The End of Days

by A. E. Watson

  His left eyebrow draws up. “Strange.”

  “It was so lifelike. I could feel his breath on my skin.” I shiver.

  “It wasn't real. I was watching you.” His words soothe me. It’s the strangest thing to be comforted by the man I have just betrayed before he could betray me. A man I do not trust, not fully.

  “My mom is with Mona,” I remind myself aloud. “My sisters are dead. Lillith is dead. Lucifer and Wyatt are alive and scary.” I pull back, narrowing my gaze. “Where is the dagger?”

  He reaches behind him and lifts the small pouch from the foot of the bed, handing it to me.

  Relieved, I exhale and nod. “Thanks.” Taking it out of the pouch the blade doesn't seem like anything until I touch my finger along the sharp edge. There’s a sparkle to it. The life force of my sisters is in there.

  Part of me wants to grip the blade and cling to them, but I have no desire to cut myself with it, not yet.

  “I have a team that’s been tracking Wyatt and Lucifer for some time. They said they’re with Stella and Michelle in—”

  “Nashville?” I roll my eyes.

  “Yeah. You remember that?”

  “Yup.” I give him a sympathetic look. I want to tell him that the garden is gone and we have to save this world, but I can’t.

  The silent moment between us is awkward so Michael stands. “I’m going to see if everyone is ready and then we will discuss the plan. Your dagger is the game changer we needed.” He sighs and leaves the room.

  He’s gone only a minute before there’s a knock at the door. Mystica pokes her head in, offering me a smile like I’ve never seen from her. “Hey!”

  “Hi.” I try not to sound awkward since she is giving me a look that would suggest we might be a lot closer than before.

  “Do you remember everything?”

  “Some things.” I don't recall us being BFFs.

  “Good.” She comes in and closes the door. “Did you get rid of the mirror?”

  “I did. They’re all gone.” I hate that I don't recall us being close friends.

  “You don't remember me, do you?” She reaches for me, offering a hand. “Take it. You’ll recall everything.”

  My hand lifts, and even with the hesitation in me, I take hers. Memories jolt to life, ripping through my brain, flooding me with a million images. My heart shrinks and breaks and grows. Everything is good and then it’s terrible. The whole world I lived in before is gone, ruined by the trip through the past. Life on earth is a cruel fate for everyone.

  The devils never came to balance the earth.

  The four horsemen didn't come to save the pious.

  The cities are rubble and oceans are fire.

  The world burns for us.

  There is no God. No hope. No peace.

  There never has been.

  Tears flood my eyes as I see it all, the ruin and sadness and deaths.

  The nixie are almost extinct and the rest of the witches cower here in the white tower, hiding from Lucifer’s cruelty.

  When my eyes meet Mystica’s again I soften. A warm smile crosses both our lips as we embrace, like sisters. She is the closest thing I have to family now.

  “Ready to end this?” she asks like she doesn't believe there will ever be an end.

  “I am.”

  “Then let’s do the thing you suggested last week.” Her words bring a memory. One I don't like, but I know it’s the only way. I knew it last week, and I’m even more convinced of it this week. Especially now that Constantine isn’t part of my life.

  “Okay.” I nod. I get up and walk to the door. Michael is still in the hall when I open it. He didn't go anywhere. I’m not prepared for him when I step out of the room.

  His eyes narrow as he reads my mind and realizes what has just happened. “You let her destroy it? The only thing we had that might have saved us?” His voice is low, but I can almost taste his rage.

  “I did.” I gulp.

  “How could you?” He starts to simmer. “You’ve doomed us all to this place.” His hands clench and his left eye twitches.

  “I’m sorry,” I lie.

  “NO! YOU AREN’T! YOU’RE SELFISH! YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WITH PEOPLE TO SAVE! WITH PEOPLE YOU LOVE TRAPPED HERE!” He storms toward me but the warm wind comes, stepping between us.

  Arra and Mystica back me up, standing up to Michael, “You don't scream at her.” Arra doesn't sound threatening, but she is.

  “SHE’S INSANE!” Michael froths he’s so angry. His eyes shoot hatred at me as he lowers his voice, “You have doomed us all. I hope you’re happy.” He turns and storms off down the hall.

  Mystica stares at Michael but speaks to me, “We better change the plan so it doesn't involve the air witches. I suspect they won’t be on our side.”

  A bitter laugh slips from my mouth. “I don't think it can involve anyone but Arra, you, and me.”

  “Then let’s get started.” She links her arm in mine and Arra’s and walks for the exit.

  I spin us all around and walk toward the tree of knowledge. “We have to get something first.”

  Arra cocks an eyebrow but lets me lead them to the tree. I pause, staring at the magnificence of it, before I lift my hand and pluck the piece of fruit that grows just for me. It’s cold and feels like a cross between a pear and an apple. Instead of taking a bite, I pass the fruit to Mystica. “Keep this safe. We’ll need it.”

  She takes it without asking why. She trusts me. It’s weird since all my trust in her is a memory that doesn't feel like an actual experience.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ash falls like rain—no, more like snow and is coming from a fire I can’t even see through the fog and smoke. The world is on fire. It’s burning because I was born a very long time ago.

  Arra holds my hand tightly, not scared but tense. I, however, am terrified. Our plan is half hatched, and I’m certain nothing about it is going to work.

  Nashville doesn't look the way it did when I saw it on TV. It’s dingy now and more like a city in a war-torn country. But I guess now that America is war-torn, everything is.

  Buildings are in ruin with rubble around the bases and holes in the brick and stone. Charred remains of people and cars are everywhere.

  Whatever destroyed the great city came quickly, attacking and slaughtering in the most efficient way.

  My fingers grip tighter to hers and Mystica’s as our feet break up the road around us while we stroll along First Avenue, following the debris-filled river past the old burned-out bars.

  “This was once a great city. I frequented the bars here a few times in the last century.” Arra turns and points overtop the shell of a building. “There used to be a building that made the skyline look like Batman lived here. They used to make fun of it being a Gotham city skyscraper and not a regular one.”

  I can’t see it the way she does. It’s disgusting now. I don't understand why she’s sightseeing until she forces a smug grin on her face. “Company,” she whispers so quietly I barely hear it. Mystica vanishes, not leaving my side but letting go of my hand so I don't look like I’m holding onto something.

  Arra stops us all from walking and waits as Stella and Michelle come strolling out from an alleyway. They look hard and savage, like they’re feeding way too much.

  Michelle is a bleach blonde with a metal look to her, instead of the pretty girl I once knew. Her eyes dart, betraying the look of instant guilt she has. She can’t maintain my gaze, not the way Stella does.

  They’re both stunning but Stella’s confidence is like Arra’s. She doesn't look rattled to see us at all. In fact, the smug grin on her perfect red lips is almost mocking us when she speaks, “Aww, the little dove came to visit.” Her love for me is gone. In fact, it never existed in this world. Her brother never loved me here in this reality, therefore Stella never saw me as a sister. I am nothing to her, and I can taste it in the air she breathes and hear it in her words.

  “The little dove needs to end this
war.” Arra jerks me forward. “Told you I could get her.” She sings her sentence.

  Stella starts a slow clap. Michelle joins in, copying of course. “You sure did. I have to admit I doubted you, a touch.”

  “Nothing to doubt. She can be compelled like anyone.” Arra lifts a long, slim finger to the sky. “You think he might have thought of that one before making her.”

  Stella laughs and skips forward. Her high-heel boots click on the broken cement as she dances toward us. “Goes to show he didn't plan much of this place out very well.” She gets close, so close I can smell her last victim on her breath. It taints the lush scent of the evil overflowing from her perfect red lips. “You will let them have you then, your father and brother?” Her eyes search mine, but I maintain the blank stare, the one I have been compelled to wear. It’s the only compulsion spell that will work on me. Arra has seen to that.

  “I will do as Miss Arra says.” I almost whisper the words.

  She stares into my eyes, combing for even a flicker of intelligence. But the stare is stronger than anything I am thinking or feeling. I couldn't make a face to save my life right now, and that is what will save my life. Mine and Mystica’s. I know I would have given away the fact she’s standing five feet from me if she hadn’t become completely invisible within seconds of hearing we had company.

  Stella claps her hands in my face, proving I am nothing but a shell. I don't flinch or blink or even twitch. I am motionless.

  A sharp laugh bursts from her lips. “Brilliant.” She darts her eyes to Arra. “You have actually done something right for a change.”

  Arra lifts a middle finger. I just catch the bright-red nails in my peripheral. “Where are they?”

  Stella points at a building behind us. “They were here but now they’re at the Grand Ole Opry House. Lucifer was feeling nostalgic.” She winks a dazzling eye and turns on her heel.

  Michelle tries to find something in my eyes. Her reasoning is different than Stella’s. I can see the grief this is causing her. She can’t hide her emotions as well as she should be able to. She winces when she sees no signs of life.

  The plan is working perfectly.

  The fact Mystica is completely invisible is also helping. Nashville has old magic, the kind Mystica and the other fire witches can draw on just by being here. If there were other witches with us she would have to share the power but being alone she gets to use it all.

  “So how hard was it to get the mirror?” Stella glances back as she walks with her typical swagger.

  “The mirror was destroyed a while ago,” Arra says matter-of-factly. “Before I could get to her, she sent her witch mother back to the garden with it. It’s gone.”

  Stella’s nose wrinkles. “Ohhhhhh, too bad for you. Lucifer isn’t going to like that.”

  “He doesn't have much choice. The thing is gone, and even worse, the one in the garden is destroyed too.” Arra’s tone doesn't change.

  Michelle saunters the way Stella does. It annoys me to see her like this, copying and mimicking someone else. She used to be so strong; she did what she wanted. And now she is nothing more than a clone of a girl she probably doesn't even like that much.

  “And let’s not forget that the mother being gone made it so I could sneak in and get Rayne under my compulsion. She obeys only me. Her mother would have noticed that.”

  Michelle’s eyes widen as she snaps her head around. “You locked the compulsion?”

  It’s Arra’s turn to be overly smug as she nods. “I’m not an idiot. Lucifer and Wyatt need me around to help with this one.” She nudges me hard, making me lose my footing. I don't make a face or a sound but fall back into step with her.

  Stella shakes her head in awe. “Remarkably stupid and brilliant all at once. Well done, Sis.” She cracks another of her weird smiles and picks up the pace.

  It’s a long walk from the river to the Opry House. My feet hurt a little and I’m tired, thirsty, and hungry. I would complain but I can’t. I shouldn’t have an ounce of thought going on in my head. The deceptively blank stare hides the constantly moving parts going on behind the scene.

  I’m grateful for it. The thoughts in my head would be revealed too easily.

  I am heartbroken.

  Some of it is my mom and Mona. But the largest part is surprising to me. It’s Constantine. I don't even care that Wyatt is my brother and not my lover. In fact, the notion makes me a bit nauseated. Maybe because in this version of reality he is an actual blood relative, making it even more repulsive.

  But the loss of Constantine could kill me. I miss him in ways that I wasn't prepared for. He’s a hole in my heart. A sudden one. There was no warning for the moment he would leave. He was just gone.

  The loss of him makes me feel alone. For the first time I feel lost in the truest form of the word. I thought I was lost before, but I always had him, even when I didn't want him.

  Now that I can’t have him I realize how much I have grown to love the sardonic look on his face. Or the smug tone of his voice. The heavy layer of disdain his jokes were always coated in was annoying before. But now I’m haunted by even just the scent of him. I can’t imagine there is a single smell in the world better than Constantine.

  I once treasured the scent of Wyatt, but now I am free of the charms placed on me and I see the toxicity of it all. I’m grateful to be freed of the love that never really was. There was attraction for sure. But more importantly, there was the taste of his evil and malice and the effort he always put into saving me.

  But here I am saving myself and enjoying the flavor of this much more.

  It’s an outcome I never imagined.

  The past is filled with horrible moments, ones like at college when he hit me to see the creature in me come out. On almost every level I hate Wyatt Van Helsing. And on every one of those same levels, I wish I loved Constantine, even though I do not know him here.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” Stella interrupts my thoughts with a nod and a laugh as we crest a small hill. Below us is the true and slithering version of hell.

  It’s an old mall parking lot but there are debris and fire and people everywhere. Angels with dark wings circle the lot, dipping down and landing to join in on the party.

  It looks the way the apocalypse should.

  It’s filthy and there’s no order to anything. People are in a horde that moves like a snake, writhing amongst each other and the fires. Music blares and people scream.

  One woman quite close to us tears at her own eyes, screaming as three onlookers laugh and mock her pain. I don't understand, but I have to assume they are controlling her, making her hurt herself.

  She drops to her knees as all three lunge at her, biting in savagely.

  The reek of hate and pain and treachery and vile deeds swims in the air like I am walking through the food court. There’s a hundred different smells. No, a thousand.

  I’m starved and weak.

  Across from the parking lot are the remnants of a pale old building with columns and large planters that have been destroyed. A massive guitar still stands, but it’s damaged enough that I could walk through it.

  On the second balcony one face stands out from the rest of them. One face I would be happy to never see again. It’s my father, grinning like he’s won.

  But he has no idea what’s coming for him.

  As treacherous and disgusting as my father is, I am his daughter in every sense of the word. I am capable of terrible things. One of them was changing the past so I never actually became the hand of God.

  The right to become the Antichrist is still in me, only Lucifer doesn't know that.

  Everything is different this time.

  He’s about to find out how different.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucifer’s footsteps on the wooden floor get excellent acoustics, thanks to the music hall having been built to reverberate the sound. He paces, tapping his finger to his lips as a grim smile comes to life. “Kill her.” He points at Michel
le who flinches. Her eyes drift to mine but I remain stoic. She pleads silently with a stare, but I don't respond in any way.

  “She won’t do as you tell her. She only listens to me.” Arra offers him a weak grin. She doesn't want to be too boastful. He’s psychotic and even more evil than before. With the balance being tipped to the dark side, he doesn't stand a chance at feeling even a drop of love.

  None of us really do.

  I feel the difference here too.

  I am colder and more withdrawn than I have ever been.

  “You certain this is a girl you want dead?” Arra asks him, not doubting his choice but giving him a second to reconsider.

  “Yes. Make Rayne kill her best friend.” His eyes dazzle as he watches my face. He’s waiting for it, for the act to wear off. But it won’t. It’s not an act. My heart wants to protest but my face cannot and will not show that emotion.

  “Kill Michelle, Rayne.” Arra says flatly, obviously aware I don't want to do this.

  Without even the slightest hesitation, I accept the large blade Lucifer has taken from a man behind him—no, a lower angel in the body he’s stolen from a man.

  Michelle’s eyes widen as she backs away, her fangs fully erect. “Don't make me hurt you, Rayne.” She shakes her blonde head. “Don't make me hurt you.”

  I know she won’t. She might have betrayed me. She might even fight hard enough to kill me, but that's the problem with being me, I don't die as easily as she will.

  I don't raise the sword; I just walk to her as she backs away, her high heels clicking on the wood floors, echoing throughout the hall.

  She shakes her head violently.

  My wings shoot from my back as her eyes dart to the exit. I know she’s about to move so fast I won’t even see it. But she’s obvious. She’ll look at the exit but run for the other door. I know her too well to fight her fairly.

  When she makes her move I spin, using my wings to pull me quickly across the space, stabbing behind me into her heart. I lift the blade and drag it forward, ripping it from her and spin again to the sound of her groan. It stops when my blade makes a slicing sound and her head thumps onto the floor.