The Damned (The Unearthly #5)

A lifetime of endless night. Years and decades of coaxing kindness from whatever this being had left of his heart and nurturing forgiveness from mine. Then centuries of affection given freely between us. Finally, an eternity spent creating something else out of his prison beneath the ground and the worlds he’d conquered, something that seemed closer to paradise than damnation, something closer to happiness than hate.

Amidst all those nights of change, I was there, in his arms, in his mind, in that slowly healing heart of his. All those nights he cradled me close, whispered words of wondrous praise. And I came to love him, and he came to love me. Together we vanquished the monster within him, and hell as we knew it became nothing more than a horrific nightmare of a time before forgiveness.

I almost screamed as the vision cut off. That future was the future the fates had plotted all those centuries ago, one that would change worlds and lives and afterlives. I’d held that future in my grasp. But now, now it slid through my hands like grains of sand.

Even no longer mortal, I couldn’t handle life on the scale of gods, love on the scale of gods.

I was just a vessel. A vessel nearly used up.

The world came back into focus, and for one terrible moment, I saw Asiri staring back at me, the benevolent god of the dead. Hope brightened his eyes an instant before he realized the future we saw would never be his.



With a loud clap of thunder, my connection to the devil snapped. That strange, inhuman presence that had filled my heart was now shoved out.

Reflexively, I loosened my grip. The devil’s hand slid from mine, and the earth opened beneath him. His lips parted, but no words or screams came out. We shared one last piercing gaze, and then he was falling, falling farther and farther down that chasm in the earth. The entire time he made no noise, but his eyes—his eyes said a million things.

The ground sealed up above him, and the devil, for the second time in his long existence, fell to the pits of hell.

Andre

Andre staggered at the sight of his soulmate. She’d always been unearthly, but rising from the ground, her skin shining brighter than he’d ever seen it, leading countless souls from the earth … in that moment she truly was not of this world.

His broken heart sang at the sight of all those glowing souls. The devil had banished Gabrielle to hell, and instead of following orders, she’d coordinated some sort of widespread prison break. For once Gabrielle’s rebellious streak was causing someone else grief. A smile wavered along his lips.

That’s my girl.

The entire field watched raptly. Everyone, save the devil. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

“Consort!” he shouted. The shadows around his form expanded, and energy poured off him. He wasn’t masking his otherness like he always had. And an angry Lucifer wasn’t good. It fed right back into his power. “Consort!”



Andre began striding forward, gripping his sword tighter.

Gabrielle reached for the devil, her body levitating off the ground.

The devil grasped his soulmate’s hand. Something about the embrace made Andre halt his progress. He couldn’t see the devil’s face, but he could see Gabrielle’s. For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t read her. She was utterly devoid of expression. This woman of his, he finally caught a glimpse of what she might look like after the eons chipped away every last piece and parcel of her humanness. She would’ve been nothing like Andre. Time would’ve fashioned her into a distant but humane goddess. Someone far loftier than him.

Andre swallowed. This had always been above and beyond him. He could see that now. Gabrielle rode the power; the power didn’t ride her. She was the sun, and the devil that held onto her was the deep blackness of the universe.

And then the electricity that filled the air, the magic that coated his tongue, something about it … changed. A clap of thunder echoed in the dark sky. Below Gabrielle, the earth split open, and she released the devil’s hand.

The dark god fell silently, and even from this distance, this angle, Andre could tell that the devil hadn’t looked away from Gabrielle. The ground resealed, and Andre’s soulmate had done away with Satan as though he were the mortal and she the goddess of old.



Demons, angels, and supernaturals all watched her in horror, in wonder. Andre’s bleeding heart squeezed at the sight.

She tilted her head skyward once more. The power that drenched her now bled away the black attire she wore, replacing it with iridescent robes. They rippled around her body, moving as though the air was as viscous as water. Whatever magic this was, Andre was sure he’d never seen anything like it.

She had hovered in the air while she held the devil’s hand, but now she rose until she levitated twenty feet above them. Angels shifted their sword arms, preparing themselves to fight her. But she wasn’t attacking. She wasn’t aware at all from what Andre could tell.

His soul cried because he couldn’t see his Gabrielle in this woman.

Gabrielle

Power roared through my veins, continuing to brighten my skin and tear me apart from the inside out. I’d thought it might settle now that the devil was gone. I hadn’t thought it could hurt worse than it already had.

Laura Thalassa's books