by Ryals, R. K.
Conor was suddenly at my back, his hand on my shoulder, his eyes hard.
"Sophia," Lucas said quietly, his voice tinged with warning.
Monroe and Amber scurried to the side of the room with Monroe clutching an amulet she wore around her neck until her knuckles were white. Her mouth was moving, and I knew by the sudden feel of power surrounding me that she was muttering a protection spell. It came in handy having a witch for a best friend. My father didn't move.
"The Seal," Sophia repeated.
I stared at her, pushing myself off of the floor, my eyes narrowed. If I had still been bound to Marcas, my pupils would have been red. There's this funny thing about broken hearts. A shattered heart can't feel fear. One corner of my mouth lifted, and my fist tightened.
"No."
It was one word. It was simple. It was complicated.
Sophia growled. "Do you realize what you are doing?"
I looked down at the Seal, the memory of Marcas' fading face etched clearly in its jeweled surface.
"I honestly have no idea, but that's the point isn't it?"
"Dayton," Conor said gently. I ignored him.
"Sophia's been ordered to take the ring. By refusing her, you become a traitor to Heaven," Lucas interjected quietly.
I looked at him.
"It's no different than what Marcas did for me. He's a traitor to Hell."
Lucas laughed, but it was humorless. Cold, dark, and humorless.
"Hell isn't Heaven. You'd be sentencing yourself to death. Careful, Dayton. The decision you make now will cost you your life."
"Heaven, Hell, no to this, no to that . . . either way I'm screwed. I'm sick of the 'it's my way or the highway' mentality. Screw it. The Seal remains with me."
Lucas held up his hands and looked briefly at my father. Bezaliel did nothing more than nod his head, his eyes on me.
"Then none of us have the right to stop Sophia. The Seal is her mission. The punishment is hers."
There was a moment of betrayal, the fleeting feeling sweeping over me as I avoided my father's gaze. Sophia smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile, but it wasn't hateful either. It was sad.
The protection spell surrounding me never lessened and Conor never moved away. I looked at Monroe.
"I'm Wiccan. I don't think the rules apply to me," she said with a shrug, her gaze moving to Sophia.
I glanced over my shoulder at Conor. His brow rose.
"I'm a gargoyle in exile. I don't think I can damage my reputation more than I already have."
The two of them weren't thinking. They were being foolish. I loved them for it. Conor's "exile" comment threw me a little, but I let it go for now. I turned to Sophia.
"I won't give up the Seal."
Her face was fierce, determined.
"You will forfeit your life for the ring then?"
I nodded.
"If you want the Seal, you will have to kill me for it."
Sophia inclined her head.
"Then so be it."
The attack was vicious, tearing through Monroe's protection spell with enough force it threw Monroe into the living room wall. The white magic that flowed through me then was sharp and extremely painful. My body wasn't physically prepared, and I flew backward into Conor. His arms went around my waist, and he turned to stone, his back to Sophia to protect me from the barrage.
I tugged on the magic in my chest. It felt different now that Marcas' power was gone, but it came easily, and its strength surprised even me. Conor was sagging, and I knew he couldn't hold Sophia off much longer. I looked up into his stone face, a perfect rendition of the friend I had always known and loved, and I placed the palm of my hand against his cool cheek. It was startling to see him this way. It was a part of him I had never known until recently.
"Let me go," I said softly.
I loved that Conor and Monroe wanted to protect me. I'd do the same for them, but this was my fight. I wouldn't have them killed trying to protect something that didn't have the same value for them as it did for me. Their gesture of loyalty was enough.
Conor's stone eyes stared back at me, the gaze eerily frozen before the front of his face suddenly transformed. It was flesh again, and his gaze was soft.
"Let me go," I repeated.
"She could kill you," Conor said.
"It's my choice."
My resolve must have been obvious because he simply nodded once before ducking away. I was ready for his absence, and my power bubbled out around me, a shield against the magic being thrown my way by Sophia. She didn't hold back.
I concentrated on the light in my chest, calling to it before finally shoving it toward Sophia. She didn't even stumble. She was an ancient Angel. I was a beginner. But I had a cause. It had to be enough.
A stream of light slammed into my bubble, and I felt it slide through. My back was against the wall before I even had a chance to blink. Sheet rock crumbled around me. I felt my power scramble for possible injuries, healing quickly as I pushed away from the debris now surrounding me.
"There's time," Sophia said through gritted teeth, and my eyes met hers.
Though minute, there was compassion in her gaze. I stood carefully, forcing my legs still despite my weakness. As a Naphil, my body didn't necessarily need food and water to survive even though it helped. It wasn't dehydration causing me to falter. It was the pain I had endured having Marcas' power ripped from my system. I hadn't realized how much I had come to depend on it, how much I had begun depending on him.
"Did you ever truly love him?" I asked Sophia quietly.
She paused, her hand raised.
"He did what was right. He knows where he stands. Do you?" she asked.
I laughed.
"You don't get it, do you? You never even considered him, did you? You loved him, and then you chose the greater good. You got the best of both sides." Sophia's jaw tightened, and I took a step forward, my power building. "That wasn't love, Sophia. He, on the other hand, offered you everything he was."
"His alternative was Hell. It isn't hard to walk away from," she defended.
I could see it in her eyes now. Regret.
"Isn't it? He had power there. He could have been a ruler."
Sophia sneered.
"And you care so much about our relationship?"
I shook my head.
"Not yours. Mine. He sacrificed everything for you. You refused him. Thank you for that, by the way, because some way, somehow, he chose me next. And I won't make the same mistake. I don't think I can pass up such an offer. So, do me a favor, would you? Tell me how to get him out of this damn ring!"
The command was loud, controlled. I was proud of my composure. Sophia lowered her hands.
"A Demon once trapped in the Seal cannot be released."
I didn't falter.
"I don't believe that."
Sophia's hands lifted again, and I took another step forward.
"The Seal," Sophia said.
Anger consumed me, and with it, a power so strong I was instantly drunk with it. My hand was suddenly on fire, and I looked down at it. The Seal was glowing. The ring didn't like the anger, but it responded to it. Realization dawned, and I lifted my hand.
"I'm not playing follow the leader any more. I'm doing this my way."
"Dayton," Lucas warned.
I ignored him.
"Tell me! How do I release him?"
Sophia's face darkened, and the power she sent my way was strong enough I knew it was meant to kill. I felt more than saw Conor and Monroe move forward desperately, but I had the advantage now. The Seal glowed as I turned my palm toward Sophia. I didn't deflect her power. I absorbed it. I felt it running up and down my body, the electric tingles as painful as it was thrilling.
"Tell me!" I ordered again, taking yet another step forward with a confidence born from fearlessness.
Sophia's eyes narrowed.
"I wasn't sent to guard the Seal because I was weak," Sophia said, her eyes locked on mine.
<
br /> And that's when I felt it. Power. Lots and lots of power. It was her power, but it was more than that. I felt other Angels. How she drew on their power, I had no idea, but I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it wasn't just her power coming for me. I fisted my hand, the Seal so bright now, it was blinding. It was too much power. I wouldn't be able to absorb it, and I certainly wouldn't be able to deflect it all.
I started to duck, but before I even had a chance to move, a hand was suddenly wrapped around my fist, and I screamed at the pain that shot up my arm. It was like liquid fire, hotter than the burn I'd felt from my anger, and when my gaze moved upward, I was surprised to find my eyes landing on the scowling, dogged face of Luther Craig, Marcas' arrogantly confident brother. He barely spared me a glance as he lifted my hand, using the Seal and his power to help deflect Sophia's attack.
Never let it be said I don't catch on quickly. Despite the pain, I threw my power out with his, letting them mix as they collided with Sophia's. It took Luther and me everything we had to remain on our feet as the power exploded. Luther released my hand, and I leaned over, my breathing heavy as I rested my palms on my thighs.
"Damn it that hurt!" I complained. "Where the hell did you come from?"
The last time I had seen Luther, he had been standing with the rest of us on the High Place of Sacrifice in Petra. Now that Lucifer wasn't attacking us, I assumed he wouldn't be involved anymore. There was a price on his head. There was a price on the heads of all the sons and daughters of Lilith and Cain. He should be hiding.
Luther grinned wickedly before turning his gaze to Sophia.
"You Angels have an impossible flair for the dramatic," he said.
Sophia's hands fisted, her jaw tightening as Luther nodded at my father. I watched the exchange incredulously. Had Bezaliel known Luther was coming?
"Damn, but you're a nuisance," Lucas roared, although, for once, even the fallen Angel appeared somewhat relieved.
Sophia stepped forward.
"You Demons have the uncanny ability of appearing at inopportune moments," she accused.
Luther winked at her.
"Chaming, Winged One. Did you win my brother with that line? Amazing his previous choice in women. I dare say his tastes have improved."
He grinned, running a tongue over his sudden fangs. Sophia scowled.
Luther held his hands up, a scorch mark visible on the palm he'd used to grip my hand. It was already healing, but it was hideous. The smell of burning flesh permeated the small room.
"It appears we are at a stalemate. Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Luther said, his eyes on my father.
There was hidden meaning beneath those words, and I watched as Bezaliel stepped forward, his expression a mix between amusement and condescension.
"She's my daughter after all."
Luther bowed his head. It is the only time I had ever seen him show respect.
"And it's a wise father she has."
Bezaliel smiled grimly. "No, I have failed her in many ways." His gaze met mine. "You love your Demon enough to die?"
I nodded dumbly. If he was trying to help me, why had he let Sophia attack me without intervening?
"Because I needed to know where your loyalties lay," Bezaliel said, his tone serious.
I rolled my eyes.
"Let me guess, you can read my thoughts?" I asked.
My father chuckled, and a memory swept over me. It was my dream, it was reality, a large man with his hands over my eyes telling me to look for the light.
"I can do a lot of things," Bezaliel said, his eyes shining. I just bet he could.
Sophia was outraged. Her face twisted, and I took a step back. For an Angel, she looked suddenly monstrous.
"You would help her knowing she intends to release the Demon?"
I felt hope rise in my chest. Sophia had insinuated there was no way to release a Demon trapped by the Seal. Her current words contradicted that.
"Screw your morals for once, Angel. Try being romantic," Luther said with a devious half smile.
Sophia grunted.
"This is not a joking matter, Demon."
"Never a joke, Sophia. There is a Civil War brewing in Hell. There is chaos. Lucifer is angry. There is the possibility of war on Earth. Marcas was Lucifer's choice for a second. If he were to fight on Heaven's side, we already have an advantage," Bezaliel said firmly.
If Sophia was ancient, my father was beyond that. She respected him, but not enough to side with an Exile and a hybrid Demon.
"You would risk releasing a Demon Lucifer could use to his own advantage in hopes that he would join our side. You're an Exile. Your loyalties are already questionable. I certainly don't trust his."
"I do," I whispered.
Sophia's glare moved my way.
"Do you? You two are no longer bound. Do you believe he loves you enough to stay with you now there's no reason to stay? You? A Naphil, and a very young Naphil at that?"
Doubt flared, causing a sick feeling deep within my stomach. It was hard not to question myself. I thought back on the basement. The night Damon had sent me there, I had thought I'd heard Marcas' voice in my head. He'd told me he loved me, but had it been real? The voice had been distant, almost indistinguishable.
I looked at Sophia, the doubt hidden, my thoughts barred. Marcas had sacrificed himself for me. That went beyond any magical bond. If he had only been in it for the bond, he never would have sought to unbind us.
"I trust him," I said easily before turning to my father. "Tell me how to release him."
My eyes were locked on Bezaliel's but it was Luther who answered.
"You have to trap yourself in the ring."
"What?" Conor roared.
Monroe and Amber gasped. No one else seemed surprised in the least. I didn't understand.
"Trap myself? How?"
Monroe moved away from the wall.
"Tell me you're not considering it," she said. I avoided her gaze.
"How?" I asked again.
Conor moved up next to me.
"The Seal will only trap a Demon. Will it even accept an Angel?" he asked
Bezaliel's gaze didn't move from mine.
"It will if the Angel has Demon blood in her system."
It suddenly made sense why Luther was present.
"Oh, my God!" Monroe breathed.
Conor didn't say a word, but I could feel his disapproval in the way he leaned away from me. I glanced at him.
"If you were me, and this mystery girl you left behind was Marcas, tell me you wouldn't make the same decision," I whispered.
Conor didn't answer me, but his jaw tightened and his eyes lowered, and I knew he'd make the same exact decision. My hand found his.
"There's no guarantee you'll be able to escape the ring," Lucas interrupted, and my gaze moved to the fallen Angel standing stoically next to my father.
"But there's a chance?" I asked.
If there was even a small chance, I was willing to do it. Lucas nodded.
"So what? I drink Luther's blood then give the Seal to one of you?" I asked.
Sophia stepped between Bezaliel and me, giving me her back as she faced my father.
"I won't allow this."
Bezaliel's gaze was cold.
"You could not fight me without brutal injuries that will put you out of commission for a very long time. You would be no help to anyone."
I watched as her elegant shoulders slumped. I had fought her briefly. Her powers had been incredible. It made me wonder at Bezaliel's.
"And you'd let your own daughter do this?"
Bezaliel frowned.
"You think you know what is best, Sophia. I have been an Exile for a long time. I have been watching, documenting the unrest between Heaven and Hell. I know the players well, and Marcas has been primed since birth. I knew him only as a major player in Hell. Lucifer has been keenly watching him since his conception. His connection to Dayton and Damon surprised me. But Marcas has also been a champion for
Heaven when he never had a reason to be. Forget not, I have seen your own indiscretions, Young One."
Sophia blanched.
"He belongs to Hell."
"And you belong to Heaven," Bezaliel countered.
He didn't have to say anything more. Whatever he meant to convey to Sophia, he did it with his eyes. She stepped back.
"I will hold the Seal."
I shook my head.
"You will not," I said pointedly. I looked at my father. "What do I do?"
Bezaliel's face softened, and he moved toward me. His hand lifted, his large palm cradling my face. He closed his eyes briefly, and I had the sudden urge to both pull away and to fall into his touch. This was my father. The man I had always known as Daniel. He had protected me, raised me . . . left me. And I still loved him. My life was so NOT typical.
Bezaliel's eyes opened.
"You will drink blood from Luther. The ring will accept you then, but it must be quick. It will not be long before the ring realizes its error, and Luther's blood will be purged. Your time in the Seal will then be numbered. I can make it hold you only so long once it realizes you are not a Demon."
I nodded. Simple enough, right?
"And I get Marcas out how?"
Bezaliel shook his head.
"I am honestly not sure. This has never been tried before. There is no way to know what you will be faced with inside the Seal. This will be up to you. I cannot tell you how to release him."
There went simple. I glanced at the group.
"I won't let Sophia keep the Seal," I said stubbornly.
I looked briefly at Monroe and knew instantly she wasn't powerful enough yet. As for Bezaliel, I still didn't trust my own father enough. I trusted him to protect whoever had the Seal as long as I was inside, but I didn't trust him to keep it. I didn't want to place myself in his hands. Literally.
My decision made, I slipped the Seal off hurriedly before I had time to change my mind. I spun, placing the ring quickly on Conor's large hand. The shock on his face was apparent. I wrapped the hand with the Seal tightly within my own, my eyes on his.
"Don't let them have it," I begged.
His other hand came up to cover mine.
"God, Red. You're really going to do this."
I just stared at him, and he sighed before bowing his head.
"You know I'll protect it with my life."