an arm around her throat. I move forward quickly, but Ginger grabs my back pocket to hold me in check. I push her hand away and stare at Anna—they’re scaring her to death. I can’t bloody stand here much longer.

Duke Thamuz is practically drooling, his eyes bright red. “Enough games. I want blood.” I palm my knife in my pocket. If it’s blood he wants, I’ll give him his own.

I search the walls and ceiling desperately for that bright light, thinking now would be a brilliant time for the angels to show, but there are only demons and Neph.

Father chuckles and I seethe at how he holds Anna against himself, eyes bright with hunger for his prey. “We will savor her. I won’t even have her first. She’s my little gift to you, brothers. Just be careful not to kill her yet, because she needs to suffer in every possible way. Heaven is watching. Let’s give them a show.”

I can hardly breathe as the Dukes move toward her, their eyes glowing red—Mammon, Thamuz, and Sonellion—Dukes of Greed, Murder, and Hatred. My eyes dart across the walls. Where are the bloody angels???

Anna struggles against Father as he laughs, darkly, getting his kicks off her fear, feeding off the rabid look in the others’ eyes. I can’t take it.

“Father . . . ,” I call.

“Not now!” He doesn’t even turn.

Mammon, the bastard who killed his own son, Flynn, is mere feet away from Anna, and he’s unbuckling his pants. I glance at Kope, his eyes severe, and he gives me a nod.

I zone in on Mammon as he licks his lips lewdly and reaches for Anna. Before I can blink again, my knife is out, opened, and flying directly toward its target. It imbeds deep in his eye, only the handle showing.

My God.

I hold my breath. He staggers back, then to the side as he tries to right himself, and ultimately falls to his knees. His spirit starts wrenching itself out before the body is dead, frantically fighting to release itself as if it’s on fire. I pull out my second knife and snap it open. All eyes are on Mammon, in horror and confusion.

Father turns abruptly, dragging Anna sideways. His face is contorted, livid, and he sprays spittle when he snarls at me. “What have you done?”

“Just a bit of holy water on the blade,” I tell him.

Mammon’s body dies with a thunk on the floor, and his spirit writhes in midair, in agony.

“You,” Father whispers. He advances on me, pulling Anna, and my stomach twists. I have publicly shamed him in the worst possible way, and if something doesn’t happen soon, it could get very ugly. “I trusted you.”

I nearly laugh. “No, you didn’t.”

Father gapes. Neph and Dukes alike gasp at my backtalk. I have to be careful here—I need to get Anna away from him, and I only have one knife left. He’s pulled her body in front of his, practically crouching behind her.

“You filthy, weak idiot!” Father shouts. “You had more potential than all my past sons combined! How could you let yourself be charmed, like a dog, by a Neph girl? You’re a failure.”

You’re a failure. Nothing I ever did was good enough.

“Kill him,” Rahab demands.

Nobody moves.

Adrenaline beats through me as I stare around at the room, glad to have the attention off Anna. I weave the blade through my fingers, hoping they will forget about her and let her go while they’re focused on me. I wait for them to advance, but they simply stare at me with red eyes, quickened breaths, and ferocious faces.

I’ve pissed off the lot of them. Except perhaps Jezebet, the one female Duke. She looks rather amused. And Alocer is stoic and unmoved, very much like Kopano, his son.

“Brother Pharzuph,” Astaroth begins. I know what he is going to say, and I steel myself. “I’m afraid this is more dire than we thought. Your son and the traitor’s daughter are quite . . . in love.”

Hm. I like the sound of that. It’s the worst possible kick in the balls I can give Father, who looks as if he might vomit. “You jest,” he snarls.

“Not in the least,” Astaroth says. “And they’ve acted on it. They’re married.”

The room erupts in loud gasps and sounds of outrage.

Our Nephilim revolt has begun.

The sons of Thamuz are next to disobey their father, although it’s under the influence of Anna—she telepathically sends them the order, even as she’s being gripped from behind by my father. She rarely uses her unique power of influence unless it’s to stop an evil act such as this. Much to their own confusion, the sons of Thamuz put down their guns and won’t shoot us.

The twins are next, refusing to move away from my side when Astaroth orders. The Dukes are seething at the audacity of the Nephilim not to obey them.

“Excuse me, Duke Rahab,” calls Marek from the door he guards. “I apologize for the interruption, but I believe Duke Belial approaches.”

Belial enters in his rapper body, sporting a pinstriped suit with a gorgeous Zania at his side, standing tall and strong. Her father, Sonellion, lets out a growl of outrage.

“Traitor! You were behind all of this! You stole my daughter!”

Belial laughs at this notion. Everyone knows Sonellion discarded his daughter. “We got a lot to talk about,” Belial tells his fellow Dukes. “I know I’m not the only one in this room who knew after the Fall we’d been used like a bunch of fools. Lucifer’s the one who did us wrong—”

“How dare you!” Rahab bellows.

Sonellion reaches for his gun, but Belial points a finger straight at me.

“You’d better rethink that, my man. You see my son-in-law over there? He got damn good aim with that knife, as y’all have seen.”

I hold my shiny blade out for them to see. Eyes glow red all around me.

Belial challenges the other Dukes to consider returning to heaven, and they argue fiercely among themselves. I watch Father carefully, waiting for the moment I can extract Anna from his grip. He’s loosening his hold as he joins the argument, and has got her only by the wrist now. I’m about to rush the center of the room to make my move when something incredible happens.

The Neph Marek brilliantly pulls something from under the back of his shirt and tosses it to Anna, who snatches it from the air. Father leaps away when he realizes what it is, and I run to Anna’s side as the blade brilliantly bursts to life in her hands. She wields the sword, bathing the room in its celestial glow.