by J. Kenner
“Lucas Johnson?” he repeated, and I saw the shadow of recognition in his eyes.
“Yes.” I spoke warily, afraid of what Deacon would say. Afraid I knew it even before he said it. “Oh, God. He’s a demon, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” A muscle twitched in Deacon’s jaw as he held back temper. I empathized, as I was holding back a bit of temper, too. Because I understood the truth now: I hadn’t killed Johnson with an owned blade. Which meant he hadn’t stayed dead.
His essence had come back. It had found a new body. And Johnson was the one stalking Rose. The one she’d told me she’d seen. Eyes on her, watching her. Following her.
Fuck. I started to climb to my feet, but Deacon took my hand and tugged me back down. “No. Tell me the rest.”
“I have to go.”
“Tell me,” he said.
I wanted to scream and kick and punch him in the face. I wanted to run to Rose and steal her back to safety. I wanted to find Lucas Johnson and slide my blade into his heart. And I couldn’t do any of it. Not right then. I had to think. I had to plan. I had to do it right if I was going to get my revenge.
And I was going to get revenge. All this time, I’d thought Rose was safe because they’d told me a lie. They’d told me he was dead. They’d betrayed me in so many ways, but this one was the worst of all. They’d pay. That was a promise I wouldn’t fail to keep.
Somehow, I’d get my revenge.
I turned and met Deacon’s eyes. “They can never pay enough for this. Never suffer enough. Never hurt enough. But I’m going to make them try.”
“I’ll help you. I promise. But first you need to tell me the rest of it.”
I drew in a breath, closed my eyes, and told him everything, laying it out in painstaking detail. Rose. Lucas Johnson. The angel. The Grykon. Clarence and Zane and the training. Even the prophecy.
“A prophecy,” he said, looking puzzled. “What did it say?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Clarence never told me the specific wording. Just that I was the one. The one that would close the gate. Obviously that was a big fat lie.”
“But it’s interesting that in my vision you were the one who would close the gate.”
“Considering I didn’t close the damn thing, that’s not only useless information, it’s depressing.” I sighed. “You saw us closing the gate, right? You and Alice. What exactly did you see? And why did you say you had her blood on your hands?”
He stood then, his expression flat and his eyes cold as he walked to the grimy window and looked out over the night. For a moment, I feared he wouldn’t tell me anything, and then he spoke, still not facing me. “There are many torments for a Tri-Jal,” he said, and I could hear the pain in his voice. “And I tried as best I could to hold on to my sanity. I clung to it like a life raft, and when I slipped, I searched for some piece of humanity within me. Anything that might have grown in me when I’d been in the shell of human form. I found a kernel and I clung to it.” He turned and looked at me. “That kernel kept me whole, and when the pain was too great, I could lose myself in it. I could be something I wasn’t. Something—someone—with the potential for good.
“You can’t imagine the torment. It is . . . eternal. Deep and raw and unrelenting. But I found a hiding place within, and my mind would go there. One day I saw. Not in my imagination, but something outside me. A vision, laid out and clear. And in it, I was closing the Ninth Gate, and I knew that if I could do that—if I could lock the gate before the convergence—then the evil I had done would be redeemed. Not forgiven, but I would have made sufficient payment for my sins.”
I watched him, the tight control that seemed to envelop his whole body. I wanted to go to him, wanted to touch and soothe him, but I feared that if I did, he would shatter into a million pieces.
“I wasn’t alone. There was a girl with me. We fought. We almost died. But we did it. We closed the gate. And seeing that gave me hope.” His eyes met mine. “It was that hope that kept me sane. That allowed me to survive the torment and escape the pit.”
“What did you do when you were out?”
“I came to Boston. Drawn here, really. And I didn’t know why until I came one day to the Bloody Tongue. I saw Alice, and I knew that she was the one. So I watched her. And I learned about her family. And I learned that she wanted out. Didn’t want anything to do with the dark arts. And that fit.”
“A girl like that would want the gate closed.”
“So I believed. I went to her. She didn’t work at the pub then. I went and I told her what I’d seen. She was terrified. Completely freaked, and she ran. Stayed away for months. I kept an eye on her, wanting to give her space, trying to figure out what to do, because the vision was so clear. I needed her. I knew it.”
“But you never got her.”
“No,” he said. “I did. She came back one day, completely broken up. Said she’d had a vision. Told me she used to have them when she was a kid, but they’d stopped. But this one was clear. And like me, she’d seen us closing the gate.” He drew in a breath. “Because of that, she went back to work at the pub. She got drawn back to that place because I told her what I saw.”
“She’d seen it, too,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe,” he said, but there was sadness in his voice. “At any rate, I had my ally. But there was no connection between us. She was a girl that I was doing a job with, and that was fine. But it felt off. Even more so when I realized she had a thing for me.”
“Imagine that,” I said, with a small smile.
“She came to me one night after work. Flirted with me. Touched me.” He tensed, his hands curving into fists as he fought for control.
“And she saw,” I said.
“Fucking terrified her,” he said. “She ran. Said she didn’t know what to trust. We hadn’t gotten far searching for a way to close the gate, but she was out of it now. I was on my own, and I wasn’t thrilled about it.”
“And then?”
“Then she came back to me. Told me she was scared. She needed to talk to me, but in secret. I was supposed to meet her after work.”
“Saturday,” I said, knowing where this was going.
“She didn’t show. And then you were at the pub. And I knew you weren’t her. I knew that right off.”
“How?”
“I already told you. I wanted you,” he said, and from the heat in his eyes, I knew he still did. “I wanted you the moment I saw you, and I never wanted Alice.”
I swallowed, forced myself not to remember the way his body had felt against mine, the way his arms around me had made me feel both alive and whole. Had made me feel like me. “Why didn’t you tell me? About us. About the gates?”
“Because I still believed it was Alice in my vision. And I knew you weren’t Alice. I thought you’d killed her. Taken her place for some dark purpose of your own. I didn’t know, but I intended to find out. And so I waited, and I watched.”
“And you got close to me.”
“Yes,” he said, without remorse.
I drew in a breath, certain I would have done that very thing. Had, actually, when I’d let myself get close to him. “And Maecruth? You poisoned me in front of his house, remember?”
“I didn’t know it was you. Primarily because you were covered head-to-toe in black, but also because I didn’t make the connection that Alice—the new Alice—might be the rumored warrior. And I certainly didn’t make the connection that the new Alice might be the woman from my vision. I saw you only as a usurper. A dabbler in magic. A body thief.”
“What rumors of a warrior?”
“Whispers in the demon underground that a priest was seeking to force the gate closed, and that the demonic higher powers had delivered a warrior to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“You would have wanted to help the priest,” I said.
“Wanted to, yes. But I was not welcome.”
I frowned. “You spoke to the priest?”
“I contac
ted an angel.”
I drew in a breath. “So there really are angels?”
“Not like what you saw the night Lily died,” he said. I’d told him what I’d seen and heard. A white light. The beating of wings. And a sensation of utter beauty. “All that’s a mortal affectation. But they showed you that image because they knew you needed to see it.”
“In order to believe.”
He nodded. “I arranged a meeting with an angel. I said I wanted to help. That I sought the light. I was spurned,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Perhaps the creature believed a Tri-Jal could never have regrets. Perhaps it believed I was a spy. Perhaps it believed that there was no amount of light that could drown out the darkness within me. Whatever the reason, I was kicked to the curb, and soundly.”
“Deacon.” My voice was a whisper. “You didn’t give up, though. They’ll see. In the end, they’ll see.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “I no longer do what I do to seek entrance to the light. I do it for me, and for me alone. And, yes, I did not give up. I inquired and I searched and I killed my kind in order to find out what I need.”
“You learned about Maecruth and Father Carlton.”
“I did. And the rest you know.”
“I do,” I said. I held out my hand. “Come here.” When he didn’t, I stood and went to him. He kept his back to me, his eyes on the window. I put my hands on his shoulder and pressed myself against his back, wishing I could take in some of his pain. “It’s better to do it for yourself, anyway. In the end, you’re the only thing you can rely on. I know that now.”
He met my reflection in the glass. “No faith, Lily? No blind trust?”
“Only in myself.” I could see the question in his eyes and shook my head. “Not even in you. Not yet. I’m sorry.” I was sorry, but I couldn’t truly trust him. Not yet. Not after everything that had happened to me.
There was no hurt in his eyes, only a simple understanding that made my heart ache.
I stepped back and started pacing the small room, my mind whirling. “I killed real demons when I trained. They had me kill their own kind, all for the illusion.”
“Not just the illusion,” he said, turning to face me. “For you. You absorb their essence, right? So they were trying to mold you in their image. To make you more like them. They fucked with you, Lily,” he said, and I saw the darkness stirring in his eyes. I tensed, fearful that the rage I’d seen in the church would return.
He pulled it back, though, and when he did, only warmth remained.
“Even the Grykon was real. No chance he’d gone over to the good side and they were trying to shut him down.”
“I’m guessing the Grykon willingly sacrificed himself. He said as much when you were tied up, right?”
“Right,” I said, remembering that first moment when I’d awakened and seen the monster. I rubbed my temples. “I was never in any danger at all. All along, I was supposed to win.” I smiled a little. “But I wasn’t supposed to end him, just kill him. You slammed your blade through his heart and took him out. Pissed Clarence off, too.”
“That, at least, is good to know.”
“And that girl in the cage. The Tri-Jal. Was she real?”
“I’m guessing yes, because she had the mark. Doubt she sacrificed herself, though. More likely she was considered a collateral loss.”
I shivered. The girl had been both terrifying and pitiful, but the idea that she’d been sacrificed as part of a long con seemed obscene.
“They duped me even more with Maecruth. Got me to kill a demon who was working for the side of good.” I hugged myself, remembering that vision. “Oh, God, Deacon. I saw him battling Clarence, and I went after him. Hard.” I met Deacon’s eye. “That son of a bitch would be dead—Maecruth would kill him. If not now, then soon. But I stopped that. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“It’s not your fault.”
I stood and paced. “Maybe not, but it sure feels like it is. This whole thing. It’s all twisted around. And the vampire. No wonder Clarence was pissed that I killed it. I’d just killed one from the home team.”
I ran my ringers through my hair, on a roll. “And those demons that attacked me in the alley? Who were they?” I looked at Deacon through narrowed eyes. “Was that your doing?” I held my breath waiting for his answer.
“No,” Deacon said. “I don’t know who went after you.”
I believed him. “Clarence,” I said, as the pieces fell into place.
“Why would he kill you? He needed you.”
“To make sure I fit the checklist.” He cocked his head, clearly not following, so I went on. “The prophecy said that their girl would absorb demonic essence. So Clarence sent that band of demons to test me. Was I strong enough to defeat them?”
“And more important,” Deacon added, “did you come back to life? Had you absorbed Zane’s essence?”
“Exactly. If I did, then I’m really his girl. And if I didn’t, then no great loss because I wasn’t the one he needed anyway. God damn that son of a bitch.” My breath hitched. “I’ve killed so many. And this one . . . tonight . . . the priest.” My throat filled with tears. “Oh, God, Deacon. What have I done?”
“Shhhh,” he said, pulling me into his arms.
“They used me. They tricked me. The bastards took my life and my purpose and they fucking trampled on it. And I didn’t have a clue,” I said, the anger shooting through me, priming me. “I didn’t have a fucking clue.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
I forced a smile. “Yes,” I said. “It is. I killed him. I killed the one man who could have closed the door forever.”
“Lily—”
“No.” I looked at him, sure my eyes were burning. “I’m going to fix this. They gave me this power? Fine. I’m going to throw it back in their faces.” I drew in a breath, rage burning through me. “I’m going to figure out how to fix what I messed up. I’m going to close that gate. And I’m going to use these powers to kill every last one of them.”
39
“Lily.” My name emerged from his lips whispered, a soft oath.
“I mean it,” I said. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I’m taking those bastards out. Pulling the plug. They messed with me. They messed with Rose. And they are seriously toast.”
He looked at me, his eyes dark. “I’ll help you,” he finally said.
I met his gaze. Nodded. “I know,” I said, and reached for his hand, feeling the shock of connection tear through me.
“So are they done with me?” I asked, when I could no longer hold the question in. “Now that I’ve single-handedly destroyed the best chance of closing the Ninth Gate to Hell, are they going to try to take me out? Decide they can’t run the risk of me finding out the truth?”
“I doubt it,” he said darkly.
“Why?”
“Because they need you. Why stop with one gate? They’re going to try to find the key to open the other eight.”
I’d told him about my arm, and now I thrust it out staring at the currently unmarked skin. “You think Clarence has an incantation for that, too?”
“If he doesn’t, I bet he’s working on it.”
“And the key? The legend you mentioned about a key that would seal tight all of the nine gates? Do you think he knows that incantation, too?”
Deacon looked at me, his head cocked, his expression as devious as I felt. “He just might.”
“I can get it out of his head.”
“No,” Deacon said. “That’s too dangerous. He’ll see you coming. He’ll hear you coming,” he added, tapping his head for emphasis. “You said he picks up your thoughts, right?”
I nodded, realizing with a growing sense of nausea that my juvenile efforts to keep him out might not have worked as well as I’d believed. Clarence had seen my thoughts about Deacon—that was obvious to me now. But instead of attacking them directly, he’d thrown little bombs in my path. Deacon was a demon. Deacon killed Alice.
&nbs
p; I didn’t think Clarence knew about the visions, but he definitely knew more than he let on. And if I went back now, with my mind wide open, I was surely dead.
“He didn’t want you dead at first,” I said to Deacon. “Why?”
“I don’t know. What did he tell you?”
“That you’re strong.”
“Well, I am.”
“But later he told me that you killed Alice. What changed?”
A shadow passed over Deacon’s face. “He must have figured out that I was fighting him. That I was working to close the gate, and that I’d stop you if I could.”
I nodded. That made sense. “He knew,” I said. “He knew how I felt about you, and he played me.”
“Which is why he’s going to see you coming,” Deacon said. “And why you have to be prepared to kill him after you get into his head.”
“Oh, I can kill him,” I said. “No problem there.” I frowned. “As for keeping him out of my head, you can probably help with that. I need to find the Secret Keeper. An Alash-tijard. Do you know how I do that?”
Deacon looked at me, his expression unreadable. “You understand what you’re asking?”
I nodded.
“The Alash-tijard sits and meditates. He does nothing except hold the secrets brought to him by other demons. He is passive. And he never leaves his lair.”
“I know.”
“He doesn’t hurt. He doesn’t kill. Not unless he’s attacked. And then, Lily, he will defend himself.”
I stood, started pacing. I didn’t know that, and the knowledge made my stomach twist. “I have to,” I said. “If I don’t kill him—if I don’t close my mind to Clarence the only way I can—then we’re shut down before we even begin.”
“Lily—”
“No. I’ve racked up a shitload of sins, Deacon. And when I kill this creature, then yeah, there will be one more. But I have to do this. I have to kill Johnson. I have to save Rose. I have to figure out who did this to Alice. And most of all, I have to close the gate. All of it, Deacon. I have to undo all of the bad that I did, fix everything I fucked up. And if I have to kill a demon’s tool to do that, then believe me when I say I’m not even going to hesitate.” I drew in a breath. “I’ll find it. With or without you, I will find it. But it will be faster with you.”