The ruined interior was dark when Zophiel came back to awareness. It was nighttime, he could see the little sparkles of stars past the smaller holes in the walls. His whole body hurt, like he’d been run over a couple of times with a big ass semi.
And he was still encased in the adaphat.
There was no point in wriggling. Such an action would only bring attention to himself, and that was the last thing he wanted. Not after the acidic pain of the fucker putting its filth on his halo. His whole body throbbed in reflex. Nothing had ever hurt like that.
Darker splotches swirl around the space, more than before, he was sure. It was possible there were more than the last time he’d staked the place out, too. What kinda s**t was this?
However, it seemed as though the ones that kept him pinned wer
