by Ken Scholes
“Sway. ” Luc whispers, his brow creasing as if he had a sudden headache. He drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Unholy Hell. ”
“What?” I say. A shudder runs down my spine and Gabe pulls me close again.
“Hitler, Moses. what do they have in common?”
I’m in no frame of mind to work out a riddle. “Just tell me what’s going on.” I hate that my voice sounds so small and weak.
“You know the story of Moses. He had the ability to make people listen: to sway their opinions, their thoughts. There had never been anyone like that before. When Lucifer saw what he could do, how God worked through him, he realized he’d screwed up. The next time someone showed up with that same degree of Sway, Lucifer wasn’t going to get beat out. He fought-dirty, I might add,” he says, glaring at Luc, “and he won. We all know what happened in Nazi Germany. There hasn’t been another with that same power until now.” He shares a meaningful glance with Luc and then looks back at me. “You.”
I look at Luc, who’s standing wide-eyed and slack-jawed, horrified.
“Listen, here’s the deal. If they get to you,” Gabe juts his chin toward Luc, “influence you, you’re Hitler-but worse. If you stay with us, you’re Moses. Your power is only going to get stronger.” His jaw clenches and he shakes his head. “And you’re not naive for believing people are innately good, Frannie.”
I feel so small, my whole body collapsing down on itself as everything real, everything I’ve ever known, vanishes. Pieces of a hundred questions tease me, but I can’t put them together in a way that makes sense-except one.
“Why now?” I hear myself whisper.
“You’re coming into your own now. When you were young, we were able to Shield you, to keep you off their radar.” He shoots a glance at Luc. “But not anymore.”
My voice is still a harsh whisper. It’s all I can manage. “What do you want from me?”
He traces a finger along the collar of my shirt to my chest and taps it there, over my heart. “Just for you to follow your heart. Do what’s right.”
I bark out a mirthless laugh that doesn’t even sound like mine. “I’m no saint.”
“I never said you were. But, like it or not, this is what you are. Who you are. And my job is to be here for you-in any way you need me.”
Luc
And as he says it, I know Gabriel is right. This is what I felt in her soul. It’s why Beherit sent me out looking for her and why King Lucifer wants her so badly that he’s willing to chance breaking a rule or two.
She looks stunned-eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. “You guys got the wrong sister. You must be mixing me up with Grace.”
Gabriel nestles his face into her hair. “You’re already swinging the balance. You, Frannie. Not Mary or Kate or Grace or Maggie. You. If you have the power to transform Shit-for-Brains over there,” he glowers at me, “just imagine the difference you can make in the mortal realm. The difference you’ve probably already made without even knowing it.”
My back hits the wall as if someone pushed me, and my legs won’t hold me anymore. I slide down the wall and sit on the floor.
Sway.
Frannie’s got Sway. And if what Gabriel just implied is true, her power has never been rivaled in a mortal. He’s saying her power is what changed me-a creature of Hell. And not just my mind, but my physical being. How is that possible? Even Moses had no influence over the celestial or infernal. And if that’s true, it’s not just the masses she can sway. She has power beyond that of even King Lucifer. She could change the shape of Heaven and Hell.
My king’s words echo in my head. It’s my turn. This is my chance. I will be out from under Him-finally. King Lucifer thinks He can manipulate Heaven-maybe even the Almighty-through Frannie.
“Be careful what you wish for,” she whispers, as lost in her own thoughts as I am in mine.
There’s torment in Gabriel’s eyes as he looks into Frannie’s. “Your power is getting stronger every day. You need to see that you have pull on people’s thoughts and emotions and therefore their actions.” He glances toward me and his eyes drop to her hand, where he twines his fingers with hers. “And it’s not just people you have that effect on. You’ll always get what you want if it’s in your control.”
Frannie pulls away from him and suddenly there’s rage. Black pepper floods the room. “I want my brother back. I don’t have that,” she spits.
He looks at her with sad eyes. “The only one with control over that is God.”
All I can do is watch as her expression shifts from rage through shock into panic. “This is wrong. I’m not a saint or an angel. I’m not even a good person. I’m going to Hell. I already know that.”
Why would she think that? I look at Gabriel. His expression is pained and sickeningly sympathetic. He pulls her to his shoulder and she melts into him. When the scent of Frannie’s warm chocolate seeps through his celestial stench, I feel something cold and black wrap around my heart and squeeze. I’d kill him if I didn’t think Frannie needed him.
“What happened-the reason you think you’re going to Hell-it wasn’t your fault,” he says into her hair.
“You’re so full of shit,” she spits, pulling away. “I killed my brother.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach. The boy in the picture-that explains the haunted look in her eye when I asked about him. So much pain-the same pain that was buried so deep that first day we met, when I asked what she’d like to undo.
Gabriel is still looking at her, shaking his head. “You didn’t kill him, Frannie. It was his time. That’s all.”
It’s like watching a volcano erupt. The words spill out of her mouth like burning lava. “Yeah. Just keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better about stealing children from their families.”
Gabriel slides a little closer to her on the couch, but she moves away. “He is with his family. God called him home.”
“Well, then, your God sucks.”
I move across the room and sit next to her. I take her hand, wanting-no, needing-to do something to ease her pain.
“I think what Gabriel said is true, Frannie. If you killed him you’d already be tagged for Hell, and you’re not.”
“Well, I should be,” she says, pulling herself away from my touch.
I lift her chin with my finger, staring down into her deep sapphire eyes. “No, you shouldn’t,” I say and lean in to kiss her. For only the third time, I push my power on Frannie, to draw out all her pain and her misdirected anger. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s all I know how to do.
Frannie
I hesitate, but then I look into those black eyes that can see my soul. And when his lips touch mine, I feel everything shift, and all my anger melts away. When his eyes finally release me I feel calm, the acid in my core and the ache in my heart gone.
Gabe pulls a deep sigh and looks at me with wounded eyes, and my guilt crushes me. I need them both in ways I can’t even understand. Gabe moves across the room and sits in the chair under the window.
I drop my head and stare into my lap.
Luc squeezes me. “So, back to my original question. What the hell is happening to me? What exactly is it that I’m transforming into?” He glowers at Gabe. “Not one of you. Please, for the love of all things unholy, tell me I’m not going to become some goody-two-shoes angel. I couldn’t take it.”
Gabe glowers back. “Don’t know. Anything’s possible. Let me know if you start sprouting wings.”
I look up at Gabe. “Could he become like me? Human?”
Luc looks at me with that same hopeful expression I saw on his face earlier. Gabe answers, resigned. “It’s possible. This is unprecedented as far as I know. I have no clue what’s happening, except it’s clearly happening and it’s just as clearly significant. And you’re the key. You’re going to change the world, Frannie. This is big.”
“Big. ” I say, trying to figure out what that means. “So, are we talking, like, ‘bring
ing him to Jesus’ big,” I say, waving my hand in Luc’s direction, “or ‘virgin birth’ big?”
Luc scowls and a smile just touches the corners of Gabe’s mouth. “Based on what you’re capable of, I’d be thinking more along the lines of ‘virgin birth’ big. Although, if you could bring him to Jesus, that’d be pretty huge too.”
Luc bolts off the couch and is across the room like a shot, eyes storming. “You can’t be serious.”
“Don’t be such a doofus. If it wasn’t big, would He have sent me? Her name is Mary, after all. Could anyone without Sway convince the masses of a virgin birth? The second coming of Christ?” A grin far too mischievous to ever be considered angelic flits across Gabe’s face. “What’s wrong, Lucifer? You don’t want to be Joseph?”
Luc wheels around and braces his hands on the wall, sending up a growl that curls my hair. “Unholy Hell! This can’t be happening.” Then he spins back and stares at me, eyes wide.
I pull myself out of the couch and stand there, not sure what I’m feeling. I think about Gabe’s kiss. If that was Heaven, I want more. I remember thinking I could just live there, in that peace and love. But that’s not what he’s saying-not what he’s offering. I’m supposed to have some power, to do something with it that’s supposed to save people. And as I think about that, panic takes over, making it a little hard to breathe.
Gabe tucks me into his side and wraps his arms around me. This time I let him, ’cause I need him. I melt into him as his summer snow buries me in calm and my breathing starts to ease.
When I can get enough air, I look up at him. “What’s going to happen to me?”
His eyes are miles deep. I want to dive right into them. “Well, first off, this.” He leans in and kisses my cheek, too close to my mouth, and my heart speeds up despite his calm. “You know I’ll always be here for you. If you ever need anything,” he glares at Luc, “you know where to come.” Distress creeps into his eyes. “But after that, I’m not sure.”
I press deeper into Gabe as Luc glares at us from the window. “You’re playing a little fast and loose with those wings, don’t you think?” he spits at Gabe.
In response, Gabe pulls me tighter into his body and smirks at Luc, but I see the uncertainty in his eyes. I sink into him and let his summer snow bury me so I don’t have to think.
Chapter 18
Angels and Demons
Frannie
It’s almost comical to watch these guys. They’re so busy trying to hate each other that they don’t see how alike they are. Well. alike except for one being all dark and dangerous and the other blinding me with his radiance. But other than that.
I’m starting to get my mind around some of this. In the week since Luc and Gabe filled me in, they’ve both backed off to give me room to think. And Gabe’s backed off in other ways. We’re almost never alone together, and he’s hardly touched me. Which I’m not sure I’m happy about. I haven’t asked him why, but I’m pretty sure Luc’s comment about losing his wings might have something to do with it.
All the white in Gabe’s kitchen creates a glare, and I’m not sure Gabe’s not adding to it. He glowers at Luc, and Luc stares him down, challenging him.
“It’s beyond my comprehension how, after everything you’ve seen, you can still have that attitude. The only reason the Almighty doesn’t send another flood is that the first one was useless.”
Gabe shakes his head. “People do stuff every day to prove you wrong. Completely selfless acts of kindness.”
“I disagree. Nothing is selfless. At the bottom of every good deed, there’s a self-serving motive.”
“Dude, you need to lighten up.”
I roll my eyes. “Give it up, Gabe. He’s hopeless.” I open my calculus book on the kitchen table and push my empty ice cream bowl aside. “I know you guys are geniuses and all, but finals start tomorrow, and I’ve got to study or UCLA is gonna change their mind about me.”
Luc looks at me and smiles. “What’s the deal with UCLA anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just curious why you feel compelled to go three thousand miles away for college.”
“Well. partly ’cause it’s three thousand miles away. But really, they have the top international relations program in the country, and I’m thinking I can double major in political science or maybe Middle Eastern studies.”
Luc raises an eyebrow. “And do what?”
I feel warmth creep into my cheeks. “I think that most of the crap that happens in the world is ’cause people don’t know how to talk to each other. You know, ’cause of differences in culture or religion. Stuff like that. That’s why I started that whole pen pal thing. I wanted to try to understand. So. I guess I’m thinking I’d like to do something bigger. Not quite sure what or how. ”
Gabe smiles. His glow is blinding me again. “Lofty goals.”
“Shut up,” I say, embarrassed. I know how stupid it sounds, what I want to do, but I’ve always wanted it. I’ve always been good at talking to people, helping them find common ground. Like now, with Luc and Gabe-although I think their only common ground might be me, so I guess that doesn’t really count.
“And you think you’re going to make a difference.” Luc’s expression is serious now.
“Probably not. But it can’t hurt to try,” I say, watching my fingers twirl the pencil on my calculus book.
“You will make a difference, Frannie.” Gabe is suddenly as serious as Luc.
“Will I? I’m not sure I’ll get the chance.”
Luc and Gabe share a wary glance. They know I’m right. Then Luc looks hard at Gabe, and, behind his eyes, there’s anguish. “Tag her.”
“You’re even dumber than you look,” Gabe says with a sardonic smile and a shake of his head.
“What’s stopping you?”
Gabe’s expression darkens as his eyes shift to mine. “Frannie’s stopping me.”
My stomach’s in my throat. “Hold up. How am I going to have a life if I’m tagged for Heaven? How is that better than being tagged for Hell?”
I watch as Luc struggles with the answer. “The Almighty. ” He hesitates and glances at Gabe for confirmation. Gabe nods and Luc continues. “He won’t use you as. poorly.”
“But He’ll still use me. It won’t be my life anymore.” Resentment and anger are threatening to take control of me. I stuff them into the black pit. “I don’t want to be Moses or Hitler. I want to be Frannie.”
Gabe finally speaks. “If you’re tagged for Heaven, I can protect you. It would be extraordinarily difficult to reverse your tag, and eventually they’ll stop trying. If you remain untagged, they’ll keep coming for you.”
“And so will you.” My heart sinks. There’s no way out of this. Suddenly I feel claustrophobic-trapped and terrified. I slide my calculus book in front of me with a shaking hand. “So, do you guys get this stuff?” I say, needing to change the subject.
Luc’s worried gaze lingers a moment longer, but he takes my cue. He pulls my book toward him. “Which one are you working on?”
I slip my paper out from under his fingers, and he jerks his hand.
“Ow!”
Gabe cracks a smile. “Ow? You’re kidding, right?”
When Luc lifts his hand and turns it over, a tiny bead of crimson blood is sprouting on the tip of his middle finger. A paper cut.
“Well, that answers that,” Gabe says.
Luc just stares, openmouthed, at the growing bead of blood. Then he turns to me with a tentative smile on his lips just before he loops his other hand behind my neck and pulls me into a kiss.
When he finally lets me go, I look into his smiling eyes. “What did I miss?” I ask, a little breathless and totally confused.
He grins. “Demons don’t bleed.”
Gabe’s eyes are storming as Luc lets me go and I try not to feel guilty. “And neither do angels,” he says.
Luc
I try to wrap my mind around what this means on the way home, but I’m
having a hard time. Am I mortal? Am I turning human? I think about what that would mean for Frannie and me as she sits next to me in the Shelby with her head on my shoulder. My pulse pounds in my ears-something new-as I think about all the possibilities. Can we be together? Really together?
But a downside of turning human is that the thread that binds me to the nefarious is thinning. Good and bad. Good because I’ve decided that they’re a bunch of shitbags and I really don’t want to be in their heads anymore. Bad because I can’t tell when they’re here. If I can’t tell when they’re here, I can’t protect Frannie from them.
I take my right hand off the wheel to pull a small box out of the console between the seats and wrap my arm around her shoulders, holding it in front of her face. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“Well, how it works is you take the box out of my hand and open it,” I say with a grin.
“Jerk,” she mumbles, grabbing the box and yanking it open. She pulls the crucifix out by the chain and watches it dangling there for a long minute.
“Put it on. The cross is iron with gold edging, and the Jesus is silver and platinum.”
She looks at me, a cynical expression almost masking the mischievous gleam in her eye. “I can see that. If you’re trying to lure me into bed with gifts, this was the wrong choice.”
I can’t help chuckling. “That really wasn’t my intention, but I’ll tuck that tidbit away for future reference.”
“So. is this a joke?” she says eyeing me warily.
“No. It’s a weapon.”
“I thought it was vampires that have a problem with crosses.”
“They do. But in this case, the other side keeps saying ‘Jesus saves’ and I’m hoping they’re right.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Every demon has a weakness-something programmed into us by King Lucifer at the time of our creation to keep us from becoming too powerful.” A product of His paranoia, no doubt. “Mine is gold. I don’t know what Belias’s is, or Avaira’s, but this crucifix hits on the most common weaknesses. I want you to wear this, and if either of them comes near you, gouge it into them or scratch them with it. It will at least slow them down a little.”