“I learned something about y—” He stopped midsentence when Sammael came toward them, scythe in hand. My heart dropped into my stomach. No … no, no. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t watch Sammael take Will’s soul like he had Emma’s.
“This one,” Sammael said, studying Will with a gaze that seemed to see through skin and bone altogether. “He is not human. He is a reaper born of the Grigori. I have no use for his soul.”
Bastian stood and faced Sammael. “You were never to take his soul.”
Lilith snarled, baring teeth. “The Lord of Souls may take whomever he chooses.”
“He is to die at my hands if he refuses me, and no one else’s,” Bastian said firmly. “He is too dangerous to let live.”
“Why the compassion, Bastian?” Will asked in a sarcastic, bitter voice.
Bastian ignored him. “I need to speak with the Guardian for only a minute, my lord,” he pleaded to Sammael. “Before we continue with the Preliator.”
“I am anxious to devour Gabriel’s human soul,” Sammael said, tightening his grip on the scythe. “My stomach growls for her.”
“One minute,” Bastian repeated. “That’s all I need.”
The tension in Sammael’s shoulders eased. “Very well. I have waited a long time for this moment. I can wait a little longer. Patience is something I have come to know dearly.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Bastian bowed to him and looked again to Will as Sammael stepped away to rejoin Lilith. “I truly wish you had not come here, but since you have, I might as well make you an offer.”
Will huffed in amusement, not quite a laugh. “Is that so?”
Bastian remained calm. “Sammael cannot be stopped. You know now there are only two options. One of which is death.”
“And the other is to join you?” Will laughed. “You’re a fool for even considering I’d say yes.”
“Do you choose death, William?”
“Not going to happen,” Will said through gritted teeth.
“Then join me.”
Will shook his head. “Never! I am angelic and sworn to protect Gabriel’s vessel and all human souls.”
“I don’t want to kill you,” Bastian confessed.
“I will not join you, and I will not let you kill me,” Will said, his head held up in defiance. “My mission is not yet over.”
Bastian stared at him for a moment, and then he paced slowly left and right, his gaze quietly on Will. The longer the silence dragged on, the whiter the knuckles on Will’s balled fists grew. He pulled against Merodach and Kelaeno, but they held him tightly.
“I learned something very peculiar recently,” Bastian said. “About you. You are the son of Madeleine.”
Will let out a small, exhausted laugh. I could tell from here that all he wanted was to end the talking and start the fighting. “And? What does my mother have to do with this? How do you even know who she is?”
“It means that you are my son as well.”
I stared at Will, who gaped speechlessly up at Bastian. It couldn’t be. Bastian was demonic. If Bastian was Will’s father, then Cadan was—
“You lie!” Will roared.
For the first time, Bastian’s cool expression cracked like ice and real emotion seeped through. He snarled, but he looked more insulted than furious. “I loved your mother!”
Will tore against Merodach’s and Kelaeno’s grips. “Liar! You are incapable of love!”
As I tried to decide the possibility of this, I became more afraid for Will by the moment. A reaper’s heritage was determined by his mother’s lineage, not his father’s. Madeleine had been angelic, and therefore it was a genetic possibility for Will to have a demonic father, as unlikely as it was. The reason why Bastian’s face always looked so familiar to me, the reason why I was so instinctively comfortable being near Cadan … they were Will’s father and brother.
“William …” Bastian whispered gently.
“No!” Will cried. “Do not speak to me! You are not my father! She would never touch you! Never!”
Bastian raised his voice. “She’s alive, William.”
Will paused, mouth open, and he didn’t appear to breathe. “What?”
“Your mother. She’s alive.”
Will dropped his face heavily, sagging against the reapers holding him, and he shook his head. “Liar,” he said faintly, his voice trembling. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t tell me this.”
“I’m not lying,” Bastian said, his voice softer now. “She’s alive.”
“My mother is dead,” Will rasped. “I haven’t seen her for centuries. If she were alive, she would have come to me, let me know she was alive. She wouldn’t let me think I’d lost her.”
Bastian’s gaze was sympathetic, and his voice was kind. “She’s a relic guardian, William, like you. She had to give up everything for her mission, just as you did. She would be proud of you, as I am, of your power. Those of my line are all abnormally powerful, because each of us is very ancient and our blood is among the purest of our race, the closest to the divine source we were bred from. There are not many of us. You should be grateful.”
“You’re not my father,” Will murmured. “You can’t be my father. I could never be grateful for anything from you.”
“Why do you reject this knowledge?” Bastian pressed. “Do you refuse to believe that Michael would choose a half-demonic angelic reaper to be the Guardian of the mortal Gabriel? Do you fear the idea that there is something more to being either angelic or demonic—that birthright isn’t everything?”
“You tortured me!” Will shouted, his pain obvious through his broken voice. “You held me for days and beat me until I nearly died, then let me heal and beat me nearly to death again! Over and over and over for days! And then you ordered that monster, Ragnuk, to kill her and dump her in front of me? How could you do that to me if I’m your son?”
Bastian’s gaze was cool and heavy with regret. “I didn’t know you were my son then.”
Will shook his head, disgusted. “And that makes it okay to torture someone who isn’t your child? The only reason you’re sorry for what you did to me is because you believe I’m your son?”
“I suppose that’s true.” There was no shame on Bastian’s face.
“Then that settles it,” Will said, choking. “You couldn’t be my father. You say there is no difference between the angelic and demonic, but you’re so wrong. I would never have done anything like that to anyone, not even to my enemies—not even to you. I could never be capable of any of the horrors you’re guilty of.”
“I see now that you’re more like your mother,” Bastian said. “Madeleine is an astounding creature—your eyes are startlingly just like hers—but make no mistake, you get your strength from me.”
“No!” Will roared, and his power detonated, slamming into the floor and walls all around us. The force blasted into Merodach and Kelaeno, who could only release him and shield themselves. It hit like a tidal wave, crashing over me and sucking me under. I gasped for breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I was battered against my bindings.
I opened my eyes to see Will rushing toward me. He slid to a stop at my feet, raised his fist high over his head, and with a terrible cry, he slammed his fist into the stone floor with a rush of power. The stone cracked and heaved before sinking, shattering the pentagram trapping me. In an instant, I felt my own strength, now free, rush through me, rejuvenating me, and I snapped the chains around my arms with ease. Will rose, his green eyes staring into mine, and I was so overcome with emotion that I was shaking. Before I could say anything to him, he held my face with both his hands, and he kissed me for a single, powerful moment before he broke away.
“Ava and Marcus are on their way,” he said breathlessly, breaking apart the manacles around my wrists. “I couldn’t wait for them, and we can’t wait for them now. We’ve got to get out of here. We’ll die if we try to fight them all at once.”
“Will!” I gasped as I saw that Merodach had
recovered and was now stomping toward us.
Will spun, calling his sword as he brought his arm up high into a fluid arc, connecting his blade with Merodach’s. Will roared, and his power exploded again, blasting into Merodach, forcing him to stagger back. Merodach let out a howl of rage, and they clashed in a fury of flying blades. For them, this had grown to more than just enemies battling on either side of a war. This was now personal.
A hand clamped around my throat and hurled me into the wall. I cracked my skull against the stone and I slumped for a heartbeat, just long enough for a fist to whale on my face. The blow sent me spinning back into the wall, and pain shot through my skull and neck. My eyes misted over but then focused on Kelaeno’s furious face above me.
“Bring Gabriel to me!” Sammael’s voice roared over all the pandemonium, his orders firm and immediately obeyed.
Kelaeno dragged me toward the Fallen as I struggled, clawing and thrashing at her hands. And then she was gone. I whirled, now free, to find that Will had hauled her off me. His fist pounded into her head over and over, her face snapping side to side with each blow. Blood flecked from her lips and her eyes stared at nothing. She gave her head a shake and darted past him toward me. Will spun to follow her. He grabbed Kelaeno’s head with his hands around her forehead and chin and gave a swift twist. Her neck made a sickening crack and her body slumped, whitening to stone. As the ancient reaper’s knees hit the ground, her body shattered. Will staggered a step back, taking a deep, triumphant breath, and his blazing eyes locked on Merodach as the demonic reaper ambushed me from the side, his sword slicing through the air at me. The first of my blades caught his as I slashed my second up the side of his throat and face, deep enough to grate against bone, but not deep enough to kill. Through the flying sheet of his blood, Merodach screamed in rage and tore away from me as the angelfire burned a bleached white scar into his dark skin. He clutched at his face, howling in agony.
I launched myself to finish him off, but a light flashed—a light so blinding and quick that I was momentarily paralyzed, burying my face in my hands as my eyes burned like they were on fire. I fell to my knees, curling my limbs into myself, the heat and light just too much. The light dimmed only enough for me to squint up at its source, and the sight took my breath away.
An angel hovered above Will and me, his wings spread and luminous, dividing us from our enemies. He was not Michael, nor was he an archangel. He wore long white robes that billowed around his body in unseen wind, cloaking his brown skin. His face was gentle and determined, his russet eyes settling on me. Chained to his waist was a massive, weathered book, and in his hands he held a long, elegant staff with a beautiful, curved, jeweled blade forged to one end. The other side of me—Gabriel—knew him. He was Azrael, the holy angel of death. The Destroyer.
He nodded to me and smiled. “Gabriel,” he said, his voice eerily calm and musical. “I can stay only for a few moments, but I will hold them off. This battle is not to your advantage. For now, my sister, you must run.” He looked at Will. “Get her far away from here, Guardian.”
“Azrael!” Sammael’s cry of fury shook my entire body, and I could feel his rage scraping at my skin as his power oozed through the cellar. The leonine reapers shrieked and screeched metallic cries from somewhere unseen.
Without another word, Will took my hand and we darted through the light, Azrael’s glory too bright for me to see anything with my human eyes. I had to trust Will would find the stairs and get us both out safely. My foot hit the bottom step, and I hesitated just long enough for Will to lift me, guiding my feet up the staircase. Safely out of the blinding light drowning the cellar, we found ourselves on the first floor of an old house crumbling from battling reapers and decades of neglect.
I heard crashes from somewhere on this level and ducked instinctively. I was shocked to see Ava slash open the throat of another reaper with a short, thin sword and then drive it into his heart.
She wheeled to face us, breathless. “What’s going on down there?”
“Are we too late?” called Marcus’s voice. I turned to see Marcus kick a reaper in the chest and yank a blade from his heart as his body turned white hard with death.
Will laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Just in time. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We slipped into the Grim, hidden from mortal sight, and the four of us ran toward the front door, down the rickety porch, and into the shadows between dilapidated houses. The whole world seemed to have a layer of gloss over it from the misty sleet, the pavement like mirrors beneath our feet. Horns honked in heavy traffic a few streets away, and the tall buildings of the city could be seen in the distance over the tops of the trees. Between two houses, Will stopped and turned to me. Ava and Marcus spread their wings and lifted into the sky.
“We’re going to have to fly now,” he said. “It’s the quickest way to escape, and they won’t be able to track us.”
I was breathless from running, but I nodded. He touched my hair as he gazed down at me, his shoulders easing with relief.
“God, I thought I’d lost you,” he breathed, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. “I thought I’d be too late to save you.”
I shook my head. “Will, I—”
Before I could finish what I’d wanted to say, his lips pressed against mine fiercely, his hands holding my hips and pulling me closer to him. I threw my arms around his neck and let myself fall into him, dropping my guard for just an instant to feel reprieve from the violence I’d endured.
“William,” said the dark, familiar voice behind us.
We sprang apart, only to find that Bastian had caught up to us. Will tore away from me with a cry of anger, his sword filling his hand.
Bastian raised his palms, his expression soft. “I’m not here to fight.”
“I will not surrender her to you,” Will snarled, pointing his blade to Bastian. “I will not yield this night, not ever!”
“I know, my son,” Bastian said. “But the part of you that is demonic yearns for this. You are going against your very nature, against your own kind. Deny it all you want, but I will only offer one more time. Join me, and I will spare your life. Hers, though, I cannot. She can undo everything we’ve worked for.”
Will let out a furious, impatient growl. “No! I will not hand her over to die so you can destroy the world!”
“William, you’re making a terrible mistake.”
“No!” Will shouted, raising his blade higher to Bastian’s throat, but I could see that he was shaking. “This is no mistake! You are the one who is mistaken and misguided. I cannot throw away five centuries like that. I cannot throw away my life like that! I will not sentence her and the rest of the world to death for anything!”
A figure in dark clothes landed and folded his silver birch–colored wings behind his back. Cadan’s arrival sent a tremor of shock through my entire body. His wings were bat wings again, to enable him to fly better in the drizzly rain. He stared at me first for what felt like a heartbreaking eternity, and then he looked painfully to Bastian.
Bastian snarled at him. “I told you to—”
“I can’t,” Cadan said, cutting him off with a quiet voice. “I can’t let you do this. This has to stop, and if I’m the one to do it, then so be it.”
Bastian’s face lit up with shock. “You’re turning against me? Was it you who killed Ivar?”
“Yes,” Cadan replied, lifting his chin defiantly. “You’re wrong about this world, about what it has to offer. The humans—”
“The humans are already destroying this world!” Bastian roared. “They are weak, flighty creatures. They don’t deserve to rule this world. They don’t deserve to spread their plague to Heaven! Not if we can’t have it.”
Cadan shook his head. “Humans are inherently good. You and I—we don’t belong here, or anywhere. We weren’t meant to be, and the humans, not us, were meant to go to Heaven. You can’t destroy seven billion souls just because you envy them!”
; Bastian’s reaction was volcanic. He vanished and reappeared in Cadan’s face, his fist tight around Cadan’s throat, and he slammed Cadan’s back into the side of a house, shattering the weathered wooden panels. Will threw an arm over me, shielding me. He knew now that Bastian was his father, but neither he nor Cadan knew that they were half-brothers. I opened my mouth, wishing I could say something, but it wasn’t my place. Now wasn’t the time. It would have only made things worse.
“How dare you?” Bastian rasped. “How dare you accuse me of feeling something so vile?”
Cadan swallowed hard. “Because that is all that you are: vile.”
He blasted his power into Bastian—a strength Bastian must never have foreseen, because there was an immense shock on his face as he barreled through the air and hit the wall of a house. He staggered to his feet, gaping at Cadan as his son descended on him.
Cadan stared down at him. “You deserve Heaven even less than that beast you brought back from the bowels of the earth. You only want to destroy everything because you envy the humans their souls and because you’re terrified of death. You can’t have Heaven, and neither can I. None of us can! You want revenge you were never entitled to. This is not right! Annihilating the human and angel races is not right. I can’t allow you to continue. My allegiance is no longer to you. I will defend the Preliator at any cost, even if it takes my life, even if it forces me to destroy you.”
Bastian shot to his feet and threw a punch, but Cadan caught it in his fist, forcing Bastian’s arm down. “I am stronger now,” Cadan said. He kicked Bastian’s chest, forcing him back, and he called a long, elegantly curved blade into his hand and pointed it at his father. “And my act of defiance tonight,” he snarled, echoing Bastian’s words from their confrontation the night we had thrown Sammael’s sarcophagus into the sea, “will be my greatest.”
“Will,” I said faintly, tugging at his shredded shirt. “We should go.”
But he only stared, and I realized he was torn between fleeing and protecting the reaper who called himself his father. I tugged harder, and Will took a single step with me as I backed away.
Wings of the Wicked Page 30