Free URIEL: The Price (The Airel Saga, Book 6) (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) by Aaron Patterson, Chris White Page A

life, I suppose?”
    Anael coughed up more blood and shook his head. “No, boy. I want yours.”
    Qiel could not mask his surprise.
    Anael waved a hand, dismissing his fears. “A simple trade—your life for your mother’s.”
    Qiel lowered his hand. It wasn’t strictly in surrender, but the gesture also wasn’t devoid of consideration. “Why?”
    Anael writhed in pain. “I die, and you torture me with ridiculous questions. Time is short. Yes or no?”
    “Who am I that you would want me over her?”
    Anael gestured to the chaos around them, above and below them. “You are a perfect contradiction—a Son of El with the blood of the Brotherhood running through you. You are a half-breed able to wield the power of El and to resist the curse of the Brotherhood.” He moved his hands as if casting a spell. “Imagine.”
    Qiel had to admit that he had already done such things. And more.
    “You are the next Seer, my son. The heir to the throne.”
    Qiel clenched his fists and stepped backward. “No.”
    Anael’s eyes reddened as his features fell slack. “You will, boy. Or your mother will surely die.”
    * * *
    KREIOS FOUND HIS OLD friend lying facedown in the rain. This was the last of the pureblood angels of El.
    Save for one.
    Kreios. And Kreios would be the last.
    Yamanu was dead, struck down with Zedkiel’s own sword. Kreios, El’s Angel of Death, knelt over the warm corpse of his companion and lamented all. He was not given, but an instant to grieve. There was a mighty rumble as the ground gave way beneath everything he could see.
    Kreios took slowly to the sky, hovering and staring in shock as Yamanu’s body was taken down and consigned to this mass grave, his end, their end, the loss of everything Kreios and his kind had ever had together. It all crashed in upon itself and sank down into the ground, swallowed up by the earth.
    Ke’elei was gone.

CHAPTER XV
    Elsewhere
    THERE WERE PEOPLE IN my room, talking excitedly. I searched for Mom. She was not in her usual chair by the window. I couldn’t turn my head or move, so I was limited to what I could see from my back.
    Someone said, “Keep administering CPR. Tell the nurse to get a defibrillator in here now.” Silence. Then, “How long has she been like this?”
    “I don’t know. We check in on the patient once per shift,” a woman said.
    More commotion. Somebody said, “Clear,” several times and there was a thumping sound. Two men came in with a stretcher and bent down. My mom was lifted into place on it and taken out in a big rush as I screamed for her in the silent hell of my own head. I caught a glimpse of her face—it was drawn, hollow, lifeless.
    I was alone in the room. I cried and cried, but the tears never surfaced on my face. I cursed my father for not being here. Where is he?
    She whispered again, drawing me into safer places where I could find rest. I was tired, alone, and unable to control what was happening to me. “There remains before you your darkest hour, Airel. Your resolve and desire will face their greatest testing.” I could feel in She’s voice both sadness and solid reassurance that these things were precisely as they should be. “You will yet be brought to the pinnacle of your life. There you must make your last choice between darkness and light. You will need this.”
    As I looked, it was as if I was watching myself from above. There in front of me appeared the Sword of Light. I would know that blade anywhere.
    “It is El’s Sword. He offers it freely to you for another season. Airel,” She said. “Wake up—awaken!”
    I did, but I was no longer in the hospital bed. I was somewhere else, somewhere beautiful. I saw a door hovering before me without handle or frame. I knew this door . . . long ago I’d seen it in my dreams, in my imagination, as I’d read the Book of Kreios.
    I held the Sword of Light aloft for the first time in forever. A shout rang out and resonated within the molecules of the blade, which I