The End of Days

by A. E. Watson

  “From the moment Wyatt was conceived I suspected something about it wasn't adding up. I never knew for sure. But I doubted it was ever your daft friend. It’s not my place to reveal the Antichrist to you, so I never said anything.”

  “You must see why I cannot do this.” I sniffle and nod. “He’s not evil. I can save him. I can figure out a way to save him before Lucifer gets his grubby hands on him.”

  “Do you recall me telling you that I had to kill my brother, my own brother?” His eyes shimmer with emotion.

  “Yes.”

  “It was Jonathan. No one else knows this. His death has always been blamed on Lucifer, but it was I. Of course I knew of his guilt over the affair with Gretel. He swore it wasn't him. He had been persuaded as if forced by magic. When I touched him I could feel that the taint of evil had spread through him. I didn't know at the time, but now I see he had let Lucifer in, not on purpose but he had. At the time I believed it was the stain of coveting thy neighbor’s wife. He was tainted so the only way to save him was to send him home to Father.” He looks devastated. “None of us knew anything for certain but when I heard you and young Wyatt were born at the same time, I found it odd.”

  Tears stream my cheeks. “I cannot kill him.”

  “Do you think our father relished the fact he had to kill his only true son? He chose to sacrifice the thing that meant the most to him in hopes of proving to your parents that he wouldn't ask for something he wouldn't do himself. Of course this is the thing he expects of you. The ultimate sacrifice of self and love.”

  “I don't believe Wyatt is the Antichrist so I will not fight him.” The words slip from my chapped lips, tasting like a lie and like heartbreak and betrayal. Just saying them aloud makes me traitorous to one side.

  “You have no choice. You will have to end him.”

  “No!” I push past him, heading for the door. “Not if I become the hand of Satan and kill myself!” I shout and head for the door. I need to go to Lucifer and commit a terrible crime against an innocent person. I need to see if it will work to save Wyatt from the fate of my choosing the good side while he becomes the Antichrist.

  I jump when I get to the door, my wings bursting into the air around me.

  There’s nothing to do but fly for the house in Boston and beg Constantine to help me. Even if I know he won’t help me destroy myself. But there has to be someone who will.

  An idea hits as I fly, so I bypass Boston and head for the house of the earth witches. I land on the dock and walk to their front door.

  I lift my hand to knock, trying to ignore how creepy their house has become since the earth started dying off. Their magic must be threatened.

  The door flings open before I can knock. Willow drags me to her, wrapping herself around me. She hugs tight. “Nene, I am so sorry.” She’s real again, here in the walls and magic of the earth witches.

  “Me too.” I sniffle and step inside and let the earth witches gather around me. Clearly, they’ve all heard. I’m surprised they allow me to enter since I was the one who killed Glory by making her reverse her spell.

  Willow wipes her face, her cold ghostly face, and pulls back. “We’re ready to fight when you are. The earth witches are ready.”

  “Thanks.” I look up at them all and nod. I don't really know what they can do. They’re all so pretty and delicate.

  “We will fight the fae queen.” Willow smiles, clearly hearing my thoughts. “The air witches will combat any of the lower angels who are on Lucifer’s side. The nixie will fight the best they can. The fire witches will fight the vampires with whatever is left of the air witches. We’re ready.”

  “All the witches are going to help?” I can’t believe it.

  “Yes, we are all going to help.” Willow beams, giving her sisters a look. Her ghostly eyes are sparkly with what little life still lingers in them. “We are putting aside our petty grievances and fighting together to end this once and for all.”

  I look down at her hands on mine, noting how cold they are. “When I die at the end of all this, do you think Wyatt and I can end up in the same place?”

  She tilts my chin and smiles. “I think anything is possible and when all this is over many things will be different.”

  “I hope so.” I shake my head. “I don't know how to tell him.”

  “Kill him gently before you have to.” Her eyes are determined. I know I can’t do that.

  “Is Fitz okay?”

  She shakes her head. “No. He won’t ever be okay with this.”

  “Me either.” I drag my finger across the mark Michael made and flash it at Willow. “You need to go there when we are ready. The fire witches will send you a signal.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. Michael told me to go there. That's where the vampires are.”

  She looks skeptical. “Okay.”

  Lowering my voice and trying to be discreet, I nod my head at the hallway in the back. “Can we talk privately?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Is there some kind of magic a person could do to preserve the soul or spirit so that if someone died they could come back? Like be brought back to life? Like magical CPR?”

  Her eyes widen but her lips wrestle with the truth hiding in her stare.

  “Tell me, Mom, please. I need to save him. I did this. I chose before I knew it was a choice. I condemned him to being the Antichrist.” The desperation pours from me.

  “We will find an answer for you.” She nods her head but the faces of the witches behind her tell me whatever it is, it’s not good.

  “Thank you. All I ask is for you to help me save him.” I take a step back to the door. “I’m going back to the fire witches’ house to see Constantine so he can come and help me. At least we can kill the army, even if Lucifer isn’t there.”

  Every single part of me refuses to believe this reality is mine.

  Leaving them and their weird Gothic house is hard. Maybe because I need Willow. Maybe because the earth witches have been like family to me for my entire life. They’re all I know. And not having Wyatt right now means I am essentially alone. Me and an army of witches and angels and Constantine. It doesn't build confidence.

  The fire witches’ house looks like a dirty little shack until I cross the magical barrier. Wyatt comes storming out onto the steps when I land. “Where were you?”

  “Willow and Fitz and then Michael and then the earth witches.” I hold my arm out and drag my finger along the magic ink that's not really ink. “Michael found a lead for Constantine on his sister.”

  His eyes are wide and angry. “What’s wrong?”

  I get lost for a second before the word “brother” starts to seep in. He goes from my favorite everything to a faded fantasy. He started out in this life as a what-if. He was the epitome of what it all could be. And now he is the very definition of disgust and horror. We share a father in some twisted magical way. We are spiritual siblings. Our father is the same man. With my mother he was real, he was the devil and her lover. With Wyatt’s mom he was the ghost in the machine. But either way, he was there when we were both conceived.

  And now it could all be a memory and a lie I convinced myself of.

  “Rayne?” He looks worried as he steps closer.

  The idea of his touch makes my skin crawl so I step back, shaking my head. “I just want to kill the vampires, and I have to eat. I came to warn you.”

  He looks defeated. “You’ll eat and make me sick, and I won’t be able to go. Why can’t I just go with Constantine and you stay here with Mags?”

  “No. I need to be there. In case Michelle’s there.” It’s a lie but telling him the truth might actually kill me.

  He does the stubborn face, the one that says he’s going to relent and try to make me come up with another plan. “We’ll see. Go eat. I bet I’m fine.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turn and storm from the stairs, heading straight for the house. I walk right to Constantine and show him the f
orearm and the weird fingernail drawing Michael did. “This is where Stella is.”

  As the letters and numbers appear he cocks an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” I look at it again, still not understanding what everyone else sees.

  “The vampire army is in Nashville?”

  I glance at my arm, confused and unable to read it, but the mirror across from me sees it all. The reflection makes me smile. Nashville is spelled out, the letters going down my arm, but only if you look from the top to the bottom and not sideways.

  “Time to cowboy up then I guess.” He shakes his head. “Of course that's where Stella would go.”

  “She likes Nashville?” I can’t see it. She’s a bit Gothic and intense for sunny Nashville.

  “She likes strapping young men in tight jeans who play guitars. She loves American men, especially Southerners.”

  “Creepy.” My eyes draw back to the cute strapping boy who fills out his jeans perfectly, and I understand her attraction to them. My entire body wants to have one more turn taking that guy for a spin around the block, but my mind whispers brother. That makes me gag. It’s not real but it’s something. Even magical brothers are off-limits as far as I’m concerned. It’s disgusting. The whole thing is disturbing, and when Wyatt knows, he’s going to be as sick as I am. Maybe even more so.

  Wyatt gives me his usual sneer. It’s a blend of annoyance and disappointment. It’s the one I always get when I’m talking to Constantine.

  “I have to eat. We leave in an hour.” I turn and walk back for the front door. Mystica sees me leaving and rushes for the door.

  “You hungry?” She follows me outside. “I found a group of really evil people.”

  “I’m starved.” I sigh and hold my hand out. “Lead the way.”

  She walks from the house, leaving the magical guard. “You all right?”

  “No.” I turn and look back at the crack shack that the mansion has become. “I got some seriously disturbing news.”

  “What?” she just asks rudely.

  “That the Antichrist isn’t Michelle. It’s someone who I would rather die than lose.”

  “Constantine!” She gasps.

  “No.” I lift my head, staring at her dark eyes. “Why would you say that?”

  “He’d be the one for me that I would die from. Wyatt’s cute but what else is he? He’s not loyal at all, if you ask me. Van Helsings aren’t known for being loyal at all. His mom was a bitch. And I heard he’s done terrible crimes to things like you and me and it doesn't even bother him.” She shrugs. “I guess I don't really find cruelty attractive, even if the reason is how you’re raised. At any time he could have stopped himself and said ‘no, this is wrong.’ But he didn't.”

  “I guess.” I see her point but my heart refuses to listen. “Constantine’s full of flaws too.”

  “No, the way he’s always watching and he’s been there, lurking in the shadows, protecting you for centuries—it’s romantic. He would die for you in a heartbeat. He would kill everything for you.” She shakes her head. “His love is bigger than the whole world.”

  I can’t argue with her words. I just know what my heart sees. Wyatt is perfect. Constantine is something else. Something deep and dark inside me, but he’s still not Wyatt.

  Her lips part but I lift a finger and smell the air. I shudder from the hunger as the cold wind brings me the scent of my meal. “What is that?” I moan.

  “Not sure but I felt them. They’re evil.”

  My body turns, jerking to the smell. I’m sure I look like Wyatt when he was sniffing out the devils. But the scent is too intense to worry about how I look. It makes the wind warm and my skin shiver.

  My steps become leaps as my wings rip from my back, lifting me over the house in front of us. It’s worn and creepy, not by magic but from the past months’ devastation. Flapping my wings, I circle the house, looking down on the damaged shake roof. It looks weak and frail so I just drop, letting myself fall into the house.

  I crash down onto the wooden floor, dropping to one knee, and scrutinize what I am facing.

  The face I find is not the one I expect. It’s Michelle. She flashes a wide grin, displaying her newly acquired fangs. “I knew you’d come.” She drops the man she’s sucked dry to the floor and crosses her legs, licking her fingers clean of the thick blood. “This is like that house in the song where men come and lose their innocence and goodness.”

  Slowly, using the mirrors on the walls and the window, I glance about the room without turning my head. “Why are you here?”

  “I came to see you.” She looks sad for a second, but I don't trust her. “I wanted to apologize for being such a dick. I never should have sided with stupid Stella. She was so sexy and crazy, and she made me a vampire so I lost my lesbian card and my head at the same time.”

  “You want to come back, to help me?” My gaze narrows suspiciously; it's not intentional, but I don't trust her as far as I can throw her. Which clearly now, being an angel, makes that sentence a bit ridiculous. I could throw her a couple of miles I suspect.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes sparkle. They’re dark like her soul now. “I miss having a real friend in the world. Where’s Mona?” She looks past me, like she’s expecting Mona any second.

  “Safe in the garden so Lucifer can’t ever reach her.”

  “Yikes.” She groans. “He won’t like that one bit. He was hoping they would meet. I think he fancies her a little.” The word isn’t Michelle’s, at all. It might be my father’s, but I don't know him well enough to be sure.

  Her blonde hair is shinier than before and her skin is paler. She looks the part of the classically stunning vampire, but her tight sweater has too much blood on it for her to be a classic anything other than a hot mess.

  Stella is a classic vampire. She rarely spills on herself, not since I’ve known her anyway. She eats gracefully and yet sexually. The whole experience of watching Stella eat is tantalizing, even for the victim.

  Seeing Michelle, I know she’s still in the frantically hungry stage of being a vampire. I know this phase. It matches my version of hunger, only I won’t ever be rid of the desperation when I eat.

  “I don't know why he would fancy her, he doesn’t even know her.”

  She shrugs. “He doesn't tell me anything. He doesn't even tell Stella. He just floats about like a cloud made of irritability and displeasure. He looks weird. Not human and not an angel. He’s like a ghost unless he finds some poor person to walk around inside of. He thought it was funny the other day to possess some old lady.” She shudders. “Weirdest afternoon of my life and that's saying a lot.” Her eyes clear and it’s like she’s normal again.

  I can’t fight the small grin I have. I know I look confused and upset, but I missed her. Even if she betrayed me.

  “If you see Mona, tell her to stay out of his reach.” Her voice lowers, but it’s more like she’s fighting herself.

  I nod. “I will.”

  “Have you seen her?” The way her eyes sparkle is creepy. I can see myself perfectly in the dark pools.

  “No,” I lie. “I can’t get into the garden. They sealed the gates because Michael wanted in. He believed Lucifer had won and wanted to hide in there.”

  A slow smile owns her face. “He thought that? The mighty angel himself?”

  That sentence gives it away, the way she says “mighty.” I try not to flinch or let on that I know Michelle isn’t Michelle. She’s Lucifer—or rather he’s Michelle. He’s here, wearing her.

  The slow part of my brain whispers that we can end this, but then I recall Michelle isn’t actually the Antichrist. I decide to continue being me and hope for the best. “Yeah. Michael is worried about Lucifer. So he’s come up with a way to defeat them easily.”

  Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, what?” It’s the worst impression of Michelle I have ever heard.

  “I don't know, something to do with Wyatt.” I am officially the worst liar ever. Why did I say Wyatt?


  Her eyes don't widen or change. “Wyatt? He’s such a knob. Why him?”

  “Not a clue. He and his sister know stuff, old stuff. I don't know. I guess the old books that Constantine requested from the witches have stuff in them he needs.”

  “Hmmmm, weird.” She folds her arms across her chest as she eyes me up, maybe contemplating what I am saying. “Does Michael have more of an army?”

  “Are you on my side now?” I laugh, leaning against the broken bed frame beside me.

  “I never left your side.” She says it like she believes it.

  “Rayne!” Mystica calls me from outside like an angel with her timing.

  “Up here. Be out in a second.”

  “Okay, it’s just getting cold and it smells weird here.”

  The grin on Michelle’s face is eerie. “You brought a fire witch to eat?”

  “No. She showed me the way. She must have sensed you. I suspect you’re what I smelled. All that sin you’ve sucked in with the blood and the bad deeds you’ve done must have mixed with the scent of the terrible people here.”

  She stands, nodding and stepping over the dead man at her feet. “There are some others downstairs. I didn't eat everyone.” She winks but I grab her face, sucking before she gets a chance to stop me. My strength and hunger strikes hard and fast, pulling her into me. I press our mouths together, her bloody, glossy lips and mine. It takes no effort at all to feed off of her. She doesn't even know how to fight it. Her hands grip my arms. Her fingertips dig into my flesh until she runs clear and the sin leaves her. She isn’t like Constantine; she doesn't have a lifetime of it. She has hours of evil. And now that she’s immortal I can suck from her and not kill her. I can stop myself and save her.

  I push back, shoving and making her trip over the dead man, and she falls. A dark cloud crawls along the ceiling above her, but I step to avoid the dead body and stand over her as she sobs where she has landed on the floor.

  “He crawled around inside me.” She sniffles and shakes as I force my eyes to stay on the obvious face of the shadow. He screams and drops threateningly, but he flies out the hole I’ve made in the roof.