Marielle accompanied Connor to where the first team was gathering.
Shanna dashed into the cafeteria and ran to her husband in the first group. “Are you leaving now?”
“Yes.” Roman embraced her and kissed her brow. “Did Father Andrew make it?” When Shanna shook her head, he looked at Marielle. “Would you say a blessing for us?”
“Of course.” Marielle nodded, not wanting to admit that she feared her prayers were no longer heeded. Last night, she’d begged in vain for a Healer to help Sean Whelan.
She cleared her throat. “May the Lord bless us and keep us. May His light shine upon us, and may He return us all safely to our loved ones.”
Everyone mumbled an amen. Some crossed themselves.
Marielle hugged Connor tight. “Please, be careful.”
“If it gets ugly, hide in the woods. Stay alive.” He kissed her temple.
Roman cleared his throat.
Marielle turned to see him and Shanna watching her and Connor curiously.
“I have to hold her to teleport her,” Connor grumbled.
“I have to hold him, too.” Marielle slipped her arms around his neck.
“Why do you have to go?” Shanna asked her.
“I have to do my part to make sure Casimir is defeated,” Marielle replied. “I believe it will convince the Archangels to let me back into heaven. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this is happening by Mount Rushmore, where I lost my wings. It should be where I can get them back.”
“Oh, I see.” Shanna gave her a sad look. “Then you might be leaving us tonight?”
“Perhaps.” Marielle felt Connor’s arm tighten around her. “I can’t be sure this will work.”
Shanna embraced her, then hugged her husband again.
“Ye think ye’re leaving tonight?” Connor whispered.
“I’m not sure. I don’t really know if I can ever get back.”
“But if they come for you tonight, ye’ll go?”
The thought of leaving Connor brought tears to her eyes. “I guess.”
“That was why ye wanted to be with me last night. Ye thought it was our last chance?”
She blinked away the tears and nodded. “I will always love you, Connor.”
“Time to go,” Angus announced.
Connor pulled her tight in a fierce hug, then everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-four
Connor eased forward and peered around a tree. Casimir and a small group of his minions were at the base of Mount Rushmore on a small stage. In front of them, aluminum bleachers ascended a hill to the lookout terraces and buildings that housed gift shops and restaurants for tourists.
He spotted Corky and her cameraman midway up the hill on the first lookout terrace. Below her, people sat on the bleachers. Some were Malcontents holding knives. Others were mortal, and by the blank looks on their faces, he assumed they were all under vampire mind control.
He moved quietly past Casimir’s inept guards, then dashed back to Angus and the first team.
“Hostages,” he whispered. “About fifty-five mortals. Sitting on bleachers, eleven to each row. Behind each row of mortals, there’s a row of Malcontents, armed with knives.”
Emma winced. “If we attack, they’ll start killing the mortals.”
“Casimir is surrounded by five bodyguards,” Connor continued. “There are three guards on this side just inside the woods, and probably a few more on the other side. We should take out them out first.”
Angus nodded. “Jean-Luc, take three men and teleport to the other side. Kill any guards over there. Quietly.”
“Got it.” Jean-Luc motioned for Dougal, Ian, and Phineas to follow him. The four men sped up the hill.
“I’ll surrender to Casimir,” Roman whispered.
Angus flinched. “Nay.”
“I’m the one he wants the most,” Roman argued. “I’ll offer myself if he lets the mortals go. It’ll buy us some time till the second team arrives, and if we can get the hostages released, then our guys can attack.”
Angus sighed. “We’ll do that as a last resort. First, let’s get rid of the guards.”
“I’ll show you where they are,” Connor whispered as he pulled a dagger from the sheath beneath his knee sock.
He weaved through the woods back toward the monument. Angus, Emma, Roman, and Marielle moved alongside him. He stopped when he spotted the three guards.
A twig snapped beneath Marielle’s foot, and the guards turned toward them. She hit them with a blast of air, but it barely knocked them back a few feet.
Connor noted the shocked look on her face before he threw his dagger. It thudded into the heart of the first guard, turning him to dust.
Before the second guard could yell out a warning, the third one snapped his neck and plunged a knife into his heart.
Angus froze, his arm raised and ready to throw his dagger.
The third guard dropped his knife and held up his hands. “Don’t kill me,” he whispered in heavily accented English. “I am Stanislav.”
“Aye.” Angus lowered his arm. “What can ye tell us?”
“Casimir thinks you will surrender to save mortals.” Stan looked them over, frowning. “Is all the men you have?”
“Nay,” Angus said.
Stan nodded. “Casimir make big mistake. He set Malcontents behind mortals to slit throats, but last row is all Malcontents. We teleport behind them—”
“And take out the whole row at once. Good plan.” Angus removed his cell phone from his sporran. “I’ll text the plan to Jean-Luc, and see if they’ve finished off the guards.”
While Angus waited for a reply, Connor turned to Marielle. “What happened to yer blast?” he whispered.
She winced. “I’m afraid I’m losing my power.”
She was becoming human. And far too vulnerable to be here. “Stay here in the woods,” he told her.
“The other side is ready. Let’s go.” Angus motioned for his team to follow.
Connor glanced back to make sure Marielle was staying put. She lifted a hand in a halfhearted wave.
They moved up the hill to be even with the last row of bleachers. A flash of light came from the woods on the other side. Jean-Luc and his group were ready.
With their swords drawn, the Vamps teleported behind the last row of Malcontents and stabbed them all through the chest.
Casimir and his bodyguards yelled, and the rest of his army faced the Vamps with weapons drawn. The mortals sat eerily still and facing front, their minds still under control.
“Drop your weapons!” Casimir yelled at them. “Drop them or I start killing mortals!”
The Vamps hesitated.
One of Casimir’s bodyguards pointed at Stanislav. “Traitor!”
Casimir’s eyes narrowed. He held his left arm close to his chest, bent at a strange angle with a glove on his left hand, but with his other arm, he motioned to another bodyguard. The guard casually walked up to the bleachers and slit a mortal’s throat.
Connor cursed silently.
“Do I need to kill another?” Casimir asked.
Roman dropped his sword with a clatter. “I surrender. It’s me you want. Let the mortals go.”
Casimir smirked. “I’ll let a mortal go for each one of you who dies.”
Connor glanced at his watch. The second team would arrive in a few minutes. They needed to stall. They’d killed off more than a dozen of Casimir’s men, but he still had forty more.
“I doona believe ye’ll let any of the mortals go,” Angus shouted.
“I’ll prove it.” Casimir pointed at Roman. “After I kill you, I’ll let the first one go.”
“Agreed.” Roman walked slowly down the steps toward the stage.
Casimir grinned and glanced up at Corky. “Be sure to get this recorded. I want to watch Roman’s death every night.”
“Will do, sweetheart!” Corky yelled back.
Roman reached the stage.
“Check him f
or weapons,” Casimir ordered.
Two of his bodyguards frisked Roman and found two knives, which they tossed onto the stage.
Casimir snorted. “Did you think you were going to kill me, monk? You were always a weakling.” He motioned to his guards. “Bring him closer. Make sure he’s facing the camera.”
The guards dragged Roman over to Casimir.
Connor checked his watch. Bugger. Still two minutes to go. He caught Angus’s eye and motioned with his head toward the stage.
Angus nodded.
Connor teleported to the stage along with Angus, and they killed two bodyguards.
Casimir clutched Roman with his gloved hand and moved Roman in front of him as a shield. “Kill three mortals!”
Three Malcontents in the bleachers slit the throats of their captives. The remaining mortals still sat there, expressionless.
“Drop your weapons, or I’ll kill three more!” Casimir shouted.
Connor and Angus tossed their swords on the stage. A group of Malcontents ran up onto the stage. Some grabbed their swords and took their weapons, while others seized them and pinned their arms behind their backs.
Casimir smiled. “Angus and Connor. Thank you for joining us. Now I can record myself killing you when I’m done with Roman.” With his good arm, he put a knife to Roman’s throat. “Are you recording, Corky?”
Corky screamed as her cameraman suddenly fell off the balcony and plummeted twenty feet to the next level.
Connor spotted Marielle slipping back behind a tree. She must have blasted enough air to make the cameraman fall.
Corky levitated down to her fallen cameraman. “You stupid fool!” She whipped out a knife and stabbed him, turning him to dust. “How dare you fail our king!”
She picked up the camera and grinned. “It’s still working, sweetheart!”
“Thank you, my queen.” Casimir glanced at Angus when a beeping sound came from his watch. “What is that?”
“The sound of yer final defeat,” Angus replied.
With a loud whooping noise, Vamps and shifters erupted from the woods. The Malcontents forgot all about slaying their mortal victims when they saw a huge Kodiak bear, five wolves, a panther, and a tiger charging toward them.
Screams, roars, and the clashing of swords filled the air. Connor ripped Roman from Casimir’s grasp. Casimir jumped back, flailing his knife. Connor looked about for a weapon. He recalled the sword he’d left at the top of the monument, but that was too far away. Empty-handed, he jumped at Casimir, but the coward vanished.
“Dammit!” Connor ducked when a Malcontent took a swing at him with his sword.
On the bleachers, the mortals came to and began screaming. Casimir’s mind control over them had broken when he teleported away.
“You will drop your weapons!” Casimir bellowed from the top of Mount Rushmore. “Drop them or I will kill your priest!”
Connor looked up and gasped.
The fighting stopped. The mortals ran screaming up the stairs to the exit.
Casimir stood on top of George Washington’s head, his knife in his right hand. Nadia was dragging Father Andrew toward him.
“Oh God, no,” Roman breathed.
“Drop your weapons and surrender!” Casimir screamed as he pulled Father Andrew close.
“Don’t do it,” the priest yelled.
Roman tossed down the weapon he had managed to grab from a fallen Malcontent. “Let him go! Take me instead!”
The Vamps dropped their weapons. The Malcontents pointed their swords at them.
Casimir glared at them. “Now swear your allegiance to me.”
“Let him go!” Roman yelled. “Let him go, and I’ll swear.”
“No!” Father Andrew shouted. “Don’t do it, Roman!”
Casimir laughed. “This reminds me of the good old days. You remember, don’t you, Roman? Remember the time when I invaded your old monastery and killed all the monks? All those innocent old men who had raised you?”
Roman paled.
Casimir sneered down at him. “I’m going to kill you anyway, so I might as well watch you suffer first.” He stabbed Father Andrew in the chest and tossed him off the monument.
“No!” Roman levitated up to catch the priest in his arms.
Rage erupted in Connor, snapping his vision blue, freezing the blood in his veins. He teleported to the top of the monument and grabbed the claymore he’d left behind a week ago. With a war cry, he beheaded Nadia.
Casimir whirled around. His eyes widened with fear.
“Stop!” Corky shouted.
Connor glanced back, his vision still tinted blue.
Corky had teleported to the top of the mountain with the camera. “If you kill him, I will spread the video all over the Internet and tell everyone that vampires are real.” She lifted the camera. “I’m recording now.”
“Drop your sword,” Casimir hissed. “You don’t want the whole world to know about us. It would be the end of us all.”
Connor shook with rage. He turned to Casimir. “It is yer end tonight.” He stabbed him through the chest and turned Casimir to dust.
“No!” Corky screamed.
Connor whipped around to kill her, too, but she vanished, taking the camera with her.
Marielle screamed when she saw Father Andrew stabbed and thrown off the cliff.
“Bunny! Can you hear me? Please come. Please save him.” She repeated her plea over and over as she scrambled down the hill, dodging the trees.
Meanwhile, the battle had started up again. Vamps and shifters attacked the Malcontents, shouting and roaring their fury. Thank God the mortals were managing to flee.
She reached the bottom and weaved her way through the fighting to where Roman knelt on the stage with Father Andrew in his arms.
“Father!” Marielle fell to her knees beside him. Tears filled her eyes. “I’m praying for a Healer to come. Please stay with us!”
Roman had a bloodstained hand pressed against the Father’s wound, but blood was still seeping out. “Let me take you to a hospital.”
The priest shook his head. His face was pale and clammy with sweat. “My time has come.”
“Don’t say that!” Roman shouted. “Oh God help me, I should have never dragged you into my world.”
Father Andrew gave him a weak smile. “I don’t regret a moment of it.”
Connor materialized beside Marielle, his face haggard.
She reached up to touch him. “Are you all right?”
He shook his head slightly as he regarded the priest. “I have avenged you. I hope it will give you peace.”
“You killed Casimir?” Roman asked.
Father Andrew coughed, then lifted a trembling hand to Connor. “My son, you know what I really want from you.”
Connor’s mouth twisted, then he fell to his knees and clasped the priest’s hand. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been . . . almost five hundred years since my last confession.”
“Tell me,” Father Andrew whispered.
A tear rolled down Connor’s cheek. “I . . . have murdered in a fit of rage.” He glanced up to the top of the monument. “Twice.”
Father Andrew nodded. “I will pray for you.” He looked at Marielle. “Now I wish to finally be touched by an angel.”
“Father, no.” Tears streamed down her cheek.
Blood trickled from the side of his mouth. “I’m in pain, child. Please let me go.”
Marielle glanced at Roman through her tears, and he nodded. A pink tear ran down his face.
“Dear soul, your Father loves you greatly.” Marielle laid a trembling hand on the priest’s brow.
He didn’t die. His soul didn’t open for her. He merely sighed and fell into a painless coma. With a gasp, she lifted her hand. Was she no longer a Deliverer?
“Marielle.” Zackriel appeared close by. “I have come for this soul.”
“Have I ceased to be an angel?” she whispered.
“Who are you talking
to?” Roman asked.
Zackriel knelt beside her. “You are very close to being completely human.”
Another tear slipped down her face. “You’re not taking me with you tonight, are you?”
“It is not yet your time.” Zackriel rested a hand on Father Andrew’s brow. “Dear soul, your Father loves you greatly.”
Marielle saw the priest’s soul open and his spirit lift out. Zackriel stood and moved close to the spiritual form of Father Andrew who was smiling at her, Connor, and Roman.
She stood and bowed to the priest. “God be with you, dear soul.”
Zackriel wrapped an arm around the priest. “It is time for us to go.”
“Will I ever be able to go back?” Marielle asked.
Zackriel smiled at her sadly. “It is still possible. But only if you really want to.” His wings fluttered out, and he vanished, taking Father Andrew’s soul with him.
“What just happened?” Connor asked.
Marielle gazed up at the stars while tears rolled down her face. “Father Andrew is going to heaven.”
Chapter Twenty-five
An hour later, they were all back in the cafeteria at Romatech. Marielle sat quietly in a corner, watching the friends she had made in the seven nights that she’d been on Earth. They had succeeded in defeating the Malcontents, but there was no celebrating.
The Vamps sipped from bottles of Blissky and Bleer. The shifters indulged in real whisky and beer.
After Connor had teleported her back, he’d hugged her fiercely. “I thought ye were leaving.”
“Not tonight.”
He slumped into a cafeteria chair. For the last hour, he hadn’t moved or spoken a word.
At the end of the battle, the Vamps and shifters had quietly cleared away all signs of the struggle. Piles of dead vampire dust were swept into the woods. Weapons were gathered and returned to Romatech. Bloodstains were washed away. A group of Vamps swept through the area, looking for mortals and wiping their memories of the night’s events.
Roman had teleported Father Andrew’s body back to his church. Now he returned to the cafeteria, his eyes red and swollen.
Shanna ran up to embrace him. Her eyes were red and swollen, too. “What did you tell the other priests?”
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