by S. M. Reine
He gagged. He couldn’t breathe.
The mass bulged onto his tongue, scraped past his teeth, and plopped wetly to the stair above him—the one right between himself and Elise.
His eyes were watering so hard that it took him a moment to realize he’d just vomited a very large, very red bullfrog.
24
J ames only had a moment to stare down at the bullfrog he’d produced. Then Elise’s booted sole came down upon it—hard. It died with a crunch and a croak. Organs oozed out its sides, as black as its skin was red.
“How…?” He looked down at his chest as if he could see where the bullfrog had come from. He didn’t seem to be injured or enchanted.
Elise didn’t look surprised. She looked angry. “Sophie wants you to dismantle the circle,” she said through her teeth. “Get upstairs. Dismantle the circle.”
He still felt nauseous now that the bullfrog was out—much more nauseous than he’d been before, in fact. “Elise, I don’t—”
“We’ve got to finish the job!”
There was nobody else on the roof when they climbed up. Lincoln must have been coming separately from Elise, who had arrived with the massive slab of black crystal that rested beyond the gazebo. There were still occasional flaming hailstones, and each of them flashing through the atmosphere briefly illuminated the contents of that crystal. Two great demons locked in eternal combat inside.
Junior would have lifted it there, but the gargoyle was nowhere to be seen. Elise and James were utterly alone in the pale dawn light.
“Three frogs come from three mouths,” she said, bracing a hand on the gazebo to steady herself as she glowered hazel fire at James. “The dragon’s, the beast’s, and the liar’s. I’ve already seen the dragon. Are you the beast or the liar?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” James said. He couldn’t dismantle the circle without turning his back on Elise.
She drew her sword from her spine sheath. She winced at lifting an arm over her head, and she clutched at her ribs. The show of pain didn’t make it any less threatening. James knew better than anyone else how quickly Elise could kill with that. He’d planned to never give her reason to use it on him, no matter how much he deserved it.
“Let’s start over,” she said. “Let’s go back to… say, when I was sixteen years old. Tell me why you’re the one who picked me up when I escaped the garden.”
It had been so long ago, but James’s memory of it was as vivid as if it had been only days. He had been forced to trek into the remote Russian tundra in order to find where she’d escaped the garden. Elise had been unconscious among the bodies of angels, pillowed upon their feathers. They’d died to help her escape. James would have done the same.
“You were in my aunt’s custody, but she died,” he said hoarsely. “I agreed to look after you instead. Trackers informed me where—”
“Try again,” Elise said.
He couldn’t insult her by trying to lie anymore. She knew. She knew . And there was no keeping himself together, not without the magic that helped him control his moods, the magic that helped him lie so flawlessly. Now he was nothing but a man, crumbling under the guilt and regret and wishing there was a way to put the intensity he felt into words. “I wanted to tell you so many times,” he said. “I’ve questioned for years if it was finally safe to explain how—”
“Safe? Safe for who?”
He swallowed spasmodically. “Me.”
“Did you think I’d kill you when I found out you were grooming me for God?” Elise asked. “No matter how much you betrayed me, you’ve still saved me a hundred times.” She hurled the sword at his feet.
He jumped at the sound of metal clattering against concrete.
“I didn’t think you’d hurt me,” James said. “I knew you’d leave me.”
“Why the fuck would you care about that? You only ever stuck around because you were assigned to me by…” Elise’s gaze flicked toward the clouds.
His eyes hurt from the fireball blazing through morning miles to the west. “I am Fascinated with you, Elise. If that’s the word we want to use for it. From the first time I saw you, I have been enamored. You should have been with my Aunt Pamela, but instead, you were with me. A silver-blooded devotee whose oaths would one day lead you to the garden. I have done everything possible to make you safe.”
“By lying to me,” she said. “Didn’t you ever think that I’d be safer without you?”
James locked eyes with her. For the first time, he let his protections fall. He let the full weight of his feelings wash up against the bond, straining its limits, painting his face in raw honesty. “All the time.”
Elise didn’t speak.
“I’ve been guessing, Elise. Always doubting myself, always guessing, and so often wrong,” he said quietly, almost whispering. “Everything we’ve done together has been real. The long nights we stayed up alternating watch. The business we began together. The enemies we conquered. The wonders that we saw. All of that was real, Elise.”
The fireballs suddenly stopped.
Silence settled over the city, and James’s ears rang in the absence of the roaring. He’d forgotten what true quiet felt like. Wind blew from the west, blasting Elise’s hair from her face, making her squint against the force of it.
“We stopped it,” James said. “You’re not going to be taken. Not today.”
Junior’s large form sliced across the sun, beginning to slide behind the clouds. He spiraled around Harrah’s and used the altitude to drift toward them. They wouldn’t be alone much longer.
“You should have told me. You know I’ve been…” Elise’s throat worked in a swallow. She looked like a fury underneath all the blood. She was the embodiment of rage and hurt and horror within a human vessel. “Ever since the beach in Copenhagen, you’ve known what I feel about you. If you were going to lie to me about that one thing, then why…?” She gestured between them. “This could have been different. We both know it.”
“You have marks underneath those gloves—two of them, which are enough to open any ethereal gateway. I have marks as well. I’m ethereal Gray, after all. Any kind of—that is to say, physical union between us risks uniting the marks and—well, it was too dangerous.”
“So you thought it’d be better to let me think there was something wrong with me?”
“Better than being taken by Him?” James asked. “Anything to protect you, no matter how awful.” He gathered his words inside of him, trying to let himself say what he’d never been capable of saying before. “We survived this time. We can talk about this more if you’re willing to forgive me. I’ll do what I can to make this right because…” He swallowed. “I love you, Elise.”
She stared at him.
His heart couldn’t beat.
PHWOOM .
The white light and roaring noise hit one right after the other. He lost his footing. Crashed into the cement.
James scrambled to his feet, gripping the edge of the building so he could look over its side. Windows had shattered in the shockwave. He couldn’t see the crater the meteor must have produced, but he could see the fast-rising smoke and hear screams throughout Reno. The sky was clouding over quickly. The sun was gone again.
“What was that?” he asked.
Elise staggered to his side. She’d ripped open the knee of her pants when she fell, and her leg was bleeding. “I think that’s…” She coughed into her sleeve. Her auburn braid was dusted silver with ash. “That’s the Warrens, where Neuma said that He would come through.”
“Then stopping His herald wasn’t enough,” James said.
God was still coming.
Junior landed on the adjacent corner of the building, his enormous claws curling around the ledge. He arched his wings over him so that he was shielded from the dust. It distantly occurred to James that the gargoyle wasn’t carrying Sophie’s bags as he’d been meant to. He held nothing at all. His stone skin was scorched as though he’d been struck by a meteor.
“We have to get over there!” James launched toward Junior. “It may not be too late. If we transfer Sophie’s wards to the exposed segment of the Warrens—”
The gargoyle reached out so quickly that James didn’t have an opportunity to react to it. He slammed into the broad granite palms.
One clawed fist gripped James’s shoulder. The other gripped his forehead.
Crack .
James didn’t even feel pain.
One moment he was there, and the next, he was dead.
In most ways, fourteen-year-old Sophie looked and acted like her ten-years-older self. Once she got tired, she was indistinguishable from a kid; Lincoln had to carry her up the last few flights of stairs to get to Yatam’s condo. His legs were burning by the time they reached the top. Luckily, she’d woken enough for him to set her down, and she could walk the rest of the way to the bedroom. “Let’s get you settled in,” Lincoln said.
“Is sleeping here a good idea?” Sophie asked, warily eyeing the statue of Lilith. “If Yatam has been frozen, I assume something will happen to his assets.”
“Reckon so. Don’t expect anyone’s gonna try kicking us out of here for the night, at least.” He opened the door to the bedroom.
Betty was tangled up in the bed sheets, her naked backside exposed. She lifted her head to see them. Her jaw dropped, and she had to blow her hair out of her face to check the watch tossed on the night stand. “Oh no, I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“I can rest on the couch,” Sophie said, starting to back out.
“No, please, you need the bed. I didn’t mean to be sleeping in here. I just laid down for a minute after—and, well, you know. It’s been an exhausting couple of days.” Betty jumped out of bed and pulled her clothes back on.
Lincoln wasn’t the smartest guy, but he wasn’t real stupid either. Betty had only been here with one other person. “Don’t tell me that you and James—”
“What?” Betty interrupted. “Think for a hot second before finishing that question.” She jumped and shimmied into her shorts.
He glanced at Sophie, looking for backup. She was draped against the doorway with her eyes half-closed. She lifted an eyebrow sleepily when she realized Lincoln was looking, as if to ask, Why do you think this is my problem? “You and James,” Lincoln said. “It just worries me, is all. James ain’t a good man.”
“Nobody’s good all the time. His moral net is in the black, probably. But I don’t believe that you’re selflessly concerned for my well-being, and you’ve definitely got no room to criticize. End of conversation.”
He watched the wall while Betty hurriedly dressed. “Women. Swear to God, y’all like the assholes.”
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she asked. “So, what’s happening in the realm of important things? Did the plan work?”
“Pretty much.” Lincoln still felt too weird about Yatam’s choice to call it a success. “Junior’s bringing the crystal here, and Sophie’s gonna rest a little while before locking up Yatai. The ten plagues stopped before the death of the firstborn sons. And I can see sunlight, so the darkness is gone too.”
“Phew. Then if everything’s done, I’ll get out of the way.” She peered out at the sun and smiled. “It’s funny. I don’t feel relieved.”
She headed out.
“I’ll be right back,” Lincoln told Sophie. He followed Betty out to the kitchen. She didn’t look like she was stopping. “Going somewhere?”
She flashed a rueful smile. “I’m not spending another minute in this condo. I’m thrilled to have been here long enough to not die, but I’m gonna go crazy without Starbucks, and I’ve got a four-pack of frappes in my fridge if it hasn’t burned down.” Betty blushed. She was actually blushing, albeit faintly. And here Lincoln had been thinking that Betty didn’t know any shame. “This weekend hasn’t been like us. Elise and me, I mean. It probably looks childish.”
“College isn’t a bad time to still be childish.” It could have been worse. Much worse.
“I know what you mean about James, though. He’s in love with Elise, isn’t he?”
“I don’t think you much want an answer to that question,” Lincoln said. “It’s one of those answers that feels like a kick in the teeth.”
“Please, I’m not that fragile,” Betty said. “I just wanted to jump James because he’s hot and nice, but then I realized weird shit was going on, and…”
“What tipped you off?”
“I’m a witch, he’s a witch,” she said. “The whole time that we were getting it on, he was broadcasting magic. Like, I don’t think he was broadcasting to Windsong and the coven, you know? I’ve happily sexed-up guys who are mentally preoccupied, but James is next level.” She threw her hands into the air. “Anyway, I should have realized it sooner. They dance ballroom together. It’s basically foreplay.”
Lincoln couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a weird weekend.”
“God, yes,” Betty said. “Anyway, I’m going back to my place to see if anything besides bottles of coffee are recoverable. I should contact Anthony so he knows I’m okay, too.”
“Need an escort?”
“I need a break from everyone in this tower for about a week,” she said. “Including, but not limited to, Mr. Lincoln Keyes. Or Marshall. Don’t tell me which one’s right—I don’t actually care.” She threw a last, dimple-cheeked smile at Lincoln before heading downstairs. “Bye, bitch!”
Betty flitted through the doorway, and her fine blond hair caught a ray of light on the way down. Her shadow was fogged pale against the wall by the sunlight’s diffusion. Her flesh was like a ripe peach. She was life and color, and Lincoln wondered what she might have become after Genesis. If there was anyone who embodied the energy of the sidhe, sexual and electric, it would have been Betty.
If he ever got back to his own timeline, he was going to have to look her up. Find out what became of the Godslayer’s best friend.
Sophie was waiting in the bedroom when Lincoln came back. She sat on a couch by the window, chin resting on her knuckles as she watched the sunrise.
Lincoln didn’t need to have the mind-prying powers of Yatai to know that Sophie was stewing over Omar. “I’m really gonna have to find a way to fix this timeline without the Traveler,” Lincoln said, trying to keep his tone lighter than he felt. “I’m pretty sure I just Yoko’d important historic figures.”
“Do you even want to fix it?” Dew shivered along her bottom eyelashes in the dawn light.
His heart felt too heavy to keep standing. He sank to the end of the couch. “I told you I would, shortcake. I keep my promises.”
“You’ve given me no reason to mistrust in that regard,” Sophie said. “I think that you’ve gotten everything you want here, though. I’ve never seen you happier.”
Lincoln barked a confused laugh. “You think I’m happy here, watching things get destroyed?”
“Warriors die and go to Valhalla,” she said. “Some are meant for the eternal battle. You’re not among them, I don’t think, but Elise is such a warrior. She is a woman whose war will never end. And you will never want anything but to be with her in the thick of it.”
“Sophie…” Damn, he hadn’t put his thoughts in that exact order before. But that was it. “This still isn’t my Elise. Mine is the woman I met years from now—a demon. What’s happened with us here doesn’t change anything. We’ve got to fix the timeline, for your sake, and for the universe’s, and…”
“The Traveler was one of a kind,” Sophie said. “How will we fix the universe without it?”
“There’s a way,” Lincoln said. “Hell, maybe there’s a spell you can invent. I saw you in the club. You gave me magic like I’ve never seen. The timeline getting fucked up means the universe’s laws are getting real weak, and if anyone can patch the cracks, it’s Sophie Keyes. All right?”
The corner of Sophie’s mouth twitched. “All right.”
He stood up. “But first things first.”
/> “You’re going to command me to sleep, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but not for five more minutes. Gotta change these sheets.” For all his mother’s failings, she’d managed to instill him with a sense of hospitality that couldn’t be shaken, even at the weirdest times. He stripped the bed while Sophie watched.
“Omar took Heleentje away, you know,” Sophie said. “That is, once Tristan discovered our little family at the farm, he and Omar agreed to take Elin into hiding elsewhere. They said it was for her protection. After today’s events, and the way that Elise framed my entire life as Historian…” She rubbed her eyes with exhaustion. “How do I know they didn’t hurt my girl?”
“She’s not hurt right now. She’s safe inside you.” He found fresh blankets in the closet and remade the bed. Then he flipped back the corner of the comforter. “Crawl in.”
“Such a gentleman,” she murmured. “When you choose to be.”
“When have I ever not been gentlemanly?” Lincoln asked.
Sophie laughed. Loudly.
“When have I ever not been gentlemanly with you ?” he asked.
Her eyes gleamed as they narrowed to slivers. “I could write a list.” She rested on her side, blankets hugged up against her chest. “But I won’t. Not today.”
“Relax, shortcake. Good guys win. The firstborn sons of Reno survive. Now you can sleep.”
She didn’t look as though she agreed with his assessment. Truth be told, Lincoln didn’t feel like the good guys had won today. The Traveler was almost surely dead. They’d changed the timeline dramatically. The whole city had been wrecked. There would be consequences, even if he managed to get them back to the future in 2015.
He was surprised the world wasn’t falling apart around them.
PHWOOM.
The building shook. The whole city shook.
He leaped to the window in time to see the fading glow of a fireball that had struck to the west. Toxic black smoke climbed the sky in front of the mountains. The world rumbled with the roar of the impact, and Lincoln saw windows in a pawnshop across the street blast out when the shockwave hit. Yatam’s condominium tower was built strong—they barely swayed.