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ANGELS IMMEDIATELY pop up from their prone positions and begin chasing us. Some look stung and sluggish but too many of them manage to shake it off. Raffe’s wings sweep powerfully as we fly above the crashing waves.

Behind us, a horde of angels takes off from the cliff.

The thunderous sound of the scorpion wings gets louder as the swarm twists and doubles back. The scorpions fly so close to us that their insect wings almost brush my head as they dive toward the angels.

My eyes squint against the rush of insectile bodies. Watching over Raffe’s shoulder, my field of vision narrows and widens rhythmically as Raffe beats his wings.

The swarm dips down, colliding with the angels just behind us.

The titanic clash knocks out the angels and all I can see are stingers and insect wings. No angel can penetrate the mass. I imagine this isn’t exactly what Uriel had in mind when he created the scorpions.

The scorpions dive and double back toward us without a single angel in sight.

We are in the swarm.

Bodies fly above, ahead, and below us. Behind us, the mass of stingers and wings is so dense that it’s a wall of giant insects.

We look around nervously until enough time goes by that we stop worrying about whether they’re going to attack us.

Beside me, my little sister rides on what’s left of Beliel. Her legs wrap around his waist and she presses Raffe’s severed wings onto him with her body. The tips of the snowy wings hang off him, fluttering in the wind.

Beliel is a gruesome picture with his head hanging down. Chunks of him are missing and he’s still bleeding. His skin and muscles are shriveled and sucked dry, making him look frail and long dead.

They’re carried by six scorpion monsters fluttering their iridescent wings, and they are a freakishly bizarre sight. Paige turns to me and gives me a shy smile that stops when the crisscross stitches on her cheeks move too much.

My dad once told me life would get complicated when I grew up. I’m guessing this isn’t what he meant. My mom, on the other hand, agreed with him, and I’m guessing this kind of thing is exactly what she meant.

I curl up in Raffe’s arms. Our flight is in sync with the swarm, as if his instincts are perfectly honed to synchronize with his flight mates. It’s clear that he was meant to be an integral part of something larger than himself.

Raffe is warm and strong and he feels like home. Our faces inch closer as the swarm shifts. For a moment, I can feel his breath feathering my cheek.

We’ll fly wherever the swarm takes us, and we’ll land wherever they do. And when we arrive, I have no doubt that I’ll have to be fully alert and ready for anything. Until then, I can bask in the knowledge that my family is safe for the moment and I’m with Raffe again.

The sun is rising, giving the dark ocean below a glow that shimmers with blue, gold, and green.

It’s a new day in the World After.

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