by Amity Hope
Gabe’s gaze turned to Ava. He was confused. Concerned.
“What?” she wondered.
He shook his head subtly and she wondered if maybe he wasn’t going to answer. But he did.
“You and I…” he said quietly. “You realize we do not have a future together, don’t you?”
He felt Ava become tense.
“If we get through this—”
“Even if we get through this,” Gabe said resignedly, “we still would not. We’re too different. Did Grier tell you what happened to me in the church on Sunday?”
Ava shook her head as distress flooded her face. “Just that you got sick. Was it…was it worse than that?”
“It was.” Gabe explained to her about the blood and the pain and the unbearable nausea. “It literally knocked me to my knees,” he admitted with a great amount of embarrassment. “You need to be with someone who…” He looked at her miserably. There seemed to be so much more to say on the matter. He could not force the words out. He did not even deserve to be the doormat that she wiped her shoes on. She had to see that. Didn’t she? He felt he should tell her and yet…he couldn’t. He decided he was too selfish to paint the picture clearly for her. Instead, he simply said, “I’m not that person for you. Even if I wanted to be, I’m not. I can’t. It isn’t even physically possible.”
“Do you want to be with me?” Ava asked. It wasn’t a whiny or petulant question. But it was demanding an answer.
“Of course I do. More than anything,” he told her, surprised that she even needed to ask.
“Then we’ll make it work,” Ava said resolutely. “I want to be with you. You deserve to be with someone who loves you.”
“I don’t deserve that,” he told her. He felt it was the truth.
“Yes, you do,” she said as she left a trail of kisses across his neck.
He tilted his body away from hers. “I don’t. You have no idea what I’ve done in my past.”
“So tell me,” Ava urged. “I won’t judge you. I promise I won’t.”
He shook his head. “Not now. I just…I can’t go into it now. Buntot.”
“Then explain it better,” she encouraged.
He sighed. He had one arm wrapped around her but the other was free. He pulled it through his hair. “What did you see? During the reaping?”
“I don’t know. So much of it was a blur. It was just impressions mostly. My cross...the one from my grandpa…?”
Gabe nodded. “It’s gone. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he would be there that night. He threw it and I have no idea where it went. But to be honest Ava…” he paused, gathering his resolve. She deserved to know. “I’m not sure I would’ve stopped him from taking it. You said you wanted to know me. But the real me? It’s not what you’re used to seeing.”
“I know.” Her voice was calm. Calmer than he had expected it to be. “But what I saw also showed me, made me feel how you’ve changed. I don’t think the real you is someone you’re used to. Not yet.”
“So because I’ve decided to do something good for once in my life that absolves me from all of the horrible things I’ve done?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe not. But it’s a start.” Her voice held so much assurance. If only he could believe her. But then she asked a question he was dreading. “What was in the flask that Rafe drank from?” She looked at Gabe but he didn’t answer. He knew she knew…even if she didn’t want the answer to be true. “Was it Azael’s blood?” He nodded. “And it gave Rafe that awful power he would not have had on his own?”
“Yes,” Gabe admitted. He gently slid Ava off of him as he got to his feet. “You know what? I’m starving.” That, at least, was the truth.
Ava grabbed his hand before he could get away. “Have you ever…?”
He looked down at her. She was looking up at him, still with so much trust. Trust that he didn’t deserve. For the first time in a while, he considered lying to her. He didn’t. Instead, he simply nodded.
He felt a wave of intense sadness roll over him. It wasn’t his, but it might as well have been. She nodded back at him as she bit her lip for a second, absorbing the full implications of what he had admitted.
“Okay,” she said as she stood to join him. She didn’t try to cover the hurt in her voice but she didn’t press him on the matter either. “Let’s go make some pancakes,” she suggested as she towed Gabe to the kitchen.
Ava carefully avoided upsetting topics for the rest of the day. Instead, they went over the plan Gabe had come up with. He described the details to her as accurately as he could. She questioned him and he answered as best he could. She asked him other questions, less damaging questions about his life, now that she knew the truth and again, he answered as truthfully as he could.
The day passed in a hazy, emotional blur. They had not heard back from Grier. Neither was sure if that was a bad sign or if it was simply a quirk of Grier being who she was. It was nearly nightfall when the unthinkable happened.
“Damn it!” Gabe screamed as he dug his hands into the arms of the couch. A look of sheer misery crossed his features.
“Gabe!” Ava cried as she lunged for him. She landed on an empty cushion instead.
***
“My wayward son has returned.”
Gabe found himself plastered on the cherry wood floor of his father’s office. Azael was seated at his desk, a wicked looking dagger lying in front of him. A silver chalice filled with a dark liquid, undoubtedly Azael’s own blood that he had used to track Gabe, was next to the dagger. He vaguely wondered if Rafe’s prediction would come true. Was his father going to flay him alive? It was a very real possibility.
Gabe scrambled to his feet. His father loathed weakness. Now was not the time to appear weak.
Azael’s fingers slithered forward, constricting around the handle of the blade as his soulless eyes cut into Gabe. He felt the icy chill of his terror as it froze him in place, thinking of all of the things that blade could be used for. Nothing that crossed his mind was too repulsive as to be out of Azael’s realm of possible punishments.
“Don’t look so forsaken. I am not angry with you,” his father said in a voice that was terrifyingly calm. “I am proud of you. Your humanity far outweighs your brother’s. And yet you have always fought it. You fight that little glimmer of yourself that would allow you to be,” he hesitated, searching for the words, “not good, necessarily but at least decent. And because of that little sparkle of humanity, I am offering you a boon, so to speak.”
Gabe’s legs nearly collapsed beneath him as liquid fear ran through his body. His limbs tingled and burned. As always, he fought for control. He met his father’s bleak eyes and waited for him to continue./p>
“If you are as attached to the girl as I believe you to be, you will agree with me that you should be the one to end her life. Because, you, my dear boy, are in quite the conundrum. My blood flows through your veins. I can find you, wherever you go. You will never be able to be with her. You will never be able to keep her safe. She cannot stay in that little cabin forever.” He flashed a wicked grin at his son. “Think of all of the ways I could lure her out. That lovely, deliciously voluptuous thing, Molly, I believe. Rafe could have great fun with her. Convince her to step off of the school’s roof. Or perhaps he could send Molly in after Ava. Think of what an interesting scenario that could lead to. Ava will be mine. And if you don’t do my bidding, Rafe will.”
The blood sloshing through Gabe’s ears nearly drowned out the words of Azael, but he needed to listen. He needed to be careful and he needed to formulate a plan. He needed to do this while trying to guard his thoughts. He’d always feared Azael could see into his head so in his presence, Gabe struggled to push down that which he could not allow his father to hear.
“Now, death is rarely delightful but,” he paused for effect and Gabe fought for the pretense of calm, “you tell me whose hands would bring her to a kinder end.”
“Rafe would torture her.�
�� Gabe’s words sounded like crushed glass, grating out against the room.
Azael let out a delighted laugh. “Indeed. And he likes to play with his prey. And what fun, wholesome little prey she is. Would you like to see?”
Gabe did not want to see but he knew better than to fight Azael. He took Gabe by the wrist, slicing his palm open, splitting it to the bone. He held his hand over the chalice, letting his son’s blood spill over his own until the chalice was nearly filled to the top.
“Just a few of the scenarios Rafe has come up with so far. A rough draft of the future, if you will. It’s not yet perfected, the way to maximize Rafe’s pleasure while maximizing Ava’s torment but he does have some clever ideas. I have no doubt he’ll soon decide on the perfect fate for her. Your brother is very creative. I will give him that.”
As much out of morbid curiosity as feigned compliance towards his father, Gabe found himself staring into the churning blood of the cup. Images of Ava’s death, torture beyond words, blood beyond measure swam before his eyes. He tried not to absorb what he saw. Yet he did not doubt the memories of this vision would be branded into his psyche for all of eternity.
He knew one thing with a gut twisting certainty. Rafe could never get a hold of Ava.
Never.
His plan had to work.
He met his father’s black, malevolent eyes and he knew that his father knew.
“Do you think I’ve never encountered a demon’s snare before?”
Gabe’s heart gave such a jolt he thought it might give out.
“I have,” Azael calmly admitted. “And yet, here I am.”
Gabe saw nothing but red, as if his heart had exploded and he was being showered in his own blood.
“You cannot stop me.” He let his words sink in before he finally spoke again. “So, who will it be? Are you going to take care of this matter for me? Or I can call Rafe in. I do believe he is only in the other room…”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do it if you promise me one thing.” He could not keep the desperation out of his voice. He knew now, as he had always feared, that his father could get into his head. Glean information without being as blatant about it as Grier had been.
Azael’s face hardened. “Are you in the position to make demands?”
“Father, I have never, in my life, been in the position to make demands,” Gabe acknowledged.
Azael smiled at his admittance. He waved a hand, indicating Gabe should proceed with his request.
“Time is nothing to you but death is forever. Let me have one full day with her.” One full day with Ava was not going to be enough. But he knew better than to ask for more.
Or he would end up with nothing.
“Agreed. And because of my generosity, I expect the same of you. I need you to agree to one small detail.”
As if he was actually asking. Gabe knew better. It was a demand. An undeniable demand.
“I would like a front row seat to this little soirée. I do believe I have earned it. I have been uncharacteristically patient with you.”
“Yes,” Gabe nodded. “Of course. Can you meet us at the church? Ava is already expecting that we will be going there. She won’t suspect anything.”
“Very well. I will see you in precisely twenty-four hours.”
Chapter 23
The discomfort of the room hit Gabe immediately, even though he had tried to brace himself. He stumbled, catching himself on a chair as he tried to assimilate his body to the discomfort of the sigils. Heat boiled through him, racing through his veins. His head pounded convulsively. He closed his eyes, letting the pain wash over him, forcing his body to absorb it. To accept it.
He expected Ava to rush to his side. He had expected to return to find her frantically pacing the room or having a much deserved break down. He had not expected to find her in what appeared to be a deep sleep on the couch. Her dark hair was fanned across the decorative throw pillow. Her chest rose and fell in a calming rhythm. Her lips slightly parted in relaxation. Only the slight, occasional twitch of her fingers led Gabe to wonder if perhaps she was not resting as soundly as she appeared to be.
He knelt on the floor beside her, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Ava?”
She didn’t even flinch at the sound of her name. He leaned back, allowing his eyes to wander over her body. He wanted to memorize it. Memorize every inch of her. He gently brushed a stray strand of hair off of her face, letting his fingers glide through the rest of her luxurious locks. He wanted to remember how silky it was. He wanted to remember how soft her skin felt against his.
He let out an anguished sigh as he took her hand in his, kissing her fingers.
He felt Grier before he heard her.
“This is not going to have a happy ending.”
“I know,” Gaspaspew Robe miserably replied. Hearing it come from the lips of an angel brought about a new kind of scorching certainty.
“You should leave her. Let her rest.”
Whether Grier had just stepped into the room or simply just stepped into his line of sight, Gabe wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he was weary of having demands constantly put upon him. He did not leave Ava’s side, instead he left his fingers entwined around hers, allowing them to absorb the tremble of her hands.
“What did you do to her?”
“She is sleeping. She had become agitated and was being bothersome.”
“She’s not resting peacefully. I can feel how troubled she is. I want to wake her up. I need to speak with her.”
“You should wait.”
“And you should know you can’t just do this to people,” Gabe told her.
She favored Ava’s resting form with a confused look. “Yes,” she said, “I can.”
Gabe sighed. “I did not mean it literally. I meant you shouldn’t do this to people just because you feel like it. It’s not right.”
Grier frowned at him. “You are going to lecture me on what is right?”
Gabe decided to ignore the question.
“You were with your father.”
It was a statement but Gabe nodded his answer, regardless.
“What did you discuss?” Grier asked.
Gabe opened his mouth to answer but Grier’s hands flashed and were upon his forehead. He felt his body convulse as she pulled his memory from him. This time was not nearly as traumatic as she pulled a single, recent memory from him as opposed to the long drawn out memories of his life.
“I see,” she told him in her typical, emotionless tone. “Azael knows of your plans then.”
“Yes,” Gabe admitted.
“But you were able to block some details from him?”
“I don’t know for sure but I think so, yes.”
“You will still carry out your plan to trap him?”
“I don’t know.” Gabe hated himself for admitting it. “I don’t know what to do. If I do as he asks, at least Ava won’t suffer. If I try to carry out our plrry">an and I fail—and failure is such a huge possibility—Ava and I will both pay. She more than me.” His breath caught in his throat at the memories of what his father had made him see.
“You are in quite a predicament.” Again, it wasn’t a question. This time, Gabe gave no response, he simply returned Grier’s unflinching gaze with one of his own.
“You understand that I cannot interfere. Your decision is yours and yours alone.”
“I know,” he bitterly replied. “What about my plan? You must know if the demon’s snare will trap Azael or not?”
“I am allowed to create the sigils you have requested. Nothing more. I do not know the outcome.”
“So if it fails, Azael will have Ava. My brother will have Ava.” His heart lurched painfully in his chest. It was a feeling he had not known until recently but he was becoming far too acquainted with.
“If your plan fails, yes.”
“Can you tell me anything? Anything else?” Gabe pleaded.
“I can tell you that your father has been planning this fo
r a very long time. He took an interest in Ava shortly after she was born. It took him much longer to choose the St. Clair’s. But as you’ve said, time is nothing to him so the fact that he waited seventeen months to place Ava with them is truly nothing. We have been watching her for years, in various degrees of proximity. It has never happened before that a demon has taken a human child and placed her with a man of God. Her mother did not want to give her up. Rafe helped with that.” Grier rattled off the facts as though she were listing them off a note card.
“Rafe?” Gabe asked in disbelief. “He would’ve only been…what? Six, maybe seven years old?”
“Rafe has been doing your father’s bidding for a very, very long time.”
Gabe listened numbly as Grier ticked off more facts. Facts that would not help him. “Her mother’s body is at the bottom of a river. Azael wiped all traces of her from this earth. If Ava were ever to search for her, she would find nothing.”
Gabe nodded absently. Nothing Grier had relayed to him would help him and he told her so.
“I am only trying to clarify, in case you have any doubt, that Azael has been toying with Ava since she was a small child. Almost as long as he has been controlling you, he has controlled certain aspects of her life.”
“I understand that. But I don’t know what to do to fix it.” His voice was anguished as he gazed at Ava’s sleeping face. He still held her hand in his, his thumb swirling across the back of her hand in a circular motion.
He glanced up He mb to see Grier staring at him, an odd expression on her face. It was odd in the simple fact that her face was typically expressionless.
“What?” he demanded.
Grier said nothing as she continued to stare at him. It took Gabe a few moments to realize just why she was staring. With his free hand, he scrubbed at his face, finding that, for the first time in his existence, his cheeks were damp with tears. He hurriedly wiped them away.
“You will do what is needed,” Grier firmly replied.
“I don’t know what that is!” Gabe yelled but Grier was gone.